Giving a voice to the informal economy is vital to PNG

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

INFORMAL economy is defined as that part of an economy that is not taxed, monitored by government or included in gross national product (GNP).

Informal activities occur outside the bureaucracy and may transgress its rules. They may avoid certain obligations but also forgo some of the benefits of conformity with the requirements of bureaucracy.

The informal economy plays a critical role in income and employment generation and mitigating poverty in developing economies. Without the informal economy, it is likely that socio-economic pressures will drive many people to destitution.

Despite the contribution of informal and subsistence agriculture to the PNG economy by way of providing employment and income to almost 85% of the population, especially women, very little has been done to promote it.

A survey that looked at the PNG informal economy found that, in addition to agriculture’s dominance, 14% of respondents were in production and manufacturing while 4% were in personal services.

Where activities involved small-scale trading, most people were selling the same things (local produce, betel nut, cigarettes, second hand clothes, bilums, handicrafts) and competition was very intense, seriously affecting already meagre incomes. The informal economy is continuously beset by these and other problems that hinder its development and growth.

The Consultative Implementation and Monitoring Council (CIMC) is concerned that there is insufficient information available to guide government policy action to support this important part of the economy.

The National Informal Economy Policy 2011-2015 was designed to offer concrete guidelines for achieving the aspirations of the Informal Sector Act.  It was the product of wide and thorough consultation at all three levels of government and with private sector, NGOs, civil society organisations and development partners.
It was informed by studies on the PNG informal sector as well as experience from abroad. A host of activities have been identified and captured in the policy and currently CIMC is developing an implementation plan.

The idea of creating a “voice” for the informal economy would enhance the influence of interest groups involved in and affected by it. The “voice” mechanism would ensure that issues such as consumer protection were taken into account.

Underpinning this planning activity, though, is the fact that the PNG informal economy is negatively perceived by both government and public. Coupled with this, people do not really understand what the informal economy is. Most have a narrow perception centered around the notion that informal economy is mainly to do with the sale of betel nut and cigarettes.

The ‘2008 Feeding Port Moresby’ study, revealed that nearly 90% of fresh food supplied to the city each year is sourced almost entirely from the local informal economy.  Despite such figures, a survey commissioned by the CIMC found that the informal economy has been long neglected: 95% of respondents said they had never received any form of assistance.

The rapid growth of the informal economy in PNG has been driven by three economic factors including reductions in statutory minimum wages, the floating of the kina and the doubling of the population to seven million people over 30 years. That the informal economy has been able to sustain the needs of the majority of Papua New Guineans without any form of assistance from government is a great achievement. 

Giving voice to informal economy participants is very important for a country like PNG. It can be likened to achieving much of what the Constitution seeks in “development [taking] place primarily through the use of Papua New Guinean forms of social and political organisation”.

The establishment of a “voice” mechanism, perhaps modeled upon the Chamber of Commerce concept, is vital as most of vendors see the importance of being organised to get assistance from the government, sharing information with members and protecting members’ rights.

In Cambodia the establishment of Micro Vendors Association led to a more responsible informal economy. In Zimbabwe the establishment of the Zimbabwe Chamber of Informal Economy Association resulted in many benefits for informal economy workers.

There is a danger that a mechanism such as a Chamber would come to be dominated by big operators whose interests conflict with those of small operators. This is something that will require consistent feedback from members. It is an area requiring further research to ensure that the Chamber is fair and equitable.

A recent National Urbanisation Forum recommended that the Office of the Urbanisation be upgraded to a department to give more prominence to urbanisation in PNG. Yet the practical challenge is huge with a limited amount of alienated land available for urban development and increasing demand from foreign investors.

Given the governments’ priority to drive the PNG economy through stimulating growth in the formal sector, the informal economy may be pushed further and further away from the planning process.

This is where the proposed Chamber of Informal Economy would try to ensure that the interests of the informal economy were explicitly captured in planning. Establishing a voice will bridge the communication gap and provide a medium for informal economy participants to be heard and given adequate support and attention.

In addition, the informal economy will become more a partner rather than a competitor with the formal sector.

In light of PNG’s massive resources projects, it is even more important for government to heed the 85% of its population in the informal economy. The spillover effects from external investment - rising cost of living, lifestyle changes, escalating migration of people to urban areas - may make most Papua New Guineans merely spectators in their own country.

A “voice” mechanism, representing the bulk of the low income population, will ensure that more effort is put into making the informal economy a “distributional focal point” so revenue from the mineral sector is diffused more equitably to the majority of the people. 

