City Hero, the Factory Cleaner (Part 3)

August 31st, 2024:

After the Jingtai Factory moved out of Shenzhen, Aunt Liu’s husband went to work at a rice noodle factory in Guizhou, following his sister there. But after a while, the hard labor took a toll on his health, and after a surgery in 2019, he returned to Shenzhen, where he became a street cleaner. He first worked for a cleaning company, sweeping the commercial streets, earning over 3,000 yuan a month if he worked overtime. He later switched to another cleaning company, where he now earns a base salary of 3,500 yuan a month, with social insurance coverage. On holidays, he receives a 200-yuan bonus per day, and during the summer, there’s a high-temperature allowance of 300 yuan spread over four to five months.

“During Chinese New Year, they usually give us gifts like rice and cooking oil too. But last year, they didn’t. No one knows if it was the cleaning company’s decision or the government’s. Each month, all the cleaners can receive a “charity meal” (burgers, pizza, etc.) for free once, though some cleaners working for other cleaning companies get it once a week. Some say twice a week, I don’t really know. Over summer, if the streets they’re assigned to sweep and clean have businesses or homes along the sides, they can sometimes pop inside to cool off. But the roads my husband cleans don't have any of that, so he’s out in the scorching sun almost all day. The work is exhausting. He most often works two hours of overtime each day, and he’s even asked the cleaning company for more overtime hours to boost his pay sometimes. He’s also assigned to two long streets that used to be cleaned by two, but now all of that is on him; so he has double the normal amount of tasks others have. He’s reserved, silent; he didn’t really say anything about that. But I told him that he’s gotta ask – for more overtime hours or re-assignment of tasks. But the company always replies, ‘If you want to work the job, work. If not, leave. There are plenty of people waiting to take your place.’ So, he just stopped asking.”

Now 58, Aunt Liu’s husband won’t be able to pay into his social security plan in Shenzhen municipality in two years, at which time he’ll turn 60, the legal age for required retirement. After that, he’ll have to switch to paying for it himself, and the payment will be directed back to his hometown village collective. According to China Labor Bulletin Review on China’s Social Security System, “the basic framework for China’s state pension system was set up in 1997 under the State Council Decision on the Establishment of a Unified Basic Pension System for Enterprise Workers. Both employees and employers are required to make contributions to the pension system. Workers contribute based on their individual wage, at a rate of up to eight percent, while employers contribute a percentage of the total wages paid to their workforce, initially around 20 percent. For decades in China, there was a separate pension system for civil servants and other government employees such as teachers, who did not need to pay their own pension contributions and were entitled to a generous government-subsidized pension on retirement…Workers become eligible for pension benefits when they reach the statutory retirement age, but only if they have participated in the scheme for at least 15 years…Ideally, there needs to be a single unified national pension fund. However, while some individual provinces have successfully pooled local funds, significant differences in regional development, local fund imbalances, and contribution and payment rates means that creating a national system that covers everyone, including migrant workers and the informally employed, will be extremely difficult.” This holds true for Aunt Liu’s husband.

The social security plans in Shenzhen and his hometown follow different policies, and are operated by different local governmental entities. So after he switches to a social security plan in his hometown, he needs to contribute for another 15 years to qualify for a pension. If he doesn’t, he can get a refund for the portion he personally contributed, and not the portion his employers paid for him (currently, this number is set at 318 yuan per month). “This is the best we can get. You see, they say that the boss – not us – paid for half of our pension plan, so they can’t give us back that portion. But when the boss was deciding how much wage we earn, of course he factored in what he needed to pay in our pension plan. If they weren’t required to pay into our plan, they would’ve paid us higher wages.”

Aunt Liu and her husband decided he won’t continue paying for the social security plan. For now, he can still use his health insurance to cover most of his medical bills, but this will also end when he turns 60. In China, “both workers and employers must make payments to the basic medical insurance scheme which, like the pension scheme, comprises an individual account as well as pooled funds. Workers’ contribution goes directly to their individual account, while employer contributors are included in the pooled funds. Once the worker has paid into the system for the requisite number of years, they are eligible for benefits without having to make additional contributions…The medical insurance fund pays for general outpatient expenses, treatment of serious illness and hospitalization. Different regions have different regulations on minimum and maximum payment amounts and reimbursement ratios for employee medical insurance. Workers are now able to use their individual accounts to cover medical treatment for family members. But in 2020, the per capita cumulative balance of individual accounts stood at just 2,919 yuan…Moreover, to be eligible for public insurance funds, hospital treatments must be on a pre-approved government list; treatments outside of the pre-approved list must be paid out of either the worker’s individual account or their own pocket. Coverage for outpatient treatment and medicines is even more limited. This means that people who need outpatient treatment and medicine often have to buy additional private medical insurance, pay for treatment out of their own pocket or forgo treatment altogether.” After he’s reached the retirement age, the employers of Aunt Liu’s husband won’t be required by law – and in fact, they’re prohibited by law – to pay into his medical insurance plan. So his personal medical insurance in Shenzhen municipality will expire with his legal retirement, though he’ll “probably continue to work as a ‘re-employed worker.'”

As for Aunt Liu, she has to pay out of pocket for medical expenses in Shenzhen, though she is enrolled in, and contributes to, the rural cooperative medical insurance back in her hometown. It costs her 380 yuan a year, and while it doesn’t cover minor illnesses, it does reimburse 70-80% of the costs for major medical treatments, offering at least some buffer against serious diseases.