National interest vs community needs

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Turkish Airlines has generated revenue surpassing $17.8 billion in the first nine months of 2025, posting a third quarter profit of $1.billion, the carrier said in a press statement. With strong October traffic results, including a 19% increase in passenger numbers and a 16% increase in cargo volume, the trend for the future looks positive. The airline carried 27.2 million passengers in the third quarter.
Turkish Airlines Chair Bolat stated; “As Türkiye’s most valuable brand on the international stage and a global leader in worldwide aviation sector, we will continue to grow and invest in line with our 2033 strategy. Our focus goes beyond profitability – we are committed to achieving long-term and sustainable success.” Meanwhile, Turkish Airlines has relaunched four weekly flights between Istanbul and Sulaymaniyah in Iraq, which were stopped in 2023. The destination will add to other cities: &nbsp;Baghdad, Basra, Erbil, Kirkuk, and Najaf.&nbsp;

Turkish profit up

Aloft Kathmandu Thamel hosted the US-Nepal Gastronomy Exchange, bringing Michelin-starred chefs from the US, France, Singapore, Dubai and Nepal. The highlight La Grande Bhoj held on 9 November reimagined Nepali flavours over seven courses such as bara with bhang sauce, sisno geele, yak cheese foam, an egg, and juniper-ginger aila.

Aloft gastronomy

A government task force under the NOC has concluded that natural gas reserves discovered in Dailekh by a Chinese team could be used for power, fertiliser, cooking, and transportation. The drilling in Dailekh went 4,013m deep, and the site is expected to contain 112 million cubic metres of gas. The task force has recommended prioritising the production of urea fertiliser.

Dailekh gas use

The past, the present, and the future are really one: they are today. -Harriet Beecher Stowe  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122609120_5c63a3201a7231b9334f98a3a1af867acfc1264e29fc3081810a565a270bde6f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122609120_5c63a3201a7231b9334f98a3a1af867acfc1264e29fc3081810a565a270bde6f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="2700" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1241"> </figure>

The past, the present, and the future are really one

In the aftermath of the GenZ protests last month, as new PM Sushila Karki chose the first members of her Council of Ministers, youth collectives urged that it reflect the country’s diversity by including women, youth and people from various ethnic and socio-cultural backgrounds.&nbsp;
It took another couple of weeks for Karki to include &nbsp;bureaucrat and public health expert Sangeeta Mishra as &nbsp;Health Minister in her next tranche of ministers. Almost immediately, people dug up a video of Mishra calling herself “Nepali, but a native Indian”.
She was telling it like it was: Mishra is a naturalised Nepali citizen. But there was outrage in the ultra-nationalistic cybersphere. Mishra’s name was withdrawn from the list of ministers, with government officials citing an ongoing investigation at the CIAA.&nbsp;
With her Cabinet still incomplete a month after taking office, Prime Minister Karki was preparing to induct GenZ as ministers. A leak in the media floated the names, one of which was of Tashi Lhazom, a climate activist and filmmaker from Humla’s Limi Valley.&nbsp;
Almost immediately, social media erupted with discriminatory, xenophobic and misogynistic epithets against her: that she supported a separatist movement, that she was a foreign agent, that her citizenship was disputed, that she did not ‘look’ or ‘speak’ like a Nepali.&nbsp;
Political figures like Gyanendra Shahi, a prominent voice calling for the restoration of a Hindu monarchy, added fuel to the fire by making bigoted and false remarks about her heritage.
The former Commissioner of the National Human Rights Commission, Mohna Ansari, wrote on social media that it was shameful to question Lhazom’s identity: ‘Ms Tashi Lhazom is as Nepali as you are. Our society’s ugliest face and biggest flaw is doubting our own. Real patriotism embraces diversity — fake nationalism must end.’
Ansari, a human rights lawyer and activist, has also often been subject to Islamophobic and derogatory comments on digital platforms. &nbsp;
In response, the Indigenous GenZ Collective released Lhazom’s Nepali citizenship certificate to debunk the mistruths spreading on digital as well as mainstream media.
What makes a Nepali? What does a Nepali look or sound like? Who is a Nepali?
‘Had my name been Tashi Poudel, Thapa, Bhattarai or Ghimire, this would not have happened,’ Lhazom said in an interview with Kantipur following an avalanche of bigotry against her. ‘They questioned me because I do not look Nepali, or speak Nepali like a Khas. Because it is not my mother tongue.’
It is an indictment of Nepali society that indigenous Nepalis have to present proof, at the slightest inconvenience of mostly the dominant groups, of being a citizen of this nation simply because they might not fit into an imagined idea of Nepali nationhood by virtue of physical appearance, speech, geography, or faith.
And while we celebrate the successes of Nepal-born naturalised foreign citizens (some now hold elected office in the US) we refuse to afford the same respect to naturalised Nepali citizens, and those born in Nepal to excluded groups, nor do we expect them to work in the national interest if they are given responsibility to govern. And women are singled out twice as much for scrutiny.
Then cyber Nepal went into a tizzy when videos appeared of a biker’s group clad in black t-shirts emblazoned with the acronym ‘TOB’ which was interpreted to stand for ‘Tibetan Original Blood’ and linked to the Free Tibet movement.
The accusations snowballed into disinformation, xenophobia, and even calls for violence against Nepalis of Tibetan heritage and the Tibetan community in Nepal.&nbsp;
In the aftermath of the September protest, the hope was that politics and the bureaucracy would finally be rid of orthodox political actors. But first, we as a nation need to collectively examine the biases and bigotry that exist in Nepal’s socio-cultural space.&nbsp;
Otherwise, Nepal’s multiculturalism will be limited to just words in the Constitution and political tokenism.
No one who is in government now or in future can be expected to be completely free of subjective opinions, ideology, affiliation to a cause, or prior activism. And such criticism falls disproportionately on activists, advocates, and members from underserved and underrepresented communities.&nbsp;
One cannot be apolitical and hope to participate in politics, and as we move forward to rebuild the system it must not just reflect diverse communities, but also celebrate diversity of thought and beliefs.&nbsp;
Resorting to ethnocentrism, racism and chauvinism with conspiracy theories and discriminatory dog-whistling about fellow citizens is a disservice to Nepali nationhood. It is Nepal’s diversity that makes us strong.&nbsp;
Shristi Karki

What makes a Nepali?

Prime Minister Juddha Shamsher Rana built the NJJR probably to transport logs cut on his forested birta land north of Janakpur to sell in India. The 2’6” narrow-gauge railway extended north from Jaynagar, India 29km to Janakpur and another 22km to Bhutaha/Bijalpura, cost 680,000 Indian rupees to build, and opened for business December 1937. The Nepali engineer in charge of construction was Capt Tilak Bahadur Rayamajhi, who in 1908 was one of the first Nepalis to receive a civil engineering degree in India.&nbsp; After 1950, the line from Janakpur to Bhutaha had little commercial value and was out of service. Until the late 1970s, there were no proper motorable roads connecting Dhanusha and Mahottari Districts with India. The NJJR was the only transportation alternative for people who had to otherwise go on foot, bicycle or ox carts to India.&nbsp; The NJJR also played an important role in religious tourism, as hundreds of thousands Indian pilgrims visited Janakpur annually to participate in the Bibaha Panchami, Rama Navami, and Janaki Navami. For the Bihari peasant bound for Janaki Mandir in 1955, sitting on the roof of a slow-moving train was a luxury compared to trudging 29km on foot from the Indian border. The first manager of the NJJR in Janakpur was Lt Hem Bahadur Gadtaula-Chhetri. The general manager from 1942-58 was Rekha Bahadur Rayamajhi of Bhojpur, posted at the railway’s main office at Jaynagar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071140_971118917423dec021d89591fe5fef4f7218698595773f6006b4d50c5c57cf94.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251106071140_971118917423dec021d89591fe5fef4f7218698595773f6006b4d50c5c57cf94" data-rendition-name="original" width="1014" height="680" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR Dan Edwards NT"> <figcaption>A steam train excursion for foreigners in 1999. The last steam excursion on the Janakpur Railway ran in 2006. Photo: GORDON EDGAR</figcaption> </figure>  Rama and Seeta, the railway’s first two appropriately named locomotives, were built in Berlin in 1936. In view of the rising power of Adolf Hitler’s Germany at that time, was Prime Minister Juddha trying to cultivate the Third Reich in hopes of reducing Nepal’s virtually total dependence on British India?&nbsp; In 1939 Adolf Hitler gifted a Mercedes-Benz 230 Pullman Landaulet to Juddha as a way to convince him not to let the British use their Gurkha regiments against Germany in World War II. The car had to be disassembled and carried over the mountains to Kathmandu and reassembled.&nbsp; The Nepali Congress-led campaign against Rana rule received considerable support in Janakpur and the eastern Tarai. In December 1951, King Tribhuvan rode the NJJR from Jaynagar to Janakpur, and thousands thronged to catch sight of a king of whom they had heard but never seen. As operations on the Nepali Government Railway came to an end, its European-made engines were transferred to the NJJR. King Mahendra ordered two more locomotives named Chandra and Surya for the NJJR in 1962. They were built in Leeds and traveled from Liverpool to Calcutta to Jaynagar to begin their service.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071140_55e4b768ef0ae7682dec8092169bbedc070656d46d9d0a80039fd960a23ae335.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251106071140_55e4b768ef0ae7682dec8092169bbedc070656d46d9d0a80039fd960a23ae335" data-rendition-name="original" width="2144" height="1399" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR Dan Edwards NT"> <figcaption>Inside the Nepal Janakpur Jayanagar Railway workshop at Khajuri. By the early 2000s, management was unable to control rising payroll and administrative costs nor secure adequate funds for the railway. Photo: GEOFF WARREN</figcaption> </figure>  The NJJR was renamed Janakpur Railway (JR) in 1965 and became the Nepal Railway Company in 2004. Unlike most government-owned enterprises in Nepal of that era, the JR and Nepal Government Railway operated at a profit for many years. In 1947, its total income was 225,000 Indian rupees, with a profit exceeding 100,000 rupees.&nbsp; In FY1974/75, the railway had revenues of 2.6 million rupees and a profit of 443,000 rupees. It is unclear if depreciation expenses were accounted for. Only from the mid-1980s did the railway begin to lose money. The NJJR did a booming passenger business. Ridership increased from 197,000 in 1960/61 to 1.4 million in 1977/78. Revenue increased from 770,000 rupees in 1966/67 to 2.6 million rupees in 1974/75. Yet warning signs appeared in the 1970s that the railway was living on borrowed time.&nbsp; &nbsp;A foreign consultant conducted a comprehensive study of the railway in 1975 and concluded that ‘the entire railway is very old and worn out, and unless a total rehabilitation’ of the railway was undertaken, it would ‘be forced to close in a very short time’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071140_240ed714ee4cb369005439a3fb982d6142fd028e7cf6b0c0338519a8abc6afd4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251106071140_240ed714ee4cb369005439a3fb982d6142fd028e7cf6b0c0338519a8abc6afd4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1387" height="784" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR Dan Edwards NT"> <figcaption>A second class ticket issued in 2004 costing Rs7.25 between Janakpurdham to Jaynagar. Photo: FUZZ JORDAN</figcaption> </figure>  CHUGGING ALONG An investment of two million rupees resulted in some improvements between 1976 and 1979 but rolling stock and most infrastructure were neglected for another 15 years. Yet somehow the JR’s trains kept chugging along for the next 42 years, often late, with service frequently suspended due to floods.&nbsp; Nearly every year, monsoon rains swept away some of the 135 bridges and tracks and embankments. An RSS News Agency bulletin in August 1975 noted that parts of Janakpur were ‘under 2.5 feet of water’, and the railway tracks near Khajuri were covered by four feet of water.&nbsp; The Jaynagar line was damaged in many places by the swollen Jaladi, Kamala and Jamuni Rivers. Trains to Bijalpura were suspended. For each week railway service was suspended a loss of 75,000 rupees resulted.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251108131132_4a189fa9999b50037f1774b183e62e2caad6177f594ba57a28d93bd674644163.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251108131132_4a189fa9999b50037f1774b183e62e2caad6177f594ba57a28d93bd674644163" data-rendition-name="original" width="1202" height="770" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR MAP"> </figure>  There were also accidents. Trains made only two or three roundtrips daily between Jaynagar and Janakpur and ran at slow speeds, so there were few passenger fatalities, but there were frequent derailments due to the worn rails and overloaded carriages. A RSS report in 1976 said a train derailed near Mahinathpur, and some passengers riding on the roof fell off and were injured. ‘Such accidents occur because the coaches are not regularly maintained and repaired. The speed of the train has been reduced from 12 to 8 miles per hour, since the old and rickety coaches rattle and sway from side to side if driven too fast. The trains take an incredible 4 to 5 hours to cover 28 kilometres,’ the report noted. Gangs of dacoits occasionally boarded trains and robbed passengers. Another RSS report in December 1972 said ‘Six dacoits armed with guns and revolvers looted 13 railway passengers travelling from Janakpurdham to Jaynagar [last] Sunday. The [loot] included wrist watches, gold rings, currency notes and other paraphernalia of the passengers…The dacoits raided third-class bogie number 2 soon after the train started from Khajuri station. The dacoits after plundering the passengers jumped down from the running train about two miles from the Nepal-India border [and fled into India.]’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071140_de60de1d7fdd0a9d29f19440ed68d773f754c10ef01a8c7e3385097eab6a8419.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251106071140_de60de1d7fdd0a9d29f19440ed68d773f754c10ef01a8c7e3385097eab6a8419" data-rendition-name="original" width="1498" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR Dan Edwards NT"> <figcaption>Narrow-gauge tracks in Jayanagar in India going north toward Nepal. Photo: FUZZ JORDAN</figcaption> </figure>  Strikes and political protests also stopped the train from time to time. From the early 2000s Maoist and Tarai-based groups enforced stoppages with threats and intimidation that closed schools, shops, government offices, and brought transport services to a halt. Six minor political parties organised a strike in Janakpur in May 2001. Agitators stopped a train near Janakpur and pelted it with stones, breaking windows and injuring the driver. The railway came to a standstill in May 2004 after Maoists set fire to the Mahinathpur station. During February-March 2006, the Maoists obstructed rail service six times. A cylinder bomb exploded inside a train near Parbaha station in May 2009 injuring 30 passengers. Between 1993-2003, the railway had nine general managers who had influence with Kathmandu’s political and bureaucratic elites, but none of whom knew much about railways. Management was unable to control rising payroll and administrative costs nor secure adequate funds for the railway.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071140_df754214acd19eaab3b56ceaa0d96f0b66f9f0f8fd29fb4a533d860f627f483f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251106071140_df754214acd19eaab3b56ceaa0d96f0b66f9f0f8fd29fb4a533d860f627f483f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1140" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR Dan Edwards NT"> <figcaption>Coal was unavailable, so Seetaa-Ram, the railway’s first two locomotives, burnt wood for fuel. Photo: BASIL ROBERTS</figcaption> </figure>  Revenue ‘leakage’ was significant, as perhaps twenty percent of the passengers rode without tickets. Railway staff was bloated, in 1996 there were 340 on the payroll, many of them with political connections who needed jobs. Safety measures for railway operations were non-existent.&nbsp; There were no performance reviews, no criteria for promotion, and no training opportunities for workers to improve their skills. But the locals continued to ride their beloved railway. For 56 years, the Janakpur Railway received no foreign assistance, not even one rupee of foreign aid. That changed in 1994 when the Indian government provided two used diesel locomotives and 12 used coaches. Two years later, India supplied two more engines and 12 more coaches and promised some upgrades.&nbsp; This gave the railway a new lease on life, but the road network in the eastern Tarai had expanded,making the railway redundant. It also did not connect with the East-West Highway, the major transportation artery across the Tarai, nor could it seamlessly interconnect with India’s broad-gauge rail network at Jaynagar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071140_7a52a3c5a3fe4e6320135d90632dcfcee6085a32637a3f71e1e644c5e8d3b19f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251106071140_7a52a3c5a3fe4e6320135d90632dcfcee6085a32637a3f71e1e644c5e8d3b19f" data-rendition-name="original" width="3239" height="1429" loading="lazy" alt="NJJR Dan Edwards NT"> <figcaption>Pashupati, Nepal's first locomotive, in retirement at Khajuri in 1996. Photo: FUZZ JORDAN</figcaption> </figure>  The railway carried no goods, all cargo traffic migrated to trucks. During the 1980s and 1990s, British and European train spotters traveled to India to ride its few remaining steam locomotives, including those of the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway. Some took a side trip to Jaynagar where they, without Nepal visas, were thrilled to ride a train to Janakpur without encountering a border check post or immigration officials. Other visa-complying tour groups arranged steam trains for 60,000 rupees or more.&nbsp; The last steam excursion ran in 2006, and after that, foreign interest in the railway evaporated. Cascading financial losses and government indifference coupled with irregular, unreliable service finished on the Janakpur Railway.&nbsp; Seventy-six years of remarkable narrow-gauge railroading in Nepal ended not with a bang but a whimper on January 20, 2014. Sic transit gloria. Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the third instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.

