“8 Mile” is one of the most notorious unplanned settlements in Port Moresby’s urban area and is home to more than 20,000 residents, all living tightly together with limited access to basic necessities like water, electricity and sanitation.
Many have moved from rural parts of the country, fleeing threats of tribal violence or seeking economic opportunities.
It is a high-risk crime hotspot with severe gang violence, ethnic clashes and murders.
Plans to turn 8 Mile into a proper planned suburb with land titles, sanitation, electricity, access roads, fences and street lights are absolutely essential, yet understandably, a cause of great anxiety for the residents who live in fear of forcible eviction.
Had I known any of that, I would have been much more careful.
MC Infrastructure is working on urban design concepts for revitalising 8 Mile and converting it into a safe, well-planned community with subdivided lots, access roads and essential utilities. On a recent visit to Port Moresby, we decided, quite spontaneously, to take a site tour.
One of our team phoned ahead and we were met on site by one of the local community leaders. Within minutes, we were surrounded by a mob of close to a hundred powerfully curious local residents who seemed like they wanted to be friendly, but seemed to not share my notion of personal space.
As we marched up the large hill in the middle of the settlement to assess the site I noticed a group of about 20 men observing us silently from an adjacent hill. I've worn the exact same outfit to an obscenely expensive restaurant in Mayfair, so I must have looked as foolish as I felt.
One of our entourage shouted something across to them in Tok Pisin that I only half understood, but which quite alarmed me (Tok Pisin includes a number of words that phonetically approximate English - contact me if you want to know what was said, as it doesn't seem appropriate for a public post).
They didn’t react and kept watching.
There's a fine line between confusion and fear and the realisation that I may not have picked the safest neighbourhood in the Pacific for a casual stroll was slow to dawn on me. At the same time, seeing so many people living without the basic necessary infrastructure that I take for granted made me hyper aware of my relatively immense wealth and privilege, so the fear was mixed with a sense of shame and and deep guilt.
For residents living with limited services and uncertain tenure, words like “redevelopment”, “planning” and “land titles” carry a lot of anxiety.
One of my more foresighted colleagues understood this and snuck off on his own to greet some of the local gang members that he noticed assessing us on our way in to put them at ease with our presence. It was the sensible and courteous thing to do.
He gave them all soft drinks and explained that we were there to bring electricity and build roads.
They considered that and decided it made sense.
“They must be aid workers. If they were developers, they would have armed guards”.
We were not aid workers of course, but I admit I felt comfortable with that particular misunderstanding, knowing it made us a little more welcome.
Better infrastructure would transform living conditions in 8 Mile, with generational impact. The challenge for MC Infrastructure is to design the improved suburb in such a way that as many residents as possible are able to live there and our ill-advised site tour / misadventure was immensely helpful for informing new urban design concepts that will do just that.
The re-planning of 8 Mile will become a powerful example of inclusive urban upgrading in Papua New Guinea. The opportunity is to create a safer, better serviced and more resilient community that includes the people who already live there as central stakeholders.
I look forward to describing my next visit.
