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Leona

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Place: Hythe TW20 8 Age: 37 Nationality: Serbia Weight: 51 kg

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Place: Hythe TW20 8 Age: 30 Nationality: Serbia Weigh: 48 kg

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Place: Hythe TW20 8 Age: 26 Nationality: Moldova Weight: 50 kg

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After a lot of months of battle and sacrifice, the difficult journey was finally over. Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s brief history, couple of had actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have endured the cravings, hardship and rape. Few would have voluntarily paid so much from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to severe measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also endured the journey.

Lindiwe had not seen the stops on her trip 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 in between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane overlooking the clouds and spotting ahead of a path of prohibitively pricey nonrenewable fuel source. She saw no airports and many certainly no passport controllers. Had she fulfilled 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 native land or apprehended in one of the many refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had actually heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a decision from the many federal government firms and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the duty for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.

When there were so numerous other more immediate needs to deal with, no one would want to be strained with such obligation.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with any more generosity 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 trip. There were the weeks and, in the shanty towns of Cairo, the months of working for really little pay and a fantastic offer of spoken and physical abuse in occupations that were far more routine than her post-graduate degree and professional training had ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be a chance to make great the qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. Regardless of the falling apart decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a relatively young town with energy-efficient housing, substantial parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and solar panels.

The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African famine hadn’t lowered overall population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities might support. The cops were useless versus the criminal gangs that made it dangerous to venture out whether at day or night. The few available jobs paid very inadequately if they ever paid at all. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from disregard. Lines of starving people wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs allowed to get here in the shops. Only a fortunate couple of were ever rewarded for their persistence.

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 many. Many came from Africa, at least as numerous from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America.

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Aparo shared the same single mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had once been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daytime hours.

” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re just going to need to search for work in other places.”

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

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the vicinity of the bus depot in the business of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment opportunity. Not that there were many places to visit in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic however 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 told her that just Muslim males could apply. Besides that, the only grocery store– a Tesco-Walmart– was freely hostile and informed her that the business had a policy of reporting thought immigrants. So there was little hope there either.

Lindiwe soon understood that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had actually already taken all the offered low-paid chances. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English people, a number of whom honestly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her task search ultimately incorporated 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. Although this position required a pricey two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to spend the entire night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.

Her official jobs mainly included changing on and switching off the different cleaning devices and robotics. It wasn’t long up until Lindiwe found that cleaning wasn’t everything she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t composed into her terms and conditions of employment (which, in any case, were totally verbal and agreed with a handshake).

Throughout the very first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she ended up being conscious of the existence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd due to the fact that the only people expected to be working at the workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon became apparent what was happening when Lindiwe bumped into any of the individuals who had actually been staying in a locked space. Lindiwe also noticed the smell of sex that was remaining on their person.

” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s employer discussed as he handed her the meagre rewards for her first week’s work. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the change of federal government.

” Why don’t people go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who understood that her ongoing work was likely conditional on her accepting this extra work.

” The modification of federal government brought about numerous good chances,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is similar to lots of others you’ll discover all over this nation.

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now needed to supply about two times a week in one of the numerous out-of-bound workplaces. They were furnished with rather basic beds instead of chairs, desks and computer systems. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of concealing what was going on. There was a constant stream of consumers who concerned delight in the low-cost enjoyments that immigrant labour was now providing: their hungers whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the comfort of their own homes.

For Lindiwe, this offered no satisfaction at all up until she squeezed into the office shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other bodily fluids that the customers thought was a needed part of love-making but throughout which experience the vaginal penetration was probably the least distasteful part.

In the town’s short history, few had actually 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 many government firms 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 anticipate Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had actually been found by an official at any point on her trip. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work chance. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English people, numerous of whom honestly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle pointers of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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