The Kangchenjunga Trek in far-eastern Nepal is a remote and less-crowded adventure that offers raw wilderness, diverse cultures, and breathtaking terrain below the world’s third highest mountain. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) grabbed the world’s attention before Mt Everest ever did because its imposing rampart dominated the northern horizon from Darjeeling, the summer refuge for the British in India. The Kangchenjunga massif is more a mountain range rather than a peak, its high ridge stretching 25km from Nepal to Sikkim.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c" data-rendition-name="original" width="938" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga trail map"></figure>  Sikkim considers the mountain sacred, and has banned mountaineering expeditions. But the various prominences of Kangchenjunga are increasingly popular for climbers via the north face in Nepal. For non-mountaineers, even the Kangchenjunga trek can be arduous, especially in winter. It is one of the last pure wilderness areas in Nepal, traversing sparsely populated valleys that are rich in biodiversity because of the high annual rainfall. Even when Nepal was a forbidden land, among the first foreign visitors was British botanist J D Hooker who explored the Nepal side of Kangchenjunga in 1850 to collect plant samples. The peak was first climbed in 1955, two years after the first ascent of Mt Everest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The establishment of Kangchenjunga Conservation Area in September 2006 was accompanied by tragedy when 24 people, including Nepal’s nature preservation pioneers were killed in a helicopter crash. The Conservation Area is now the only one managed completely by the local indigenous people. It has 70 varieties of orchids, 30 rhododendron types, and 15 out of 28 endemic plants of Nepal. Kangchenjunga still gets very few of the 200,000 foreign trekkers who visit Nepal every year, but improved road access in recent years is making it more popular. Trekkers have a choice of exploring the North Base Camp (Pangpema) or the South Base Camp (Yalung Glacier), or combine both for the full Kangchenjunga Circuit (map). This trek is considered strenuous, with long walking days, high altitude, and tea house accommodation that is much more basic than the Everest or Annapurna regions. Trekkers have to be fit and with prior hiking experience. Most teams take tents and camp, and carry most of their food.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  FULL CIRCUIT Because the region is restricted, trekkers must obtain a permit and be accompanied by a licensed guide. A full circuit can take three weeks, while doing only the North or South Base Camps will take two weeks, including flying from Kathmandu to Bhadrapur and jeep to Taplejung or a rough trail to Hellok. The lower forested stretches are teeming with wildlife, and this is red panda and snow leopard country. The streams and ponds have amphibians and reptiles, some of which have not yet even been classified. The route also passes the homelands of the Limbu, Rai and Tibetan communities with the local culture and architecture more intact than in most other mountain areas of Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The best seasons to trek are spring (March–May) and autumn (September–November). There are fewer trekkers and climbers in winter, and many of the birds and wildlife have migrated down to warmer climes. Despite its beauty, trekkers should be prepared for challenges like long distances between villages, unpredictable weather, and limited emergency rescue options due to the remoteness of the area — all even more challenging in winter. Norbu Lama is an international hiking guide with www.dolpocaravantreks.com and just returned after leading a trek to Kangchenjunga Base Camps.

Kangchenjunga in winter

Bottom

Turkish Airlines has launched an investment initiative to strengthen Türkiye’s aviation infrastructure and advance its competitive edge. Groundbreaking ceremonies were held for eight new facilities with a total investment value exceeding TRY100 billion primarily at Istanbul Airport, homebase of the flag carrier. Said Turkish Airlines Chair Ahmet Bolat: "In line with our 2033 targets, we are developing not only our fleet but also the robust infrastructure that will allow us to fully utilise this fleet.”

Turkish investment

NRB is selling one-year bonds to soak up extra cash sitting idle in banks. It has offered Rs155 billion in bonds since 29 December. Banks buy these bonds using spare money, which temporarily moves it to the central bank. This helps slow down inflation and pushes banks to lend more.

NRB issues bonds

Kaligandaki Rural Municipality in Syangja is offering Rs4,000 a month for two years to families with three or more children. The local government hopes the incentive will boost the region’s declining population. Villages are emptying as people have fewer children or move out.&nbsp;