The saga of Nepal Jaynagar-Janakpur Railway

Between Dasain rites and Tihar lights, the 21st edition of Surya Nepal Jazzmandu ended with a hearty deusi jam session at The Malla Hotel on Wednesday. The festival began last week with a concert for a lively young crowd at St Xavier’s School. Across town, the first bassline dropped at Jazz Upstairs with an impromptu ensemble as dusk fell over the city.&nbsp; Over the intervening days, Jazzmanduites faced a delightful dilemma of choosing between a lineup of intimate venues, each sending waves of music across the valley.&nbsp; “Because of the unrest, audiences from all over the world were inquiring and waiting for Jazzmandu,” said Navin Chettri, drummer of Cadenza Collective and co-founder of Jazzmandu. “The fact that they came was a testament to the power of music, and spoke of Nepal’s resilience.” German artist Leona Berlin’s R&amp;B was the one to watch, while cymbals echoed during the Swiss quartet mohs. set with Nu Jazz and neo-soul. The enthralling and soulful ragas from Jonisha Poudel rose over Patan’s brick courtyard as the sax joined in celebration. “Jazz was born from struggle and social unrest – and what emerged was something beautiful. In times like these, that spirit is something we can all aspire to,” said Jason Amirhadji, a first-time visitor to Nepal. Femke Smit and Mike Del Ferro from the Netherlands infused the air with the colourful, flowing spirit of Brazilian music. With Smit’s voice and Del Ferro on the piano, the audience was swaying to the music.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101044_387ec0041807e1fb237094607394533a0f0f940e297c56abf994cd3657ba9b06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251017101044_387ec0041807e1fb237094607394533a0f0f940e297c56abf994cd3657ba9b06" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025 NT 1"> <figcaption>Nick Aggs. Photo: LOCHAN GYAWALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101044_5178d79872a2495b486e3933f19e29ea3ab2538ae3ce50ca6f7117b73646f5a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251017101044_5178d79872a2495b486e3933f19e29ea3ab2538ae3ce50ca6f7117b73646f5a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Femke Smit"> <figcaption>Femke Smit. Photo: ADITYA KHARE</figcaption> </figure>  “This is a synthesis between Nepali folk music and international jazz,” explained flautist Roshan Putwar before hopping on stage to play a soulful set. Putwar has researched Dāphā music and performed across the world. For the past weeks, the city’s pulse has been political: streets echoing with demands for change, there are still aftershocks of the upheaval that left the city weary and voices raw. And in the evenings, jazz acts too resonated with a quiet defiance. Musicians bent notes in response to the disquiet, and the audience imbibed it with eyes closed. “It takes great courage to come to Nepal after what happened and with the artists’ support we are able to revive unity and healing through music,” says festival co-organiser Samir Chettri, bassist of Cadenza Collective. “Music heals, and this festival brought positivity and peace among all.” The Cadenza Collective shared the stage with Australian saxophonist and composer Nick Aggs, a Brisbane native and member of the fusion group Afro Dizzi Act in a mix called Afrodenza.&nbsp; “It’s a privilege to play with musicians all over the world, especially with Cadenza because I’ve known the boys since 1999,” said Aggs.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101048_944c4fb4be1d7d33cb7979ae57ccbb084d9eafffc4a48fa8690802049dcdf74a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251017101048_944c4fb4be1d7d33cb7979ae57ccbb084d9eafffc4a48fa8690802049dcdf74a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101048_a903986ea8a49881f5d94c05a23141db4800e11d6121afb0ece354feabb9bf9c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251017101048_a903986ea8a49881f5d94c05a23141db4800e11d6121afb0ece354feabb9bf9c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025"> </figure>  On Saturday, musicians and fans gathered for an open-sky Jazz Bazaar at Gokarna Forest Resort. Brazilian singer and composer Catia Werneck’s quartet got the audience on its feet to their bossa nova and samba tunes. “It’s the highest music festival in the world,” Werneck beamed. Every solo, every exchange between tabla and drums, sounded the amalgamation of east and the west here at the heart of Nepal. On Tuesday, the audience clapped and danced as a mix of artists performed songs like ‘Blues Selo’ and ‘Shiva’s Dance’, at Yalamaya Kendra in Patan. There were jazz fans who came to Kathmandu just for the music, like Namrata Raju from India. She said: “This was our second Jazzmandu. The artists were thoughtfully curated. There were people from all over the world, and the festival sets an example of music, peace and cultural appreciation”&nbsp; Chethana Salian from Oman agreed: “This is my first time at Jazzmandu, and what a fabulous way to let your hair down with some foot-tapping music. Added a bunch of the artists to my morning playlist, especially Cadenza Collective.” &nbsp; Cadenza’s Navin Chhetri sipped his beer, satisfied at the success of the festival: “Jazzmandu is becoming a tourism draw for musicians and audiences alike.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101052_b4d1d7ff25f9c97c06f34916c6555a1ce5ccf415d3e7610d9ae6402e477b7bfe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251017101052_b4d1d7ff25f9c97c06f34916c6555a1ce5ccf415d3e7610d9ae6402e477b7bfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025"> </figure>  The Samundra band representing Nepal’s Gandharva community opened the finale with rousing Tihar songs played on sarangi, flute and madal. Joelle Loretan from Switzerland, another first-timer in Nepal, spoke of the positivity of Nepalis: “The people here are so welcoming and in good spirits despite what they have been through.” &nbsp;

The healing power of music

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The<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof"> flood on the Bhote Kosi</a> on Tuesday morning was a timely reminder about the risks Himalayan communities face from melting permafrost and glaciers, as well as the need for transboundary early warning. In the spring of 2024, I visited the Kanchenjunga Conservation Area (KCA) again. While in the village of Kampuchen (4,145) I visited Nupu Sherpa, friend and owner of the Kampuchen White House Lodge, to share <a href="https://tc.copernicus.org/articles/18/711/2024/">a new paper we had just published</a> about a massive ice-debris avalanche that had occurred in 2022 in the upper Nupchu valley. Although Nupu was interested in the results and implications of the avalanche, he was even more concerned about the recent and rapid development of several large, pro-glacial lakes upon the terminus of the Kanchenjunga glacier, an hour walk north of Kampuchen and across the seasonal yak pasture of Ramdang Kharka (4,375m).&nbsp; Like many high altitude, low gradient glaciers in the Himalaya, those in the Kanchenjunga region had shrunk to mere shadows of their former selves during the previous 125 years, leaving behind debris-covered remnant ice and small meltwater ponds.&nbsp; Nupu’s fear was that the lakes might soon coalesce to form a large and potentially dangerous glacial lake. Given a large enough trigger, such as a massive landslide or avalanche, a glacial lake outburst flood (GLOF) could result that could damage Kampuchen, Ghunsa, Phale, the Kangchenjunga Base Camp trail, and even beyond to the lower Tamor into India.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071204070_31e28d1fd0f5a976ad96fc5597cc386586d7de5b7d9714835d5b479104209fed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071204070_31e28d1fd0f5a976ad96fc5597cc386586d7de5b7d9714835d5b479104209fed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1635" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>The Kanchenjunga Conservation Area (KCA), eastern Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  Since I was on my way to the village of Lhonak (4,792m) I stopped to take a look at the new lakes. Sure enough, from a lookout point on the lateral moraine of the Kanchenjunga Glacier I could see as many as ten newly formed and growing meltwater ponds upon the terminal moraine region of the glacier.&nbsp; The prospect was reminiscent of early satellite images taken of Imja Glacier in 1962 by the French, showing a number of meltwater ponds that within 15 years had grown and merged into a glacial lake half a square kilometer in size and containing 45 million cubic meters of water. Ten years after that Imja had grown to more than a square kilometer in size, was at least 120 m deep, and contained an estimated, and growing, 90 million cubic meters of water. Would the same scenario play out for the lower Kanchenjunga Glacier? To try and understand the situation better, glaciologist Sonam Wangchuk of ICIMOD put together a time series composite of lake development over time, from 2016 to 2024, where it was clear that the majority of the new lakes had only formed since 2019.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071204078_c65a5ec574a251489c502f3efdf842033e0d238fd57947f7eee2c5793aac2a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071204078_c65a5ec574a251489c502f3efdf842033e0d238fd57947f7eee2c5793aac2a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="602" height="686" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Time-lapse satellite images of glacial lake development from 2016 to present. Animation of the process can be seen at https://www.mdpi.com/article/10.3390/w17101457/s1.</figcaption> </figure>  Sonam Rinzin of Newcastle University estimated the potential depth and volume of the future glacier lake using standard procedures based upon the surface slope of the Kanchenjunga Glacier combined with volume-area curves for similar glacial lakes, estimating that the future lake would have a volume of approximately 33 million cubic meters of water and depth of more than 116 m. Other modeling methods enabled the mapping of probable ice, debris, and/or rock avalanches into the lake that could trigger a GLOF.&nbsp; A third model was then used to simulate four different avalanche scenarios that could trigger a GLOF: from small (debris avalanche of 3 million cubic meters) to the worst case (15 million cubic meters) of fast-moving debris. Even under the small magnitude scenario, avalanche-triggered outburst floods would travel distances of almost 120km downstream, and under the worst-case scenario the floods would reach the Indo-Gangetic Plain and cross the border into India, damaging or destroying up to 90 buildings and 44 bridges. The prospective triggers of a future GLOF, however, are not limited to a nearby rock avalanche. A <a href="https://tc.copernicus.org/articles/11/443/2017/tc-11-443-2017.html">sudden release of water</a> from water-filled caves further up the glacier could trigger a surge wave capable of breaching the terminal moraine complex holding in the lake water.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250712040716_20ed87368a9ac416b5d0232cf8e02211195ca6bc9fff960a1f7e43a95bdfbbf9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250712040716_20ed87368a9ac416b5d0232cf8e02211195ca6bc9fff960a1f7e43a95bdfbbf9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1621" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools"> <figcaption>Theoretical Kangchenjunga glacial lake of the future (blue) contained by a front moraine (purple) with a flood possibly triggered by a massive rock avalanche (red).</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">Weakening permafrost</a> at the highest altitudes could result in massive ice-debris avalanches, such as those believed to have triggered recent and catastrophic floods in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">Seti River</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">Barun Khola</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/non-climate-cause-of-nanda-devi-flood">Chamoli</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak lake</a>, and Tuesday’s Bhote Kosi flood in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">Rasuwa</a>. Weakening and eventual collapse of the terminal moraine complex through sub-surface piping could also result in an outburst flood. And a range of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">cascading processes</a> currently unknown to scientists could trigger a flood as well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250712040712_76336a4597c08dd735e57b09ae9840b6bd3d89c85907bb39424d9e6f3163581e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250712040712_76336a4597c08dd735e57b09ae9840b6bd3d89c85907bb39424d9e6f3163581e" data-rendition-name="original" width="740" height="565" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Jannu glacier in 1899. Note how the level of the debris-covered glacier reached the top of the lateral moraines over a hundred years ago. Photo: V. SELLA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250712040712_707dd365923a002e889c64a88796b445695ea9ca692ec639179bc70217ed63c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250712040712_707dd365923a002e889c64a88796b445695ea9ca692ec639179bc70217ed63c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3888" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Jannu glacier in 2022. The remaining debris-covered glacier is now several hundred meters below the crests of the lateral moraines. Photo: E. BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  But will a large and potentially dangerous glacial actually form at the Kanchenjunga glacier? There’s really no way to tell at this point, although the rapid development of lakes since 2016 is a strong indicator that a large lake is in the process of forming. And rather than wait and see, our current uncertainty does not diminish the need for a more proactive approach to the development of a large glacial lake at some point in the near future. For example, the lower Kanchenjunga Glacier clearly needs to be regularly monitored over the coming years to keep track of glacial lake growth and potential hazards. This could be done by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM), ICIMOD, or Kathmandu University with results regularly shared with local people and local governments.&nbsp; In fact, such a service could be developed into a program that is offered to other communities throughout highland Nepal who experience similar situations of glacial lake development, growth, and prospective danger, especially since most communities presently feel that they have no one to turn to for similar information. Inexpensive, locally appropriate, user-friendly early warning systems (EWS) need to be developed for the Kanchenjunga region now, instead of waiting for a tragedy to happen. While the different options and costs are being assessed, the installation of new cell towers in the upper Ghunsa Khola would assure that local residents have access to one of the most effective and proven EWS systems available: cell phones, combined with a lake level monitoring device that broadcasts data and connects to cell phone alarm systems.&nbsp; For example, hundreds of lives were saved when upstream witnesses called their family and friends downstream to warn them of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti River flood</a> near Pokhara in 2014. New zoning policies that prohibit the construction of lodges and other infrastructure in high-risk floodplain regions need to be developed now. Where the infrastructure already exists, villages should be encouraged to install gabion rock-filled wire cages along susceptible river channel or river interfaces to divert the flow of water during a flood event, a method used successfully in both highland and riverine Nepal. Local and national hazard training and response programs need to be developed now. Several examples of excellent programs developed by different organisations in the upper Khumbu region exist that provide excellent models, such as those tested by the US Agency for International Development <a href="https://www.hillarymedal.com/Khumbu-Nepal-Local-Adaptation-Plan-of-Action-%20report.pdf">(USAID) and ICIMOD</a> between 2011 and 2015. Glacial lake reduction&nbsp; Nepal was recently awarded a $36.1 million award by the Green Climate Fund (GCF) to directly confront many of hazards from glacial lake outburst floods jointly implemented by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and the DHM building on past successes at Tso Rolpa and Imja Lakes. There are some lessons learned over the past decades of field work based in Nepal and Peru: 1. The DHM wants to use the project to reduce GLOF risks in Kosi and Gandaki basins and glacial lake reduction programs are planned for Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes.&nbsp; However, the planned lowering depth for Tso Rolpa in 2000 was 20m, with the project ending once 3m lowering was achieved due to lack of funds. Imja lake, which scientists also determined needed to be lowered by at least 20m, was in fact lowered by 3m in 2016 ‘because that’s what they did at Tso Rolpa’.&nbsp; If glacial lake reduction programs are to be implemented under the GCF program they should be based upon good science, and lowered to an effective depth, otherwise the activity will be a waste of funds. <a href="https://sinia.minam.gob.pe/sites/default/files/siar-%20ancash/archivos/public/docs/usaid_glacial_lake_handbookrfs_0-ilovepdf-%20compressed_0.pdf">Peru offers experience</a> for glacial lake lowering. 2. Although large glacial lakes (more than 1sq km) will always command the most media and even scientific attention, it has become abundantly clear in recent years that even small glacial lakes can be just as deadly, given the correct sequence of cascading events, rainfall, snowmelt, and/or other triggers.&nbsp; The 2017 <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10346-018-1079-9">Barun flood</a> and September 2024 <a href="https://www.stimson.org/event/the-%20thame-glof-disaster-climate-related-disaster-risk-management-in-the-high-himalayas/">Thame flood</a> are two excellent examples. Methods for assessing the flood risk of glacial lakes will need to be revised accordingly to include many of these smaller glacial lakes as well, in addition to the 21 large lakes already considered to be dangerous. 3. Existing and expensive EWS might benefit by some consideration of cheaper, more local, and possibly more effective alternatives. In 2015, for example, <a href="https://digitalcommons.macalester.edu/himalaya/vol37/iss2/7/">villagers</a> living below Tso Rolpa complained that they had no idea how the recently installed EWS worked, what it sounded like, and what to do in the event that it went off. With improved cell service and real-time lake level monitoring apps, local people could check on the lake whenever they wished, as opposed to waiting for some kind of communication from Kathmandu. 4. The GCF grant has the opportunity to become the ‘go to’ place for communities throughout highland Nepal to report any of their concerns related to glacial lakes and/or other observed cryospheric processes. This service could facilitate local people’s ability to adapt to, mitigate, or prevent a range of climate change-related hazards largely unknown to previous generations. Alton C Byers is a faculty research scientist at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research (INSTAAR) University of Colorado at Boulder and has visited the KCA including a six-month residency in Ghunsa supported by the Fulbright Nepal Scholar Program. This article is largely based on Evolution of a Potentially Dangerous Glacial Lake on the Kanchenjunga Glacier, Nepal, Predictive Flood Models, and Prospective Community Response. <a href="https://doi.org/10.3390/w17101457">Water</a>, 2025. (Byers AC, Rinzin S, Byers E, Wangchuk S.)

Meltpools in the Himalaya

In 2023, northern India suffered record-breaking heat. In 2024, it broke its own record. In 2025, the Indo-Gangetic plains and the Nepal Tarai suffered a prolonged pre-monsoon heat wave and humidity, forcing closure of schools and workplaces. This week, <a href="https://www.dw.com/en/europe-heat-wave-intensifies-as-fresh-warnings-issued/live-73108302">southern Europe is suffering the worst heat wave</a> since temperature records began. Football matches, tennis tournaments have been affected, and tourist sites have been closed off. Qatar has ordered a midday work curfew for Nepali and other migrant workers are the maximum temperature this week touched 45°C.&nbsp; Kathmandu Valley experienced its highest temperature in 25 years in May 2024 at 35.3°C. This year, the maximum temperature exceeded 30°C on many days — heat that till a decade ago would be considered unusual. Rains in early June also meant that towns in the mountains sweltered under high heat plus humidity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250703090748_6975cfc2ad573f3a09ca301a299a9e92a420da7f1c5c90b8e4d061a2053dcd3e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250703090748_6975cfc2ad573f3a09ca301a299a9e92a420da7f1c5c90b8e4d061a2053dcd3e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1935" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="maximum average temperature in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Source: DHM</figcaption> </figure>  Measuring just temperature does not give a true picture of how hot it is. When humidity is factored in, the heat index this summer has been much higher in northern India and Nepal. Also, the hotter the air temperature the higher the concentration of water vapour in it. “We feel it is getting hotter, and our statistics back that up,” says Shanti Kandel at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology, which issued two heat wave warnings this year, compared to 11 last year. “We need more research to analyse how humidity is make this situation worse.” <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-faces-alarming-30-rise-in-moist-heat-stress-over-40-years-affecting-wide-swath-of-country-imd-study/articleshow/109376863.cms?from=mdr">A recent analysis</a> by the Indian Meteorological Department has found that heat stress in that country has increased by nearly 30% over the past 40 years. Similarly, India’s Council on Energy, Environment and Water (CEEW) noted that cities like Delhi, Chandigarh, Jaipur, and Lucknow have experienced a 6-9% rise in relative humidity in the last decade.&nbsp; It also states that <a href="https://www.reuters.com/sustainability/climate-energy/majority-indian-districts-face-high-heatwave-risk-study-shows-2025-05-20/#:~:text=%22About%2057%20per%20cent%20of,usual%20number%20of%20heatwave%20days.">60% of Indian districts</a>, home to three-quarters of the country’s 1.3 billion people face a high to very high risk from extreme heat, with rising night-time temperatures and humidity. The heat index is also called ‘<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/north-indian-heat-wave-hits-nepal">wet-bulb temperature</a>’ and is a measure of how hot the human body feels when humidity levels are also high — usually much hotter than the recorded temperature. For example, a wet-bulb temperature of 35°C is considered the maximum limit of heat and humidity that humans can handle, beyond which the body cannot cool by perspiration, leading to death. One indicator of increasing humidity is a rise in average minimum temperature, and Nepal recorded the highest figure since 1981 last year, with a peak of 15.8°C. Higher minimum temperature denotes warmer nights, which in turn is an indication of heat stress caused by increasing humidity, which in turn is a result of global warming. Aside from higher average temperatures worldwide this year, what makes heat and humidity more unbearable is that cities are always hotter than their surroundings. This is due to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/preparing-for-kathmandu-s-heat-waves">urban heat island (UHI) effect</a> – for example the temperature inside Kathmandu’s Ring Road can be hotter by <a href="https://www.epa.gov/heatislands/what-are-heat-islands">up to 4°C during the daytime and by 1 to 3°C in the evening</a> compared to the outskirts. “Climate change is one reason for rising temperature, but there are other factors like increased heat in urban spaces due to concrete buildings and infrastructure, emissions from vehicles, industries, and home appliances,” explains urban planner Bhushan Tuladhar. He adds: “Much of this comes down to how we have developed our cities, not just our roads and buildings but also our water system, waste management, culture and customs as well as economy.” There is a feedback loop at work: as it gets hotter, more energy is used for fans, coolers, and air-conditioners which in turn add to the urban heat bubble. The way to reduce the UHI effect is to have more parks, tree-lined streets and water bodies to cool cities down.&nbsp; <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2212095525002093">A recent study published in the journal Urban Climate</a> by Nepali researchers at the University of Massachusetts, Tribhuvan University, University of Groningen, etc showed that even within Kathmandu, urban forests cooled neighbourhoods by as much as 1.2°C while ponds reduced the temperature by up to 0.85°C compared to nearby houses.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250703090748_e4de75dbdfb5fcfdeb0935eda364dc16b5dca8857ba335ab0f4586ebdc5093a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250703090748_e4de75dbdfb5fcfdeb0935eda364dc16b5dca8857ba335ab0f4586ebdc5093a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2580" height="1038" loading="lazy" alt="urban heat island in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Source: URBAN CLIMATE et al.</figcaption> </figure>  ‘Our results demonstrate that blue-green spaces provide significant cooling benefits across the Kathmandu Valley, with distinct patterns by type, size, design, and urban context,’ concluded the paper, whose lead author is Saurav Bhattarai at Jackson State University in the United States. The old towns in Kathmandu Valley with traditional brick and tile architecture, ponds and trees managed hot summers better. Compact houses around a courtyard gave people just the right amount of sunlight, and use of clay mortar and bricks insulated houses in winter while cooling them in summer. There were open spaces, fertile land along the floodplains for farming, and brick pavements that allowed for seepage. “Our cities were planned taking nature into account,” says Sangeeta Singh, a professor of urban planning at the Institute of Engineering. “Kathmandu Valley is now built up, but we can still reintegrate blue-blue spaces into town planning with vertical gardening, urban forestry, using local material and harvesting rainwater.”&nbsp; Kathmandu’s municipalities have by-laws controlling building design and structure, but strict enforcement of land use and zoning are missing. Extreme heat disproportionately affects the urban poor who may not have access to fans or air-conditioners, exacerbating poverty.&nbsp; Cities in the plains have it even worse. As heat and humidity rise simultaneously, it could <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/garmi-se-behal-chalo-nepal">reverse the current mass migration</a> of people from the mountains to the Tarai, where 53% of Nepal’s population lives. <a href="https://thedocs.worldbank.org/en/doc/92fbbbc6180238e18e7b239fad83e38a-0280032024/original/12-DHNT-Temperature-poverty-inequality-September-2024.pdf">A World Bank study</a> put the cost of a 1°C rise in temperature at 17.1% increase in poverty globally. Estimates put the total number of urban poor in developing countries exposed to the worst heat extremes at 26 million presently, this number is bound to grow to 215 million by mid-century, an over eight-fold increase. Meanwhile, 489,000 health-related deaths occur each year, 45% of them in Asia alone. “Heat has to be seen from a class perspective,” says Singh. “Those with money can afford gadgets and appliances to keep their homes and offices cool, but not day labourers or poor families living in cramped housing with poor ventilation.” Climate breakdown is going to widen the class divide in cities, as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/unthinkable-in-the-current-climate">summers become unliveable</a>. Says Singh: “We need policy intervention to address this class injustice. Our building by-laws and new town development must urgently integrate climate and energy efficiency elements.”

