City of Darkness Revisited

Food factories, like this one preparing barbecued meat, were a dramatic yet utterly commonplace example of the Walled City’s unregulated reality. And although the City’s actual walls were dismantled during the Second World War, widespread misconception formed another barrier: one of reputation, casting the Walled City as a dirty and dangerous place

Kowloon Walled City – the Reality

that effectively hid this extraordinary community of 35,000 residents

Peter Popham

from the ‘reality’ of modern Hong Kong.

Peter Popham toured the Walled City not long before its demolition. A foreign

granted, resulted in an environment as richly varied and as sensual

correspondent with The Independent and author of The Lady and the Peacock,

as the heart of the tropical rainforest. The only drawback was that it

the biography of Aung San Suu Kyi, he has also written extensively on Asian

was obviously toxic.

cities: his first book, The City at the End of the World (1985), was a wartsand-all portrait of Tokyo. He lives near Regent’s Park in London.

My guide and I climbed and climbed the steps of an apart-

ment block. Who would have been a postman in such a place? Yet there was a postal service, and because the alleys and blocks had few

6

This book is full of wonderful photographs. But no photographs can

identifying numbers, the postmen had devised their own system,

do full justice to what it was like to visit Kowloon Walled City.

roughly daubing complicated signs on each door as a reference.

There were no thoroughfares in the City – and no vehicles

We kept on climbing and slowly the conditions improved.

except the odd bicycle – only dozens of alleys. From the innocuous,

The smells were diluted. Something like oxygen made its presence

neutral outside you plunged in. The space was no more than four feet

felt. The light brightened. We emerged finally at roof level, the only

wide. Immediately the alley dipped and twisted, the safe world

part of the Walled City where there was any space to spare. From

outside vanished, the Walled City swallowed you up.

there the awesome size of the place, which was essentially a single

lump of building, became apparent.

It was dark and incredibly dank. It was impossible to stand

upright because the roof of the alley was lined with a confusion of

plastic pipes carrying water, many of them dripping. Immediately

blocks were tightly packed together, each had its own history, like

you were inside, the symphony of stinks commenced: the damp, first

strangers squashed together on the subway. The most sophisticated

of all, underlying all the others; then, as you progressed, smells of

were the copies of Hong Kong municipal blocks. Some had home-

incense – burned outside homes – or charcoal, of putrefying pigs’

made annexes of brick or iron or plastic on the roofs, but all were

guts, of sweet-and-sour cooking, of raw and probably rotting fish, of

jammed close to one another so that an agile cat could circle the

burning plastic from a factory, of polish, of incense again, of mildew.

City at that level without difficulty. The roof had various functions.

One of the municipal services the Walled City never really got to

The light was dingy at best, deep green: there was the

From the roof you could see clearly that, although the

endless spatter of water leaking on to stone. One particularly ghastly

grips with was rubbish collection. Somehow or other they disposed of

little alley – spongily wet underfoot, a big rat hopping off – brought

the organic, but the inorganic – old television sets, broken furniture,

you to the gate of the Tin Hau Temple. Its courtyard had been

worn-out clothes, bedsprings and the like – they lugged up to the

shielded from the rubbish routinely heaved out of upstairs’ windows

roof and abandoned.

by wire netting, which as a result was liberally spotted with bits of

ancient filth through which daylight filtered down, like light dappling

Washing was strung up between the thousand television aerials.

leaves in a forest.

Small children played something like hopscotch under the eyes of

elderly women. Pigeons cooed sonorously. And every 10 minutes

All this intensity of random human effort and activity, vice

and sloth and industry, exempted from all the controls we take for

Up there, among those heaps of junk, village life continued.

or so another jumbo jet descended on Kai Tak Airport – heading

crime, danger, illegality of every description. All that was true,

straight for the Walled City and, skimming so low, it was surprising

though the quotient of crime diminished steadily over the years. But

that it did not makes its final descent festooned in laundry …

the blanket of condemnation those negative attributes provoked

blinded people to its extraordinary qualities. Only after the sentence

In 1993, not long after I wrote those words, Hak Nam, ‘the

City of Darkness’, was torn down. But it lives on. Some 20 years after

of death had been pronounced, and the British and the Chinese

Hong Kong’s colonial authorities finally succeeded in doing what

authorities finally found themselves on the same page, did we begin

they had been itching to do for at least the previous 50, it is far more

to appreciate what we were about to lose.

famous, more discussed, more inspirational, more mysterious than it

ever was during all the years when it was merely the colony’s most

like it anywhere else on the planet. And now it is gone, it is as

notorious blot.

irretrievable as the sabre-toothed tiger. Nowhere else in the world

have homeless refugees created something like this, a microcosm of

As long as it still stood, this vast slum, protected not by

Because Hak Nam was unique: there was nothing remotely

walls – the Japanese removed them to expand Kai Tak Airport during

civilisation that survived and prospered for decades while never being

the Second World War – but by its status as an inviolable Chinese

subject, through all that time, to external authority.

enclave deep inside British-ruled Kowloon, was a byword for squalor,

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26

Detail views of the City’s east (opposite) and west

(right) elevations. With the exception of a strict height limit due to the proximity of Kai Tak Airport, the Government’s Public Works Department had no dealings with the Walled City and the contractors there were not obliged to submit plans or drawings.