Kid bonus in Syangja

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

Only a handful of people who witnessed the 1934 megaquake as children are still alive. And the memories of 2015 are fading fast.&nbsp;
We were shaken, but have not stirred into action. We have not even started preparing to be prepared for the inevitable, for it is not a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’.&nbsp;
Thursday 15 January was National Earthquake Safety Day commemorating the 1934 disaster that killed 10,000 people in Kathmandu Valley at a time when its population was barely 100,000.
Nepal is in an active seismic zone, and a really big one is overdue in the seismic gap in western Nepal where there has not been a megaquake for 500 years. The 7.8M quake in 2015 did not completely release the tectonic stress below Central Nepal.
An 8M+ earthquake epicentred in western Nepal will be even more violent than the 2015 one in Kathmandu and will be powerful enough to cause destruction across northern India as well.&nbsp;
We Nepalis are resilient, but we are also complacent and fatalistic. How else does one explain the unsafe and unplanned building construction in Kathmandu, Pokhara and other towns despite frequent reminders of what quakes can do?&nbsp;
Most designs are ad hoc and follow no engineering logic. Reinforced Cement Concrete (RCC) is now widespread across the country since such structures mostly withstood the 2015 event. But structural engineers say most concrete buildings are substandard, and can be death traps. Also, the country lacks equipment and training for search and rescue in cement houses.&nbsp;
FIRE HAZARD
If an earthquake struck Kathmandu on a windy winter evening, there is the added risk of fires from gas cylinders in collapsed buildings spreading across the densely packed city core. Fire trucks will not be able to reach those areas because the streets will be blocked.
Seismic risk is now amplified by climate breakdown. Nepal now needs to factor in the co-hazard of massive avalanches and Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) triggered by future earthquakes. There are 41 potentially dangerous glacial lakes in the region, and 27 of them are in Tibet feeding rivers that flow into Nepal. A megaquake there could cause multiple simultaneous GLOFs.&nbsp;
If the 2015 earthquake had not happened on a Saturday, tens of thousands of children could have been killed in the 7,000 schools that were flattened. More than 2,500 government buildings came down, and would have killed and trapped many if it had not been a weekend.
Schools and health facilities retrofitted before the disaster were unscathed, and served as shelters for survivors. Chhatrapati Free Clinic (CFC) was reinforced three years before the earthquake for Rs5.2 million, and with support from National Society of Earthquake Technology (NSET), 800 community members were trained in search and rescue.
Bhuwaneswori Secondary School in Bhaktapur and Bal Bikas Secondary School in Kathmandu both survived 2015 because they had been retrofitted. Singha Darbar, the Supreme Court and the Department of Roads buildings were also made seismic resistant after 2015 quake, but the arson attacks on 9 September gutted them.
While many private residential homes built after 2015 continue to flout building codes, municipalities are now stricter. New schools and colleges, hospitals and high rises now have to meet stringent requirements for seismic resistance.
Nepal is a hotspot for many types of disasters — earthquakes, floods, droughts, glacial outbursts, wildfires. These are not ‘natural’ disasters, they are human induced. Earthquakes do not kill people, poorly-built buildings do. Climate breakdown is anthropogenic.&nbsp;
Waiting for a disaster to strike means we have waited too long. Search and rescue readiness are well and good, but much more important is preparedness — seismic resistance structures especially of public buildings, strict zoning to establish open spaces, pre-positioning supplies and simulated drills.
We do not know how much time we have before the next one. But it is not too late to start preparing. &nbsp;
Sonia Awale

Shaken, but not stirred

With 49 days to go for polls, we asked eight of the 800,000 first time voters about their voting preferences.&nbsp; The GenZ movement has impacted on new and old political parties and their alliances. Some have pledged to represent youth aspirations, while older parties have mobilised younger members. However, the UML, NC and NCP still do not practice internal democracy, and have not responded to the popular demand for change.&nbsp; An example of this was the split in the NC (page 4). The very fact that it has put up Gagan Thapa as prime ministerial candidate is a response to the RSP fielding the GenZ favourite Balen Shah.&nbsp; Even so, Kulman Ghising quitting the RSP has shown that the new parties are not really ‘new’. Not many GenZs are contesting in the elections barring the likes of Sudan Gurung. Some are trying to influence parties from behind the scenes. Geopoliical pressure seems to have forced the RSP to withdraw Tashi Lhazom from its PR list.&nbsp; Nevertheless, an election that looked near impossible is now on track. But what do the young new voters want, and will they make a difference? Watch an exclusive video on our YouTube channel.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260115110136_18ae7337821e5cca286b77fa15cc443a06037a100995116fea24277f9787cf06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260115110136_18ae7337821e5cca286b77fa15cc443a06037a100995116fea24277f9787cf06" data-rendition-name="original" width="1281" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="first time voters"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260115110136_f1a9641760f0ddf694dc8d9dceab975170bda684b5b0771117cbff15672b3c3a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260115110136_f1a9641760f0ddf694dc8d9dceab975170bda684b5b0771117cbff15672b3c3a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="first time voters"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Which way GenZ voters?

