Jie Hongyun: Hukou Points System and a Dream of Permanent Urban Residency

By staff reporter LI WUZHOU

EARLIER this year, Jie Hongyun and her family completed the official procedures necessary to register their permanent residence in Zhongshan City, Guangdong Province. She thus realized her dream of becoming a citizen of the city.

Jie Hongyun, now 38, came to the Pearl River Delta in 1997 after graduating from vocational school. Before her present job as clerk in a handicrafts company she worked in a factory and as warehouse keeper.

Jie’s dream when she came to the Pearl River Delta was to “find a steady job with good pay and better housing.” Over the past 17 years her standard of accommodation has gradually improved. She first lived in a dorm where she and seven other female workers slept in bunk beds. After marrying in 2000, Jie and her husband moved into a 10-square-meter room. In 2007 the couple bought a 100-square-meter apartment through housing funds and loans. Jie thus achieved the dream of owning her own home in Zhongshan.

The one fly in the ointment, however, was the matter of her hukou, or registered permanent residence, which was not in Zhongshan. It prevented her from incorporating into the city where she had lived for 17 years.

“I have had medical and social security insurance in Zhongshan since starting work here, but you can’t imagine how inconvenient it can be to live in a city without hukou,” Jie said. She had to take the long journey back to her hometown in Hunan, in central China, to obtain certification for her son’s temporary schooling, for herself as a migrant worker, for family planning and travel abroad.

But her son’s schooling was the biggest problem. Jie could not bear the thought of sending him back to Hunan, but his staying in Zhongshan meant attending a private school catering specifically for children of migrant workers. The quality of teaching there was lower than at a public school, and it was far more costly. It also meant that the boy would eventually have to take the college entrance exam, or gaokao, in Hunan where Jie’s hukou is, but where he has never been to school. This would place unfair pressure on the child.

Things took a turn for the better in 2009, when Zhongshan City led the country in carrying out hukou reform. It took the form of a points system that enabled migrant workers to obtain a registered permanent residence and qualify for the city’s welfare system.

Migrant workers were awarded points for paying tax, buying homes and social security, as well as for their education background and taking part in volunteer activities.

Jie first applied for her hukou in 2010, but the 97 points she scored were far from enough. “What can I do?” Jie asked Li Youlin, director of the Migrant Workers Office, in despair. “My vocational school education earns me only 20 points, but at my age I can’t go to college to earn the other 80 points I need.” Li advised her to take up charity work. “You can join volunteers, donate blood and get involved in other charity activities to get extra points.”

By 2011, when she applied for the second time, Jie had accumulated 140 points through voluntary work, and was close to achieving her dream. She volunteered at the local firefighting department, passing out leaflets, giving fire safety advice to grassroots units and also recruiting more volunteers. She did most of her work in migrant worker communities. Limited space forced these temporary residents to use electrical appliances near gas outlets, which was a serious fire hazard. Jie pointed out these problems, door-to-door, and helped improve the safety standards.

When she applied for the third time in 2012, Jie had 197 points – enough to get her hukou. The points system in Zhongshan soon became popularized in Guangdong’s cities and eventually throughout the nation. Over the past two years, about 300,000 migrant workers have obtained their hukou in Guangdong.

In answer to the question of why getting hukou was so important, Jie, as a migrant worker, emphasized the need she felt for a sense of belonging and of acceptance in the city where she has lived for almost two decades. Sure enough, the gulf between her family and local residents soon evaporated. “My son now goes to a better, free public school. And I don’t have to worry about sending him back to Hunan to take the college entrance exam.” Jie hopes her son will go to a good university. “It would be wonderful if he could go to Sun Yat-sen University, Guangdong’s best.”

As to her own life, Jie feels liberated. “Finally I don’t need to worry about the future,” Jie said. “I’ve decided to quit work for a while and consider my new options.”