Instead, most blocks were built from experience using simple sketches, thereby saving on professional fees. Construction usually proceeded by sight alone, with the result that floor areas of different storeys of the same building were often markedly different – a serious inconvenience when it came to assessing compensation. Visually, however, this cavalier approach leant the City a marvellous articulation.

Often sandwiched on to the narrowest of sites, the buildings stood out in clear visual slices that showed a complete disregard for any sort of horizontal uniformity with their neighbours.

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Ho Chi Kam Though he had lived in the City for much longer, Ho Chi Kam only took over the running of the barber’s shop at 10 Tai Chang Street in 1985. He was unhappy about the clearance and would only give a short interview.

I first read about my flat in Sing Pao Daily News; I bought it and moved in at the beginning of 1974. The flat is on the Tung Tau Tsuen Road, so I didn’t really have to come inside the City until I started running my own barber’s shop. Then I came every day.

Before that, I worked in the same business for other people. This place belonged

to a friend who offered it to me when he decided to leave. I had to borrow some money to set myself up, but I’ve been here for five years now and I am the sole proprietor. We are the only hair parlour inside the City and my customers are people living nearby.

So many people used to live here that if only one in a hundred came to me, I would

have enough business. We set the prices as we liked, but we were cheaper than the barbers outside. My wife and I both worked, and sometimes there was a lot of work. We used to open at 9am and close when there were no more customers – it was very flexible. There 28

were no problems with supplies as we paid on delivery.

Now that the Walled City is to be demolished, I have started working for others

again and only come here on Wednesdays, my day off. Of course, from the point of view of my business, I’m not happy about the demolition. Running the barber’s shop here didn’t make me wealthy, but I didn’t have to worry about my next meal either. Now, working for someone else, I only receive 30 per cent of every $100 I earn. I have to bring in $300 for the boss before I can get $90. In the old days, here, I would have been able to earn that doing just one head.

But there is no choice. We have to move whether we like it or not. The only prob-

lem is that it won’t be possible to start up a similar shop outside, because I couldn’t afford the rent.

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With its entrance fronting the darkness of Tai Chang Street, not far from the sole Government stand-pipe within the confines of the Walled City, Ho Chi Kam’s barber’s shop was a small but prosperous business. Customers were almost entirely local residents, and low prices for cuts and shampoos meant the occasional queue for service. The shop eventually closed in 1991, shortly before the start of phase two of the clearance.

additional fort was built near the coast. Its strategic position, just a quarter of a mile from the sea and across the harbour from Hong Kong, was soon to bring it lasting fame.

In 1841 Britain occupied Hong Kong Island, forcing the Chinese to

respond. How could they defend Kowloon from a possible British invasion? In 1843 they decided to transfer a deputy magistrate, administratively responsible for 492 neighbouring villages, to Kowloon City, together with the chief military officer of the county and an increased garrison of 150 soldiers.

A Chinese Magistrate’s Fort Julia Wilkinson

The Viceroy of Canton soon suggested further improvements to the

fort, including offices, barracks and training facilities. But his most significant proposal was to build a solid stone wall. By 1847 it was finished, transforming the nondescript fort into the Kowloon Walled City, a visible and psychological

The Kowloon Walled City was one of the greatest anomalies in

symbol of imperial control to the barbarians in Hong Kong.

Hong Kong’s history. No other part of the territory caused such

surveyed the newly-leased New Territories in 1898, he described the wall’s

controversy or maintained such a confused identity as this 6.5-

impressive dimensions: “The wall is built of granite ashlar facing, is 15 feet in

acre slum. Claimed by both China and Britain but properly

width at the top and averages in height 13 feet.” A rough parallelogram, it measured 700 feet by 400 feet and enclosed an area of 6.5 acres, an earlier

administered by neither, the Walled City became a legal no-

extension which ran from the northern corner up the rocky hill behind having

man’s land, a notorious city of darkness and sin.

already fallen into disuse. It featured six watch-towers (then occupied as family

It wasn’t sin, but salt, which first gave the Walled City life. In the Sung Dynasty (960-1297), north-east coastal Kowloon was an important salt-field, one of several in the district of San On. It was known then as Kuan-fu Ch’ang – Kowloon, the vernacular name, was only officially adopted in 1840. A small fort was established here early on in the Sung Dynasty, to house imperial soldiers who controlled the salt trade. For a brief time, too, in 1277, it probably hosted the ‘travelling palace’ of the young Sung emperor, fleeing from the Mongols who had invaded south China years earlier.

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When the Colonial Secretary of Hong Kong, J.H. Stewart Lockhart,

This distant military outpost of imperial China, called Kau Lung Shing

(Kowloon City) by the locals, was situated immediately north-west of a settlement known as Kau Lung Gai (Kowloon Street), an area that became notorious in the 1890s for its gambling dens. The fort itself made no headlines for several centuries, until 1668, when a watchpost was established on the site with a small garrison of 30 guards. In later years this number was reduced to 10. In 1810, an

The layout of the Walled City as proposed by the Viceroy of Canton in 1847. Only a few of the new military premises were built, most notably the Assistant Magistrate’s Yamen, the only building to survive through to the Walled City’s demolition in 1993.

dwellings), four gateways, a granite parapet with 119 embrasures, and dozens of cannons. “Kowloon might … be styled the City of Cannons,” declared a Hong-

kong Weekly Press article in 1904. “Everywhere one goes one strikes up against ancient dismantled guns.”

