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After so many months of struggle and sacrifice, the tough journey was finally over. Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s short history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have sustained the hunger, misfortune and rape. Few would have voluntarily paid a lot from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme steps, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d likewise made it through the journey.

Lindiwe hadn’t viewed the stops on her voyage as a tourist might, although there were few European tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. What she saw of the countless 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 path of excessively expensive nonrenewable fuel source. 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 a migration police van either to be dumped back in her native land or detained in among the numerous refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had actually become aware of these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she awaited a decision 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.

No one would wish to be strained with such obligation when there were many other more instant needs to resolve.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with illegal immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been found by an authorities at any point on her trip. There were the weeks and, in the shanty towns of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and an excellent offer of spoken and physical abuse in occupations that were far more menial than her post-graduate degree and expert training had actually ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be a chance to make great the credentials that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. In spite of the collapsing decay of the hastily-built home she was staying in, it was a relatively young town with energy-efficient real estate, substantial parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and photovoltaic panels.

The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African scarcity had not reduced general population numbers by very much. The few readily available tasks paid really badly if they ever paid at all.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now become a neighbourhood of squats as the number of those who might manage to purchase property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had shrunk at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict housing stock. This town had actually once been house to a prosperous community of second and 3rd generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the just recently deposed Government of National Unity had actually resulted in their overall evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of numerous. There were people gathered in Ashton Lovelock from all over the world, though almost all of them were pretending to have actually come through the Northern European Union. This was an essential lie, made plausible in the consequences of the National Server Centre Riots. Lots of originated from Africa, at least as numerous from the Middle East and Asia, and, inevitably, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. Thankfully, the something everyone shared was a shared

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Aparo shared the very same single bed mattress with Lindiwe in a room that had when been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daytime hours.

” There are no tasks at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to need to look for work elsewhere.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. Since Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t many places open in the night where she could hope to find work, she could not sleep on the mattress at night. This indicated that her pursuit of employment would also mean going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. Not that there were lots of locations to visit in the town centre. The proprietor of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but explained that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate candidates. The other fast-food chain, Yo Sushi Pizza Hut, was rather less friendly and more or less informed her that only Muslim men might use. Aside from that, the only grocery store– a Tesco-Walmart– was honestly hostile and told her that the company had a policy of reporting believed immigrants. There was little hope there either.

Lindiwe soon realised 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 evident distaste of native English people, a number of whom freely ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her task search ultimately included a business estate on the boundary of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position however as absolutely nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to invest the entire night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her main jobs mainly included switching on and turning off the various cleansing machines and robotics. It wasn’t long up until Lindiwe discovered that cleansing wasn’t whatever she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms and conditions of employment (which, in any case, were completely spoken and concurred with a handshake).

Throughout the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became conscious of the presence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd because the only individuals expected to be working at the offices so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon became apparent what was taking place when Lindiwe bumped into any of the individuals who ‘d been remaining in a locked space. Lindiwe likewise observed the smell of sex that was remaining on their person.

” I like all the personnel to chip in,” Lindiwe’s employer described as he handed her the meagre benefits for her very first week’s work. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the modification of government.

” Why don’t people go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her continued work was almost certainly conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The change of government brought about lots of good chances,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I would not be here, of course. This operation is similar to many others you’ll discover all over this country.

And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to supply about twice a week in one of the a number of out-of-bound workplaces. There was a consistent stream of clients who came to enjoy the inexpensive enjoyments that immigrant labour was now providing: their cravings whetted by the VR dreams they might enjoy in the comfort of their own homes.

For Lindiwe, this offered no satisfaction at all up until she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the consumers thought was a needed part of love-making however during which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least distasteful part.

In the town’s short history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. And from what Lindiwe had actually heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonely death while she waited for a decision from the numerous government agencies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Lindiwe didn’t anticipate Ashton Lovelock to deal with prohibited immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had actually been found by an authorities at any point on her trip. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the vicinity 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 obvious distaste of native English citizens, numerous of whom honestly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.