This is the first instalment of our new series Nepal Made, where we profile world-class Nepali products and the people behind them. The Himalaya is the home to Ayurveda, the preventive and curative medicinal practice that relies on the tremendous diversity of plant life. This is where Hanuman is said to have come to find a specific rare herb when Ram was wounded in battle. When he could not find it, he tore off a whole mountain and hauled it down to Lanka. Since then, herbal medicines and care products have been steadily modernised in India and Nepal. Now, one Kathmandu-based company, Herveda, is going global with an all-natural skincare brand that blends traditional knowledge of medicinal plants with modern technology. Originally a Sanskrit word, Ayurveda literally means ‘the science of life’ and promotes physical and mental wellbeing through a holistic knowledge system that is 4,000 years old. Ayurvedic products have gotten more popular as global demand rises for all-natural, chemical-free cosmetic and wellness products, instead of wasteful fast fashion and beauty trends. Herveda was founded by Prativa Pandey, a scientist-entrepreneur and mother of two. She did her PhD in nanotechnology chemistry from Northwestern University in the United States and returned to Nepal in 2015 after the earthquake, staying back to explore the market and launch her brand.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_b699e74ee82333951b99b22648705dc916deb8eef3d425c77c1e2f3b1058a64d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251218141216_b699e74ee82333951b99b22648705dc916deb8eef3d425c77c1e2f3b1058a64d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  “I wanted to do something in Nepal, but didn’t want to be a doctor or engineer,” says Pandey at the elegant Herveda showroom in Jhamsikhel. “Whatever knowledge that I had gathered, I wanted to spread it in my own country.” Nepal is rich in traditional medicinal herbs and Ayurvedic plants, but proper utilisation and mobilisation has always been lagging. Most of the benefits are reaped by large companies and not local farmers. Pandey wanted to change that. To ensure that it gives back to the community, Herveda collaborates with farmers and local traders for fair trade. “I have always been fascinated by the medicinal herbs found in Nepal, and wanted to create high value products with them. It was a way to combine valuable indigenous knowledge with my academic research background,” adds Pandey. “I did not require a huge investment, just a proper marketing strategy.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_350f6eb1511523ea54a8aba468f20a7dffcb5def3fade4dcced30324417f83bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251218141216_350f6eb1511523ea54a8aba468f20a7dffcb5def3fade4dcced30324417f83bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  According to the Trade and Promotion Center under the Ministry of Industry, Nepal’s import of cosmetic products is increasing every year, driven by demand from a younger population. These younger customers are also more conscious about the products they use. For brands like Herveda, it is important that customers engage in wellness and skincare in an ethical and sustainable manner. Apart from being all natural, Herveda’s flagship store in Jhamsikhel has a reuse box where consumers can drop used bottles, which are then recycled. The store also displays products from 35 local businesses. Pandey believes that Nepali brands should cross-promote and complement each other: “Rather than competing, I believe we should support each other. 1+1 can be 11, and not two.” Effectiveness and functionality hold great importance for Herveda. which employs 25 scientists to develop and lab test its products at its research institute. Currently, there are products ranging from Rs400-2,000, which include lip balms, serums, and essential oils. A signature product is the Berry Boost Radiance Mask, which contains Spikenard (Jatamansi), Ashwagandha, Orange Peel, and Rhododendron.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_7ec1104e0dd63db2fbbfe666034b468fe5b7e6876fde8b5446cb9d9fe27566cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251218141216_7ec1104e0dd63db2fbbfe666034b468fe5b7e6876fde8b5446cb9d9fe27566cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  Herveda exports to the United States and plans to expand to China and Europe. The products get a 50-100% markup in the international market. The company recently received a grant from UKAid to expand the market as well as build capacity to scale up. It has partnered with Agriplayer software to help to develop QR codes on its products, which consumers will be able to scan to track the product sources and evaluate pricing. Nepal lags behind in rules and regulations, and the lack of monitoring has allowed low quality cosmetic products to penetrate into the market. Herveda has got an international certification from USFTA, which is important for its foray into the export market. “For the cosmetic industry to scale up, there should be a central testing facility that is well equipped and meets international standards. Additionally, export should be made easy,” adds Pandey. “If there are too many barriers to entry, no one will be willing to invest.”

Looking good by doing good

Featured videos

The Himalaya is melting twice as fast as the global average, and this is accelerated by air pollution. Called black carbon, suspended particles emitted by industries, vehicle exhaust, or forest fires accelerate glacial retreat in High Asia. Dark matter makes the ice melt faster (as seen in Kapuche Lake in Kaski, pictured above).
The snowline is already retreating up the mountains due to winter drought and global warming, and this process is quickened by black carbon and reduced snowfall.
The Cryosphere Report 2025 by the International Cryosphere Climate Initiative (ICCI) underscores these alarming trends. Between 2000 and 2023, mountain glaciers lost an average of 273 gigatons of ice per year. Even the higher central and eastern regions of High Mountain Asia are projected to lose up to 60% of existing ice under a 1.5°C warming scenario and only 15% may remain if it touches 3°C.
The Hindu Kush and Karakoram were relatively stable in recent decades, but may lose 40% of their ice under a 2°C future but only 15% under a 1.5°C pathway.
These losses are not merely physical or environmental. They translate into long-term water, food, economic, and political insecurity for millions. According to the report, such cryosphere-driven impacts should be considered permanent on human time scales.
“Frozen systems are highly sensitive to seasonal changes, and their degradation can dramatically increase hazards such as rockfalls and landslides, threatening communities, infrastructure,” Hugues Lantuit, Researcher at the Alfred Wegener Institute, told Nepali Times in Belém. “This is why we need collaboration between researchers, local governments, and communities that translate scientific knowledge into practical adaptation strategies.”
At COP30 in Belém, global climate negotiations faced widespread criticism for sidelining key science. Major emitter countries were held unaccountable, and progress on phasing out fossil fuels was delayed. Only 88 countries have voluntarily supported a roadmap to phase out fossil fuels. While the biggest emitters continue to delay commitments, countries in the Global South bear the brunt of climate impact.
Since science was not sufficiently prioritised, important topics like the cryosphere received limited attention. Most cryosphere related events at COP30 were organised at a pavilion jointly hosted by ICCI and Iceland, but attendance was low, reflecting how glacier and permafrost loss remain niche topics within broader climate negotiations.
Nepal participated in the High-Level Meeting on Global Impacts of Cryosphere Loss and Paths of Return from Overshoot, organised by Iceland/Ambition on Melting Ice (AMI) high-level group and Tajikistan. Pakistan’s Secretary of Climate Change Aisha Humera, noted that glaciers in the Hindu Kush and Karakoram region are melting rapidly, impacting livelihoods and requiring massive adaptation efforts.
AKM Sohel of the Bangladesh Ministry of Finance drew attention to his country being at risk from record-breaking cyclones, storms, and long-term coastal flooding.
“Achieving the 1.5°C target is essential, and climate finance is necessary to implement adaptation measures nationwide,” Sohel said.
The latest cryosphere assessments further underline the urgency of immediate and deep reductions in greenhouse gas emissions globally. Reports recommend aiming for global temperature targets closer to 1°C to preserve as much of the cryosphere as possible. This requires more ambitious climate action, combined monitoring of cryosphere changes, adapting to impact, and mitigating future damage.
The cryosphere is at a tipping point, and its loss has immediate consequences for water security, livelihoods, infrastructure, and climate justice. Across High Asia, melting glaciers and thawing permafrost threaten communities and those living downstream. 
 