Not long after the wall was completed, the City boasted more refine-

ments: a yamen (office for the deputy magistrate), a traditional paper-burning pavilion near the east gate, and the Lung Chun Yee Hok (communal school), founded in 1847 to act as a moral defence against barbarian influences and a

The view from Lung Chun Pier in 1898, looking towards Kowloon City and the

pai lau, or ceremonial arch, that marked the beginning of the main street. The walled structure on the left is the Chinese Maritime Customs Station.

meeting place for officials. By 1880 a charitable society, the Lok Sin

Tong (Hall of Willing Charity), had been established to distribute free

Pier, an imposing stone jetty supported by 21 pillars, completed in

education and free medicine to the surrounding villages.

1875 and running 700 feet out into the sea to enable the mandarin

to reach his boat in style. In 1892 a 260-foot wooden extension was

The one thing the Walled City did not have was a market or,

Beyond these suburbs of Kowloon City ran the Lung Chun

indeed, shops of any kind. It was primarily a garrison town for officials

added. A two-storey Lung Chun (Mandarin Greeting) Pavilion was

and soldiers. In 1898 the garrison numbered 500 and the civilian popu-

built at the head of the pier as an official reception area and rest-

lation 200, largely dependants of the military and reportedly under the

house for travellers. Completing the formal entrance-way was a pai

jurisdiction of the military commander. But by this time the area lead-

lau, or ceremonial arch.

ing from the east gate to the waterfront a quarter of a mile away –

the original Kau Lung Gai – had developed into a bustling market

defences were not British, but Chinese: rebels captured the Walled

town attracting villagers from as far as Shatin and Sai Kung. As trade

City in 1854 during the Taiping Rebellion, ransacking its houses and

developed, a provincial customs station was set up in 1871 to prevent

seizing livestock. The imperial officials fled to the only safe place

smuggling – especially opium – from Hong Kong, replaced 15 years

around – Hong Kong Island. A week later they regained their military

later by a more important ‘Chinese Maritime Customs Station’.

foothold: the garrison of 300 which the rebels had left behind when

Ironically, the first people to test the Walled City’s new

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Law Yu Yi Law Yu Yi, aged 90, lived in a small, windowless and exceptionally humid third-floor apartment off Lung Chun First Alley with her 68-year-old daughter-in-law, an arrangement which almost certainly reflected the

80

traditional Chinese obligation for a son’s wife to serve his parents and family. Both their spouses had passed away, a not uncommon occurrence which often resulted in a close dependence and companionship between women of different generations, thrown together in their later years. Formerly a housewife and originally from Guangdong, Law Yu Yi had lived in the City for 28 years; a surviving son lived on a lower floor in the same building.

Her daily routine would take her to the adjoining park, where she would groom her face meticulously in the traditional Chinese way, and to the Old People’s Centre to take tea and meet friends.

25

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The public stand-pipe on Tai Chang Street served all manner of residential and commercial needs. The primary purpose, of course, was the provision of safe drinking water and people – some ordinary residents and others paid water ‘suppliers’ – appeared throughout the day to fill plastic containers and buckets that then had to be carried home, often up many flights of stairs.

But people also came here with their washing up or to bathe. Caught in a rare shaft of sunlight

(right) a man shampoos his hair, while beside him water pours from a tap to thaw a basket of frozen eels that will be used to make fishballs in one of the City’s numerous food factories.

108

Perhaps the biggest drawback with the well-water was that

But sewage and waste removal was a matter of public hygiene, and

much of it was undrinkable. Pungent and murky, it was impregnated

had implications for the health of people beyond the City.

with the usual urban seepage or industrial pollutants. The best use it

could be put to was washing and floor-cleaning; it was not even fit to

households were the technical difficulties presented by the City. First

boil. Drinking and cooking water still had to be carried from the stand-

among these, the Government argued, was the high concentration of

pipes, and a small workforce was engaged in this activity till the end.

buildings, none of which had adequate provision for water or waste.

Second, there were the narrow streets and the sheer disruption that

Health problems were also a major concern. Before the

Among the reasons cited for refusing to supply water to

Government got together with the Kai Fong to install a mains sewage

laying mains pipes would cause to City life. These were certainly valid

line in the 1970s, raw human waste exited the City via open drains

considerations, but more important, perhaps, was a reluctance to

driven down the side of the tiny streets. Much of this sewage seeped

further encourage permanent settlement in the City.

away, forgotten, into the ground, leaving the underlying geology of the

area like a giant septic tank. Underground sources, especially from the

paltry stand-pipes. Consequently there was some illegal tapping of

shallower wells, could not help but be contaminated.

mains water from outside the City, notably from the adjacent Sai Tau

Tsuen and Mei Tung estates. This illegal business was monopolised, in

The installation of a sewage mains was one of a number of

Wells were not enough in themselves to supplement the eight

essential services the Government felt compelled to provide. Like basic

the beginning, by the Triads. As these same organisations were also

policing and lighting, and the provision of social services and rubbish

responsible for much of the construction in the City, they were able to

removal, it was one of the several exceptions which broke the rule of

ensure that the newer buildings, at least, had some provision for water

non-intervention. It was, in a sense, the other necessary side of the

supply and waste – even if only of the most rudimentary kind – or

coin to water supply, which the Government had allowed to be

could impress on the buyers the benefits of being connected.g

managed privately without regulation – extra-legally but not illegally.