Stakeholders such as town planners, city authorities, business councils and formal sector Chambers of Commerce would be invited to be part of this new Chamber of Informal Economy.

With its establishment, information relating to the vendors will be captured in a database to facilitate estimates of income and levels of activity and support the sector's claims for political attention.

Without such data providing an evidential base, it may be difficult for the Chamber to advocate changes to policy or legislation.

In the longer term, it is envisaged that the informal economy’s voice mechanism will be built into the governance structure at ward and local government levels and that informal economic activities will link with the formal sector of the economy. In this way, informal economy participants can play an active role in resolving issues which affect them.

So the overall objective of the proposed Chamber of Informal Economy will be to give a “voice” to the informal economy for the sake of dialogue and consultation with key stakeholders and by this means deal systematically with the problems, issues and challenges affecting informal economy participants.

Tackling the urbanisation problem is central to a livable city

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

FOR anyone following the development of Gordons Market over the years, it may seem as if the problems arising in and around it are never ending.

Gordons Market was at one time the best managed and well-kept in Papua New Guinea. The city council was able to enforce laws and regulations effectively, unlike today when rampant lawlessness has significantly tarnished its reputation.

Growing up in Port Moresby, I have many fond memories of the once glorious market.

The sight of pigeons dashing across the sky or mooching along the walkways or the carpark, in those days free for shoppers to use unlike today where the space has been taken over by illicit activities such as gambling.

The pigeons in those days belonged to the city council, and the public was prohibited from touching or hurting them. As kids we were tempted to touch them but my parents discouraged me.

The environment inside the market was friendly with a market inspector on the lookout for litter bugs. Petty crime like pickpocketing was unheard of.

Unfortunately nowadays the market is infested with criminals and drunkards who have no regard for the rule of law. The police stage raids every now and then but the status quo remains.

I have been frequenting Gordons Market especially in the mornings as our bus pick-up zone is just opposite Gordons Police Station.

Every time I hurried towards the pick-up zone, I had to swerve and nudge my way through a sea of street vendors screaming at the top of their voices to convince me to buy their items.

Most of the vendors are youths who are good at preying on unsuspecting passer-by. The number of these vendors is increasing by the day, so much so I get a feeling that the government will have to come up with measures to prevent people migrating into cities from the villages.

Failure to do that may mean we could lose important civic infrastructure such as the Gordons Market to thugs and drunkards. The signs are already there and the situation does not look like easing anytime soon.

Most of these vendors don’t appear genuine, in fact they are opportunists. These are the very people whose inhumane behaviour has led to the police dishing out unfair treatment on innocent mothers and fathers who are trying their best to sell a few things to meet their family’s needs.

For the sake of our law abiding citizens trying to make an honest living, we have to regain control of Gordons Market and return it to its former glory.

To this end it is commendable to note that National Capital District Commission in partnership with UN Women is planning to modernise Gordons Market under the Safe Cities Market Program.

Even more encouraging are initiatives spearheaded by leaders like Justin Tkatchenko who recently renovated the old Koki and Sabama Markets.

Yet the issue of space is still a problem and vendors can be seen selling outside the market gates or peddling along the streets of Port Moresby. It is clear that the government will have to confront the challenging and sensitive issue of migration and urbanisation.

Already there have been suggestions that the government should enforce the Vagrancy Act. Others see the government’s National Identification Project as key to monitoring the movement of people.

People like me believe that formalising land tenure in settlements and creating a central property registry will address at least some problems of urbanisation, law and order and unemployment by converting property into assets that can be used to access loans or to build trade stores through the Stret Pasin Stoa scheme.

Whatever the approach the government decides to take, it has to make sure it addresses the uncontrolled flow of people from rural areas into the urban centres like Port Moresby.

Only then will we be able to regain public utilities that have been lost to the uncompromising nature of lawlessness that is plaguing public places like Gordons Market. 

Common tap diplomacy: Addressing Port Moresby’s water woes

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

LACK of access to water in Port Moresby is the result of a number of factors chief amongst which is the rapid rural urban drift that has led to a population explosion.

City planning has dragged behind population growth putting enormous pressure on existing infrastructure.

Along with illegal squatter settlements, the city’s water woes are a clear examples of these capacity constraints.

There are communities such as Erima that have not been able to access water on a consistent basis for many years. Eda Ranu, the water company responsible for supplying water in Port Moresby, blames illegal water connections for this state of affairs.