In the heat of the moment

On the afternoon of 28 May, a massive glacier avalanche destroyed the idyllic village of Blatten in the Valais region of Switzerland. Footage of the disaster rapidly circulated around the world, sparking renewed conversation about the increasing instability of the mountain cryosphere and climate-related risks. The population of nearly 300 people had been evacuated a week prior due to concerns that unstable slopes above the glacier could trigger a catastrophic event. This is remarkable, and a testament to the value of hazard monitoring and anticipatory action. Shocked by the intensity of avalanche impacts and devastating loss, people struggled to comprehend the alternative: what if the village had been full? In Nepal, the people of the Langtang Valley, survivors of a massive glacier avalanche that killed over 300 people in April 2015, know exactly what it feels like for an entire village to be <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/may/17/nepal-earthquake-langtang-village-everyone-was-dead">‘wiped off the map’</a> in a little more than a minute. The avalanche that buried the village of Langtang was similarly catastrophic, as the avalanche fell over 3,000m and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/19/world/asia/nepal-avalanche-langtang.html">carried nearly as much force as the Hiroshima atomic bomb</a>. Unfortunately, the people of Langtang had no warning. While these two disasters are quite different, there are some important connections between them. As the world contemplates the threat of increasing climate-related glacier hazards and wonders if and how Blatten will rebuild, I would like to draw attention to the ever-present risk of similar disasters in the Himalayas, where the scale of the problem is (arguably) larger and resources are (inarguably) more limited. As events like these become increasingly common, we need to build monitoring and <a href="https://www.undrr.org/implementing-sendai-framework/sendai-framework-action/early-warnings-for-all">early warning systems for all</a> at-risk communities. We also need more comparative analysis of the ways mountain people make sense of climate-related risks, particularly around wicked questions like hazard zoning and resettlement or relocation. How do institutions determine where to invest in hazard monitoring and early warning systems? Who gets to decide where people can rebuild, what kind of risks are ‘acceptable’, or whose uncertainties matter? As a survivor of the Langtang disaster and an applied anthropologist, this is not a thought exercise for me. I spent more than two years working with the Langtangpa community as a volunteer, and the last ten years conducting research focused on the aftermath of the Langtang avalanche and the ways people cope with disaster and climate risk in the Himalayan region. Since late 2022, I have been <a href="https://www.stimson.org/project/early-warning-systems-for-cascading-disasters-in-nepal/">working with the Stimson Center </a>to consider how we might build systems to assess and monitor the changing risks of cascading hazards in the Himalayan region. As the Swiss and a range of international organizations consider how they might provide warning for other Alpine villages living beneath glaciers, we need to expand the conversation to consider the many Himalayan villages that are similarly at-risk. The question of climate causality currently haunts the Blatten disaster -- just as it has for other similar events in recent years, including the Langtang avalanche. While attribution is incredibly complicated, many scientists have already highlighted the ways that melting permafrost and loss of seasonal snowcover and glacial mass created instability in the overall system above the Birch Glacier on Kleines Nesthorn. Not all glaciers are receding. In Blatten, recurring slope failures had also been piling debris on the glacier slowly over the years, pushing the ‘glacier tongue’ forward and weakening its integrity – and this acceleration attracted attention and focused monitoring. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:7334623807573278721/">A recent post from Christian Huggel, a leading cryosphere scientist based at University of Zurich</a> examined these details and clearly stated: “Considering all these processes it would be absurd, ignorant or dishonest to state that anthropogenic warming has not played any role in the ice-rock avalanche disaster in <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/search/results/all/?keywords=%23blatten&amp;origin=HASH_TAG_FROM_FEED">Blatten</a>. Interestingly, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2025/jun/01/this-is-ground-zero-for-blatten-the-tiny-swiss-village-engulfed-by-a-mountain">other scientists have indicated that “exact attribution is almost beside the point.”</a> Tellingly, it took almost ten years for formal scientific recognition (see <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43247-024-01624-z">this Nature paper published in 2024</a>) in part because it was seismically triggered, overshadowing the climate-related signal.That said, many Langtangpa highlighted these connections immediately after the disaster, as many are doing in Blatten right now. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-courage-and-endurance-of-the-langtangpa">My friends in Langtang have spent the last ten years rebuilding their lives</a> while wondering if another event of this magnitude might be possible.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250607140612_5ccfd4786416a151e1c2d44f79add3c196da34e1c30af9188de10982b45d72f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250607140612_5ccfd4786416a151e1c2d44f79add3c196da34e1c30af9188de10982b45d72f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="885" loading="lazy" alt="Blatten NT"> <figcaption>Copernicus statellite image of the avalanche that buried the village Blatten in Switzerland on 28 May, 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250607140616_306112d2eb5330d0a5117bae3fc372861afce5137b52f793285e6b1cf89ca31a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250607140616_306112d2eb5330d0a5117bae3fc372861afce5137b52f793285e6b1cf89ca31a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1733" height="1053" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang NT"> <figcaption>The deadly earthquake-triggered avalance that destroyed Langtang village in Nepal on 25 April, 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  Like the people of the Swiss Alps, the Langtangpa have been living with avalanches for centuries, and they have used both situated knowledge and practical systems to adapt to changing risks. But, in Langtang as in Blatten, the scale and impact of this singular tragedy was both unprecedented and unforeseen. Tellingly, Langtang was not a scientific hinterland: groups from a dozen different countries were conducting glaciological, hydrological, and climatological research there prior to the disaster. Blatten is a case where the scientists knew where to look. But even in relatively well-studied places like Langtang, disasters can emerge in our blind spots.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">Last year’s Thame glacial lake outburst flood</a> (GLOF) also began in an overlooked and understudied area – <a href="https://www.stimson.org/2024/rethinking-himalayan-cryosphere-risk-assessment-in-the-wake-of-nepals-thame-disaster/">prompting scientists to rethink the ways we assess glacial lakes</a>. Issues related to <a href="https://www.icimod.org/mountain/permafrost/">melting permafrost</a>, which seems to have been a factor for both the Blatten disaster and <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/posts/tashi-lhazom-5a433b22b_rebuildtil-limifloodrelief-fromtearstohope-activity-7332420946013691904-N0sH?utm_source=share&amp;utm_medium=member_desktop&amp;rcm=ACoAAADxlvsBK3zQKg0X2xPLPS94HyMEettoSU4">the cascading ‘thermokarst lake outburst flood’ that recently occurred in the Limi Valley</a>, are increasingly recognised as a pervasive risk but it is difficult to monitor and the science is young. A multitude of different cryosphere-related disasters are possible across the Himalaya, and background risk is increasing. How do we triage between these different kinds of hazards? How do we know where to look? While it might not have been possible to monitor the glaciers and cryosphere features that contributed to the Langtang disaster, we need to be actively looking for other places where monitoring systems and early warning is possible in Nepal and the broader Himalayan region. Of course, we do need to be precise in our analysis and communication around climate attribution, but consensus does exist on some general trends: climate change is driving new hazard interactions that can generate extreme flows. Therefore, we also need to recognise the undeniable: that background risk is undeniably rising, that lives are at risk, and that we need to invest in building systems that can help anticipate events like Blatten (which takes time, time that others don’t have) immediately. The fact that Langtang has been fully rebuilt and community leaders were effective in determining the shape of their own future and ‘building back better’ their way (as complicated as that may be), demonstrates that a future can be possible, amid uncertainty. But the future of many other communities in the Himalaya, who should never have to go through what the Langtangpa went through if we can avoid it, still remains at-risk without more scientific attention and investment. Meanwhile, the monsoon is arriving in Nepal and another disaster could happen any day now. Coverage of the Blatten disaster has been rightfully robust. Praise for the scientists and authorities who identified these risks and correctly analyzed the situation is also deserved, for that is difficult work. A wider call to learn from this event and use insights to inform policy on climate risk assessment or questions of managed retreat is also exceedingly necessary and urgent. As many scientists are saying: events like this will happen again. This is a scary time in the mountains, in the Alps, in the Himalaya, and many other regions. That said, not all places are equally exposed or vulnerable. To reiterate a core question that I have been asking for years: <a href="https://dialogue.earth/en/climate/opinion-climate-disasters-integrate-local-knowledge/">Whose uncertainties matter</a>? When and why? We know that climate-related loss and damage will not be equally or equitably distributed, and that is one of the core reasons for the UN’s Early Warnings for All program. Blatten is being talked about this week <a href="https://globalplatform.undrr.org/2025/preparatory-days/global-ew4all-multi-stakeholder-forum">while the Global Platform for Disaster Risk Reduction is going in Geneva</a>, from where some of my Nepali colleagues posted photos of them posing with a sign that speaks to the justice issue: ‘Early warnings work. They must work for everyone.” Working toward this noble goal will require a concerted and committed global effort. -- Austin Lord, PhD is a Senior Fellow at the Stimson Center and an environmental anthropologist who has been conducting research in Nepal for the past 13 years on disaster and climate risk management, water and energy policy, infrastructure development, and environmental governance.

Blatten, Langtang, and Disasters Yet to Come?

Frontpage topic

You do not have to be a climate expert or atmospheric pandit to claim that Nepal is not pulling its weight on the grand narratives of the Anthropocene. As a heavily populated ‘country-on-an-incline’ from the Tarai to the Himalaya, Nepal is a thermometer of global warming.&nbsp; Its people are human witnesses to environmental and climate breakdown, but remain mute observers to the unfolding crises. Nepal should be leading the pack at the COP30 climate conference in Belém, backed by science and lived experience. But it is doubtful that two of the most crucial climate-related subjects central to the culture, economies and human wellbeing in the Himalaya and South Asia will be discussed at the summit that started this week in Brazil.&nbsp; The first topic that should be raised at COP is Black Carbon or the South Asian Brown Cloud, made up of tiny suspended particles in the air. This is not just a transboundary health hazard, there is now enough science to make the case that Himalayan snowmelt is accelerated significantly by the albedo effect that makes ice melt faster because of reduced reflectivity. But Kathmandu has not been able to make governments near and far listen. In 2014, I wrote a short piece published in Outlook magazine explaining why India’s Prime Minister Modi looking northward from a SAARC Summit retreat in Dhulikhel was unable to see the Jugal Himal range barely 30km away. His view was obscured by the pollution layer arriving from as far away as Lahore with substantial contribution from the Delhi region. That summit itself was an opportunity for Nepal to inform the Indian and Pakistani prime ministers that much of the haze, smog, dust and soot that settles on our slopes was generated in Sindh, Punjab, Punjab, Haryana, Western UP and Delhi NCR, carried by prevailing westerly winds up to the Himalaya. The forest fires within Nepal as well as Kathmandu Valley’s pollution contribute to the haze, but the shroud that suffocates the region through autumn, winter and spring is mostly transnational. Last year, these anthropogenic fine aerosols actually curled over the Bay of Bengal and invaded the airspace of Sri Lanka and Maldives.&nbsp; Even as the soot particles accelerate glacial melt and impact everything from infrastructure to public health, the most visible effect is on tourism. Nepal’s economic future is based on tourism, and much of this relies on being able to see the snow mountains. Why should travellers go to Pokhara if they cannot see the Annapurnas?&nbsp; Hoteliers in Nagarkot have started a campaign: ‘Visit Nagarkot 2025: More than Sunrise and Sunset’. While clever, the slogan is a response to the acclaimed Himalayan vista from Everest to the Annapurnas from the hill station, now obscured by the brown curtain of haze for most of the year. As the bellwether country of South Asia when it comes to the climate crisis, Nepal must build diplomatic confidence to reach out to the governments of Pakistan and India even in their present state of antagonism. Kathmandu must launch ‘haze diplomacy’ for its own sake and for the region.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="695" loading="lazy" alt="permafrost"> </figure>  IMPERMANENT FROST&nbsp; Permafrost is understood mostly as a phenomenon of the Arctic, Antarctica, Siberia and Alaska. Mountains elsewhere did not figure, though it was natural for the ground to freeze all year round at high altitudes.&nbsp; In the Himalaya, besides the snowfields and glaciers, frozen moisture binds rocks and stabilises slopes. But global warming is melting the permafrost that used to cement mountain flanks, including boulders, sand and scree slopes. Some of the debris (गेग्रान) did tumble down, but much of it remained entombed on high, thanks to permafrost. Pokhara Valley and the Seti River reaching all the way up to the base of the Annapurnas, is the best place to observe this dance of geology between gravity and the mountain range. Rubble from the collapse about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">700 years ago of paleo-Annapurna IV </a>created the sediment field on which Pokhara is situated today. However, much of the debris from the crumbled mountain is still lodged up on and around Annapurna IV, but the binding is loosening with the warming earth. A <a href="https://www.icimod.org/event/analysing-permafrost-in-the-hindu-kush-himalaya-using-open-access-tools/">2024 report by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a> indicates that global warming is thawing the permafrost across High Asia. Among the unintended consequences of climate breakdown is that mountains and moraines are collapsing, with <a href="https://www.icimod.org/press-release/everest-region-a-hotspot-of-cryosphere-linked-hazards-icimods-new-study-on-nepals-2024-thame-flood-confirms/">cascading impact</a> that includes glacial lake outburst floods, reduced groundwater recharge as well as winter flow in the Ganga, Indus and Brahmaputra. No one has calculated the total volume of rubble locked in by permafrost across the Himalaya. Despite the increased risk, there is accelerated construction of highways, hydropower projects, housing and tourism infrastructure across the Himalaya. While the COP conferences discuss rising oceans and receding glaciers (without doing much about it), Himalayan permafrost has been melting unremarked. In their path-breaking September 2024 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">article in Nepali Times</a>, Wilfried Haeberli and Alton C Byers argued that the extreme events of the past few years that led to mountain and moraine collapses, unleashing destructive debris flows downstream, were the result of melting permafrost. Haeberli and Byers suggest that the avalanches and floods including those of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti (2012)</a>, <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/understanding-the-chamoli-flood-cause-process-impacts-and-context-of-rapid-infrastructure-development/">Chamoli (2021)</a>, Birendra Tal (2023), <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2772883825000251">Sikkim (2023)</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">Thame (2024)</a>, <a href="https://himat.org/publication/byers-rockfall-induced-2019/">Barun (2017)</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">Melamchi (2021)</a> were the result of the thawing of frozen ground. They say that the collapse of the lateral moraine on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak glacial lake</a> in Sikkim on 4 October 2023 that swept away more than 100 people, destroyed the $1 billion Chungthang Dam as well as houses, roads and farms far downstream, was also caused by cloudburst on a lateral moraine that had lost its permafrost adhesive. There will be permafrost sceptics, as there have been climate change deniers. But it is time to wake up to the reality that the Himalayan peaks are no longer the immutable sentinels as regarded by humanity since prehistoric times.&nbsp; Modern society has pumped so much greenhouse gas into the atmosphere that now even the mountains are giving up. And we have not even begun to think about the bacteria and viruses locked away in the permafrost up the slope.&nbsp; Loss of permafrost adds to the cumulative impact of climate breakdown, including extreme weather events, drought and cloudbursts, heat waves in the plains affecting lives and livelihoods, creating mass migration, social unrest, and upending politics and geopolitics. The government and polity of Nepal have a duty to themselves and the larger humanity to wake up to the climate breakdown. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conclave organised by the Government in May failed to emerge as a pulpit for global warming and associated ills. Our political class, bureaucracy and academia should make up for lost opportunities to rise to the occasion and take the lead.&nbsp; Kanak Mani Dixit is writer, commentator and founding editor of Himal Southasian.

