How I was scammed in South Africa

The adverts promised everything imaginable: reunion with lost lovers, manhood enlargement, womanhood enhancement, slimming treatments, skin-bleaching creams, business charms, and other miracles. My master claimed he could deliver them all. By midday, the heat was relentless. Somewhere along the way, I realised I had become a beggar. Many new arrivals survive this way. Others make it a full-time occupation. But the work comes with risks: police scrutiny, criminal gangs and the constant sting of xenophobic insults.

Like thousands of other asylum seekers, I survived on expired documents, living in a state of legal uncertainty.