Instead of completely disconnecting the flow of water into these settlements, Eda Ranu  - as a responsible citizen - has adopted what I term “common tap diplomacy”.

This entails the setting up of taps at strategic points where surrounding communities can access water at certain times.

The community does not pay for this; perhaps the National Capital District Commission subsidises the cost. Or maybe it’s provided as cross-subsidies from well-to-do taxpayers or as part of Eda Ranu’s community service obligation.

Regardless, it is the right of every human being to have access to clean, treated and healthy water. On that note both Eda Ranu and NCDC have to be commended for providing water to the disadvantaged communities.

However, is common tap diplomacy the way to go in addressing the city’s water woes? Living in Port Moresby, by now all of us should realise that water is no longer a free good but its availability has to be paid for.

Recently, local political leaders prioritised the provision of water as one of their key policies. Justin Tchatencko and Labi Amaiu have come good with their promise, making payments to Eda Ranu to re-connect water in communities within their respective electorates.

They have boldly announced that water will be supplied without interruption and there is even hope that water will run into houses where pipes are still in existence.

Yet it looks certain that common tap diplomacy will still be the guiding principle in delivering water to communities.

It is easy to say that all houses in the settlements should be connected with their own water meter so they are responsible for their water use. However, lacking essential data such as section and allotment numbers, it is very difficult to monitor and track water usage.

Formal property titles would allow entities like Eda Ranu to track payment for the use of water and subsequently reduce waste.

Common tap diplomacy has a place in most PNG urban societies characterised by low incomes and high unemployment but over time it will have to be replaced with the installation of individual water meters.

Providing water through common taps can work only if every individual or family within a community takes equal responsibility for paying their dues.

However, in most settlements, there is a high possibility that the number of rate payers are outnumbered by non-rate payers. Unfortunately, when it comes to water, it is often the case where the majority takes advantage of the few honest rate payers.

Also when people responsible for collecting rents from the community to pay Eda Ranu misuse the money, the community is discouraged from paying.

Common tap diplomacy can only work if there is community commitment to take ownership of the service. For instance, if the youths in a particular community vandalise pipes and common taps, then the community needs to act responsibly by handing the culprits to the police or demanding some form of restitution from their families.

If leaders charged with collecting rents steal the money, they should be referred to the police or replaced with someone who is more competent and transparent.

Failure to act upon such problems usually leads to further problems and eventually the community at large is unfairly penalised.

At this juncture, all forms of negotiation and diplomacy are of no use so what can the government do?

The only possibility is to take a hardline approach to bring order into communities and the city as a whole.

In this modern dystopia, a thousand steps for water

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

AS dawn approaches the morning, the women and girls head out in search of water to beat the rush hour.

One by one they go to the oasis carrying empty bags full of water containers. It is a tough life and, while the kings of men are still fast asleep, the subjugated of our society trudge on.

When the privileged ease from their slumber to start their day, the unfortunates have already made a mile of progress. By the day’s end, their female body is bruised, the spirit battered but the dream of a brighter future remains unchanged.

As the sun’s rays chase the darkness away and the shadows disappear, the real face of struggle can be visibly seen conglomerating at the sanctuary of the water pipe.

As far as the eye can see, desperados line the side of the road, women, now joined by men and children. It’s another day and another journey in the search for fresh water.

Port Moresby is a city where modernity has no respect for human rights. In the name of development, dreams are lost in the rubble.

Development brought broken pipes and dusty roads into most people’s lives while the young became pretenders, wannabes who have declared war on moral values and principles.

Respect and admiration for elders is no longer a norm as disobedience and gluttony have taken hold. While these young people are caught up in the euphoria of modernity, their folks are sweating and shedding tears of suffering to make ends meet. What a sad situation.

The light of hope is dimming, no more than specks of light flickering in the midst of a universe of doubt and confusion. There is no silver lining in the struggle for water. These poor people can only watch helplessly as the conmen and irresponsible flourish.

So they tramp to the common taps, slaves to the deficit of their own country. And, as they hear of destruction elsewhere, confusion reigns. They fear that soon they will join the mass exodus of displaced and hopeless city dwellers with no place to call home. They fear that their future is to drown in the same tears of sorrow.

Look at them, deprived of comfort, support and, increasingly, sanity. For years they have been on this journey in the hellhole of society in the unremitting search for water. Water, the well-spring of life and civilisation.