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A huge building boom throughout the 1960s saw the average height of buildings in the Walled City rise from four or five storeys in 1960 to the final limit of 14 storeys and more by 1972 (below), with every available plot of land built upon – as seen in the aerial view of 1976 (opposite).

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And once profit margins could be achieved on taller structures during

towers with lifts until the 1980s, followed by 40-storey and then 60-

the latter part of the 1950s and early ’60s, they predominated.

storey super-blocks as property values skyrocketed from the 1990s to

the present. Heights inside the Walled City remained low and ‘vern-

The transformation from what, up to this point, had been a

more or less standard squatter settlement to the unique entity that the

acular’ – handmade one- to three-storey buildings – until the 1960s,

Walled City would eventually become had truly begun. The economic

after which the buildings started to spurt upwards rapidly, from six to

model of these higher buildings is paramount, because the chance to

nine storeys initially, then to as many as 14 storeys by the end of the

benefit from selling one’s development rights proved to be a potent

1970s. They would have climbed higher if not for the limit necessitated

incentive. Furthermore, this is exactly Hong Kong’s larger property-

by the flight paths of nearby Kai Tak Airport, possibly the only mean-

driven economic story, but in miniature, with early owners profiting

ingful hindrance to the city’s renegade development experience.

from the intense growth of Hong Kong as a whole.

whole. But it was also its smaller, scruffier twin that shared virtually

The history of Hong Kong’s building form can similarly be

identified by height conventions that correlate to chronological time periods: five- or six-storey walk-ups until the 1960s, 20- to 30-storey

Yes, the Walled City was different from Hong Kong as a

identical urbanistic and architectural DNA.

Lam Po Chun

Postman Lui Man Sang emerges from a building staircase and enters one of the Walled City’s alleys while making his rounds. Few people had as complete an understanding of the City’s layout, and probably no one better understood the interconnectedness of its buildings, alleys, staircases, hallways and rooftops than Mr Lui, especially during the building boom of the late 1970s when street patterns and addresses were constantly in flux.

The photographs on this spread and the next first appeared (with others) in the original volume as a record of a day in the life of Mr Lui, the postman.

Although obliging as a photographic subject, he volunteered little of his experiences at the time. However, while researching this new edition, we were able to speak Mr Lui’s former colleague, Lam Po Chun, who recalls the unique challenges of delivering mail in the City with Mr Lui.

When I was a postman working in the Walled City, every day my hair and clothes would be rank from the dripping from above in the alleys.

When I got home, I would wash myself from head to toe. The foulest place was the alley around the back of the old people’s home. Tucked away on the left and right were a couple of high-rise buildings, and along the alley were little fishball workshops. I took a deep breath every time I went there, and got out again as quickly as I could after delivering the mail.

From 1979 to 1989 – that is, from my 19th to 29th year – I

was a postman in the Walled City. I had many interesting encounters and experiences, which linger in my memory to this day. I feel the Walled City was a fascinating place. You could walk around on the rooftops there, and in this way pass from one building to another. In my daily rooftop walk, I could see through the windows how the residents of the City lived. I greeted them every day. The Walled City was often hit by power cuts, when the whole place would be plunged into

use the staircase to get back down to their homes or the street level.

darkness. I would take out a torch, and escort the children and elderly

Mr Lui and I also used these routes for delivery of registered mail. We

who did not dare to venture upstairs to their homes.

really deserved our nickname as the ‘rooftop posties’.

The buildings of the Walled City were stacked together side

Each time I climbed through one of those broken windows, I

by side, so people liked to take shortcuts across the roof to avoid the

had to first throw the postbag through and then climb through myself.

dripping water and the darkness of the alleyways. For this reason,

Once through, I put the bag back on my back. One time, to my astonish-

Mr Lui, my sifu (the senior postman to whom I was a kind of appren-

ment, I climbed through one window and was detained by two plain-

tice) and I were nicknamed ‘the rooftop posties’. Ultimately, there

clothes policemen. They asked me if I was a thief, but I explained that

were only two of us, master and apprentice, who really had the skills

this way of delivering letters was the most convenient, especially as

you needed to operate in this environment. No other postman was able

there were no lifts in the high-rise buildings! You climb 12 floors and

to master it.

then go back down again, then up another nine floors and down again

– that’s really tough! Listening to me, the two policemen laughed:

Although the buildings of the Walled City were of varying

heights, there would usually only be one or two floors difference. When

“Well, that’s an original way of doing the job!” Later, each time these

it was only one floor, people drew on their collective common sense

two policemen saw me, we would exchange greetings. Sometimes, we

and bridged the gap with the help of a ladder. When the gap between

would sit at a store inside the City and drink soft drinks together.

rooftops was two or three floors, the residents would open or break a

window in a lower corridor of the taller building, and put a stool under

really stump a lot of people, but Mr Lui and I took to it like fish to

it so people could climb out on to the lower rooftop. Then they would

Working out how to deliver letters in the Walled City would

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With lifts in just two of the City’s 350 or so buildings, access to the upper floors of the 10- to 14-storey apartment blocks was nearly always by stairs, necessitating considerable climbs for those who lived near the top. This was partly alleviated by an extraordinary system of interconnecting stairways, bridges and corridors at different levels within the City, which took shape – somewhat organically – during the construction boom of the 1960s and early ’70s. It was possible, for example, to travel across the City from north to south – at about the third or fourth storey – without once coming down to street level. Along such a route, a single staircase might link two, three or even four buildings, creating a convoluted network of routes through and across the City that even the most experienced residents rarely mastered. Unsurprisingly, they preferred to stick to the tried and trusted routes they knew well, with hand-painted notices offering directions to various businesses along the way.