Climate of tragedy and apathy

Traditional donors have sharply scaled back their aid commitments to developing countries over the past year. Some, like the United States, have virtually eliminated their aid programs. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), official development assistance (ODA) from member countries <a href="https://www.oecd.org/en/about/news/press-releases/2025/04/official-development-assistance-2024-figures.html" target="_blank">declined by 7.1%</a> in 2024, its first annual drop in six years. This trend was not limited to a few major donors. Of the 33 members of the OECD’s Development Assistance Committee (DAC), 22 slashed their aid budgets, and only four countries met the United Nations’ target of allocating 0.7% of gross national income to ODA. The outlook for the coming year offers little hope for improvement, as major DAC donors have announced additional cuts. Most notably, US President Donald Trump’s administration has suspended most foreign aid and dismantled the Agency for International Development (USAID), which dispersed most US government aid dollars. Meanwhile, the United Kingdom plans to <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/clyrkkv4gd7o" target="_blank">reduce aid spending</a> from 0.5% of GNI to 0.3% by 2027. Similar retrenchment across Europe and North America is reshaping international assistance, disrupting humanitarian and climate-related programs, and creating financing gaps in critical sectors such as health, education, and clean energy. In our 2017 book <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/going-beyond-aid/B48F59C6D8D2790D403A1A0C44B37612" target="_blank">Going Beyond Aid</a>, we urged developing-country governments to reduce their dependence on foreign aid, not only because it was becoming an unreliable source of funding, but also because other, better ways of financing development were becoming more available. That message is more urgent than ever. As reliance on aid becomes untenable, the international community must mobilise a broader array of financing sources to advance green and sustainable growth. This includes national development banks, industrial investment funds, sovereign wealth funds, and institutional investment in public markets, as well as innovative mechanisms such as debt swaps and public-private partnerships (PPPs). These tools can unlock domestic resources, attract long-term investors, and create synergies between public goals and private capital. Equity investment offers a promising avenue for engaging non-traditional development partners while reducing developing countries’ dependence on debt. Government investment funds, public and private financial institutions, and other private actors can participate by taking equity stakes in public enterprises, financing infrastructure projects, or joining PPPs. Such participation not only alleviates debt burdens but also improves the performance and management of public assets. As government-funded, mission-driven institutions, public development banks (PDBs) have the potential to provide patient capital for green and sustainable investment in emerging and developing economies (EMDEs). Building on the <a href="http://www.dfidatabase.pku.edu.cn/index.htm" target="_blank">pioneering database</a> of public development and financial institutions created by the Institute of New Structural Economics at Peking University, future research can identify effective ways to harness these institutions to fuel low-carbon growth. Responding to growing demand from the economies of the Global South, development partners have increasingly adopted an “entire value chain” approach to the green transition in recent years. This strategy facilitates transfers of low-carbon technologies, diffusion of digital innovations (including trade in services), and industrial modernisation, enabling countries included in China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) to accelerate their shift toward sustainable development. Empirical research supports this approach. An analysis covering 139 countries <a href="https://ember-energy.org/latest-insights/the-first-evidence-of-a-take-off-in-solar-in-africa/" target="_blank">finds</a> that, following policy directives to incorporate green and low-carbon principles into the BRI, carbon intensity (CO₂ emissions per unit of GDP) among participating countries declined significantly between 2013 and 2022. These findings are consistent with another <a href="https://ember-energy.org/latest-insights/the-first-evidence-of-a-take-off-in-solar-in-africa/" target="_blank">recent study</a> showing how China’s solar-energy expansion has helped transform Africa’s power sector. Investment in infrastructure and industrial development can also generate positive spillover effects. Evidence from Sub-Saharan Africa <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/jors.70023" target="_blank">shows</a> that the presence of at least one Chinese-financed infrastructure project in a second-order administrative region (comparable to a municipality) is associated with a 5% increase in nighttime luminosity – a widely used proxy for economic activity. Neighbouring regions experienced a 10-15% rise in luminosity, indicating that the benefits of such projects extend well beyond the immediate investment site.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251104131124_1a11d248a89b0785bc7d7f1d9f721e7e7a2563cbd579c3c672a0900220c19171.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251104131124_1a11d248a89b0785bc7d7f1d9f721e7e7a2563cbd579c3c672a0900220c19171" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="405" loading="lazy" alt="development aid and China"></figure>  These outcomes underscore the critical role of infrastructure investment, particularly in energy and transportation projects. By improving electricity access, affordability, and connectivity, they reduce energy poverty, bolster public services, and stimulate economic activity in underserved areas. To meet the evolving challenges of development finance, both traditional and non-traditional donors and creditors should move beyond aid and adopt multidimensional strategies that combine trade, investment, infrastructure, green technology, and digital connectivity, including fintech solutions, to support EMDEs. Importantly, such collaborations should be viewed as a mutual learning process in which partners assume complementary roles and shared responsibilities. To be sure, there have been missteps along the way. China’s financing of coal-fired power plants before 2021, for example, had slowed reduction in CO₂ emissions. But these outcomes, once recognised as policy errors, can help strengthen accountability and foster self-correcting mechanisms within the international development ecosystem. Through ongoing learning and adaptation, global partners can build a more resilient, inclusive, and sustainable framework for development finance. © <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/">Project Syndicate</a> Justin Yifu Lin, a former World Bank chief economist and Senior VP, is the honorary dean of the National School of Development and director of the Institute of New Structural Economics at Peking University. Yan Wang is Senior Academic Researcher at Boston University’s Global Development Policy Center.

Development finance must shift away from aid

Imagine a high-end fair trade tea brand from Nepal that has done everything right, with ethical sourcing practices and international certifications. It has built a loyal base of socially conscious, premium customers in an export market and focuses on quality over quantity. Then one day, a government in the export market introduces a new ‘listing criteria’ that requires exporting a certain amount of tea to at least three countries in the past five years. But this was never a numbers game, it was about a niche market of socially responsible tea lovers.&nbsp; Suddenly, fair trade tea companies are restricted from exporting tea to that country.&nbsp; Pretty unfair for the company, for consumers, for the tea sector. More importantly, for tea farmers and families benefiting from fair standards. The overseas labour industry is facing a similar risk as recruiters, including those that have adopted ethical standards, may soon be barred from finding workers for Malaysia.&nbsp; On 27 October, the Malaysian Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent letters to five countries including Nepal, Bangladesh, Burma, Pakistan and India to ‘rationalise the number of licensed private recruitment agencies permitted to facilitate recruitment and placement of workers to Malaysia’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_050274dddc6cf10224b0ad9283eec7b3bc3c0acd650543a808a8ea473ecf40db.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251030141040_050274dddc6cf10224b0ad9283eec7b3bc3c0acd650543a808a8ea473ecf40db" data-rendition-name="original" width="961" height="1135" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>  The letter includes 10 criteria for private recruiting agencies including at least five years of operating experience, deployment of 3,000 workers in the past three years of operation, &nbsp;experience sending workers to at least three countries, a 10,000 sq m office maintained for three years, valid licenses and good conduct certificates, five employer testimonials, and operating their own training and accommodation centres. Two conditions stand out as potentially harmful to Nepal’s ethical recruitment movement. First, although the letter cites a minimum of 3,000 workers, it says three years in the heading and five in the body text. A big enough difference to affect a significant number of recruiters from making the cut, but problematic regardless.&nbsp; Second, the requirement to send workers to at least three countries disproportionately impacts responsible recruiters in Nepal and elsewhere. Turning the selection of workers into a numbers game is dehumanising. Responsible &nbsp;recruiters deprioritise volume, focus on quality of jobs even when business sustainability comes under threat as ethical opportunities that do not require workers to pay any feed and ensure greater transparency are difficult to come by. Sending workers is further impacted by a series of external shocks. For example, in the Malaysian context Nepal banned emigration to Malaysia for two years followed by the Covid pandemic, and then Malaysia’s decision to stop the intake of foreign workers for the last two years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_b1b88b3ae2e94c6bc077529ac6f2a4e380a385ee9a22219edfed25067c9d25a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251030141040_b1b88b3ae2e94c6bc077529ac6f2a4e380a385ee9a22219edfed25067c9d25a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="595" height="841" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_2cf252908d18aaf09c875002eef2d92ab45897a56b560addd2dc02311725c8a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251030141040_2cf252908d18aaf09c875002eef2d92ab45897a56b560addd2dc02311725c8a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="590" height="238" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>  Many ethical recruiters have focused on Malaysia because it is a more common labour market for responsible recruitment than other destinations like the Gulf. There is no credible justification to why responsible recruiters well regarded by scores of Malaysia-based multinational companies and with decades of experience should be ‘disqualified’ for not diversifying. Finding jobs for Nepalis in new markets is difficult given fierce competition, challenges &nbsp;identifying companies which follow the employer-pays principle, lack of networks and shortcomings in marketing strategies. These factors hit responsible recruiters harder because profit-motivated employers are often unwilling to cover the costs and fees associated with workers’ recruitment.&nbsp; “The volume of deployment does not determine a recruiter’s capability or the quality of services provided,” says Sujit Shrestha of the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA). Nepal recently scrapped the licensing renewal requirement that mandated sending at least 100 workers a year as it was impractical. The new Malaysian criteria is similar in nature, he added. The ball is now in Nepal’s court at a time when the interim government does not even have designated heads in the Foreign Ministry and the Ministry of Labour, Employment Employment and Social Security. When rumours about the Malaysian action started circulating, NAFEA had raised the issue, but was assured that this was not an attempt to set up a syndicate.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141044_83c8a174ef116603f747d1cd254c4d353e8b855a41fb99feec54e701f5fc4c3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251030141044_83c8a174ef116603f747d1cd254c4d353e8b855a41fb99feec54e701f5fc4c3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="3456" height="5184" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>  How will governments and recruiters in other origin countries now respond? There is precedence from Bangladesh. Dhaka-based journalist at the Daily Star, Porimol Palma who says, “Earlier, the Malaysian authorities had selected 101 Bangladeshi recruiters unilaterally, despite Bangladesh’s call for a syndicate-free recruitment mechanism.” Between 2022-2024, 450,000 Bangladeshis were recruited under this system with workers paying between $4,500 and $6,000, even though the legal limit was $750. Palma attributes part of the high fees workers had to pay were for commissions or bribes to recruitment syndicates. Adrian Pereira heads the North South Initiative in Malaysia says: “The criteria seems a bit fishy, as they do not appear to address the actual problems in the the recruitment of foreign workers. Some of the criteria seem to encourage a system of monopoly or syndicate rather than a rights-based approach. Every government has the right to set criteria for recruiters, but conventions and ILO (International Labour Organization) standards on recruitment exist. It looks like we’re back to square one.”&nbsp; Whether migrant origin countries including Bangladesh and Nepal accept the terms sent without reservations or push back in good faith remains to be seen. In an ideal world, a collective stance should put workers’ needs and welfare at the centre. How rational is the proposed ‘rationalising strategy’? What aspects of it are promising to curb recruitment abuse and what merits serious reconsideration?&nbsp; Even if the move from the Malaysian side is well-intentioned to address rampant malpractices migrant workers face, Nepal should deliberate on the conditions set, the collateral damage especially on the responsible actors and small but capable recruiters. Alternate options that might serve everyone better before rushing to respond with a chosen list by 15 November. If the proposal is accepted, how would it be done in a transparent and accountable way? It is noteworthy that Indonesia was not listed even though it has the most workers in Malaysia among the 16 countries that send migrants to Malaysia.&nbsp; The Responsible Business Alliance (RBA), the ILO, the International Organization for Migration (IOM), and certification programs like On the Level (OTL) also need to use their leverage to ensure that recruiters, including those they have trained or certified on ethical recruitment principles, are not penalised.&nbsp; This is more than just about protecting the ethical recruitment movement, but raising even more basic questions: Who can legally be a recruiter in Nepal? There are already obligations like hefty security deposit and minimum office requirements. But requirements to have building facilities with ‘accommodations’ or ‘testing centres’ are not among them. There are 1,150 plus players in Nepal’s recruitment sector, with a few hundred engaged in the Malaysian market. A unilateral selection criteria could risk foul play, or lead to unintended, unfavourable consequences. To be sure, overseas recruitment in Nepal is known for ‘settings’, corruption, dog-eat-dog competition, and collusion. The profiteering is out of control, often at the expense of workers. But the solution does not lie in stifling the industry with criteria like deployment volume, building worker accommodations or expanding office floors.&nbsp; The focus should instead be on enforcing rules and laws in both countries that govern the industry, and the Malaysian labour agreement that has not been renewed since October 2023.&nbsp; Meddling in the industry in ways that harms fair competition and ethical actors means workers suffer. The only issue that should be taking precedence is: how will Malaysia’s 10-point criteria and planned arrangement affect migrant workers? We have seen how for identical Malaysia-based jobs, one worker might pay zero while another pays up to Rs400,000, depending on the employer and recruiter. It is unclear if the 10-point selection criteria rewards the responsible employers and recruiters.&nbsp; As a longstanding host country for Nepali migrants, Malaysia deserves credit for nurturing the small but growing ethical recruitment industry here. Export-oriented companies in Malaysia need responsible recruitment partners and have mentored recruiters to strengthen their practices and move away from worker-paid models.&nbsp; The business case for ethical recruitment standards has led many recruiters in Nepal to pivot with many now in various stages of transition from traditional to hybrid or purely ethical practices. This progress needs to be acknowledged and built upon.&nbsp; Large, well-networked recruiters with large physical assets and high volume of workers seem to be the winners of Malaysia’s 10-point criteria after two years of waiting for the Malaysian market to reopen. Responsible recruiters endure long periods of minimal or no deployments that threatens their survival. The letter now sitting on the desk of the interim government in Nepal deepens the concern: rather than just failing to recognise or reward responsible recruiters, does the international recruitment market actually punish them? Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

Who gets to recruit for Malaysia?

<a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/dhm-forecasts-above-average-rainfall-and-temperatures-for-2025-monsoon-28-10.html">This year, </a>Madhes Province received less rainfall than was forecast by the &nbsp;Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM), reducing groundwater recharge of shallow aquifers which are the lifeline for domestic use and irrigation.&nbsp; The crisis was serious enough for the government to officially declare a drought emergency during the monsoon, with the province declared a '<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/national/2025/07/23/cabinet-declares-madhesh-province-a-disaster-crisis-zone?">disaster-hit zone</a>' in July.&nbsp; The monsoon scarcity hit farmers hardest, a majority of whom depend on rainfall for agriculture. Data from Dhanusa’s <a href="https://add.madhesh.gov.np/noticefiles/%E0%A4%A7%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%A8-%E0%A4%B0%E0%A5%8B%E0%A4%AA%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%87%E0%A4%95%E0%A5%8B-%E0%A4%B5%E0%A4%BF%E0%A4%B5%E0%A4%B0%E0%A4%A3-%E0%A5%A4-1752227917.pdf">Agriculture Development Directorate</a> shows that only 33% paddy plantation was completed by mid July, in comparison to <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2024/07/31/fastest-transplantation-rate-sows-hope-for-bumper-paddy-harvest?">92% planting the same time last year</a>. Only 49% of agricultural land in Nepal is irrigated — farmers in the rest of the arable land rely on rainfall, private wells and groundwater extraction. During the dry seasons and droughts, water insufficient groundwater recharge worsens the water crisis.&nbsp; Nearly 88% of households depend on groundwater in Madhes Province which has about 100,780 shallow tube wells and 60,660 deep tube wells. But in recent times, the tube wells and hand pumps have dried up every year.&nbsp; This shortage disproportionately impacts low income families and small-scale farmers, who have no other alternative to irrigate their land. And because paddy accounts for up to 7% of Nepal’s economy, Madhes’ water crisis is not confined to within the province, but has serious implications on the national economy.&nbsp; Underground water Groundwater extraction for irrigation began in the <a href="https://jvs-nwp.org.np/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Water-Nepal-A-historical-Perspective.pdf">1970s, </a>shallow and deep tube wells for irrigation were introduced with support from development partners. By the 2021 agriculture census, <a href="https://agricensusnepal.gov.np/upload_file/files/post/1731650149_1221316497_Agriculture%20Census%202021_District%20Summary%20Report_by%20Province.pdf">groundwater irrigated land had increased </a>to 41.7%, up from &nbsp;<a href="https://agricensusnepal.gov.np/upload_file/files/post/1694250757_1312300734_National%20Sample%20Census%20of%20Agriculture%202021_22%20(National%20Report).indd.pdf">29.8% in 2011.</a>&nbsp; A lack of strong policies and regulation to monitor unchecked extraction has meant that with the exception of some parts of Kathmandu Valley, domestic users, subsistence and commercial farmers, restaurants, hotels and industries across Nepal can draw any quantity of groundwater from desired depths and location. While the dependence on drilling for water has risen due to limited expansion of surface water infrastructure, there has been little attention to groundwater recharge. This competing use of groundwater threatens the fundamental right to drinking water.&nbsp; The ecologically sensitive Chure and Bhawar watershed play a crucial role in groundwater recharge. However, deforestation and indiscriminate riverbed mining has severely reduced its recharge potential over the years. In addition, widespread monoculture plantation of fast-growing non-native eucalyptus trees, replacing native sissoo and sal trees has compounded the crisis. Eucalyptus, a water intensive species indigenous to Australia, was introduced in the Bhawar region in 1978 for supplying wood. The Tarai’s recurring water crisis is not only climatic. Years of fragmented planning, inadequate budget allocation for groundwater management, as well as limited intra- and inter-government policies and coordination have contributed to the disaster just as much as droughts and floods caused by changing weather patterns. The United Nations said decades ago disasters are not natural, and they occur when we fail to prepare.&nbsp; Groundwater management is <a href="https://www.opmcm.gov.np/download/%e0%a4%86%e0%a4%af%e0%a5%8b%e0%a4%9c%e0%a4%a8%e0%a4%be-%e0%a4%b5%e0%a4%b0%e0%a5%8d%e0%a4%97%e0%a5%80%e0%a4%95%e0%a4%b0%e0%a4%a3%e0%a4%95%e0%a5%8b-%e0%a4%86%e0%a4%a7%e0%a4%be%e0%a4%b0-%e0%a4%a4/?wpdmdl=8990&amp;refresh=683b8df54ffef1748733429">the shared responsibility of federal, provincial and local</a> governments, but there is a lack of <a href="https://www.iwmi.org/blogs/stakeholders-in-nepal-work-together-to-enhance-collective-action-for-municipal-groundwater-management/">integrated planning, &nbsp;budgeting, data sharing</a>, and collective action for groundwater extraction and recharge.&nbsp; Sustainable groundwater use in the plains requires inclusive and equitable practices that combine water science-informed interventions with a long-term cross-disciplinary approach.&nbsp; Groundwater is mainly available either in shallow unconfined aquifers that are close to the surface and directly linked to rainfall and rivers, and deep confined aquifers between semi permeable or impermeable ground layers. Locating and mapping such aquifers would help us find what depth they lie at, how much water they hold, what we can do to recharge them and how much time recharging would take—enabling sustainable use of groundwater. Construction of surface water projects such as the Sun Kosi Marine Diversion Multipurpose Project, which serves a dual purpose of expanding irrigation and recharging groundwater, must be expedited.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251027071020_a9442084bc412998d3e7417cf0d057cae8a2b98f5e47ac1a8cc0630612ff2a55.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251027071020_a9442084bc412998d3e7417cf0d057cae8a2b98f5e47ac1a8cc0630612ff2a55" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mitigating the Madhes water crisis NT"> <figcaption>Photo: ONION FILMS / IWMI</figcaption> </figure>  Such infrastructure have a conjunctive use recognised by the National Irrigation Master Plan 2019 and the National Irrigation Policy 2023, wherein farmers can rely on canals for irrigation during monsoon and groundwater during dry seasons.&nbsp; Nature-based solutions such as rainwater harvesting, managed aquifer recharge techniques, restoration of wetlands and retention ponds, and floodwater reservoirs, particularly in ecologically sensitive regions like the Chure Bhaban, should be explored. &nbsp; The management of green water — the water stored in soil and vegetation — is equally as critical as that of blue water (rivers, canals, and groundwater). Green water is lost through evapotranspiration, which contributes to nearly half of the rainfall on land. Deforestation, soil degradation, poor land use practices, and loss of wetlands contribute to the disruption of the evapotranspiration cycle, affecting rainfall patterns and groundwater recharge. Solutions Rising temperatures compound this situation by increasing evapotranspiration. Soil water conservation, vegetation cover, wetland restoration, and nature friendly land use practices must therefore be prioritised. Water-efficient technologies and practices including drip irrigation use of sprinklers, mulching, and soil fertility improvement should be scaled up.&nbsp; At the same time, we must promote irrigation techniques and technologies along with crop choices and cropping patterns that give more yield per drop of water so that food production and water conservation go hand in hand. &nbsp; The government provides subsidised electricity for irrigation starting at Rs2.3/unit, some local governments are even supplying power for free. While such subsidies support farmers and increase productivity, &nbsp;it also poses serious risk of over extraction of groundwater.&nbsp; Flat subsidies in electricity or solar irrigation must be replaced by targeted subsidies in order to balance domestic and agricultural needs with ecological conservation. The 2015 <a href="https://kvwsmb.gov.np/public/uploads/board_act_&amp;_rules/rule-1.pdf">directive for groundwater licensing</a> developed per the Drinking Water Management Board Act 2006 for Kathmandu valley prohibits groundwater extraction from shallow aquifers for commercial and industrial uses. The directive also has provisions for licensing, and renewals, and mandates for license holders to contribute to groundwater recharge. The Madhes needs similar context-specific policies to address its groundwater crisis and safeguard water rights. Shallow aquifers in the region should be prioritised for domestic use while <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-981-10-3889-1_11">deep aquifers, which are still underutilised, should be tapped</a> in a sustainable manner for commercial, industrial and large scale irrigation and drinking water projects.&nbsp; While <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/human-dynamics/articles/10.3389/fhumd.2023.1181734/full">technical solutions</a> are important, they are not enough to solve Madhes’ water crisis. Nepal’s Constitution and the Local Governance Operation Act 2017 empower local governments for water management in their constituencies. But beyond the letter of the law, local units require community tailored groundwater policies, regular groundwater monitoring and up-to-date data, and investment in local recharge initiatives such as retention ponds, restoration of wetlands, and rainwater harvesting. Coordination between all three tiers of government is crucial, particularly among agencies that pertain to drinking water, water resources, irrigation, agriculture, land use, environment, climate change, and urban development. &nbsp; Heeding indigenous knowledge will be crucial to understanding the water crisis in Madhes and initiating solutions that will fit the context and needs of the region. Local engagement in groundwater monitoring can help to create self -aware, accountable, cost effective and participatory groundwater management practices.&nbsp; To ensure water security in Madhes, we thus need inclusive governance, coherent policies, active engagement of citizens, integration of local and indigenous knowledge and a principle of equity that puts people at the centre. &nbsp; Sumitra KC, a policy and governance researcher in natural resources management, is the National Researcher at the International Water Management Institute (IWMI), Nepal. Manohara Khadka, PhD, an expert in natural resources management, gender equality, and social inclusion, is the Country Representative of IWMI, Nepal.

