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After numerous months of struggle and sacrifice, the strenuous journey was finally over. Lindiwe had gotten here. In the town’s brief history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have sustained the misfortune, hunger and rape. Few would have voluntarily paid so much from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty years of age English New Town.

However desperation had driven Lindiwe to severe steps, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also made it through the journey.

Lindiwe hadn’t seen the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were couple of European tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa nowadays. What she saw of the countless miles between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane overlooking the clouds and spotting ahead of a trail of excessively expensive nonrenewable fuel source. She saw no airports and most definitely 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 countless refugee camps that lined the shores 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 choice from the many federal government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.

When there were so many other more immediate requirements to attend to, no one would desire 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 been found by an authorities at any point on her voyage. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for extremely little pay and a terrific deal of verbal and physical 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 certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. Despite the collapsing decay of the hastily-built home 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 truth was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African famine hadn’t decreased overall population numbers by quite. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its infrastructure could support. The authorities were futile against the criminal gangs that made it harmful to venture out whether at day or night. If they ever paid at all, the few readily available jobs paid really poorly. Homes and offices were collapsing from neglect. Queues of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few items the criminal gangs allowed to get here in the shops. Only a lucky couple of were ever rewarded for their persistence.

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 might afford to purchase home in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had actually shrunk at the exact same rate as the supply of non-derelict housing stock. This town had actually as soon as been home to a flourishing community of 2nd and 3rd generation Asian immigrants, but the regrettable policies of the just recently deposed Government of National Unity had led to their total evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was only 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 by means of the Northern European Union. This was a needed lie, made plausible in the consequences of the National Server Centre Riots. Numerous came from Africa, a minimum of as many from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everyone had in common was a shared

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Aparo shared the same single mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had once been a loft extension. Three mattresses filled almost all the readily available flooring space and each of them, including the mattress the two buddies shared, was home to one set of people throughout the day and another during the night. Apara and Lindiwe shared the bed mattress in the daytime hours. At night, a black married couple from Mississippi slept on the same mattress and often left the trace of semen stains.

” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” stated 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 lots of locations open in the evening where she could hope to find work, she couldn’t sleep on the mattress at night. This indicated that her pursuit of work would likewise imply going without sleep.

Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the vicinity 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 opportunity. Not that there were many locations to go to in the town centre. The proprietor of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but pointed out that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate prospects.

Lindiwe quickly realised that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had currently taken all the offered low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English citizens, much of whom openly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her task search eventually included a business estate on the perimeter of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as absolutely nothing more requiring than a nightshift cleaning-woman. Although this position needed a pricey two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to spend the whole night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her official jobs mainly included switching on and switching off the various cleaning machines and robotics. It wasn’t long till Lindiwe discovered that cleaning wasn’t everything she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t composed into her terms and conditions of work (which, in any case, were completely spoken and concurred with a handshake).

During the very 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 published on the door of these rooms that asked for that they be cleaned later. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the inside. This was odd since the only people expected to be operating at the workplaces so late in the evening were security personnel and technical operatives.

It quickly became apparent what was occurring when Lindiwe ran into any of the people who ‘d been staying in a locked space. It was always a man and a lady. The lady was invariably much younger than the man and usually an immigrant. Lindiwe also discovered the smell of sex that was lingering on their individual. Her nostrils had actually become well attuned to the odour after the weeks she ‘d invested in Sarajevo in which her survival counted on the arrangement of blow-jobs to total strangers.

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

” Why do not individuals go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her ongoing employment was probably conditional on her accepting this additional work.

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

And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to supply about twice a week in one of the several out-of-bound offices. There was a steady stream of customers who came to take pleasure in the economical satisfaction that immigrant labour was now providing: their appetites whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the comfort of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this provided no enjoyment 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 clients thought was an essential part of love-making but during which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least horrible part.

In the town’s short history, few had actually 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 many federal 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 treat prohibited immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been found by an official at any point on her voyage. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the area 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. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, numerous of whom openly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle pointers of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.