Hui Tung Choy 170

Hui Tung Choy at work in his tiny noodle-making factory, barely 200 square feet in area. Without windows, the only ventilation came from the narrow doorway where it opened on to Kwong Ming Street, one of the City’s larger alleys but itself lacking in an overabundance of fresh air. Unsurprisingly, like most factories in the City, working conditions during the summer months could be gruelling. Although the family owned an apartment on a higher floor in the same building, his two daughters would often join Hui and his wife in the factory after school.

171

202 As a young child in the early 1980s, Yu Wing Leung, better known as Yu-Yi, went to school near the Walled City and even ventured into its alleys occasionally, though he confesses he remembers little of what he saw there.

Growing up to become a talented writer and illustrator of fantasy stories and ‘manga’ comics, he later reflected on his childhood memories: “I didn’t live near [the City], but I used to pass it on my way to school. I was quite interested in it, but I didn’t try to find out more. Then, when I was in Japan, I came across a book, the Japanese edition of City of Darkness, and I was fascinated by the photographs inside. After that I began to read stories about the Walled City and the more I read, the more I wanted to write about it.” Borrowing the title City of

Darkness, he wrote a novel that did fairly well, but the story really made its mark when he later converted it into a weekly manga that eventually ran to 32 issues of 40 pages each. As can be seen, in part this drew heavily on photographs that can be found in this book. It proved an immediate hit, selling 20,000 copies a week, and Yu-Yi went on to produce an equally successful sequel.

203

Born in the Chiu Chow region of Guandong Province in 1920, Wong Hoi Ming spent much of his youth in Thailand before being expelled back to China in 1938, for campaigning against the Japanese occupation of Manchuria. Leaving his wife and family to protect the family land in China, he fled to Hong Kong alone in 1949.

When I first arrived here from China, I became the head of a ‘coolie’

Wong Hoi Ming

gang on Hong Kong Island in Western District. I was pretty good at martial arts, and when people were injured in fights I would fix them

healed cases of paralysis when they’ve come to me early enough. One

up. You see, I’d learnt a bit of medicine and kung fu when I was in

person I remember, a man named Ng, was to have his legs amputated.

Thailand, and I then studied under some masters in Chiu Chow.

However, he refused to have the operation and came to see me instead

and I cured him. Now his son, daughter and son-in-law all see me. I

I was persuaded to take my medical practices more seriously,

and a friend helped me to get a business licence. I began practising on

even treated a policeman once.

Hong Kong Island, but when the building I was living in was demolish-

ed I moved to the Walled City. I’d been coming here to teach martial

suggest they give me more; if not, I ask for less. A patient from Kwun

arts, so I knew the place quite well and knew it was cheap.

Tong – a vegetable seller – always brings me a carton of cigarettes! I

could be charging $400 to $500 for a single treatment if I wanted. My

My students came from all walks of life – some were drivers,

I don’t have fixed fees. If my clients seem to be well off, I

others fish sellers, factory hands, air-conditioner repairers, you name

income’s never very stable, though. Sometimes, I don’t get a single

it. They were learning martial arts for self-defence. I didn’t ask for

client for days or even weeks. I’ve been in this apartment since I came

money when someone became my student; they would just burn some

to the Walled City. The rent here was originally just $150 per month;

incense and that was it. No money. Sometimes my students would

then it went up to $300, so I bought the place. Actually I was told to

bring food or fruit – that was enough. The last of my real students left

leave, but the owner was not able to get me out. But now I will have

some time ago and I haven’t taken any more since. Of course, I knew

to leave. I’m getting around $140,000 for this place, but nothing for

most of the ‘big brothers’ round here. They were Chiu Chow as am I,

being a herbal doctor which I think is unfair. The other doctors are

but I didn’t get involved. I just try to get along with my neighbours;

getting a lot more.

the kids round here greet me as uncle.

no sunlight and my health has gone downhill since I started living here.

There was a time when I let people play mahjong here. There

The apartment itself took a little time to get used to. There’s

was room for two tables and I charged a small commission; people

Both air-conditioners work, but one’s too noisy so I normally only use

would also leave what they wanted for the facilities. But I stopped that

the one and keep the fan on all day instead. My bathroom and lavatory

a few years ago. It’s a small space and if patients came for a consul-

are just outside, which I share with another person. It’s alright to cook

tation when the mahjong players were here I couldn’t really do my job

here as well; I always prepare my own food. A friend lives upstairs and

properly. Most of my patients suffer from rheumatism, though I also

comes down to eat with me in the evening.

treat people with fight injuries, back problems and numbness in the

body. I’ve got them all written up. My treatment includes identifying

11 grandchildren still live in China – I am the only one in Hong Kong.