Mitigating the Madhes water crisis

Public anxiety about immigration has become a powerful political currency across many liberal democracies. In Australia, as elsewhere, legitimate concerns about housing and economic fairness can be, and increasingly are exploited by anti-democratic actors who frame migration not as a policy issue but as a cultural threat.&nbsp;
When these narratives move from online spaces to public rallies, they do more than divide opinion; they erode the social trust and pluralism on which democracy depends. Understanding how populist and far-right movements weaponise migration debates is crucial to recognising the early challenging signs of liberal democracy.
Immigration has become one of the most politically charged issues in Australia, not only because of the numbers but because of its entanglement with cost-of-living pressures, housing shortages, and rent spikes.&nbsp;
The latest Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia (HILDA) <a href="https://www.unimelb.edu.au/newsroom/news/2025/september/how-we-live-latest-hilda-data-gives-insight-into-a-changing-australia">data</a> shows rising household financial stress as Australian households spending more on rent and income tax. These changes likely reflect a mix of economic and policy factors but create a lot of room for people to hold inaccurate and occasionally contradictory attitudes on these issues.&nbsp;
While net overseas migration has started to decline from its post-pandemic peak, public concern remains high, amplified by populist rhetoric. Some surveys have <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/feb/04/australians-want-less-migration-but-oppose-cutting-international-student-numbers-study-finds">revealed</a> a nuanced picture: most Australians want lower migration overall but oppose cutting international student numbers, and support targeted skilled migration to address workforce gaps.&nbsp;
As former Home Affairs Minister Clare O’Neil <a href="https://minister.homeaffairs.gov.au/ClareONeil/Pages/how-australia-broke-its-migration-system.aspx">argued</a> in 2023, Australia’s migration system is “broken and un-strategic”, not delivering for business, for migrants, or for the larger population. This is a situation that frustrates both sides of the debate and makes immigration an easy political flashpoint.
The recent <a href="https://marchforaustralia.org/">March for Australia</a> rallies turned these anxieties into street-level mobilisation. Tens of thousands <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/czjmre371l1o">protested</a> at what they called ‘mass immigration’, while far-right groups seized the opportunity to inject xenophobic slogans and calls for ‘remigration’ into the public space. These demonstrations were not only about visa caps or housing and jobs; they became performances of who is entitled to belong.&nbsp;
When immigration is framed not as a policy question but as a cultural test of Australianness, it risks shrinking the demos, the very community that democracy is meant to represent.
What made the March for Australia so striking was not only its size but its composition. Recent investigative reporting <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/politics/victoria/don-t-mention-hitler-and-you-re-sweet-the-great-march-for-australia-deception-20250909-p5mtlc.html">revealed</a> that neo-Nazi groups were not merely present at the March for Australia rallies but played a role in covertly organising them. They amplified messaging online, coordinated attendance, and sought to mask their involvement to broaden appeal.&nbsp;
This highlights that democratic erosion is rarely spontaneous; it requires actors who deliberately exploit social grievances, mistrust, and polarisation to mobilise anger for their anti-democratic ends. The banners reading ‘<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">Stop Immigration</a>’ revealed that public hostility towards migrants, <a href="https://www.afr.com/politics/federal/pressure-mounts-for-price-to-apologise-to-indian-australians-20250908-p5mt7x">particularly</a> from the Indo-Pacific, is growing.
For many migrants, these displays are more than conceptual debates about white national identity. They are experienced emotionally. Writing shortly after the rallies, Melbourne-based writer Jafrin Kabir <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">reflected</a> that she had never felt so foreign on Australian soil. She pays taxes and inflated rents, contributes skills in the national interest, cheers for the Tillies and calls Melbourne “home”, yet suddenly felt unsafe because of the origin and colour of her skin.&nbsp;
Similarly, Chinese national interviewed by media outlet <a href="https://www.scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/article/3325127/i-feel-insecure-chinese-nationals-australia-blindsided-anti-immigration-marches">reported</a> cancelling weekend plans and feeling “blindsided” by the scale of the marches.
Scapegoating migrants especially in times of economic stress is an age-old phenomenon and is not just limited to Australia. Across the democratic world, from the United States to the UK and parts of Europe, hostility toward migrants and minorities has become a route for anti-democratic forces. Populist actors often <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/mar/27/peter-dutton-keeps-blaming-migration-for-the-housing-crisis-but-can-it-really-be-that-simple">use</a> cultural anxiety and demographic change to justify illiberal and undemocratic measures, claiming to restore order while actually dismantling checks and balances.
By analysing democratic decay, scholars like Lydia Khalil at the Lowy Institute, <a href="https://interactives.lowyinstitute.org/features/democratic-erosion/">argue</a> that democracies rarely break down at once. Instead, they incrementally weaken through vicious cycles: declining trust in institutions, entrenched division based on hate, the normalisation of political violence, and the bit by bit removal of norms and guardrails.&nbsp;
Though some of the conditions are present in Australia to be exploited by anti-democratic actors, for example, almost two-thirds of Australians believe their leaders intentionally mislead them, according to the <a href="https://www.edelman.com/au/trust/2025/trust-barometer">2025 Edelman Trust Barometer</a>, &nbsp;but their presence is not determinative.
Australia’s democratic guardrails remain strong: independent courts, transparent elections run by the AEC, and a free press continue to hold power to account. Federalism and active civil society further diffuse power and create space for contestation.&nbsp;
But if public trust continues to erode and social divisions deepen, these safeguards will come under strain. Early recognition and action are crucial to ensure that today’s street-level hostilities do not translate into institutional regression.
Preventing such outcome requires a socially embedded understanding of migration, an understanding that goes beyond simplistic optimistic and pessimistic views. Policy makers should go beyond Push-Pull models, functionalist and neoclassical and historical-structural theories.&nbsp;
Consulting the work done by <a href="https://www.guilford.com/books/The-Age-of-Migration/Haas-Castles-Miller/9781462542895#:~:text=International%20Population%20Movements%20in%20the%20Modern%20World,-Hein%20de%20Haas">Hein de Haas</a> et-el, migration should be conceptualised as an intrinsic part of broader processes of development, social transformation and globalisation rather than a 'problem to be solved'. We need more nuanced views that have an eye for the complexity of migration processes and the diversity of its causes and impacts.
Sohail Akhtar is a Melbourne- based researcher focusing on governance, public policy, and migration. He contributes to Lowy Institute Sydney.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/is-street-level-hostility-a-challenge-to-liberal-democracy-reflections-from-australia.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Is street-level hostility a challenge to liberal democracy?

There was a time when journalism stood as the last wall between power and the people. Facts were sacred, truth was slow but solid, and credibility was the journalist’s only currency.&nbsp;
But today, that wall is collapsing—not because of censorship or corporate control alone, but because of the seductive lure of social media monetisation.
Even seasoned journalists from respected media houses are now opening their own YouTube channels, TikTok accounts, Facebook pages, X (formerly Twitter) feeds, and Instagram reels to earn directly from clicks and views.&nbsp;
Others write paid newsletters on Substack, record sponsored podcasts on Spotify, or stream “news commentary” on Twitch and LinkedIn Live. The platforms may differ, but the logic is the same: attention equals income.
And to earn attention, one must perform.
In this economy of algorithms, the truth alone is not enough—it must be dramatic. A headline must provoke, a thumbnail must shock, and a caption must trigger emotion. Journalism has turned into theatre, where facts compete with feelings for visibility.
When every click means money, the line between journalism and entertainment evaporates. Subtlety dies. Complexity vanishes. Sensation rules. A small dispute becomes a ‘national scandal’, a harmless rumour becomes ‘breaking news’, and the private pain of individuals becomes public spectacle. The more outrage it provokes, the higher the revenue.
Even responsible journalists—those who once double-checked every fact—are now caught in this trap. They post multiple short videos a day, often with half-verified claims, provocative thumbnails, and exaggerated titles. They pick up anything that ‘performs well’—from celebrity gossip to moral outrage—because everything now has content value.
This transformation is not only embarrassing for journalism; it is dangerous for democracy.
Social media platforms like YouTube, TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, X, and Threads do not reward truth—they reward engagement. The algorithms favour emotional content, not ethical content. Outrage spreads faster than reason. As a result, public discourse is shaped not by facts but by friction.
What happens when the nation’s journalists start competing with influencers for attention? When the same person who once reported corruption stories now makes reaction videos for income? The profession loses its dignity, and the audience loses its trust.
It is not that journalists suddenly became unethical—it is that the system has turned them unethical. Platforms pay for popularity, not integrity. Those who play by the rules of truth struggle to survive; those who play by the rules of virality thrive.
This is how the soul of journalism is being auctioned—one click at a time.
Should truth depend on algorithms designed to exploit emotion and outrage?
Can democracy survive when facts are filtered through the logic of monetisation?
If journalism becomes just another hustle for followers and income, the cost will not be limited to credibility—it will be the collapse of civic understanding.
Media houses, journalists, and audiences alike must reclaim journalism from this marketplace of noise. Let news return to its true purpose: to inform, not to inflame. To reveal, not to perform.
Because once we trade truth for entertainment, we won’t just lose journalism—we’ll lose our ability to tell the difference between reality and the show.
Sunil Babu Pant is Executive Director, &nbsp;Mayako Pahichan and founder of Blue Diamond society.

When truth becomes clickbait

Nepali Times #1284

The very first frame in The Lama’s Son starts with a vision of Shangrila and the quest of a mythical utopia in the Himalaya when the rest of the world is crumbling away. It is also the personal search of filmmaker Kesang Tseten, but what he finds there are adherents of the Bon Po faith clinging to the last remnants of a culture as it erodes away like the sandstone cliffs of Mustang. “It was while editing the documentary that the story became distilled: how does what we see in the high Himalaya relate to the notion of the Shangrila idyll that especially the West ascribed to them,” asked Tseten during a recent trip to Kathmandu from Berne where he now lives. He continued: “Often and perhaps rightly criticised as an orientalist construct, I wondered if there was any basis at all to the Shangrila notion, and I hung the film on that idea.”&nbsp; Tseten takes us to the vast vistas of Mustang and Dolpo, a landscape of his Tibetan ancestors. This is as much an intimate documentation of families on Nepal’s Himalayan rimland torn between remoteness and globalness as it is about Tseten’s own quest for rootedness.&nbsp; We start from Lubra, a 3,000m village in Mustang the 15 households of which follow the Bon faith. Lama Tsultrim is from a 900-year-old lineage of the animist faith and an exponent of the tradition that is slowly being subsumed first by Buddhism and now modernism. For Tseten, the material is familiar, and not at all exotic as it is for non-Nepalis and indeed for many urban Nepalis. Bon, founded in Tibet, predates Buddhism, but over time, the two religions have come to resemble each other.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  ‘Both believe in karma, rebirth, and that humans can become enlightened. Nature and spirits are predominant in Bon, and rituals are what keep them benign and alight,’ says Tseten, who rarely narrates in his documentaries. “This is not really a personal film as such, but it has a point of view,” Tseten said. “I decided to have a voice-over on this one and cast my presence in the film.”&nbsp; Lubra's Lama Tsultrim is called upon to perform rituals from Kagbeni and other villages, but there is no one to continue the tradition after him, which is passed from father to son. Lama Tsultrim’s son (hence the title of the film) is a sushi chef in New York and has been gone for 20 years. “The Lama is like a setting sun, his son should come back and take over his father’s responsibilities,” says a local youngster chatting with friends. “If he dies tomorrow, where do we go? We can’t just light butter lamps ourselves to the gods.” It is not only the Lama’s son who has left. The village is nearly empty, and more are planning to leave. One of them is Chimi, a teacher who will be joining her fiancé who is an Uber driver in New York. Her brother is already in Hong Kong. In Lo Manthang a local is back home for a three-month vacation after being in New York for 12 years. A shopkeeper was in Japan for several years, and has returned. “Everything has changed, our language, our tsampa, our religion. We used to work and live together, now the children live separately,” says a middle-aged woman. “There are roads now, and vehicles stop right outside our house, but what’s the point? No one stays home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  Like most of Tseten’s films, The Lama’s Son is an honest documentation of a place and people whose lifestyle, culture and heritage cling precariously to the past. In Dri village we come across local women filling their buckets with water. Tseten asks them why the village is so empty: “Where is everyone?” The women reply that they are “here, there and everywhere”. Then it is their turn to ask Tseten about where he lives and what he is doing in their village. Migration is a recurring theme in Tseten’s documentaries from We Corner People, In Search of the Riyal, or Saving Dolma. His previous film Diversity Plaza documented the lives of Nepali and Tibetan emigrants in Jackson Heights in the borough of Queens in New York.&nbsp; Diversity Plaza was shown at DOC NYC in 2023, and The Lama’s Son will be one of only two Asian films shown next week at one of the biggest documentary film festivals in the world.&nbsp; “The Lama’s Son is not loud, not attention grabbing but intimate, so I was surprised they chose a quiet film for a big, flashy event,” Tseten told us. In Lama’s Son, we also see how climate breakdown is impacting Nepal’s trans-Himalayan regions. Lama Tsultrim shows us the aftermath of a recent glacial flood that swept away houses and fields. The debris-covered farms are as hard as cement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  The nearby village of Dhey at 3,900m is a high and dry cold desert. Farmers get one crop in a year, but the springs have gone dry and there is no snow in winter. So they are relocating to New Dhey, closer to the road. We follow Kesang Tseten to Samling in Dolpo, which at 4,200m is another Bon village. Locals are preparing for the Walchu festival in which Lama Sherrab carries out elaborate rituals to appease spirits that can turn malevolent. But unlike Lama Tsultrim in Lubra, Lama Sherrab has a community of lamas to help him, including two sons, one of whom will eventually take on his role. We move on to the adjacent village of Bicher and listen in as locals talk about how despite being dirt poor, they thrive in scarcity and are resilient. “We wear sheepskin, eat stew and yak meat, and drink wine. But we are very poor, we have nothing. Look at how dirty our clothes are. We may be dirty, but we have few illnesses,” says one. But even here in Upper Dolpo, a week’s walk from the nearest road, things are changing. There are mobile phones, readymade clothes and instant noodles.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  At the Walchu ritual, Tseten watches men and women with hand-woven blankets and down jackets sing and dance after the main ceremony. He narrates: “Bon is sustained by a way of life that fosters a fine but fragile balance between nature and people, where humans come before gods. This is what lies at the heart of Shangrila if there is such a thing.” The film then takes us half-way around the world to a Bon centre in New York, but (spoiler alert) the eponymous Lama’s son never appears. He did not want to be filmed, but it makes for a more powerful portrayal of the life of emigrants forever trapped between two worlds. “Bon villages may be in danger, but the Bon has spread widely across the world,” narrates Tseten, a director who likes to call his storytelling ethnographic, and avoids coming to an apt conclusion. Lama Sherrab’s words after the Walchu ritual is a perfect segue:&nbsp; “Whether you say om mani padme hum (in Buddhism) or matri mi yu (in Bon) they are the same. When you go up, it’s the same heavenly realm. If you go down, it’s still the lord of death who awaits. There isn’t a separate heaven and hell for Buddhists and Bon, it has to be the same for both.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="7087" height="10004" loading="lazy" alt="The Lama's Son NT"> </figure>  The Lama’s Son by Kesang Tseten, 2025 Shunyata Films To be screened at DOC NYC 16 November at 2:05PM local time, Online: 17-30 November Details <a href="https://www.docnyc.net/film/the-lamas-son/">here</a>.