With support from Earth Journalism Network.

How much ice must melt before we act?

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

At the opening plenary of COP30, which stands for the convolutedly named 30th Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), in Belém on Tuesday, Nepal brought up the threats to the Himalayan watershed. Nepal’s delegate Rajendra Prasad Mishra, Secretary at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, also spoke on behalf of Bhutan and Bangladesh after the three countries formally called for tripling grant-based adaptation financing from 2015 levels to at least $120 billion per year by 2030, and to ensure a more simplified, scaled-up access to finance their National Determined Contributions (NDCs) to reduce emissions and adapt to climate impacts. “Bhutan has already graduated from Least Developed Country (LDC) status, while Bangladesh and Nepal are in the process of graduation,” said Mishra. “Graduation reflects development progress, but does not reduce our climate vulnerability nor the scale of support required to safeguard development gains.” The Loss &amp; Damage Fund is also finally coming into effect, so countries can now apply for $5-20 million to make up for damage from climate impact. But claiming damage and linking disasters to climate breakdown has not been an easy process. “When a 200MW hydropower plant is destroyed by a glacial flood, it is a big loss for Nepal’s GDP. Every megawatt costs us $20 million to build,” says energy entrepreneur Kushal Gurung. “Our lobbying should be top-notch, and hydropower can make a good case for us.” Belém marks the tenth anniversary of the Paris Agreement that brought the world together to pledge to keep global average temperature to ‘well below’ 2°C above pre-industrial levels and limit it to 1.5°C.&nbsp; COP has also returned to Brazil after 30 years of the Rio Conference in 1995. Since then there have been numerous summits, which have been criticised for being just hot air and being hosted by fossil-fuel exporting countries like UAE and Uzbekistan. Belém was selected because it is a gateway to the Amazon, but Brazil has now also become a major oil producer after new offshore finds. A recent report shows that compared to 2019, the world is set to reduce its emissions by 12% in 2035 if countries are to implement their Nationally Determined Contributions even though the figure needs to go up to 40% to meet temperature targets. There has been progress. Before the Paris Agreement the world was on a path for 4°C increase during this century, and this has now come down to 2.5°C because of the clean energy transition. But a lot more needs to be done to meet the Paris 1.5°C target. “This progress is proof that multilateralism is working, it is delivering,” Manjeet Dhakal of the Climate Analytics South Asia told us from Belém. “Having said that, it is simply not enough. Emissions need to go down much further, and a lot of it is tied to developed countries providing climate finance to do so.” Many developing countries have adopted ‘conditional NDCs’ which means their emission reduction targets cannot be met without international climate finance. In its third NDC, Nepal set a target of a 17.1% reduction in net greenhouse gas emissions and 26.8% by 2035. But achieving that has a price tag of &nbsp;$73.74 billion, with much of it from international climate finance. UNDERFINANCED However, the climate for climate finance is getting worse. The United States has exited from the Paris Agreement for the second time under President Trump, and there are cutbacks in foreign aid by European funders. Even so, the EU has committed to reducing its emissions by 90% in the next 15 years, 85% of which will be domestic emission cuts. The silver lining in all this is that the leadership in climate action is increasingly being taken by Nepal’s neighbours China and India with both investing heavily in renewable energy. China is the world leader in solar panels, wind turbines and electric vehicles, and Nepal has already taken strategic advantage of this.&nbsp; With expensive hydropower plants increasingly at risk from glacial lake outburst floods, experts say Nepal must diversify its energy mix and invest in solar power which has 10 times more potential than hydropower at 432 gigawatts with over 300 days of sunshine a year. Solar farms can also power pump storage, which are cheaper and quicker to build.&nbsp; China has drastically reduced the cost of photovoltaic cells, making such schemes more feasible. Nepal just needs to ease up its restrictive domestic energy policies, boost investment and resist geopolitical pressure on electricity generation. “First, we need to increase the cap on solar energy from 10% to 30%, and next, the bidding process should be made easier, or just have the first past the post system like that for hydropower,” says Kushal Gurung. The disadvantage of solar power is that it generates only daytime energy, but this can be solved with grid-scale battery storage or pump storage. But first, the government needs to fix the rate for solar purchase so that entrepreneurs are incentivised. “This is not happening because our government officials and engineers are comfortable dealing with hydropower, and are not just updated about the latest advances,” says Gurung. “As a result, we have no clear policies when it comes to solar.” Hydropower has become one of the biggest industries in Nepal with an installed capacity of over 3,400MW and the government’s target is to produce 28,500MW in the next ten years. But the recent climate disasters have made it clear that relying only on hydropower alone is too risky. The Nepal-Tibet glacial flood in July destroyed and damaged four hydropower plants and substations along the Bhote Kosi, and last September’s floods slashed the country’s total generation by half. Nepal now needs to build on the widespread adoption of battery-powered vehicles by extending it to electric public transport and for household appliances like stoves, rice cookers and refrigerators. Not only would this reduce Nepal’s per capita carbon footprint, but it would also reduce the country’s annual Rs300 billion petroleum import bill. At global platforms like UNFCCC, it is easy even for individual developed countries to get lost without an alliance. Now that Nepal is graduating from LDC status, it needs to have strong partners with a common goal to move forward in international negotiations. Says Kushal Gurung: “We won’t have privilege that came with LDC status anymore, which means climate finance will be even more limited. But there are a few things we can urgently do on our own like regulating the carbon credit market.”&nbsp; This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251118101116_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251118101116_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali Times SDG"> </figure>