When dusk approaches, the hordes reappear like bees in search of the hive. Their number is more plentiful than in the morning as those who have finished the day’s work join them.

More men now in the slow march to the pipe. Like a colony of ants they scurry to the goal. Old and young battle the heat to quench their thirst, cool off or fetch water to be used for the household.

In a place abandoned by negligence and broken promises, every drop of water counts. The only time water becomes bountiful is when it rains and the settlement comes alive. It is the only time they are relieved from the daily burden of looking for water.

The journey to the spring of life seems to have no end. For some it’s a walk that they take to find God and change the direction of their future. For many it’s an intergenerational journey marking the continuing struggle.

The young kids grow up knowing they must bear some of the load. For few hours each day these kids see the suffering and hardship and they too can see no hope. Laughter and joy replaced by anguish and despair.

They have begun their thousand steps to water. And, like the generation before, they hope water is on its way and that soon the end of their hardship will arrive. 

Long walk for water: the modernisation of Port Moresby

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

IT is overwhelming when one tries to comprehend the pace of development taking place in Port Moresby.

A drive around the city gives a clear impression of the huge level of investment the national government is putting into the Papua New Guinea capital in the hope of transforming it into one of the best cities in the Pacific.

The amount of money spent so far has already reached the billon kina mark. The much talked about flyover at Erima is alone costing K800 million.

This is just one of the many huge impact projects that the government through the National Capital District Commission (NCDC) is embarking on.

Initially the hype around the city was greatly optimistic as residents were hopeful of the positives that would come out of the planned developments.
However, recent cases of forced eviction have brought anxiety and confusion into the minds of residents. Many people are now beginning to wonder what the future holds for them.

It is clear that, while these developments are long overdue, they are bringing many problems, the magnitude of which is greater because the city has continuously suffered from poor planning since independence.

The city is now in the middle of a major housing crisis with settlements outpacing formal development and occupying most of the state owned land. Sudden injections in the form of big developments have resulted in many of these settlers being made homeless.

There are countless public servants and working class people who are resorting to settlements due to being priced out of the rental market.

Even public servants with genuine and clear land titles do not have access to basic services such as water and electricity.

Two years ago my family and I moved to Erima after I managed to secure a mortgage over a house there. Although the house was a decent high post three-bedroom place, there was no water running even though we had a bathroom and toilet.

Nevertheless, faced with limited opportunities, we had no choice but to move in and do the best we could. Regardless of the huge costs we would have to bear, we saw this as God’s blessing.

To me it was a one in a million chance for me to get a house with a state title at a bargain price. After we moved in we were told by our neighbours that the only means of accessing water was to walk to the main road and fetch it from common taps.

But we found that water flows through the taps only at certain times of the day, 6-9 in the morning, 12-1 in the afternoon and 6-9 in the evening. There is no exception and mothers, children, fathers, youths, the elderly, employed and unemployed carry bucketloads of water day in and day out from the roadside taps to their houses.

For the few living near the road, distance is not a problem. However the majority have to negotiate the heat of the sun and oncoming vehicles when heading home.

Already a couple of accidents have occurred. One involved a child who, while waiting for his mother, was hit by an oncoming vehicle. Fortunately quick action by the community resulted in the child being rushed to the hospital to receive treatment.

I often wonder what the travelling public think of us when they see people struggling to find water in the heart of the city.

The sight of mothers, fathers and children armed with water containers and convoying it back to their homes is surely a sight that no right thinking government would want to entertain.

Port Moresby as the capital city of Papua New Guinea should portray an image of a city that is setting a benchmark in terms of development.

But this scenario makes me realise that this government does not care for its 
people and I now to understand the hopelessness that I see in the eyes of the people who live here.

This problem is not confined to Erima, of course, but is widespread and includes 8 Mile, 9 Mile, ATS and other parts of the city.

Given that these areas are home to the majority of city residents one can imagine the magnitude and complexity of the problem.

A couple of days after we moved in, I was informed by neighbours that water had not been a problem until recently when the Eda Ranu (Our Water) utility decided to reduce water pressure due to illegal connections and the ensuing “out of control” water bills.

While I acknowledged Eda Ranu’s move to cut costs, I feel that the State failed me miserably as a land title holder.

I came to the conclusion that nothing would happen in the near future and purchased a 4,500 litre water tank for my family’s use. Given the large size of my family the water runs out quickly and it costs me K330 a month for a water company to refill the tank.

