By Mbatjiua Ngavirue WINDHOEK Euphemisms unfortunately often serve to obscure rather than enlighten and, although the term ‘informal settlement’ has a nice, sanitized sound, it does not change the daily reality of living in a squatter camp. These squatter camps have mushroomed around every city, town and village throughout Namibia and hav e become a staple of urban life for many. Unless you have been unfortunate enough to have lived in some of them, it is difficult to know which one is worse than the other. One thing, however, is certain – that life in Blikkiesdorp in Grootfontein is no picnic. Grootfontein has become a magnet for Namibians from as far away as the Northern regions of the Caprivi, Kavango, Tsumkwe and former Hereroland who all come there seeking employment, or any other way of making their fortune. Many of these internal migrants end up in Blikkiesdorp – official population 2ÃÆ’Æ‘ÀÃ…ÃÆ”šÃ‚ 000 according to the Grootfontein Municipality – but who actually knows? With many of the residents unemployed the settlement, like many other squatter camps, is plagued by poverty, crime and alcohol abuse. Wilhelm Muronga is a typical resident of Blikkiesdorp, having come from Nankundu in Kavango in search of work. He is one of the lucky ones who actually managed to find employment as a pump-jockey at a service station in town, and now lives with his wife and family in Blikkiesdorp. He, however, described life in the township as very difficult and unsafe. There are no streetlights, with residents having to rely on two lonely floodlights to cover the entire settlement, making it dangerous to move around at night. Women are regularly raped, whether during the day or at night-time. Muronga said women could not even go out to collect wood in the nearby veld without risking being raped, unless accompanied by a male relative. “Children can’t be left to play in the street because they get killed. Sometimes parents search for a child for two or three days, only to find the child dead in a bush,” a distressed Muronga said. The fact that there is no electricity forces people to use candles, which results in shacks and houses being regularly set on fire. Muronga also complained that people could not leave their washing out to dry on the line because thieves would steal it. A unique feature of Blikkiesdorp, despite its name, is that many of the dwellings are not the usual zinc shacks but traditional mud huts, including Muronga’s. He explained that, as many residents are from the Kavango, they build mud huts because it saves on costs and because it is the tradition of their people. Alberta Tensman (60), another Blikkiesdorp resident, painted an equally bleak picture of life in the settlement. The lack of toilets was her biggest complaint, with only two public toilets to accompany the two floodlights mounted on high poles. “It’s unhygienic, because the two toilets are too far away to go to at night. If I have a running stomach in the middle of the night, I have to squat in my own yard or in the street just outside my yard,” she complained. Although each section of Blikkiesdorp is supposed to have its own water tap, she said there are not enough of them. The old lady also mentioned the frequent rapes because of the lack of streetlights. She said someone raped a young girl recently, and a man raped his own six-year-old nephew the month before. Women were able to walk around at night, but the risk of rape increased significantly at the end of the month when people were drunk. Tensman survives on her pension, which she uses to support two grown daughters and several grandchildren. Her husband has a part-time job collecting refuse for the municipality.