Global warning bell in Belém

Frontpage topic

The Trump administration’s recent announcement of its <a href="https://www.whitehouse.gov/fact-sheets/2026/01/fact-sheet-president-donald-j-trump-withdraws-the-united-states-from-international-organizations-that-are-contrary-to-the-interests-of-the-united-states/" target="_blank">withdrawal from 66 international organisations</a> has been met with a mixture of alarm and applause. &nbsp;While the headline number suggests a dramatic retreat from the world stage, a closer look reveals a more nuanced, and perhaps more insidious, strategy.&nbsp;
The move is less a wholesale abandonment of the United Nations system and more a targeted pruning of the multilateral vine, aimed at withering specific branches of global cooperation that the administration deems contrary to its interests. While the immediate financial impact may be less than feared, the long-term consequences for the UN and the rules-based international order are profound.
At first glance, the withdrawal appears to be a sweeping rejection of global engagement. <a href="https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2026/01/withdrawing-the-united-states-from-international-organizations-conventions-and-treaties-that-are-contrary-to-the-interests-of-the-united-states/" target="_blank">The list of targeted entities</a> is long and diverse, ranging from the well-known UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) to more obscure bodies like the International Lead and Zinc Study Group. However, as <a href="https://casquebleu.substack.com/p/unpacking-the-results-of-the-review" target="_blank">Eugene Chen</a> has astutely observed, the reality is more complex.
The vast majority of the UN-related entities on the list are not independent international organisations, but rather subsidiary bodies, funds, and programmes of the UN itself. The administration is not, for now, withdrawing from the UN Charter, but rather selectively defunding and disengaging from the parts of the UN system it finds objectionable.
This selective approach reveals a clear ideological agenda. The targeted entities are overwhelmingly focused on issues that the Trump administration has long disdained: climate change, sustainable development, gender equality, and human rights. The list includes the UN’s main development arm, the Department of Economic and Social Affairs; its primary gender entity, UN Women; and a host of bodies dedicated to peacebuilding and conflict prevention.&nbsp;
The inclusion of the UN’s regional economic commissions, which play a vital role in promoting regional cooperation and development, is particularly telling. This is not simply a cost-cutting exercise; it is a deliberate attempt to dismantle the architecture of global cooperation in areas that do not align with the administration’s narrow, nationalist worldview.
The decision to remain a member of the UN’s specialised agencies, such as the World Health Organization (from which the administration has already announced its withdrawal in a separate action) and the International Atomic Energy Agency, is equally revealing. This is not a sign of a renewed commitment to multilateralism, but rather a cold, calculated decision based on a narrow definition of US national security interests.&nbsp;
The administration has made it clear that it sees these agencies as useful tools to counter the influence of a rising China. This ‘à la carte’ approach to multilateralism, where the US picks and chooses which parts of the system to support based on its own geopolitical interests, is deeply corrosive to the principles of collective security and universal values that underpin the UN Charter.
What, then, should be done? The international community cannot afford to simply stand by and watch as the UN system is hollowed out from within. A concerted effort is needed to mitigate the damage and reaffirm the importance of multilateral cooperation.
First, other member states must step up to fill the financial and leadership void left by the United States. This will require not only increased financial contributions, but also a renewed political commitment to the UN’s work in the areas of sustainable development, climate action, and human rights.&nbsp;
Second, civil society organisations and the academic community have a crucial role to play in monitoring the impact of the US withdrawal and advocating for the continued relevance of the affected UN entities.&nbsp;
Finally, the UN itself must do a better job of communicating its value to a sceptical public. The organisation must move beyond bureaucratic jargon and technical reports to tell a compelling story about how its work makes a real difference in the lives of people around the world.
The Trump administration’s latest move is a stark reminder that the post-war international order can no longer be taken for granted. It is a call to action for all who believe in the power of multilateralism to address our shared global challenges. The UN may be a flawed and imperfect institution, but it remains our best hope for a more peaceful, prosperous, and sustainable world. We must not allow it to wither on the vine.
Jordan Ryan is at the Toda Peace Institute and a former UN Assistant Secretary-General with extensive experience in international peacebuilding, human rights, and development policy.&nbsp;
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and has been republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2026/the-uns-withering-vine-a-us-retreat-from-global-governance.html">the original</a> with permission.

