Last week, we reviewed the never-ending good fortune of the 45 percent of Hong Kong's population who enjoy the benefits of heavily subsidized public housing, living in near-perpetual security and happiness at virtual peppercorn rentals.

Now let us turn to a murkier side of the public housing bonanza - the cheats who should be kicked out, plus the sly tricks other tenants get involved in.

Some families who are officially tenants of units in older estates simply haven't occupied those premises for years - but, having been allocated them a couple of decades ago, regard retaining them as their god-given "right" and use various devious ploys to give the appearance that they are still occupants of the premises and so conceal their crafty objective.

This deception is generally done through a son or daughter (listed on the tenancy records since their birth) who goes to the premises once a fortnight or so, unlocks the iron gate and door, and stays for a night or two, giving the appearance of being a full-time occupant.

They make sure that lights are turned on and TV and hi-fis are used so that the electricity bill will tick on smoothly, contributing to the impression that the unit is properly occupied. And, perhaps, a tap is left lightly dripping when they depart, again to add "evidence" of constant water-usage as "proof" that the flat is occupied.

The fact that their gross selfishness means that another deserving family on the waiting list must continue life squashed into a "squat" means absolutely nothing to these cunning families.

Why aren't the cheats detected by the Housing Department staff? Ah, good question! Until the 1970s or 1980s, door-to-door rent collections were made across each block in every estate, and if nobody answered the knock at the door the unit would be re-visited until somebody opened the door and coughed up the rent.

But as more young females joined the department's staff and thus became rent collectors, some nasty incidents began occurring. Grizzled old tenants in a bad mood harassed the females, and occasionally there were nastier incidents when young toughs menaced them and tried to seize their cash bags.

So it was decided that rather than rents being collected door-to-door, the tenants would have to make a monthly visit to the estate office to pay in their rent. (Today, with electronic payment now so widespread, few tenants actually go to the office to pay his/her rent.)

Thus, one problem was solved, but a bigger one created - every month tenants no longer had to be confirmed as living in their allocated premises; they merely had to pay their monthly rent on time.

People who grow up in hillside squatter settlements are extremely sharp-witted folk, and later, when they are granted the privilege of a public housing, are always looking for ways to manipulate the system in their favor - specially a couple of decades later when they had become relatively prosperous, and had three or four near-adult children crammed in with them, some already married.

So, the families bought and moved into larger units in private housing, but hit on the above described stratagems to conceal that their public housing unit was now unoccupied.

Housing staff do make regular inspections to guard against such monkey business but, of course, the schemers get to know which day of the month is inspection day, and make sure someone is inside in case there's an official knock on the door. If asked about a recent absence, the person would likely give a plausible answer such as that the family had been away visiting relatives on the mainland or perhaps overseas - a logical explanation since these tenants are so nicely cashed-up they are regularly in and out of the airport and ferry terminals.

And, of course, officials check such basic points as usage of water and electricity, and again those "boxes" are also "ticked" by the tricky families.

It doesn't take an Einstein to work out how to end this long-lasting racket. A very simple solution would be to pay individual housing staff members a bonus of, say, HK$1,000 for each "sleeper tenant" they expose, regaining the flat concerned for reuse by a deserving new tenant. That would put a spring into the step of the department's staff, give them a keener eye, and make their lethargic questioning a little sharper. Presumably, housing staff have the authority to demand admittance to any unit they wish to inspect, and arguably on entering such premises they would quickly be able to see abundant signs that there has been only one part-time occupant.

Oh, how the bleeding-heart social workers whose special cause is the "plight" of the supposedly down-trodden public housing tenants will throw up their hands in horror at such a mercenary approach!

But imagine how many thousands, if not tens of thousands of these "sleeper" units will become available for bona-fide deserving families on the waiting list.

The author is Op-Ed editor of China Daily Hong Kong Edition. albertlin@chinadailyhk.com

(HK Edition 11/28/2013 page1)