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After a lot of months of battle and sacrifice, the arduous journey was finally over. Lindiwe had shown up. In the town’s brief history, few had actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few could have endured the appetite, rape and difficulty. Few would have willingly paid so much from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty years of age English New Town.
Desperation had actually driven Lindiwe to severe steps, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also endured the journey.
Lindiwe hadn’t seen the stops on her trip as a traveler might, although there were couple of European tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa nowadays. What she saw of the thousands of miles between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane soaring above the clouds and spotting ahead of a trail of excessively expensive fossil fuel. She saw no airports and most certainly no passport controllers. Had she satisfied even one in between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of an immigration paddy wagon either to be dumped back in her country of origin or apprehended in one of the numerous refugee camps that lined the shores of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had become aware of these camps, her more than likely fate there would be a lonely death while she awaited a choice from the many government companies and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the duty for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.
Nobody would want to be burdened with such responsibility when there were a lot of other more immediate needs to address.
Lindiwe didn’t anticipate Ashton Lovelock to deal with prohibited immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been discovered by an authorities at any point on her voyage. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and a great offer of physical and verbal abuse in professions that were far more menial than her post-graduate degree and professional training had ever prepared her for.
Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be an opportunity to make great the qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high expect Ashton Lovelock. Despite the falling apart decay of the hastily-built home she was staying in, it was a fairly young town with energy-efficient real estate, substantial parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and photovoltaic panels.
The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African starvation hadn’t lowered overall population numbers by quite. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities might support. The cops were useless against the criminal gangs that made it dangerous to venture out whether at day or night. The few readily available jobs paid really inadequately if they ever paid at all. Offices and houses were collapsing from disregard. Lines of starving people wound through the high streets for the few items the criminal gangs allowed to arrive in the shops. Only a fortunate couple of were ever rewarded for their perseverance.
Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now become an area of squats as the number of those who could pay for to buy residential or commercial property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had diminished at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict real estate stock. This town had actually when been home to a prosperous community of second and third generation Asian immigrants, but the regrettable policies of the just recently deposed Government of National Unity had actually led to their total evacuation. This undoubtedly left a vacuum that was now being filled by the newest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of many. There were people collected in Ashton Lovelock from all over the world, though almost all of them were pretending to have come via the Northern European Union. This was a necessary lie, made plausible in the after-effects of the National Server Centre Riots. Many originated from Africa, at least as numerous from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. Thankfully, the something everybody shared was a shared
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Aparo shared the same single mattress with Lindiwe in a room that had once been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daylight hours.
” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, describing the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to need to look for work in other places.”
Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the bed mattress in the evening since Mr and Mrs Martin would exist and there weren’t many places open at night where she could want to find work. This meant that her pursuit of employment would likewise indicate going without sleep.
Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the business of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. Not that there were many places to go to in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic however pointed out that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate candidates.
Lindiwe soon understood that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant neighborhood had already taken all the available low-paid chances. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English people, a number of whom openly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
The ever-widening radius of her task search eventually encompassed a business estate on the perimeter of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as nothing more requiring than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required a costly two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than having to invest the entire night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.
Her official tasks primarily involved changing on and switching off the numerous cleaning machines and robotics. It wasn’t long until Lindiwe discovered that cleansing wasn’t everything she was expected to do, although it wasn’t composed into her terms and conditions of work (which, in any case, were entirely spoken and concurred with a handshake).
Throughout the first week that Lindiwe operated at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became aware of the presence of spaces that ran out bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would invariably be an e-paper indication posted on the door of these spaces that requested that they be cleaned up later on. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the within. Due to the fact that the only individuals expected to be working at the workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives, this was odd.
It soon became obvious what was happening when Lindiwe ran into any of the people who ‘d been staying in a locked space. It was always a woman and a man. The lady was invariably much more youthful than the man and generally an immigrant. Lindiwe also saw the smell of sex that was sticking around on their individual. Her nostrils had become well attuned to the odour after the weeks she ‘d invested in Sarajevo in which her survival relied on the provision of blow-jobs to total complete strangers.
” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s employer described as he handed her the meagre benefits for her first week’s work. He was a slender dark-skinned man with a turban and a West Midlands accent. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the modification of government. “The benefits are additional pay. I can’t assure a fortune but suggestions can make a difference.”
” Why do not individuals go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who understood that her ongoing employment was almost certainly conditional on her accepting this additional work.
” The modification of government brought about many great chances,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, obviously. One procedure the new federal government also introduced was to close the illicit sex establishments that were an informal refuge for the immigrant women who ‘d stayed on in the nation, despite the consistent pressure to leave. This operation resembles lots of others you’ll find all over this nation. It’s a method for the Business Park’s property owners to use empty spaces in offices that would otherwise be decommissioned and for the punters to get what they want.”
And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now needed to offer about two times a week in one of the numerous out-of-bound workplaces. They were provided with rather fundamental beds rather than desks, computers and chairs. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of hiding what was going on. There was a consistent stream of clients who came to delight in the low-cost enjoyments that immigrant labour was now supplying: their cravings whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the convenience of their own homes.
For Lindiwe, this offered no enjoyment at all until she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the customers believed was a necessary part of love-making but during which experience the vaginal penetration was probably the least horrible part.
In the town’s short history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. And from what Lindiwe had heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a decision from the numerous federal government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.
Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the business of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English residents, numerous of whom honestly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle tips of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
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