The UN’s withering vine

Despite funding setbacks, Nepal’s public health sector keeps developing new initiatives to strengthen maternal and newborn health. Two in particular, aimed at improving maternal nutrition and safe delivery, are in the pipeline for 2026.
The first initiative is multiple micronutrient supplementation (MMS) for pregnant women. The MMS will replace the iron and folic acid (IFA) supplements that the government now provides with 15 essential vitamins and minerals, including IFA.
The second plan is to do field research on the use of carbetocin as a drug to prevent post-partum haemmorhage (PPH). This is important because carbetocin is not as heat-sensitive as oxytocin, the current main option for treating PPH. In fact, the new medicine is known as heat-sensitive carbetocin (HSC).
The study is scheduled to start early in the new year. It will be a collaboration between One Heart Worldwide, Ferring Pharmaceuticals and the family welfare division (FWD) of the Department of Health.
A recent study in Nigeria found that health-care providers preferred giving HSC to women delivering babies because it had fewer side-effects and was of higher quality than oxytocin, which was often reported to be degraded by heat or supply-chain issues. The same issues are also barriers in Nepal.
PPH has for decades been one of the leading causes of maternal deaths, in Nepal and globally.
“We are confident that transitioning from IFA to MMS will enable expectant mothers to receive a more comprehensive suite of micronutrients, leading to improved pregnancy outcomes,” says Pooja Pandey Rana, Country Director of Helen Keller International for Bangladesh and Nepal.
The MMS plan is a collaboration between the FWD, the NGO Helen Keller International, Eleanor Crook Foundation, a US-based organisation that funds nutrition work globally, and other development partners.
According to Lili Bikram Thapa, Chief Nutrition Officer at the FWD, they are now preparing a road map for the rolling out of MMS once an assessment is finalised. Meanwhile, Indra Dhoj Kshetri of Helen Keller International said that his organisation is providing technical support to develop the road map.&nbsp;
“We hope that the government will gradually roll out MMS in a few provinces towards the end of this fiscal year July 2026,” said Kshetri, Officer, Africa and Asia Content Marketing, at the organisation.
He added that the partners are now researching possible “issues and bottlenecks” about switching to MMS as well as acceptance of the new supplements by pregnant women. Findings of both analyses are expected in January 2026.
MONEY MATTERS
Another current task, said Kshetri, is trying to get MMS added to Nepal’s essential medicine list (EML). That would reduce its cost. Today, MMS is imported as a food supplement and subject to 30% customs duty. But once on the EML, that duty would drop to about 5%, making it easier on the wallets of development partners and — if the government eventually takes over the programme as planned — on the public purse.
Of course, getting it on the list does not guarantee its availability. As many previous reports have pointed out, including a recent article in NepalNews, local governments have had a hard time keeping all medicines in stock. This would of course also apply to HSC if it is approved for use.
Earlier this year a Micronutrient Survey planned for 2025 was cancelled after USAID shut down.&nbsp;
When asked if it was a good idea to go ahead with MMS if they didn’t know the current state of micronutrients in Nepali diets, Pooja Pandey Rana of Helen Keller International said that while a micronutrient survey would have added useful insights, it is unlikely to have a significant impact on the government’s planned transition to MMS.&nbsp;
“There’s already a body of evidence from the Nepal Demographic and Health Survey and past micronutrient surveys that Nepali women have high levels of micronutrient deficiencies and undernutrition,” she added.
“Prior research consistently shows that MMS leads to better pregnancy outcomes compared to IFA alone. A large body of global evidence reinforces these findings. And therefore, WHO has recommended to include MMS in the antenatal care package. We are confident that transitioning from IFA to MMS will enable expectant mothers to receive a more comprehensive suite of micronutrients, leading to improved pregnancy outcomes.”
The plan is to start rolling out MMS in one province by July 2026.&nbsp;