the main symptoms, the use of heated cups on the body and the

They phone me and we meet in Shenzhen quite regularly. I always take

application of herbal poultices. I also use massage and stretching. I

them things – jeans and suchlike. Last year I went back to my home

make hot herbal medicines as well, and many people come to buy these

village twice. I have applied for my second son and one grandson to join

for their rheumatism. Most of my clients come from around here,

me in Hong Kong, but it hasn’t been approved yet.

though there are some who come from as far as Shatin and Aberdeen.

with me if they know me; I’m not worried. I take my own medicinal

I always manage to cure people. Last year I treated a guy

who couldn’t move his arm. Now he’s completely recovered. I’ve even

My wife has passed away, and my sons, daughters-in-law and

Now I just take each day as it comes. People will get in touch

liquor twice a day, never a drop more. It’s a good nutritious wine that I prepare myself: various nourishing herbs and vegetables are in it.

Would you like to try it? It’s a little sweet.

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Tin Hau Temple

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The tiled roof of Tin Hau Temple (left), as seen from below the metal grill protecting it from all manner of refuse dispatched from the surrounding apartments (above). Built in 1951 on an alley off Lo Yan Street, the City’s Tin Hau Temple was a replacement for a temple that had once stood in a nearby coastal village. The building had been torn down during the Japanese occupation, to make way for the extension of the airport, but local community leaders had managed to arrange the safekeeping of the main shrine. Temples dedicated to Tin Hau, the patron goddess of fishermen, are usually found close to the sea, but with its large community of Chiu Chow immigrants – once fishermen themselves – the Walled City made an ideal alternative. It was a simple working temple guarded by an irascible dog and the protective mesh grill, which was cleared just once a year .

In 1974, in response to pervasive corruption in Hong Kong, the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) was established. Its success meant that the Triads found it more difficult to operate in the colony and for a time their activities in the Walled City grew once again. In this new environment the uncertain legal status of the Walled City offered some protection, though not from the most serious crimes. But, as there was always going to be more money to be made from unlawful activities elsewhere in Hong Kong, the Walled City gradually became something of a backwater as far as most illegal activities were concerned.

There was a time when new migrants, the legal ones, were

respectful towards us. Now they’re rather nasty and feel that they are superior to us. They’re forever saying they’ll report us! Quite a sizeable proportion of the City’s residents are new migrants.

I knew Mr Chan, the secretary of the Kai Fong, well. He was

always friendly towards me. He passed on information somewhat nonchalantly, and I nonchalantly picked it up! The Kai Fong used to act as a mediator in disputes and promote solidarity. Now it’s involved with various arrangements arising from the impending demolition. It used to be run by older people.

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It took 36 hours for Government officials to register all the

residents and housing units following the announcement of the clearance. Actually, on the evening after the announcement, dozens of lorries brought furniture and other things back to the City. Some people tried to offer us a pay-off to testify that they had been a resident for a certain length of time!

How did I like working in the Walled City? I have to admit I

enjoyed my time there – I got to see and understand things you don’t find elsewhere in Hong Kong, like opium dens with people lying on the floor smoking. I saw them but couldn’t do anything. I also got on well with the residents – I even played mahjong with them sometimes.

255

But not so the Walled City. For reasons that seem inexplic-

able in hindsight, the Hong Kong Government decided it would be best

shall continue to exercise jurisdiction except so far as may be incon-

if the development of a squatter settlement within the boundaries

sistent with the military requirements for the defence of Hong Kong.”

(though no longer the walls) of the Walled City was nipped in the bud,

Within a year, all such officials had been expelled and by an Order in

and in January 1948 it launched an operation to demolish all the

Council of 1899 it was determined that: “the city of Kowloon shall

illegal huts there and evict the residents. Perhaps they foresaw the

be … part and parcel of Her Majesty’s Colony of Hong Kong, in like

problems that uncontrollable growth would pose – though no one then

manner and for all intents and purposes as if it had originally formed

could have imagined just how large the Walled City would become.

part of the said Colony.”

Rather than drawing attention to its special status, might it not have

been better to let the area develop under the same guidelines imposed

accepted by the Chinese, who continued to claim that they were entitled

on all other squatter settlements? Did the authorities, even then, fear

to exercise jurisdiction in the area. In 1948, as Colonial Office papers

that this might not be possible? We will never know, but the failure

held at the National Archives, Kew (file CO 537/4807), record: “Nego-

of that clearance operation was to have ramifications which affected

tiations were opened with the Chinese Government for a settlement of

every aspect of the Walled City’s growth over the next 40 years.

this troublesome question, but it was impossible to reach an agreement.

The problem for the Hong Kong Government hinged on the

The idea was raised of taking the case to arbitration at the Inter-

now well-worn phrase in the 1898 Convention – under which the New

national Court, but the Law Officers felt Hong Kong’s case rested

Territories was leased to Great Britain – that specifically stated:

on proving that China could not return to the City on the grounds of

“within the City of Kowloon the Chinese officials now stationed there

military security, which would be open to cross examination under

Fine words, but as a unilateral act the Order had never been

which proving the case would be uncertain.

“The choice was therefore between making further efforts to

reach a compromise settlement [or] letting the matter lie. In view of the uncertainty of survival of the Nationalist Government and the doubt whether the Communist administration would honour any such compromise agreement, the latter alternative was adopted.” In short, Government authority in the City would henceforward be, if not entirely non-existent, certainly minimal.