The periphery cannot hold

Intricately painted Buddha, Aryatara, Krishna, and Parvati gaze serenely at visitors at the Kathmandu Art Gallery under muted amber lights. Moving from one artful devotion to the next, a quiet, profound connection to the divine envelopes the visitor. This transcends art to the realm of the spiritual. &nbsp; The gallery’s latest exhibition, Masters of Devotion, features art by 22 artists all from Bhaktapur. They also include Ajay Karmacharya, Purna Prasad Hyoju, Nhuche Kaji Bajracharya, Rajani Sinkhwal, Shashi Dhar Sainju, Surya Bahadur Chitrakar and Sundar Sinkhwal from the Khowpa Paubha Chowmi Pucha. Paubha are religious and devotional art depicting deities and mandala that date back to the 7th century, when Newa artists began to paint images of the gods on cloth. For the artists who practice this craft, the art form is as meditative as it is meticulous.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041028_de34b51d48bcee50ae391301e2ff1890be7ecba3df7e563537c273818825aad5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251025041028_de34b51d48bcee50ae391301e2ff1890be7ecba3df7e563537c273818825aad5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="art review "> </figure>  The exhibition at the newly-opened space Kathmandu Art Gallery coincides with the festival season and is a collection of extravagant works done in mineral and stone colour, sakura and gouache. The vintage art space is located at Babar Mahal Revisited and is a fitting accompaniment to the paubha featured in the exhibit.&nbsp; Sundar Sinkhwal’s vividly painted Harihara is among the more eye-catching works. “Half of the painting is Shiva and half is Vishnu, hence the name Harihar,”explains Sinkhwal. “Together with their consorts Parvati and Laxmi, I have painted Uma-Maheswor and Laxmi-Narayan.” Nandi and Garuda, the vehicles of the two gods, complete the vibrant painting.&nbsp; In contrast, for his piece titled Lakshmi, Sinkhwal shrouds his canvas in dark colours to paint Kuber, the deity revered as the custodian to the wealth in the Hindu pantheon, accompanied by two khyak apparitions —one black, the other white— both mythical creatures in Newari folklore.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041032_1bde6de442b742c300bb8c9278ea8886445aa8df47076fd9aa362ce1f8bef903.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251025041032_1bde6de442b742c300bb8c9278ea8886445aa8df47076fd9aa362ce1f8bef903" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="art exhibition"> </figure>  “The black khyak is considered inauspicious, while white ones are a symbol of good luck,” explains Sinkhwal. Purna Prasad Hyoju has used mineral paint on canvas for a powerful depiction of Ardhanareswar, the composite form of Shiva and his consort Parvati.&nbsp; “I drew inspiration from the Newari Swasthani story about the separation of Shiva and Satidevi,” says Hyoju. Legend has it that Shiva, unwilling to part from his consort, reincarnated as a unified dual gender form of himself and Parvati. Hyoju has painted goddess Parvati in bright yellow, in homage to one of her other manifestations, Gauri, which means radiant.&nbsp; Meanwhile, Ratna Gopal Sinkhwal’s Kurkula Devi, done in stone pigment, is radiant on the cotton canvas. “Kurkula Devi is a tantric goddess whose traces are found in the Sadhana Mala,” says Sinkhwal. “The stone pigment is what makes the goddess look like she is gleaming.” One of Sinkhwal’s other works draws from stories in the Mahabharat to depict Bhimsen, Draupadi, Dushasan and Akash Bhairav in confrontation, expressions fierce.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041028_72eea52c8504eccb8b3be7cd4cef616dfb8efd821e8b1e1ae8f440f10782be11.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251025041028_72eea52c8504eccb8b3be7cd4cef616dfb8efd821e8b1e1ae8f440f10782be11" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="854" loading="lazy" alt="art exhibition"> </figure>  The opening of the exhibition last week also featured a music session, during which some of the artists sang traditional songs. Their voices joined the rhythm of the madal and melody of the harmonium, adding warmth to the crisp autumn evening.&nbsp; Each painstakingly detailed paubha reflects the artists’ devotion to divinity and mythology, as well as their heritage. Masters of Devotion showcases the work of veritable masters of their craft, and is a must-visit for art connoisseurs and devotees alike. Says the gallery’s Sangeeta Rana Thapa: “It is our honour to celebrate the artists’ work—to stand among pieces that embody both devotion and mastery, and to witness a tradition that continues to inspire us.” Masters of Devotion Kathmandu Art Gallery Baber Mahal Revisited Until 22 November

Artful devotion

Edmund Hillary once said that the Sherpa were the most researched, dissected and blood-taken ethnic group in the world. Living below the highest mountains in the world, the trans-Himalayan traders were genetically adapted to high altitude, their culture spanning both sides of the border, and with average per capita income of the Khumbu five times that of the rest of Nepal. But there are other less-known Sherpas in Nepal’s periphery: in the Langtang, Barun and Rolwaling valleys.&nbsp; Norwegian mountaineer Jon Gangdal’s latest book, Guilt &amp; Glory: Climbing with Sherpas is about his deep personal and four-decade long association with his climbing partners from Rolwaling. Guilt &amp; Glory reads more like Gangdal’s memoir and the mountains he has climbed, but it is also a tribute to the selfless friendship with fellow climbers from Nepal. It also exposes the inherently asymmetric relationship between expeditions and their employees in the Himalaya. Earlier mountaineering narratives overlooked the role of Nepal’s climbing guides in putting their clients on summits. But in recent years there has been increasing recognition that most expeditions would just not be possible without them. SUMMIT SUPPORT And that is where Gangdal’s book fits in: between the glory of a successful summit and guilt about not giving due credit to the sacrifice and professionalism of a people whose surname and ethnicity is now a synonym for support staff of G-7 Summits. After failure and tragedy on a 1994 expedition on Everest West Ridge in which his climbing partner Mingma Norbu was killed in an avalanche, Gangdal is tormented by guilt and supports his widow Ang Sona and her family. ‘The Art of Succeeding When You Have Failed’ was the title of his lecture series in which Gangdal became an outspoken critic of military-style assaults on Himalayan peaks, and self-seeking climbers on them. In a comment he wrote for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/everest-dangerous-place-to-work,1316" target="_blank">Nepali Times in #704 in 2014 </a>after an avalanche killed 16 Nepali guides on the Khumbu Icefall, he argued that equality and safety of climbing Sherpas could only happen ‘if we turn the whole Everest pyramid upside down’. He wrote: ‘We can feel nothing but grief and pain with the families of the brave boys who gave their lives for … for what? For the glory of their nation, like at war? For the glory of their attention-seeking sahibs who have had the highest mountains in the world as their playground for more than a century? Or for what we all have to do: our daily duty to feed ourselves and our families.’ Guilt &amp; Glory expands on that theme, weaving in his climbing adventures. He realises that the egalitarian Norwegian approach in decision-making does not work in the East’ where the prevalent notion is that a leader should lead. Gangdal notes that with a few tweaks, the twain of East and West can indeed meet. In 1996 on the north face of Everest while a major tragedy was unfolding on the Nepal side, Gangdal tries to ‘play Sherpa’ hauling twice the load of his Sherpa companions and is knocked out with exhaustion and has to abandon the climb. Climbers have often justified not helping fellow climbers in distress in the Death Zone saying that ethics at sea level do not apply at eight thousand metres high on a mountain. But Gangdal quotes expedition doctor Morten Rostrup: ‘When you pass climbers who are sick or in danger on the way to the summit, you should always do something … continuing to the summit shows a lack of humanity.’ Foreign climbers are on top of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and in a monastery below Manaslu, Gangdal once held a long one-sided discussion with the abbott on why people’s basic needs need to be met before higher aspirations can be pursued. The asymmetry in the relation between sahibs and porters is less glaring than it used to be. Many mountaineers have struck life-long friendships with bonds with their employees and their families in Nepal. And, as Gangdal writes, ‘Education … has helped reduce the asymmetry between the Sherpa people and us foreign climbers.’ Unlike other books about Himalayan mountaineering &nbsp;this one focuses on the Rolwaling, the less visited and wilder valley in the shadow of Gauri Shankar, and protected by the goddess Tseringma.&nbsp; Noted Rolwaling Sherpas include Chhiring Dorje who made the heroic rescue on K2 in 2008, Dawa Yangzum, the first Nepali woman to summit all 14 eight-thousanders, Tamting Sherpa who has also climbed all 8,000m peaks, TGemba Tsheri who became the youngest person to climb Everst at age 16 in 2001. <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/power-of-the-periphery/deep-ecologists/75228182BC490F8AC31C8E4C8335F435" target="_blank">Rolwaling also has a strong Norwegian connection</a>, it is where <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2009/jan/15/obituary-arne-naess" target="_blank">Arne Næss</a> who coined the term ‘deep ecology’, and mountaineer and eco-philosopher <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/norway-nepal-a-love-story" target="_blank">Sigmund Kvaløy</a> did their research and exploration in 1971.&nbsp; There is one interesting tidbit with contemporary non-mountaineering relevance from Guilt &amp; Glory: Næss and Kvaløy’s Rowaling research was bankrolled by Arne’s brother Erling Dekke Næss, a Norwegian shipping magnate. But Rolwaling was a restricted area in those days because of Khampa activity, and the Norwegians approached Prince Gyanendra who granted them permission in return for setting up the Royal Nepal Shipping Corporation. Gyanendra became chair of that controversial company and Erling Næss was adviser. Guilt &amp; Glory is not just about mountaineering, and is sprinkled with anecdotes and encounters with everything from Maoists to yetis. It is written with compassion and a deep respect for Nepal and its people.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111028_3fd1da00a1362a6c3f07807ec55b9e5d9163c11fb759aa09530a5ea486751d24.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251017111028_3fd1da00a1362a6c3f07807ec55b9e5d9163c11fb759aa09530a5ea486751d24" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Guilt &amp; Glory book"> </figure>

West meets East in the Himalaya

The Madi River in Nepal flows down from the Annapurna range on which there are four hydropower plants being built in a cascade. One of the schemes displaced the indigenous Gurung people from their ancestral land in the once-thriving village of Chansu. There are many other Chansus across Nepal where infrastructure projects have forced local communities from the land of their forebears. Many have been relocated to sites which are vulnerable to landslides, floods and extreme weather as a result of climate breakdown. Halfway around the planet from Chansu in the Brazilian city of Belém at the gateway of the Amazon, Nepal’s delegation to this year’s COP30 climate summit is hoping with other developing countries to negotiate a deal on being compensated for loss and damage from climate-related disasters.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251115151136_7f4ed4da802e8f744fa392ae03a842213ce8de07d5dcc859ce1d44ba7c3ba93a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251115151136_7f4ed4da802e8f744fa392ae03a842213ce8de07d5dcc859ce1d44ba7c3ba93a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2220" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="COP30 NT"> <figcaption>A hydropower plant was built on the Madi river, displacing the indigenous Gurung community of the Chunga village in Kaski. Photo: HUM GURUNG</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s delegate spoke also on behalf of Bhutan and Bangladesh to present a joint position, emphasising that the survival of the planet hinges on the fulfilment of the 1.5°C goal, urging nations to revisit the 2035 Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) to reduce their emissions to bridge the gap between ambition and implementation of global climate commitments. But even as countries negotiate their climate commitments at global fora like COP30, indigenous communities continue to be at the bottom of the priority list.&nbsp; The sixth edition of The State of the World’s Indigenous Peoples reveals a stark imbalance: although indigenous peoples make up just 6% of the global population, they safeguard 80% of the planet’s remaining biodiversity. All the while, native communities receive less than 1% of international climate funding. For its part, Nepal &nbsp;has improved on its second Nationally Determined Contributions to make its NDC 3.0 more inclusive of indigenous and underserved communities. At least 60% of Nepal's forests will be community-run by 2035, with operational structures consisting of 50% women, and proportional inclusion of Dalit and indigenous people in key management positions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251115151136_a95002faf7233572fbbb79d6841240f682feb2903b5c2c91313b5fd6e48c20d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251115151136_a95002faf7233572fbbb79d6841240f682feb2903b5c2c91313b5fd6e48c20d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="COP30 NT"> </figure>  NDC 3.0 also ensures that women, local communities, and Indigenous people get fair and equitable benefits from sustainable forest management and biodiversity conservation. Additionally, local and indigenous knowledge of climate change mitigation and and their cultural heritage is set to be fully integrated into school curricula in the coming years.&nbsp; This progress has been possible through continued efforts and advocacy from native communities, but the conversations were far from easy, and those in-charge of making decisions were not entirely open to feedback, experts say.&nbsp; “For those with indigenous knowledge it was difficult to participate in talks — from handling technology to understanding the jargon of policy,” says Tunga Rai, Director of the Climate Change Program at the Nepal Federation of Indigenous Nationalities. “At times our participation felt superficial, it was indigenous washing.” “Our concerns were not easily accepted, we faced challenges in encompassing issues of land and territories into the climate action process,” she adds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251115151136_442cb706bce56acac1ad912d8abbb9ebbe88e4e1c8c385ffd72826f9af6259bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251115151136_442cb706bce56acac1ad912d8abbb9ebbe88e4e1c8c385ffd72826f9af6259bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="COP30 NT"> <figcaption>Tunga Rai, Director of the Climate Change Programme in the Nepal Federation of Indigenous Nationalities, at a discussion during COP30 in Belém.</figcaption> </figure>  Indigenous people make up more than 35% of Nepal’s population, and are limited to the role of spectators in climate action efforts, activists say. They still do not get seats at the decision-making tables. Nepal’s delegation at COP30 does not have a single member from an indigenous group.&nbsp; This is not just limited to Nepal, native peoples are being neglected at the world’s biggest climate platform — from the foothills of Himalaya to the forests of the Amazon. Indigenous groups from Brazil and the region are making their voices heard in Belém, after failed expectations from local communities that climate issues important to native peoples would gain greater attention at the heart of the Amazon. On the second day of the conference, members of the Tupinambá community blocked the main entrance of the COP venue, declaring: “Our land is not for sale.” Ketty Marcelo Lopez, president of the National Organisation of Indigenous Andean and Amazonian Women of Peru points out that Indigenous communities have always been at the forefront of the climate crisis “As we move forward with Nationally Determined Contributions, indigenous rights have not been protected,” says Daria Egereva, of the Center for Support of Indigenous People of the North (CSIPN). “Indigenous rights must not be limited to documents, but also reflected in real steps.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251115151136_86d6f2451e38e78fc7cf7d1d1be4f31832bf0d69810827c07418732b2bf179cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251115151136_86d6f2451e38e78fc7cf7d1d1be4f31832bf0d69810827c07418732b2bf179cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="COP30 NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous representatives demand climate justice at COP30.</figcaption> </figure>  This year, the most climate-vulnerable countries are demanding that the Loss and Damage Fund be expanded to $1.3 trillion. At the same time, indigenous people are demanding proportionate access to climate financing, urging authorities to ensure that climate action funds reach the people most impacted by the climate crisis. But climate finance negotiations at COP have more often than not been defined by developed nations manipulating deals at the expense of developing nations. Gideon Sanago, an advisor at the Santiago Network, urges communication and collaboration between Indigenous communities and policymakers so that climate financing is easily accessible to Indigenous communities. Meanwhile, indigenous leaders like Onel Inandinia say that the Global North must facilitate access for the Global South in ways that support native peoples, integrate native communities into climate financing, and create Indigenous-led funds. This story was produced as part of an Internews Earth Journalism Network and the Stanley Center for Peace and Security fellowship.&nbsp;

Going native at COP30

The 14th instalment of the European Union Film Festival brings to Nepali audiences European storytellers, emerging Nepali filmmakers and their work in celebration of the shared language of cinema. Films will be screened 14-16 November in Kathmandu, followed by Pokhara from 21-23 November. This year’s EUFF features 25 films, including 10 European features, six BAFTA-nominated shorts, and nine Nepali short films that explore universal themes of identity and belonging. “We didn’t set out with a defined ‘theme’, but as the films started coming together, a pattern emerged, stories of belonging, migration, resistance, and quiet transformations,” says Prasuna Dongol, program director and curator of the festival. “It’s interesting to see those reflections across continents, showing that even though we’re worlds apart, we’re asking the same questions,” Dongol adds. The festival is organised by the EU Delegation to Nepal, in collaboration with embassies and cultural institutions representing EU members in Kathmandu and Delhi, as well as the British Council and UNESCO. The EU selection will showcase films from Portugal, Austria, Finland, the Netherlands, Ireland, the UK, Lithuania, France, Italy, Romania, Hungary, Poland, and Switzerland. The films by young Nepalis, rooted in everyday small towns, friendship, or growing up in a country in transition, mirror the motifs of the selected films that tell stories of life across Europe. Dongol adds: “Our goal was to showcase how young Nepali filmmakers are engaging with ideas of identity, place, and change in ways that feel both personal and globally resonant.” In the lead-up to the festival, conversations were held about Nepal’s evolving film industry, and how storytellers navigate filmmaking as both art and business. Organisers plan to introduce interactive side events including networking spaces and informal markets. A four day workshop brought together 10 emerging Nepali filmmakers to explore how to take their films from idea to market. Participants discussed why film festivals matter, how funding works, and how to build sustainable collaborations without compromising on creativity. Meanwhile, at the British Council and UNESCO’s ‘What Next for the Film Industry?’ roundtable on 12 November, filmmakers, policymakers, and researchers discussed the findings of the recent UNESCO Baseline Assessment of the Cultural and Creative Industries (CCI) of the Valley. “Film festivals like this are not just about watching films; they’re about expanding perspective and networking,” says Dongol. “If someone discovers a new filmmaker they love or feels inspired to tell their own story differently, that’s a success for us.” <h2>WATCHLIST</h2> <h2>Happy</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_bea2f7f1aa998adb05b38d6912fc968204ed592d9bb375edbe163ef0223f1d30.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025111312118_bea2f7f1aa998adb05b38d6912fc968204ed592d9bb375edbe163ef0223f1d30" data-rendition-name="original" width="1222" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  An undocumented Indian immigrant in Austria strives for a happy life for his daughter amidst the threat of deportation, revealing the shared quest for happiness in those who seem to have it all. 110 mins | Austria Director: Sandeep Kumar <h2>Jeʹvida</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_d19893069ba768408600bf14072c6858f963827be0feb3b2bcfdd60b2528bbf1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025111312118_d19893069ba768408600bf14072c6858f963827be0feb3b2bcfdd60b2528bbf1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1078" height="613" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  Sanna and her aunt Iida, who have never met before, drive to Lapland to empty a house they’ve both inherited. The house invokes painful memories in Iida, and Sanna learns of her withdrawn and distrusting aunt’s ordeal during the forced assimilation into Finnish society. 104 mins | Finland Katja Gauriloff <h2>Three Kilometres to the End of the World</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_2a737dd7092e827965065f54eb6e96db873c5c77597f65392f7c9d616ba6a585.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025111312118_2a737dd7092e827965065f54eb6e96db873c5c77597f65392f7c9d616ba6a585" data-rendition-name="original" width="1078" height="617" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  Adi is spending the summer in his home village in the Danube Delta when he is brutally attacked one night. In the aftermath, his parents no longer look at him as they did, and the seeming tranquility of the village starts to crack. 104 mins | Romania Director: Emanuel Parvu <h2>The Last Expedition</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_c9b46e481a46734bc332d30da21465e1d50807f39b54ebe1525a7f3889df855d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025111312118_c9b46e481a46734bc332d30da21465e1d50807f39b54ebe1525a7f3889df855d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  Wanda Rutkiewicz, the most famous Polish mountaineer, went missing on 13 May 1992 on her way to Kangchenjunga. As past events are confronted with theories of Wanda’s disappearance, questions emerge– is it possible that she is still alive? 86 mins | Poland, Switzerland Director: Eliza Kubarska <h2>Wander to Wonder</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_bd6a0b3494565fed5f86707572064d8b6dd70532f7e352d9b871f3824db3f083.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312118_bd6a0b3494565fed5f86707572064d8b6dd70532f7e352d9b871f3824db3f083" data-rendition-name="original" width="3840" height="2160" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  Three miniature actors who starred in a children’s tv show are left alone in the studio after the show’s creator dies, leading them to continue making increasingly strange episodes for their fans. 14 mins | France, Belgium, United Kingdom and the Netherlands Director: Nina Gantz <h2>Stomach Bug</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_980ed53441602df9c8df913e1f5de9abbf9b537953f8b77df074ed4bb0b52109.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025111312118_980ed53441602df9c8df913e1f5de9abbf9b537953f8b77df074ed4bb0b52109" data-rendition-name="original" width="3240" height="2160" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  The life of a fifty-something Chinese father, whose daughter moves out and who feels invisible in British society, unravels as his loneliness manifests physically. 15 mins | United Kingdom Director: Matty Crawford <h2>The Kathmandu</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_85299c1df8dbff3264720f8b2c01cc0633732f32fd1885c30230111ab23ef2ce.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025111312118_85299c1df8dbff3264720f8b2c01cc0633732f32fd1885c30230111ab23ef2ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="640" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  A young musician’s dream city turns into a nightmare when his reflection comes to life, and begins living his life. 6 min | Nepal Director: Nying Hyolmo <h2>What grows in Thari Maila’s Vegetable Garden?</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_3a46e16703144323a733a2beeadde1322e99abcabb53522fb980e54eac7e50dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025111312118_3a46e16703144323a733a2beeadde1322e99abcabb53522fb980e54eac7e50dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="3840" height="2160" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  Thari Maila and wife live off of their thriving vegetable garden, but the lush garden hides secrets beneath its surface, as innocence gives way to quiet unease. 14 min | Nepal Director: Patrika Ghimire <h2>Abyss</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_eb40d3fcd85bcd01552481dc1d478d133cf758a45598bce0f268ecedcbb1b177.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025111312118_eb40d3fcd85bcd01552481dc1d478d133cf758a45598bce0f268ecedcbb1b177" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="2160" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  Richa and Dhiraj, a couple who have just had a newborn, confront the depths of love and pain as Richa struggles with postpartum depression. 13 mins | Nepal Director: Akriti Dhungana <h2>Eternal Kinship</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_638750880715567980ce7654d3b103e202cec2ce6740051927278666d5f4b2f4.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025111312118_638750880715567980ce7654d3b103e202cec2ce6740051927278666d5f4b2f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="826" height="612" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  A boy’s fear of crossing a river becomes a journey toward courage and self-discovery. 11 mins | Nepal Director: Arvin Rai <h2>SCHEDULE</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_dad4593c61a147fed1a19e2c1724f3d4edc4dc7267e476b770723d4f40738b05.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025111312118_dad4593c61a147fed1a19e2c1724f3d4edc4dc7267e476b770723d4f40738b05" data-rendition-name="original" width="1199" height="851" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312118_e29696f8a489f5fedf3d044ae23fd2eb4c0f30acd5094754a67a666d06de07d3.png" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2025111312118_e29696f8a489f5fedf3d044ae23fd2eb4c0f30acd5094754a67a666d06de07d3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="852" loading="lazy" alt="EUFF 2025 NT"></figure>  The 14th European Union Film Festival Nepal 14 – 16 November, QFX Chhaya Center, Kathmandu 21 – 23 November, QFX Trade Mall, Pokhara All screenings free