Safe delivery in 2026

Nepal’s 2022 elections, its second under the federal system, was marked by the disruption in Nepal’s political status quo. Two figures stood out in particular: Balen Shah, whose outsider candidacy transformed urban political imagination, and the Rastriya Swatantra Party under Rabi Lamichhane, which leveraged his extensive media-built credibility to secure unexpected influence within months of its formation.&nbsp;
Their success was not an ideological victory, it was the victory of leaders who presented a vision of leadership that was different from Nepal’s political norm. It was the result of sophisticated public relations, effective message dissemination, and the careful cultivation of the credibility of these forces.&nbsp;
Last week, these once-separate trajectories formally converged as Shah and Lamichhane first joined forces, and within twenty-four hours their alliance expanded further with Kulman Ghising’s Ujjyalo Party. Ghising, who was appointed Minister in Nepal’s post-September interim Cabinet largely due to his public goodwill, has been another public figure whose reputation has been built as much through performance as through perception.&nbsp;
Together, Balen-Rabi-Kulman (BRK) now present themselves as an alternative front to the entrenched Oli–Prachanda–Deuba(OPD) power centre. But as this emerging bloc positions itself as a corrective option to “old politics”, the first substantive glimpse into its internal political behaviour raises important questions. The alliance’s Proportional Representation (PR) list provides an early indicator of priorities.&nbsp;
“The PR list of RSP showcases the utter disrespect for the constitution,” says Shailee Chaudhary, a PR candidate from Gatisheel Loktantrik Party. “It reveals that RSP at its core is an opportunistic clique instead of a political party. For them the PR list became a corporate takeover for their investors and brand ambassadors.”&nbsp;
Prospective candidates were reportedly required to pay Rs50,000 to have their names included, and the resulting roster reads less like a reflection of Nepal’s diverse social fabric and more like an inventory of recognised public figures.&nbsp;
The party’s explanation for the Rs50,000 fee requirement was that it has been raised to ensure that candidates are well off enough to not engage in corruption. But Mangpahang says this defense implies that corruption is exclusive to the poor.&nbsp;
“The PR system of RSP has been captured by elites,” says Yajaswi Mangpahang, President of Youth Congress Nepal. “The fact that one had to be affluent to be considered in the list is exclusionary.”
Mangpahang compares the PR selection process of the RSP to the Nepali Congress. The NC has exploited the PR list, she says, but the party has at the least understood the essence of the system, and why it exists.
“Nepal’s diversity, its socio-economic and political history, as well as where we are now must be understood by politicians,” she adds.&nbsp;
POLITICS OR POPULARITY CONTEST?
Actors, singers, pageant winners to business personalities and athletes in RSP’s PR list have positioned themselves as representatives of marginalised communities from dalit, adhiwasi janajati, and khas-arya communities. Notable names include: singer Prakash Saput (Dalit), actress Reema Bishwokarma (Dalit Woman), former Miss Nepal Anushka Shrestha (Adhivasi Woman), executive director of Goldstar shoes Vidhusi Rana (Khas-Arya Woman) and the once formidable contender for KMC mayoral race, Ranju Darshana (Khas Arya-Woman).&nbsp;
“The legal benchmarks of the representations are met but there is no clarity of principle in the list,” says Mangpahang.
Rather than reimagining representation, RSP’s PR list appears to extend the same reliance on visibility and public appeal that has driven the BRK’s rise so far. Reducing politics to communication tactics and profile-building not only trivialises governance, it fundamentally distorts the purpose of the proportional representation system, which was designed to broaden inclusion, not as a stage to curate and amplify personalities with pre-existing social capital.&nbsp;
“The inclusion of already established figures in the PR list meant for marginalised communities is evidence of intellectual and moral poverty,” says Chaudhary. “It signals that their approach is 100% about marketing and 0% about representation. They are not building a party, they are merging fan clubs, they confuse social media trends with grassroots movements and celebrity recognition with democratic legitimacy.”
Indeed, this strategy is akin to the dynamics of social media, where visibility translates directly into political currency. Shah’s politics has been inseparable from his online persona, carefully crafted through bold declarations, poetic nationalism, and viral digital performance. Lamichhane’s rise, meanwhile, is rooted in years of television-driven credibility, now amplified through algorithmic circulation that rewards outrage, emotional immediacy, and charismatic confrontation over deliberative politics.&nbsp;
The BRK project exemplifies how Nepali politics is increasingly being shaped by algorithmic culture. Platforms such as Facebook, TikTok, and YouTube don’t simply reflect political sentiment; they actively shape it by privileging sensationalism, conflict, and personality-driven storytelling. Their political momentum is therefore less a reflection of ideological consolidation and more a product of digital mobilisation, where “followers” begin to substitute party structures, and engagement metrics are mistaken for mass legitimacy.&nbsp;
In such an ecosystem, leaders who can command attention are rewarded more than those who can articulate policy. Indeed, political power in Nepal is increasingly determined by who commands the loudest applause, especially online. This risks reducing democracy to an algorithmic popularity contest: noisy and charismatic, but ultimately no different from the legacy political figures, just with a new facade.&nbsp;
“In the long run this subverts the constitution rendering its core components meaningless. It kills the spirit of inclusive democracy, it also erases marginalised voices, pushing the voices of women, Dalit, adivasi janajati and other marginalised groups and reduces politics to a spectator sport,” adds Chaudhary. “It teaches voters that politics is about cheering for individual heroes, not about advocating for communities or ideologies.”
Political legitimacy online may appear like that people and the leader are interacting, directly in touch with one another, but to pursue popularity over policy-driven politics is to avoid facing the public. What the RSP has done now is to make a safety valve for elites so that they do not actively interact with the people.&nbsp;
“To run an election is to have guts, you must have an understanding of your constituency, you must have a vision, and it is a gamble,” says Mangpahang.&nbsp;
When political legitimacy becomes increasingly tethered to personal popularity and digital visibility, it risks sidelining individuals who possess competence, policy expertise, and grassroots understanding, because they lack comparable social capital.&nbsp;
If the system rewards recognition over representation, leadership opportunities go to those embedded in media and celebrity ecosystems. This could consolidate power and perpetuate the marginalisation of communities who are structurally disenfranchised from politics.
Ayusha Chalise is a communication and development scholar specialising in how politics is experienced in the digital space.