A report prepared by the Commissioner of Police in March

1953 (file CO 1030/394), while noting that the situation was “most unsatisfactory”, goes on to explain just how worrying a position the Hong Kong Government found themselves in. “Whatever the grounds 272

domestically for the exercise of jurisdiction … it seems likely that any open claim, eg by trying an offence committed in the area in the Hong Kong courts, would invite challenge by Chinese Communist interests and might lead, if not to an appeal to the International Court, at least to a spate of propaganda and perhaps even to a demand from the Central People’s Government to establish their own court in the ‘City’ or to take over cases of offences committed there.”

Smoking opium in Hong Kong during the early 1950s. It was a two-man operation: one to hold the bead of opium resin over the flame of an oil lamp, the other to inhale the resulting smoke through a pipe. A young boy or the owner of the opium den would assist those who arrived alone.

A simple opium pipe, most probably confiscated during a raid on an opium den. The pipe did not hold the opium itself but was used to draw in the smoke as it rose from a bead of heated opium resin, known in Chinese as ‘chasing the dragon’.

pletely and, more importantly, most of those arrested would avoid prosecution. In many ways it was a criminal nirvana and the explosion of illegal activities there is quite staggering. In a Savingram, dated 11 March 1955, to the Secretary of State for the Colonies from the Governor, Sir Robert Black (file CO 1030/934), a later police report is quoted as stating that in a reconnaissance of the area in November 1954, they found among other things 120 narcotic divans, 20 brothels and five gambling houses.

The same report went on to note that even as early as 1952,

the police had recorded 154 drug divans, seven gambling dens, 15 dogmeat shops, 11 brothels and one theatre, accommodating 300 people, that was putting on two striptease performances per day. The report

This was clearly unacceptable, but it did not mean that the

continues: “this theatre, known as the Lung Kung, was then playing to

City was left completely to its own devices. As the Commissioner

capacity audiences and was proving so popular that by the middle of

makes clear in the same report, apart from a few short periods, police

February 1953 three other theatres had opened, each more daring

patrols had continued as normal – even if what happened when arrests

than the other and all playing to capacity crowds.”

were made was anything but. “Our present practice is, while patrol-

ling the area and apprehending, whenever possible, those committing

Walled City … [which] proved a golden opportunity for vice operators

offences there, not to bring cases to court but to deal with them admin-

who bought up building sites at very high prices. By 17.3.53, eight new

istratively by the confiscation of narcotics, etc, and, where appropriate,

theatres had been completed on the former fire site [and] four shops

the deportation of offenders.” In practice, this meant that most of

had been converted into theatres doing striptease acts, making a total

those arrested were released after spending just a night or two in the

of 16. The fire, coupled with the striptease shows, attracted great

cells. Only the most serious offenders were deported and, because no

public attention to the Walled City. Vernacular newspapers gave added

action was taken against them in China, many eventually found their

publicity to the theatres and dog-meat shops and other ‘attractions’, as

way back to Hong Kong.

a result of which the place was thronged with patrons from all parts of

the Colony.”

The Commissioner’s report continues: “Although unsatis-

The report went on: “On 24.2.53, a large fire occurred in the

factory in many respects, it is proposed, subject to your views, to

continue this policy so long as the type of offences committed remains

note that in the 1950s this mixture of ‘glamour’ and the illicit was not

as described in the Memorandum by the Commissioner of Police.”

restricted to Hong Kong. One thinks of Frank Sinatra and his alleged

Rather prophetically as it turned out, he added: “In the event of com-

mafia connections in Las Vegas, or at a slightly more provincial level

mission of a serious crime such as a murder, the situation would have

Barbara Windsor and the Kray brothers in the UK, but it is certainly

to be reviewed in the light of the circumstances of the case and the

clear that far from being considered a place to be avoided, many Hong

conditions of the time.”

Kong residents were happy to sample the City’s delights. Contempor-

ary records from the time – since corroborated by many of the Walled

Unsurprisingly, word of this unusual arrangement soon got

Perhaps it was a more innocent time, but it is interesting to

out and by the early 1950s illegal businesses of all kinds were flooding

City residents we have spoken to while putting together this new edition

into the City, safe in the knowledge that while the police might be able

– mention the number of luxury cars that could be found parked at

to disrupt their operations, they were unable to close them down com-

night along Tung Tau Tsuen Road, some it was rumoured belonging to local Hong Kong film stars.

273

Lam Leung Po

licence. I could probably get a licence if I wanted to, since I’m doing the same job, but we don’t really need one here.

What I’m making now is minced fish. We also make fish

dumplings and squidballs – three products altogether. I’ve been makLam Leung Po (above) became a partner in his minced-fish factory in

ing these since we started. The fish used in the dumplings is not the

1983. Located in an alley off Tai Chang Street, his business was just one

same as that for the fishballs; it’s eel which is quite expensive. The

of many food-processing factories in an area conveniently close to the

squid for the squidballs comes from Thailand. I used to mix things by

one Government stand-pipe to be found in the City.

hand, but now I use this mixer. It’s no big deal – just put the stuff in, mix it and then stir.