Cinema’s shared language

New and old, businessmen and former diplomats, engineers and academics — they have all been trooping to the Election Commission to register political parties ahead of the Sunday deadline.
Till press time Thursday, five new parties had been registered and 21 new parties were in the process of applying. Behind the scenes, new parties are head-hunting, well-known figures are shopping for parties to join, while older parties are splitting or uniting to form new united parties.
“It is reason for optimism that people are enthused to form new parties,” notes political analyst Indra Adhikari. But, she adds, this does not mean that despite the celebrity status they will win votes and succeed in politics.
The outlier in all this are the Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, which are still licking the wounds after being swept out of power by the GenZ protests in September. Neither are too keen on elections because of the prospect of losing badly.
Former prime minister K P Oli is the most recalcitrant, and seems to want to scuttle elections so Parliament will be reinstated. After announcing that he was stepping down, the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba has had a change of heart in Singapore and is gunning to restore Parliament.
Neither party and their leaders have shown any remorse for the 8 September massacre, or understood the outrage on the streets against their decades-long incompetence and corruption. &nbsp;
Among those registering parties are various GenZ youth groups and family members of those killed during the September protests. Notable among the new parties certified this week was Gatishil Loktantrik Party (गतिलो) backed by Buddha Air founder Birendra Basnet and led by sociologist Dinesh Prasai. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang’s Shram Sanskriti Party is also registered.
Energy and Infrastructure Minister in the interim government Kulman Ghising has backed the Ujyalo Nepal with former secretary Anup Kumar Upadhyaya as its chair. Ghising has been playing coy about his political ambitions, and is planning to resign from his cabinet post before elections.&nbsp;
Ghising had been talking to Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP about joining, but that negotiation failed. Former RSP lawmaker Sumana Shrestha was supposed to join Ghising, but pulled out following Ghising’s reluctance to resign from government.
Ghising has much public support because he is credited with ending power cuts as head of the Nepal Electricity Authority, but is now getting flak for being unwilling to give up his ministerial portfolios while still wanting to contest elections. &nbsp;
Ujyalo has hit other snags. GenZ activist Tashi Lhazom, who was considered for a Cabinet position last month but was dropped by Prime Minister Sushila Karki, has said she is not in Ujyalo despite being listed as a Central Committee member. Another member has said that he will not be a part of Ujyalo due its “a lack of political culture”.
Even though Nepalis from across backgrounds and professions are eager to participate in the country’s new political landscape, there are doubts about the structure of their parties, ideology and electoral platforms.&nbsp;
Hurriedly set up parties without a shared philosophy have less chance of political influence and longevity. For example, the RSP was formed just months before the 2022 polls to become the fourth-largest party in Parliament, has lost its momentum, and its leader is in jail.
“Parties like the RSP, which did some positive work after being elected, have still not been able to establish a clear ideological roadmap or organisational structure,” Adhikari says. &nbsp;“It is easy to form parties, the real work goes into building an institution, which is the hard part”
Meanwhile, despite expectations of increased and inclusive youth participation not just at the polling booths but also on the ballot, only a few GenZ-led parties are applying at the Election Commission. They include the Rastriya Pariwartan Party and the Rastriya GenZ Party Nepal. Most other parties are led by men in their 40s, even in their 70s.&nbsp;
Analysts note that despite hopes of young blood in politics, Nepalis are still inclined to trust those with experience, as evidenced by GenZ’s choice of Sushila Karki to succeed KP Oli as Prime Minister after the September protests.&nbsp;
“So it will be difficult for young Nepalis without prior political experience to lead parties and it will be even more difficult for them to cultivate enough public trust to get votes,” says Adhikari.&nbsp;
Then there are the old political players, who have been breaking up and making up new alliances. Resham Chaudhary quit his Nagarik Unmukti Party and registered a new one.
Last week, Puspha Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre, and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s Unified Socialists merged along with smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party (NCP). Disgruntled former UML members like Bhim Rawal have also joined the NCP. On the other hand, Janardan Sharma has fallen out with Dahal and is going his own way.&nbsp;
Even though the NC, UML and NCP show little sign that they have learnt their lesson and will be turning a new leaf, they still have the party organisation and vote banks to fall back on at election time in the runup to 5 March. &nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “At the end of the day, Nepali society remains hyper-partisan. And although the newly-formed parties and their popular candidates may give older leaders a run for their money, established parties will still benefit from their solid vote base.”

Party Time

The sixth edition of PhotoKTM will mark a decade of visual storytelling and continue its role as a vital platform for photographers and visual artists to explore the politics of photographs and their role in shaping our histories and futures.&nbsp; The month-long festival across Kathmandu Valley features 18 exhibitions, slideshows, workshops, artist talks, panel discussions, portfolio reviews, and film screenings. While Nepal Art Council will be the anchor venue, the festival will go on the road in Mangahiti and Chyasal in Patan, Nigu Pukhu in Madhyapur Thimi, Nandi Keshar Bagaincha in Naxal and Tribhuvan University. The curatorial themes of PhotoKTM 6 Global South Solidarities draws inspiration from the historic 1955 Bandung Conference in Indonesia, which marks its 70th anniversary this year.&nbsp; The festival explores the political and cultural legacy of the Third World Project, exploring the history of global resistance and solidarity, and how they have shaped contemporary processes to reclaim sovereignty of regions battered by centuries of colonialism, exploitation, and violence.&nbsp; The festival spotlights the work and curatorial voices of artists from over 40 artists based in the Global South, from Santiago to Lubumbashi and Quito to Dakar, alongside Nepali photographers and filmmakers. “We hope this year’s coming together will deepen cultural understanding among artists and cultural communities across the Third World, strengthen reciprocal transnational solidarities through the sharing of our histories, stories, struggles and hopes, and open up pathways for more south-south collaboration and exchange across geographies,” says NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati, co-founder and festival director.&nbsp; Also featured are eight Nepali artists from the 2025 photo.circle fellowship cohort, whose works explore questions, challenges, and contradictions surrounding the notions of ‘development’ and ‘progress’ in contemporary Nepal.&nbsp; The festival comes two months after the GenZ protests, at a pivotal moment when Nepal is navigating significant political transitions. Says curator Diwas Raja KC: “From anti-colonial struggles to the Bandung Conference, to the non-alignment movement and revolutionary cultural exchanges, these histories continue to shape how countries like Nepal imagine their place in the world.”&nbsp; PhotoKTM6 is supported by the Shikshya Foundation Nepal, the Embassy of Switzerland in Nepal, as well as independent non-profit organisations FreeMuse and Cultural Workers Solidarity Front. “I think it is particularly relevant that these spaces are created and maintained because it is only if people meet and continue to do this important work, in which they think collectively, they work collectively, and they hold up certain values, that they will be capable of contributing to what I would call a ‘free world’,” says yasmine eid-sabbagh, who is the invited interlocutor to this year’s festival. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Ji ta Newa Bhyaa Mawa (I don’t know Nepal Bhasa)&nbsp;</h2> Jyoti Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: JYOTI SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  Jyoti Shrestha was born to Newar parents in Kathmandu but grew up without learning the mother tongue, Nepal Bhasa. ‘My parents, with the best of intentions, taught us English and Nepali—languages of success and survival in a world that had set ours aside... A Newar without language, I felt alien in the very culture that was meant to be mine,’ writes Shrestha in her testimony. Nepal Bhasa is in UNESCO’s ‘definitely endangered’ list. Shrestha has begun to learn her language with help from her parents, and in doing so, their relationship has shifted for the better. She adds: “No census counts the intimacy of a shared memory, the tenderness of language passed between generations, or the weight of an inherited silence.” <h2>The Land Remembers Our Name&nbsp;</h2> Rejin Purja  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RENJIN PURJA</figcaption> </figure>  The Department of Mines and Geology has confirmed the presence of iron ore in Jhumlawang in East Rukum. Iron mining has not started yet but a Kathmandu-based private company is said to have won the bid at Rs40.3 million. If the project indeed takes off, most of the families will have to be evacuated. “Not only will they lose their houses, land, and forests, but their roots, culture, and autonomy are also at stake. How can this project be considered of national benefit when it forces the very people it should serve to live in fear of their future?,” Rejin Purja writes in his testimony. Economic development exploits the natural resources of native and indigenous communities. Such projects may boost GDP and corporate profits, but they rarely improve the lives of the people whose land is being extracted from. This work reflects the uncertainty felt by the local people about their village’s future. <h2>Fragmented Land and Me</h2> Sujata Khadka  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUJATA KHADKA</figcaption> </figure>  Sujata Khadka’s ancestral home in Godavari’s Jharuwarasi was destroyed in the 2015 earthquake, after which her family built a new house on a small plot of land nearby. In the decade since the earthquake, rapid land trade has turned the farmland surrounding her home into a housing development. For the past 10 years, Khadka has been watching natural and man-made events unfold on the plots from her window on the second floor of her house. The land has been witness to playing children, negotiating brokers, bulldozers, and prowling wildlife. But despite relentless hemming and hawing by buyers and sellers over the past decade, no houses have been built on the land. &nbsp;“This misshapen land feels like a stage where a cast of characters performs an ongoing act,” says Khadka. “Perhaps this land and I are spectators to this drama.” <h2>Why doesn’t home feel like home?</h2> Karma Tshering Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TSHERING GURUNG</figcaption> </figure>  Karma Tshering Gurung was born in Manang to a Manangi family, where he was raised with his siblings. But in recent times, whenever he has visited his family in Manang, he has felt a sense of unease, like the place sees him as an occasional visitor, an outsider who no longer understands the aspirations of his people. As Manang becomes a tourist spot, Gurung’s brother thinks it is a good idea to tear down their ancestral house and build a snooker house in its place. But Gurung thinks the house is their Appa’s legacy, and worth preserving. The brothers’ ideas of home have diverged. &nbsp; &nbsp;“With a camera in hand, I am trying to rediscover my relationship with this place, with my past, navigating ideas of home and belonging tied to Manang,” he says. “Maybe home for me is no longer just a place, but this search for identity, memory and connection.” <h2>Life and Struggle of Garment Workers&nbsp;</h2> Taslima Akhter (Bangladesh)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: TASLIMA AKHTER@Taslima Akhter</figcaption> </figure>  This project focuses on the millions of workers who leave their villages and move into crowded worker barracks in the cities of Bangladesh, in search of a better life. <h2>Between Us, a Thread&nbsp;</h2> Ahmed Alaqra (Ramallah)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RUBA ALFARAOUNA</figcaption> </figure>  A quiet gesture between photographers, image-makers, and those who hold memory like a fragile light. Palestinian, Arab, scattered — yet orbiting the same wound.&nbsp; <h2>Possible and Imaginary Lives&nbsp;</h2> yasmine eid-sabbagh / Rozenn Quéré  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo Courtesy: YASMINE EID-SABBAGH AND ROZENN QUÉRÉ(Photo: ) </figcaption> </figure>  An exhibition, based on family photographs and taped interviews, tells the story of four strong and feisty Palestinian-Lebanese sisters, exiled to the four corners of the globe. <h2>Martyrs, Saints &amp; Sellouts&nbsp;</h2> Siona O’Connel (South Africa)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: BENNY GOOL</figcaption> </figure>  Comprised of photographs by Benny Gool, Zubeida Vallie and Adil Bradlow, documenting apartheid South Africa, this exhibition presents a vivid narrative of violence, loss and injuries that continue to reverberate under the rhetoric of the post apartheid landscape. <h2>Humo, Semilla, Raíz</h2> Isadora Romero (Ecuador)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: ISADORA ROMERO</figcaption> </figure>  An alternate look into environmental issues through the prism of possibility, instead of catastrophic consequence is what this exhibition brings. Romero’s visual research engages with how the loss of ancestral memory and Indigenous knowledge resulting from colonisation, forced displacement, and racism is causing seeds to disappear at an alarming rate. <h2>First week schedule (selected)</h2> Friday, 14 November Bhandarkhal Garden, Patan Museum, 5:30pm -7:30pm Festival Opening + Award of Excellence Saturday, 15 November Yala Maya Kendra, Patan Dhoka 3pm-4pm Demounting Louis Agassiz – Artistic Renegotiation of Archive, Memory &amp; Place. Talk by Sasha Huber (moderated by Diwas Raja Khatri) 4:30pm-6pm Witness or Accomplice: Photography, Human Rights and the Question of Freedom. Talk by Prof. Siona O’ Connell (moderated by NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati) Sunday, 16 November Yala Maya Kendra July, Unfinished. Jaheen Faruque Amin in conversation with Sabnam Lama, 3pm- 4pm When The World is Blind – Images by Palestinians. Ahmed Alaqra in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh, 4- 6pm Manga Hiti, 7pm-8pm Slideshow – Who Does The River Belong To? Monday, 17 November Yala Maya Kendra, 3pm - 4pm Memory is an Inaccurate Place: Dialogues Across Time, Territories, and Histories. Isadora Romero in conversation with Tanvi Mishra 4:30pm-6pm Third Camera – a Film Series: Ernest Cole: Lost and Found Dir. Raoul Peck 2024 | 1h 46m | English Tuesday, 18 November Yala Maya Kendra Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 1 Paola Farran in conversation with Jessica Lim, 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 2 Chelsea Chua in conversation with Tif Ng, 4pm:30-6pm Khapinchhen, Patan A Photographer’s Fifty-Year Journey in Nepal. A Slideshow and Talk with Kevin Bubriski, 7-7:30pm PhotoKTM Bhoé, 7:30pm-9:30pm Rs1,800 (early bird), Rs2,000 (door sale) Wednesday, 19 November Yala Maya Kendra 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 3 Andrea Thal in conversation with Diwas Raja Khatri 4:30pm-6pm We must refuse silence! Samir Eskanda, Shahidul Alam, and Tabara Korka Ndiaye in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh Thursday, 20 November Nepal Art Council, 4pm- 6pm Walk-thru at NAC with Enuma Rai, Jyoti Shrestha, Karma Tshering Gurung, Manoj Bohara, Manjit Lama, Rejin Purja, Sujata Khadka, Sushila Bishwakarma More details <a href="https://photoktm.com/photoktm6-schedule/">here</a>. PHOTOKTM6 14 November-14 December Kathmandu Valley All events free and open

The politics behind photographs

It was pure drama: the political transition in Madhes unfolded by the dawn’s early light. At around 4AM on Monday, Province Head Sumitra Subedi Bhandari quietly departed Janakpur saying she was headed to Kathmandu for health reasons.&nbsp;
Outgoing Chief Minister Jitendra Sonal, whose coalition had begun to unravel, even saw her off, asking supporters to clear the road for her motorcade.
But an hour later, instead of continuing on to the capital, Bhandari stopped in Bardibas on the East-West Highway. There, as the sun started rising over the misty plains, she administered the oath of office to Saroj Kumar Yadav of the CPN-UML, invoking Article 168(3) of the Constitution.&nbsp;
Bhandari is also a member of the CPN-UML. The provision she invoked is typically used only after coalitions fail under Article 168(2), and the timing and location of the swearing-in have since drawn scrutiny.
Bhandari was subsequently relieved of her duties, and former National Planning Commission member Surendra Labh Karna was sworn in as the new Madhes province head on Tuesday.
Sonal had formed his government barely a month ago, with the backing of 56 provincial lawmakers but it became evident he would not secure the 54 votes needed to survive a confidence motion.&nbsp;
Several lawmakers in his coalition publicly signalled they would abstain. Still, the seven-party alliance that opposed Yadav’s appointment argues that the Province Head, who is the highest constitutional rank in the provincial structure, acted prematurely and under pressure from central UML party command.&nbsp;
A coalition of seven parties, including the Nepali Congress (NC), had been urging the Province Head to invite them to form a new government under Article 168(2). At the same time, the UML, which had been holding demonstrations outside the Province Head’s office in Janakpur, was calling for the formation of a minority government under Article 168(3).
The alliance of the seven parties that included the NC and Maoist Centre took to the streets. By mid-morning, protests had escalated outside Madhes Bhawan with cadre vandalising both the Chief Minister’s office and the Province Head’s office.
This was the third government in Madhes to fall since the 2022 provincial elections, and it follows a similar pattern. The previous Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh of the Janamat Party, resigned before a scheduled confidence vote after losing the support of his own party and others including NC and LSP.&nbsp;
His resignation unfolded amid nationwide GenZ protests against corruption, demanding accountability and reform. The recurring instability points to a structural tension in Nepal’s federalism.&nbsp;
Provincial politics remain closely tied to alliances shaped in Kathmandu. The withdrawal of support by parties like the NC and Maoist Centre in provinces often reflects national-level calculations rather than provincial priorities.
As a result, the Provincial Assembly is repeatedly consumed by survival of the coalition instead of governance. Development work stalls. Budget execution slows. Public frustration grows. In a province that was at the forefront of the movement for federalism to counter what is seen as neglect, apathy and discrimination by Kathmandu, the sense that the system may not delivering on its promise is becoming increasingly pronounced.
If federalism is to be strengthened, provincial governments must be able to function with a degree of autonomy that currently exists more in principle than in practice. Otherwise, the perception that federalism is costly, unstable, and ineffective will continue to expand, providing fertile ground for anti-federal sentiment that is already gaining traction.
Earlier examples such as the NC General Secretary Bishwo Prakash Sharma in January calling for a new government in Madhes led by his party demonstrates how the central party leadership deliberately intervenes in provincial affairs. His remarks came during campaigns for bi-elections in Madhes when former CM Singh had been in office for six months only.&nbsp;
Likewise, in early June 2024, the federal coalition in Kathmandu shifted from a Maoist Centre and NC to form a new alliance between the NC &nbsp;and the UML. Within a day, coalition negotiations in Madhes changed to mirror this.
UML leaders publicly stated: “The issues at the federal and provincial levels will be resolved together.” This indicated that the realignment in Madhes followed national party decisions rather than provincial deliberation.
The events that unfolded in Madhes are a reminder that federalism in Nepal is still in transition, and that its success depends on political actors honouring the constitutional framework.