I consider myself lucky but I feel for the majority of people in the community, especially babies, kids and mothers who need water on a regular basis.

Last week I read about NCDC’s plan to inspect houses in the city to make sure residents conform to certain acceptable hygiene and health standards.
I commend the Commission for this initiative, however I see a problem.

Although many ratepayers are willing to pay for garbage collection, the services cannot get to our houses due to poor roads. As a result, I had to dig up the remaining portion of the land at the back of my house to dump the family rubbish.

Other people put rubbish into plastic bags and either burn them or discard them on the side of the road.

There is now a mountain at the back of our house we have to climb to dump our rubbish. The last time I checked, this place was overflowing with rubbish. Oh dear!

I observe the development taking place around Erima. The flyover and Erima junction roundabout currently under construction and people like me who have titles hope they will open up opportunities for Erima to become an attractive suburb.

However, for the majority of landless settlers, these developments are bringing anxiety and confusion given that eviction follows whenever there is development in our city.

The Paga Hill and the Erima Junction incidents show us what the government can do in pursuit of development.

We have read and seen on TV what the government has in store for settlers in 8 Mile, 9 Mile and Burns Peak but so far there has been nothing said about Erima.
In the information vacuum, residents are bombarded with so much speculation and rumour but I remain skeptical until I get some sort of clarification from the horse’s mouth.

As a citizen born and raised in Port Moresby, I have high hopes for the city and I am proud of the development that is taking place. To me it is a breath of fresh air after so many years of stagnation.

However, being a family man, I worry about the future of my community.
Every day as I walk around Port Moresby or pass across the new Erima flyover I ask myself, “Modernisation at whose expense?” I guess only time will tell.

Life in the settlement: The long wait for water

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

IN the distance their shadows can be seen stretched along the pavement by the rising sun as they sat surrounded by an army of water containers.

Although the morning coolness is still in the air, sweat can be seen around their eyebrows. Each takes turns to fill their containers while a group of patiently waiting women starts a conversation.
Other women with containers slung in both hands stroll towards the water tap. Their kids are still fast asleep while their husbands are out and about.

Anyway, the men prefer not to carry the water containers, believing it’s a task best left to their wives and daughters.
It is unusual to find men walking alongside their wives to and from the water tap, let alone standing around chatting.

In our own family’s search for water, I make it my business to help as much as possible. I am determined to show the men in my community that it is wrong to display discriminatory attitudes towards their wives and daughters.

If an educated person like me can help my family carry water containers, I see no reason why these men should not to do likewise.

Several months have gone by since the last time our Member of Parliament committed to connect water to our homes. Since the grand announcement we have awoken each day with hopes becoming dimmer.

By now everyone is convinced that the promises mean nothing. For some this is a major disappointment but for others, conned for so long, it is just another of a politician’s many unfulfilled promises.

I joined the struggle for water three years ago when I moved into this community. Since then we have sweated our guts out to build a new life but without much to celebrate.

Every time when I leave the gate of our family’s house, I pray to God to protect them. Whenever I see hardship in my family’s life, I deeply regret bringing my family here. It was a life we did not choose but out of desperation we had to do it.

Although we had no choice, I felt things would be different over time. Yet, deep down, I feel this is God’s way of preparing me and my family for something great and fulfilling.

There are things in life one has no control over and the best we can do is it to make the most of what we have.

This thought has driven me to carry on even when in pain from carrying three containers or trudging back and forth from the house to the water taps.

There have been times when it seemed my family could not take this lifestyle any longer. I sympathise with their views and, in those moments, try my best to reason with them, restraining my frustration because I know they are doing their best to get through the day and they have a right to complain.

I take responsibility for this misery for I brought it upon us in my optimism that this settlement would improve.

But the best I can do now is to comfort them and assure them that somehow the water will be connected, so we just have to be patient.

It has been almost three years now that we have been waiting for the water to be connected. For many people in this community, of course, their wait has been far longer than that. These people have decided to live with the thought that water will never come back.

My father is nearing retirement while my mother is highly susceptible to sickness. Whenever she carries water containers she is prone to fall ill. My wife, fully aware of my mother’s condition, tries her best to help but I can see on her face that her determination is wearing thin.

All around me I see exhaustion, frustration and regret and I have decided that it is time to move on.

Last year a potential buyer for my house pulled out at the very last minute before we closed the deal. That was a major setback for us.

We felt drained after the failed attempt and decided not to sell the house and go on for another year.