292

This business has been here, in the Walled City, for about eight or nine

years. It used to be just outside, in the Sai Tau Tsuen squatter village

the staff has kept on expanding. A few neighbours – ladies – help me

before it was pulled down. That place opened a long time ago.

with the fish dumplings. I have five full-time workers as well, making

seven of us in all with me and my partner. The dumpling makers are

I joined the business only after it had moved here. The shop’s

There weren’t so many helpers in the beginning, but over time

quite big: around 480 square feet. We did a little decoration when we

just part-time. We make about 300 catties of minced fish a day. If we

first moved in; it wasn’t always like this. I’ve no idea what it was before

have more orders, we just work harder. It would be easier if we had

we arrived. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, but I wouldn’t say it was

more helpers, but I won’t bring in more people now.

that difficult either. Nobody asked us for protection money. The rent

was cheaper here and the hygiene regulations were not so trouble-

less on Tuesdays, because traditionally not many people eat fish then.

some; that was the most convenient part.

They tend to eat more on the other days, mainly in hotpots. At the

moment we sell the minced fish to over 200 shops, the fish dumplings

Everything was much simpler here somehow. We’ve never

Most of my customers come from outside the City. We make

had a hygiene inspector visit, for example, not once. Of course, busi-

go to several dozen places and the squidballs to around 100 shops.

nesses outside are doing things much the same way, but they need a

That’s already quite a lot, but it’ll be more as the weather gets cooler and demand rises.

Bundled up against the chill of a Hong Kong winter and the workshop’s air-conditioning, female parttime workers prepare minced fish dumplings. Apart from the low table, presumably for easy access to stacked materials on the floor, the factory was one of City’s cleaner and better equipped food processing establishments, and did a brisk trade with shops and restaurants in the neighborhood and beyond.

43

The topography of the City’s roofscape had a life and dynamic of its own. Numerous illegal structures added to the top of buildings set the tone. There were small private gardens, tangles of television aerials and cabling, washing lines, makeshift water tanks, and a myriad of crevices and cracks of all sizes between the buildings. Rubbish, as always, and a devil-may-care dilapidation were ubiquitous, and weeds grew profusely on the few roofs that were inaccessible. During the final clearance, teams of masked and suited workers were seen stripping the corrugated asbestos sheeting, so prevalent on the roofscape and elsewhere in the City, to make the demolition process less hazardous.

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Early evening brought whole families up to the roof. A grandmother would keep her eye on her own grandchildren as well as the children of her neighbours, while her daughter prepared supper in an apartment below. An exciting playground despite the detritus of people’s unwanted fittings and furniture, the roof thronged with children out of school hours, either playing noisily or sitting quietly to one side doing their homework. In a few places there was even enough room to ride a bike.

Life on the Roof

323

Though the vast majority of the 33,000 residents accepted the rehousing and compensation package offered – with many leaving the City for new housing well before their allotted deadline – a small minority of just a few hundred vociferously rejected the clearance as illegal and immoral.

In extreme cases, a few dozen of the most strident objectors had to be forcibly evicted from their premises, with some continuing their protest in the form of a sit-in on the pavement along Tung Tau Tsuen Road and refusing to leave.

In terms of the clearance, among the hardest hit were the small factory owners, their compensation being calculated against proof of turnover and profit, a nigh on impossible task for those who had never bothered with accurate book-keeping.

members must have been in continuous residence in Hong Kong for seven years.

Genuine residents would also be eligible for rehousing if they’d been living in the Walled City on, and since, 14 January 1987. Those who were eligible for public rental housing, and had a minimum of two relatives in their household, could opt to buy a Home Ownership Scheme apartment by using the priority green status, or could apply for a loan under the Home Purchase Loan Scheme to buy a flat in the private sector. Those who didn’t meet these criteria would be offered temporary housing.

All owners, whether resident or absentee, were to be offered the fair

market value of their premises, plus a Home Purchase Allowance to enable them to buy alternative premises elsewhere, preferably in the same area. There being no lease conditions within the Walled City, it was – as the Special Committee frankly put it – ‘difficult’ to classify premises according to usage, so it didn’t: owners of shops, factories or homes were to be treated alike for compensation purposes.

Statutory compensation would be payable to legal occupiers of com-

mercial and industrial properties. Anticipating “resistance to clearance arising from the necessary lead time” needed to assess and pay such statutory compensation, the Special Committee would also make ex-gratia allowances. These would vary according to removal costs, decoration costs, fees and a sliding scale

that the ex gratia allowance to legal tenants should not be less than the ex gratia

based on the location of the premises being cleared; there was a specific proviso

allowance payable to squatters.

A special sub-package even existed for the unlicensed “medical and

dental proprietors/practitioners” for which the City was famous. They were to be offered a lump-sum payment of HK$342,000, which was the three-year salary of a medical and dental technician on HK$9500 per month. (This didn’t apply to all the Walled City’s professions; prostitutes were rehoused without any additional packages.)

As such detail would suggest, the Special Committee was simultaneous-

ly stating its legal position, while signalling a certain degree of flexibility. From the start, there was – literally, as it turned out – a recalibration of boundaries. In May 1987, the Buildings and Lands Department conducted a survey on a random selection of premises and found they were usually 23.44 square metres. This was taken as the average until it was later discovered to be too low (26 square metres was deemed more accurate), and an additional HK$119 million had to be paid out. Six years later, in 1993, the Director of Buildings and Lands would tell the Executive Council that his department had been “under no impression” that

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