Chronic instability in the Madhes

Under the October sun, workers rest on boulders by the banks of the Rolwaling Khola. They are building what they already know may not last: a temporary bridge between the villages of Dongang and Thanding directly downstream from the Tso Rolpa glacial lake.&nbsp; Tso Rolpa used to be a debris-covered glacier with a few ponds 30 years ago. Since then it has steadily expanded into a lake 3.2km long and 100m deep dammed by a fragile moraine perched precariously above the Tama Kosi valley. The bridge is just a few long logs lashed together, anchored to giant boulders on both sides of the roaring rapids. Until a more permanent trail bridge is built, the community will have to rely on these makeshift crossings that are swept away every monsoon and have to be rebuilt.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103118_ac52a73789fa9097f46d1376e7dac9ba671a4c432f21d7570fc788b3b2e05c48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025111103118_ac52a73789fa9097f46d1376e7dac9ba671a4c432f21d7570fc788b3b2e05c48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1037" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu" target="_blank">Janmu Sherpa</a>, a grandmother who ran one of Dongang’s only two lodges, was swept away when the Dorji Phungmo glacial lake up the valley burst in June last year. Her body was never found. She had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/human-face-of-a-himalayan-climate-crisis" target="_blank">told a Nepali Times reporter</a> in 2020: “No one knows when the lakes will burst, let fate decide.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103110_8502e7de17f6d561038ecc0a9bb718109d20068690980276a3fb8e8802b54715.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025111103110_8502e7de17f6d561038ecc0a9bb718109d20068690980276a3fb8e8802b54715" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="933" loading="lazy" alt="Janmu Sherpa NT"> <figcaption>Janmu Sherpa</figcaption> </figure>  Tanka Raj Rai is a climbing guide and has watched the lake grow over the years. This year he is leading two French trekkers to Yalung Ri Base Camp and over the Tashi Lapcha Pass to the Khumbu.&nbsp; “Tso Rolpa has become much bigger than the first time I saw it,” Rai tells us. “And the pass will be more dangerous in future because of frequent avalanches and rock falls. The mountains, lake and rivers will continue to exist, but human beings may not unless we change course.” &nbsp; Tso Rolpa’s water level was reduced by 3m in in 2000 by building a sluice gate and spillway, but researchers say that as the lake continues to expand, a further drawdown of 11.5m will be needed to lower the risk of it bursting during a future earthquake, or if an avalanche falls into it. If that happens, it would be catastrophic for the settlements, hydropower plants, highways and airports down the Tama Kosi valley.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103118_eb45429b7fe436295a713197c547252fb698eb2f2b6b7b5146cb097b96ee76e1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111103118_eb45429b7fe436295a713197c547252fb698eb2f2b6b7b5146cb097b96ee76e1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="1551" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>  Just over the Tashi Lapcha Pass on the other side is Thame village, which has been battered repeatedly since 1985 when the Dig Tso glacial lake burst, destroying a hydropower plant and the trekking trail to Everest Base Camp. Two other lakes burst in August last year and the debris flow swept away half the houses in Thame. &nbsp; The National Adaptation Plan (2021–2050) warns that in the next five years most districts in Kosi, Madhes, Bagmati, and Gandaki Provinces will face high to very high climate risk. The Tarai will experience more floods and heatwaves, while mountain regions will see extreme weather and glacial lake outburst floods — the risk compounded by earthquakes.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251111031120_84cf391da04d064bd016785b94a7831655348c8ac878ccc49c4d3e697b58a6da.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251111031120_84cf391da04d064bd016785b94a7831655348c8ac878ccc49c4d3e697b58a6da" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1109" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>  Tso Rolpa, which lies directly below Mt Gauri Shankar ((7,181m) in the Rolwaling, is scenic — the lake’s surface simmers in the sunlight and snow-capped peaks tower on all sides. This time of year, the moraine overlooking the lake becomes a popular selfie spot for trekkers. Yet, the raw beauty of the mountains distracts from the fact that the lake is a ticking time bomb as the glacier recedes and shrinks. This presents a clear and present danger for hydropower plants downstream in Dolakha and beyond the confluence of the Tama Kosi with the Sun Kosi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103118_8113aa5a7f2829f3f961d435168cb4e5aee6bf64c4f4229051d36c29adee648c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025111103118_8113aa5a7f2829f3f961d435168cb4e5aee6bf64c4f4229051d36c29adee648c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1087" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>  LOOMING THREAT Nepal generates 3,500MW of &nbsp;hydropower, but the country’s energy future is threatened because most of the plants depend on water from melting Himalayan ice. And as the glaciers are replaced by lakes, they face additional risk of them bursting. This looming threat is most real with Tso Rolpa, which feeds the Rolwaling Khola that joins the Tama Kosi just above the power house of the 456MW Upper Tamakoshi Hydropower Project that came into operation in 2021 at a cost of $450 million Tso Rolpa is one of Nepal’s largest and most unstable glacial lakes, and if it bursts it could obliterate the plant’s structures. The power house was destroyed in 2023 by a rockfall that killed four engineers, but is now back in operation after expensive repairs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251111031116_e807dd6ed8f7aa220727878aec2f68ad492948d30bf58f741b843d520a20b41f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251111031116_e807dd6ed8f7aa220727878aec2f68ad492948d30bf58f741b843d520a20b41f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="1525" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103118_84d343bcc476b4a7af14ef9df3544426d60c520b4aeda7866d3a2967dc64c12b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025111103118_84d343bcc476b4a7af14ef9df3544426d60c520b4aeda7866d3a2967dc64c12b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1205" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>  Dolakha district has prospered from the construction of over a dozen hydropower plants that could generate up to one-fourth of Nepal’s total generation capacity. Even more hydropower schemes are under construction or planned.&nbsp; Nepal's Energy Development Roadmap and Action Plan 2025 aims to increase generation capacity to 28,000MW in the next ten years to create potential for economic growth, job creation, and 15,000MW for export. Investments totalling $46.5 billion will be needed to meet the ambitious target, but factoring in climate risk would make it even more challenging to achieve. The sector has also been plagued by corruption and bureaucratic delays caused by outdated Environment Impact Assessments and local opposition.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103118_67138dacd205955bf3de4f830ee8331f7004d7a3ec8b6044bc8e3f3ebbf66c87.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025111103118_67138dacd205955bf3de4f830ee8331f7004d7a3ec8b6044bc8e3f3ebbf66c87" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="866" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111103118_302310aa3816de798485ea8eacceb1a51d446575a1bde3f468bb42a05da9f0ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025111103118_302310aa3816de798485ea8eacceb1a51d446575a1bde3f468bb42a05da9f0ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="1539" loading="lazy" alt="Hydropower on thin ice NT"> </figure>  For districts like Dolakha, the opportunities come with hazards as demonstrated by almost annual floods and landslides. But these recent disasters could be dwarfed by potential future glacial lake outbursts due to climate breakdown. Here in Dongang, the problem needs a more immediate solution as workers finish hammering together this year’s post-monsoon bridge over the Rolwaling Khola. The budget from the provincial government for a permanent suspension bridge is delayed because of the GenZ unrest, says Ward 9 Chair Imgeli Sherpa. &nbsp; The community is building more than a bridge between two villages — it is suspended between resilience and risk, and the hope that its fragile foundations will hold as the rivers rise and glaciers melt.

Hydropower on thin ice

This is the 73rd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I don’t remember playing with dolls as a little girl. There is not much to remember from my childhood.&nbsp; My responsibilities began at a very young age, as I had two younger brothers to take care of. I was born in Sarlahi, but we moved around quite a bit as my father was in the government and got transferred frequently.&nbsp; From Rasuwa to Dang, from Nepalgunj to Kathmandu. I struggled to adjust in Kathmandu because I joined Grade 9 in the middle of the term. The education was different and fellow students also did not support me initially. But over time, I adjusted and made friends. I did not dream of becoming a nurse. It was by accident. I wanted to pursue medicine, but failed the entrance exam by a few marks. I did not want to lose a year, so decided to take up microbiology instead.&nbsp; I got married after my undergraduate, and my husband encouraged me to take up something more technical like nursing or engineering instead of Masters in Microbiology. As my quantitative background was weak, I chose nursing. I felt like I was born to be a nurse. Juggling my married life and studies was difficult. My teachers would often ask me why I am falling behind. It was not easy, but I managed and took up a full-time job as a nurse. There are challenges being a nurse in Nepal. You are overworked, underpaid, there is lack of appreciation. Superiors can be overbearing. These problems persist. But the bright spot is that you get to serve fellow Nepalis, and be close to your family.&nbsp; Just like I had no intention initially of becoming a nurse, I had no intention of migrating overseas. But life had different plans for me. After my baby boy was born, I noticed that something was off. Even at nine months he had not started crawling or sitting. As a nurse I knew something was wrong, and I took him for check-ups. He tested negative for down syndrome, but he had a heart defect.&nbsp; The cardiologist recommended that I take him to India where he was diagnosed with Williams Syndrome, a rare genetic condition that affects 1 in 10,000 people. It delayed his development. I looked for therapy. It was either not effective, or too expensive. Some schools also refused to admit him, and it drove me to tears.&nbsp; My family members overseas in the UK, US told me to emigrate as there were better facilities for differently abled children. So I decided to apply to the UK. Luckily just then there were calls for candidates under the Nepal-UK government-to-government pilot scheme for 100 nurses. Only 40 met the criteria, and I was one of them.&nbsp; I still remember the day I received the news on the day of my puja. There were people around me, and they told me that it was the result of my fasting and devotion on that auspicious day. Perhaps it was. Life was taking a new turn, and I was happy. I made it to the UK in February 2024 without paying a single paisa to any broker. The G2G scheme was unique as we were treated with dignity and valued for our skills: they covered costs for the ticket and visa, reimbursed us for exams we had taken and costs involved in the preparation and testing of the Objective Structured Clinical Examination were also covered.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071148_dc5a0d0ea3024b34a4f2735754f8eb67a650bc7f61b98c75d589676c65b02a0c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251106071148_dc5a0d0ea3024b34a4f2735754f8eb67a650bc7f61b98c75d589676c65b02a0c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Nurses NT"> </figure>  It was of course difficult to leave my son behind. But I was doing it for his future. I had the option of taking him from the start, but it was a new place and I wanted to be well-settled and knowledgeable about the options available for him before bringing him along. As I packed, he would ask me to take him with me in my suitcase. It did not seem like he was affected by my departure, and it was only later that his teachers said that he would express his feelings more openly at school. He just did not know how to tell me he missed me, and he would tell teachers he was worried I had forgotten him if we did not speak for a day.&nbsp; He missed me, and that realisation made me emotional. But I had to carry on. Life in the UK was difficult in the beginning. Even so, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Fortunately I had cooperative staff who patiently answered my questions. I think I would have been irritated if I were in their place. But they did not seem to mind, and their support and guidance made it easy for me to adjust to the new work environment. APPRECIATION I still struggle to understand the accent of my English patients, and have ask the matron for help. They compliment me on my English, but I can speak better than I understand. The good thing about working in the UK is that you are appreciated for your work, which can be motivating. Sometimes, after a long day’s work you get a message from your supervisor acknowledging your work with a thank you. That’s enough to erase your tiredness.&nbsp; So far I have received 32 WOW nominations which are acknowledgements from patients for a job well done. It can be motivating, especially in the beginning. The main difference between the Alpana who first left Kathmandu for the UK and the Alpana now is that I am a much more confident person. What makes a good nurse? Skills, knowledge and qualifications are of course a given. But mostly, you need humanity. A smiling face. The way you communicate. Your empathy. These attributes can already solve many problems that patients are facing. This is my second time back home in the last 20 months. And this time, I have arranged for my son’s visa. I will go back after Tihar with my son and husband.&nbsp; I am happy, but also a little nervous about what awaits us. What kind of school will I put him in? Will it really be different from schools here? Will his needs be addressed? Will it be like here, or will he be able to adjust?&nbsp; But I am determined to make it work. Success for me would be if he adjusted well and there is a change in his condition. He still cannot recognise alphabets and read words like kids in his age group. Hopefully he will get learning support in the UK. He also has a knack for music, and this is common among individuals with Williams Syndrome. His ears perk up when he hears music, and he takes part in musical events at school. He still does not recognise letters &nbsp;but he uses voice commands to search for guitar videos on YouTube. I will enrol him in music classes, and help him develop this gift. For now, I worry how he will behave on his long flight. He has a short attention span and gets restless. He is also very social and will want to speak with everyone around him, and might irritate fellow passengers.&nbsp; I have already started trying to make him understand that he will need to behave on the flight. He nods in agreement. Let’s see how it goes. &nbsp;

“I felt like I was born to be a nurse”

A month after September’s GenZ movement in Nepal, nurses working in private hospitals took to the streets demanding better work conditions, and salaries equal to what government nurses are paid.&nbsp;
The strike started at Pokhara’s Manipal Teaching Hospital before spreading nationwide, and nurses working at government hospitals joined in.&nbsp;
Nurses at private hospitals are forced to work for far less than Nepal’s minimum monthly wage of Rs19,550 — without overtime, breaks, and other benefits and under physically and mentally taxing conditions. This is driving many qualified nurses to emigrate.
For newly-appointed Health Minister Sudha Sharma Gautam in the interim government, the strike became her first order of business. She met representatives of the Nursing Association of Nepal (NAN), the protesting nurses, and others from the health sector.&nbsp;
An agreement was reached under which private hospitals and medical colleges will pay nurses a minimum monthly salary of Rs34,730. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
“It is a shame that nurses have been working under such exploitative conditions all this time” says Radha Adhikari, at the School of Health and Life Sciences of the University of the West of Scotland. “The agreement is basic, and there is a long way to go to improve their working conditions. But it is a start.”
NAN chair Chandrakala Sharma has said the ministry’s task force to look into working conditions will also look into facilities for nurses in government hospitals.&nbsp;
“We are committed to solidifying the wage agreement by amending relevant laws within this month,” Sharma said in a video posted by NAN on Facebook. “Our movement is not over, we are still protesting and &nbsp;following up with the Ministry.”
NAN issued an ultimatum to the government to implement the agreements within 48 hours. That deadline has now lapsed and the nurses are back on strike. Many of those protesting now accuse NAN of betraying them.
Jyoti Ranabhat of the Nurses Struggle Committee was present in the meeting, but refused to sign the agreement. “It did not address what we were demanding, we will now go it alone into Plan B,” she tells Nepali Times.&nbsp;
Previous grievances of the nurses did result in similar agreements, but private hospitals failed to comply with government’s past directives — most recently the minimum salary and benefit determined by the state in December 2024.&nbsp;
The Nepal Nursing Council says there are 126,580 registered nurses, specialists, midwives, and Auxiliary Nurse Midwife (ANM) professionals in Nepal. Yet, nursing positions at hospitals remain vacant.&nbsp;
The reason for understaffing is a mass emigration of medical professionals, including nurses. Nursing student enrollment is also declining and there is disinterest in a profession that does not afford health workers quality of life, respect, or dignity.
“Our fight is not with the private sector, it is by definition profit-oriented, our grievance is with the state,” says Ranabhat. “The government is responsible to provide us dignity, respect, and fair pay.”&nbsp;
GREENER PASTURES
Poor pay and working conditions are driving doctors and nurses abroad in large numbers in recent years. Many have simply quit the profession, leading to a shortfall in medical professionals. 

The shortage of nurses is a global phenomenon, and countries like the US, UK and Australia have compensated for their own shortage by offering jobs from countries like the Philippines, India and Nepal.&nbsp;
Nepal Nursing Council data shows that outmigration of nurses rose sharply after 2002, and an estimated &nbsp;20,000-45,000 nurses have left since.
“The state’s denial, derision, and disregard of nurses has caused resentment and disillusionment in the community, driving nurses out,” says Ranabhat. “Ultimately, Nepalis will pay the price when there are no nurses left here.”
Many Nepali nurses who have gone abroad are happy with the respect and quality of life in their jobs abroad. But many others face exploitative recruiters in Nepal and employers abroad. Nursing consultancies have mushroomed as nursing colleges struggle to meet demand.&nbsp;
Adhikari herself worked at United Mission Hospital Tansen before moving to the UK 30 years ago, and remembers that working conditions then were much better for nurses.&nbsp;
“Nepal’s health sector has gone downhill since privatisation,” she states. “Medical colleges are only concerned with supplying doctors and nurses internationally, because that is what makes money.”
But once Nepal’s nurses are abroad, there is no guarantee that they will have jobs in the nursing sector. Many find themselves working outside their field of expertise, in hospitality or sales.&nbsp;
“Nepal has become a production hub for nurses, and Nepali nurses have become products for export,” adds Ranabhat. &nbsp;“People might think this will add to remittances, but no one is thinking about what will happen to Nepal’s health sector.”&nbsp;
For many, nursing has become a way out of Nepal rather than a vocation. In 2022, the government signed an agreement with the UK to send Nepali nurses to work there at zero cost, with benefits and protection equal to UK nurses.&nbsp;
The pilot phase was expected to recruit 100 nurses, and applications opened in July 2023, with 45 nurses said to be selected by Britain’s NHF representatives by the end of 2023. Forty-one of them obtained labour permits.&nbsp;
They may be treated well, but the reality of working in the international health sector is not as straightforward.
Radha Adhikari told us from Scotland: “Market saturation, exploitation, discrimination based on race, gender, and foreignness prevent nurses from finding the right, respectful jobs even here. Ultimately, migration cannot be sustainable for Nepal’s nurses.”

Nepal haemorrhaging nurses

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Twenty years ago this week, we reported about how malnutrition was indirectly responsible for 70% of all child mortality in Nepal, and how inadequate food increased susceptibility to diarrhoea, measles and acute respiratory infection.
In 2025, malnutrition is still one of the biggest causes of child mortality, except now it is not simply a lack of food but also too much junk food in the diet. Purchasing power has increased, but we are eating more of what we should not be eating.
Excerpt of a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=570">report </a>published in <a href="https://d1i1jdw69xsqx0.cloudfront.net/digitalhimalaya/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_256.pdf">issue #256 15 – 21 July 2005</a>:
Despite recent official statements about rising average living standards, grinding poverty and the conflict, the effects of junk food in cities have made undernourishment and malnutrition a serious national epidemic.
Protein-energy malnutrition affects 63 percent of Nepali children which means they don't get enough food to ensure normal physical and mental development. More than half of Nepali children are therefore physically stunted, and although this is reversible if the child starts eating enough after age two, they may suffer learning disabilities as well if undernourishment persists .
Hunger increases their susceptibility to diarrhoea, measles and acute respiratory infection. Diarrhoeal dehydration alone causes an estimated 30,000 child deaths every year as undernourished children are weaker and more likely to be brought down by the vicious spiral of disease and malnutrition. Combined with worms, undernourishment is seen by many as Nepal's primary health concern for children.
Malnutrition hits many Nepali children even before they are born because their mothers don't have adequate food while pregnant. Between 30-50 percent of Nepali children are born underweight, below 2.5 kg.
For archived material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/">nepalitimes.com</a>

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