This year I have again decided to launch my bid to sell the house and still we wait for the water to be connected. How long this will go on nobody knows.

Formalising squatter settlements to create capital in PNG

BUSA JEREMIAH WENOGO

THERE is growing concern in Papua New Guinea that the increasing size of the informal economy is giving rise to more petty crime such as pickpocketing and other law and order problems.

In Port Moresby, markets such as Gordon and Koki are frequented by pickpockets and drug dealers. It is common to see drunkards roaming the markets armed with a bottle of SP and no sense of care or respect for the rule of law and fellow human beings.

The situations is such that law abiding citizens, especially women, are encouraged not to attend these markets either as a buyer or a vendor in fear of falling victim to harassment and abuse.

A couple of weeks ago, a policeman was harassed by market vendors while on patrol in Gordons Market. Police retaliation was swift and the canopy of umbrellas sheltering vendors was set alight. People ran in all direction as police fired bullets into the air.

It is also about time municipal authorities took stock of the alarming rise in criminal activities orchestrated by young people usually residing in squatter settlements in and around the fringes of Port Moresby and other major urban centres.

Most of these youths retract to the informal economy due to the lack of employment opportunities within the formal sector.

Many end up spending much of their time taking drugs and drinking cheap homemade alcohol such as “coffee punch”.

Looking to the future, the constant movement of people from rural areas to urban centres will further intensify this problem.

A lot of law and order problems affecting major urban centres have been attributed to the rise of informal squatter settlements.

These unplanned settlements are said to harbour people who are unemployed and to have a high prevalence of violence and crime. Not conforming to the rule of law through formally registering their properties also allows them to take advantage of their anonymous status.

Criminals who originate from these settlements take advantage of this situation by avoiding the arm of the law and instilling fear into the community.

On the other hand they are able to secure the community’s support through a Robin Hood existence where they rob the better off and share the spoils with their communities.

They may be seen as heroes and protected by the community through a “keep your mouth shut for your own good” policy. This makes it very difficult situation for police to track down these criminals.

When I first thought about this issue, I drew inspirations from Hernando De Soto’s book The mystery of capital, in which he argues that the absence of a national formal property system supported by appropriate legislative reforms has prevented most of the poor in developing countries from unleashing “capital” to transform their lives and the economy as a whole.

As a result capitalism has been blamed for many miseries and much suffering in the developing world while at the same time benefiting only a few elite individuals.

De Soto stresses the importance of governments creating laws around prevailing social contracts to facilitate transition from the informal economy into the formal sector.

He offers developing countries such as PNG a set of policy tools that address squatter settlement issues and the petty crime and violence associated with informal economic activities.

If settlements in PNG are turned into suburbs with house owners holding their own titles and homes connected to basic household utilities such as water and power, municipal authorities will be able to better address law and order problems and tackle challenges posed by the informal economy.

Records of homeowners kept in a central property registry will enable agencies like the police to tap into them if ever they are after a person of interest.

A formal property system will effectively instill accountability when house owners are securing loans or when government is providing services such as garbage collection, electricity and water.

Even traffic infringement or parking charges can be billed to the allotment number of the house. There can be confidence that violations of laws and regulations can be dealt with thoroughly.

Informal squatter settlements are now home to most working class Papua New Guineans who cannot afford to own a house or rent decent accommodation. And this movement into settlements is gradually changing their situation and image.

For people who dream of owning a house one day, informal arrangements are explored with landowners to access cheap unused land in settlements to build houses.

Houses built on this land are usually high covenant and of similar design and market value as those approved by the Building Board. They are built to win the favour of landlord and authorities so that a formal title may be secured.

There are also reports of people colluding with bureaucrats to secure titles over land in major towns and cities.

These examples illustrate the need for the government to develop laws that will allow people access to titles that can be used for multiple purposes.

Informal squatter settlements are not necessarily the fundamental problem so much as the system and laws that are in place. If informal squatter settlements are converted to properly titled areas, these homes can become assets that can be used as capital to grow the PNG economy.

Through such action ordinary Papua New Guineans can own assets and aspire to leverage them to become successful entrepreneurs.

The informal economy, historically responsible for filling in the gap and clearing up the mess left behind by the formal sector, can be the remedy to address stagnation in formal sector growth and not an ailment.

De Soto and his team of researchers found that the value of most informal squatter settlements around the world is trillions of dollars but they remain dead capital.

By government introducing appropriate laws to formalise these squatter settlements, they can inject life into dead capital and transform the economy.