Ordering a pizza? Applying for a job? Registering your child for school in September? You can't do any of these things in the UK if you don't have a postcode. So, as we marvel at Team GB's success at the Olympics in Brazil and await the Paralympic Games, spare a thought this summer for São Paulo's two million favela dwellers, many of whom don't have an address, let alone a postcode.
The reality of life in the favelas – well-known from films like 2002's City of God – is that many of Brazil's low-income families, including the elderly and babies alike, can live in homes made out of corrugated iron, salvaged tarpaulin or recovered wood. Other families who have lived there longer start using bricks, building upwards as and when they can afford to. But these are the lucky ones.
Favelas are informal settlements that spring up out of human necessity on land that would never make the property pages of the papers: next to rivers that flood and have become contaminated, spreading disease, or on hillsides that often become unstable, causing landslides during the intense rainy season.
There is no choice. While rental prices rocket here in our capital, São Paulo is experiencing the same. Just four years ago, it cost less to rent an office in New York than it did in São Paulo. The same applies to housing: with soaring rental prices, the poorest families in the city are often pushed out to live in these environmentally fragile sites.
Living in cramped temporary buildings and without an official address, they struggle to register for a bank account, access public services, or apply for that make-or-break job that might, just might, take them to a better life.
Mother-of-four Josefa Vieira dos Santos (54) – 'Zeza' to her friends – was one of these 'invisible people'. She moved from her home in Alagoas in the northeast of Brazil in 1991 with dreams of making a better life for her and her four children, but her dreams soon became nightmares. "I couldn't afford to live," she says. "I had to either pay the rent, or feed my children – the lives of my children come first."
The only choice she had was to move into a favela in the eastern region of São Paulo.
While Brazil is ranked among the world's top 10 economies, this is not reflected in the lives of the majority of the population, 25.8 million of whom are living in poverty. São Paulo itself is a microcosm of this disparity. A vast city, Brazil's largest at 11 million people and the 12th largest in the world, it is the powerhouse behind the country's recent economic surge.
Forbes – the go-to source for who's rich and who's not – said in 2013 there were 27 billionaires in the city alone. Whether this wealth trickles down to people who live in the favelas is another matter.
Take a helicopter ride across the city and next to the tennis courts for the high rise money makers, you'll see huge favelas where the city's poorest live. You can get in here easily, but getting out is another matter. "For young people living here, getting their first job is very difficult," explains Zeza. "They need a lot of help from the community to escape from drugs and poverty."
But Zeza and her neighbours are determined to make life better for the people here in Divinéia favela, which is home to more than 1,000 families. "I heard about the housing movement when I started Bible classes here and started volunteering for them," says Zeza. "I attended all the courses I could."
The Movement for the Defence of Favelas (MDF) is Zeza's housing movement. Funded by overseas aid agency CAFOD, it has been supporting and training Zeza and other community members to fight for their rights and campaign to improve living conditions in around 40 favelas in Eastern São Paulo.
It isn't easy, as Emily Mulville from CAFOD says: "In the favelas of São Paulo, I have met some of the incredibly inspiring and courageous women. Like Zeza, these women are standing up and speaking out for a better life for their communities and children. The majority of families are female-headed; women who struggle to find childcare and feed their families because they are in precarious, low-paid jobs.
"They want to secure a better, safer future for their families. Many face the constant threat of eviction because their home isn't officially recognised. In other areas, basic services like water, sanitation or public health centres are not formally provided inside the community until the area is recognised.
"The struggle to secure land tenure and titles in informal settlement is long and complex and can take many years. That is why it is important for families to remain organised and continue their campaign."
Now Zeza wants to use what she has learnt to help the community.
Families in Divinéia have been lobbying for the formal recognition of the settlement they live in and title deeds to the homes they built when they first moved to the area years ago. This will mean they will no longer be 'invisible people' in the eyes of the state.
As Emily Mulville says: "In the last year, families have successfully campaigned and won what we may take for granted: a green outdoor space for children to play and adults to relax in. With MDF's support, they have also set up a community garden to grow fresh vegetables, providing food for families and healthy eating workshops, as well as installing water butts to harvest rainwater in response to the ongoing water crisis and drought in the city."
But the real good news is that Zeza and her fellow residents are celebrating. They are winning the fight: "We are all so happy and excited," says Zeza. "We are in the process of updating the legal registries and soon we will have official formal addresses for all of our homes.
"My dream is to see all the families here get the title deeds to their homes and to build a space for young people to study and get job training".
"We fought to conquer our homes, together we built this community," says Zeza. "Here is where I built my self-esteem and my self-worth. I became a citizen and now I can help others defend their rights".
Laura Ouseley is World News Officer at CAFOD.
