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Place: Pickwick SN13 9 Age: 23 Nationality: Slovakia Weight: 48 kg

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After a lot of months of struggle and sacrifice, the arduous journey was finally over. Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s short history, couple of had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Couple of could have endured the difficulty, rape and cravings. Couple of would have voluntarily paid so much from so little savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme procedures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d likewise endured the journey.

Lindiwe had not seen the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were few 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 overlooking the clouds and streaking ahead of a trail of excessively pricey 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 a migration paddy wagon either to be discarded back in her country of origin or apprehended in one of the numerous refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had found out about these camps, her probably fate there would be a lonely death while she awaited a decision from the many government agencies and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

When there were so many other more instant requirements to attend to, no one would desire to be strained with such responsibility.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with unlawful immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been discovered by an authorities at any point on her trip. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for really little pay and a fantastic offer of physical and spoken abuse in professions 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 good the qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high expect Ashton Lovelock. Regardless of the falling apart decay of the hastily-built house she was remaining in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient housing, substantial parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and photovoltaic panels.

The truth was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African famine had not decreased overall population numbers by quite. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities might support. The authorities were futile versus the criminal gangs that made it harmful to venture out whether at day or night. The few available tasks paid really poorly if they ever paid at all. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from neglect. Lines of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs permitted to get here in the shops. Only a fortunate few were ever rewarded for their perseverance.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now become a neighbourhood of squats as the variety of those who could pay for to buy property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had actually diminished at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict housing stock. This town had actually as soon as been house to a prosperous neighborhood of second and third generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the recently deposed Government of National Unity had led to their total evacuation. This undoubtedly left a vacuum that was now being filled by the most current wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of numerous. There were individuals collected 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 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 everybody had in typical was a shared

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

” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” stated Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to have to look for work in other places.”

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 discover work, she could not sleep on the bed mattress at night. This indicated that her pursuit of work would likewise suggest going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, 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. Not that there were many places to check out 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 equally desperate candidates.

Lindiwe soon realised that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had currently taken all the available low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English residents, a lot of whom freely teased Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her job search eventually incorporated a service estate on the border of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, gained a position but as 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 better than having to spend the whole night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her main jobs mainly involved switching on and turning off the different cleaning devices and robotics. However, it wasn’t long till Lindiwe discovered that cleaning wasn’t whatever she was expected to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms and conditions of employment (which, in any case, were completely verbal and agreed with a handshake).

Throughout the very first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became aware of the presence of spaces that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would inevitably be an e-paper sign posted on the door of these rooms that requested that they be cleaned later on. In case there might be some misconception, these doors were locked from the within. This was odd since the only people supposed to be working at the workplaces so late during the night were security guards and technical operatives.

It quickly became apparent what was taking place when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been staying in a locked room. Lindiwe likewise saw the smell of sex that was sticking around on their individual.

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

” Why don’t individuals go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her ongoing employment was probably conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The modification of government brought about many excellent possibilities,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I would not be here, of course. This operation is comparable to numerous others you’ll find all over this nation.

And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to supply about twice a week in one of the numerous out-of-bound offices. There was a steady stream of clients who came to take pleasure in the economical pleasures that immigrant labour was now offering: their hungers whetted by the VR fantasies they might enjoy in the convenience of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this supplied no pleasure at all until she squeezed into the office shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the customers thought was a required part of love-making but throughout which experience the vaginal penetration was most likely the least horrible part.

In the town’s brief history, couple of 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 choice from the numerous government companies and private 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 generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been found by an official at any point on her voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the vicinity 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 chance. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English citizens, numerous of whom freely taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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2627 Pickwick, EN SN13 9

Wiltshire, England (EN)

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