RSP’s PR list is not good PR

As the Global North turns inward, foreign aid has become an easy target. The decimation of the US Agency for International Development (USAID) has dominated headlines, but the UK and many Europeans have also cut foreign-aid budgets.&nbsp;
Policymakers in these countries view this spending as a form of charity, and think that bolstering their economic and military might can deliver more benefits for more people.
This is short-sighted. It recalls the great-power ambitions of the 19th and early 20th centuries that culminated in two world wars. The global governance architecture that emerged from this unprecedented tragedy initially focused on responding to reconstruction and humanitarian needs, before turning to development.&nbsp;
Despite its flaws, this approach helped lift more than one billion people out of extreme poverty and build stable and thriving economies around the world.
The global health system built with funding from the US, the UK, and others &nbsp;reduced infectious disease rates and health inequalities, creating a safer and more secure world. Five years ago, this system was instrumental in detecting Covid-19, tracking its spread, and mobilising a global response.
But Covid-19 also illustrated how poorer countries and households are caught in an inequality-pandemic cycle. Contrary to claims that the Global North gives too much aid and receives too little in return, it is the Global South that is getting the bad deal.&nbsp;
After compiling and analysing hundreds of peer-reviewed studies, the Global Council on Inequality, AIDS and Pandemics found that poor and marginalised people struggle to access health services during disease outbreaks, leaving them more susceptible to infection, illness, and death. Viruses and other contagions prey on these vulnerabilities, turning outbreaks into epidemics, and epidemics into pandemics, which deepen inequalities and reinforce the cycle.
In the early days of Covid-19, this inequality-pandemic cycle was on display in Global North countries. White-collar professionals worked safely from home, thanks to high-speed internet and teleconferencing platforms, whereas small businesses and factories closed, throwing blue-collar workers into financial crisis. In these countries, the pandemic hit low-income and minority communities the hardest.
The unequal impact of the pandemic was also felt between countries. Vaccines were developed in record time – the result of a remarkable multilateral investment in strategic industries – but high-income countries purchased most of them, and then refused to share excess doses with the developing world. This vaccine hoarding caused more than one million deaths and cost the global economy an estimated $2.3 trillion.
The same pattern played out in the early response to the AIDS pandemic. At the end of the 20th century, effective antiretroviral drugs became available in the Global North. But AIDS continued to kill hundreds of thousands of people in the Global South, and especially in Sub-Saharan Africa.&nbsp;
In 2002, fewer than one million people living with HIV had access to antiretrovirals, whereas more than 30 million do today, expanding access to treatment has so far saved an estimated 26 million lives. And, before the recent foreign-aid cuts, the world could have achieved its goal of ending AIDS as a public health threat by 2030.
The decades-long journey to end AIDS has underscored the importance of investing in health systems, medical research, and vaccine and drug production. It has highlighted that people’s living conditions determine their well-being.
GOING VIRAL
In 1996, Botswana, which was hit particularly hard by the AIDS pandemic, effectively added a year of secondary school to its public education system. This created a natural, population-level experiment on the effect of schooling on the risk of HIV infection.&nbsp;
An analysis of huge cohorts of young people who went to school under the old system and the new system found that each additional year of schooling reduced a young person’s risk of HIV infection by 8.1%. This protective effect was strongest among women, whose risk of contracting HIV decreased by 11.6% for each additional year of school.
Building fairer societies leads to healthier populations that are better prepared to react to disease outbreaks and prevent pandemics. By contrast, defunding public education, slashing social safety nets, imposing tariffs, closing borders, cutting foreign aid, and disengaging from multilateral cooperation will widen inequalities, fuel political instability, accelerate economic migration, and create the conditions for viruses to thrive.
This is evident in Ukraine, where an over-burdened health-care system has accelerated the spread of drug-resistant infections through war-torn communities. Meanwhile, outbreaks of Ebola, mpox, measles, and Marburg are on the rise, partly owing to globalisation and climate change.&nbsp;
Weakening the global health system will enable these outbreaks to fester and spread, taking lives, deepening inequalities, and destabilising societies. Experts are already warning that cuts to US programs (including those delivered by USAID) could lead to a 400% increase in AIDS deaths by 2029.
The abiding lesson of pandemics is that no one is safe until everyone is safe. Building walls and shutting out the world will not protect people. The only way to do that is by reducing inequalities and investing in the global health. Cooperation is the ultimate act of self-interest. &nbsp;© Project Syndicate
Winnie Byanyima is Executive Director of UNAIDS and an under-secretary-general at the United Nations. Michael Marmot is Director of the Institute of Health Equity and Professor of Epidemiology at University College London.

Protectionism will not protect against pandemics

Nepal has made dramatic progress in expanding health services, yet millions of people still do not fully benefit from their Constitution-ensured right to basic medical service. Many of those deprived of accessible and affordable healthcare are in remote far-flung areas of the country, but increasingly they are also among the urban poor who have migrated to the cities and live in the margins. In both areas there are gaps in service quality, health workforce availability, and governance capacity. Out of pocket expenses for medical treatment of a family member can push families into absolute poverty and debt. The 2025 WHO–World Bank Global Monitoring Report on Universal Health Coverage underlines this challenge -- financial hardship from health spending remains a major barrier to equity, even where medical coverage has improved. In Nepal, rising demand for better and more affordable healthcare and workforce shortages due to outmigration of medical personnel and other factors mean that the government is unable to bridge these gaps through public provision alone. Well-governed and accountable public-private partnerships (PPPs) aligned with national priorities offer <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Crowding-it-out,1003" target="_blank">a practical pathway from policy commitment to real-world impact</a>. The experience of the non-profit Nyaya Health Nepal (NHN) in partnership with the Sudurpaschim Province is an example of where this has worked well. Through <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/altruistic-healthcare-models-in-nepal" target="_blank">public ownership and non-profit management</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJzWlnYd0ZM&amp;t=17s" target="_blank">Bayalpata Hospital</a> in Achham and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/unique-hospital-handover-in-dolakha" target="_blank">Charikot Hospital in Dolakha</a> strengthened service delivery, supply chains, health workforce management, and digital health systems, while keeping all services free at the point of care.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251231101244_b59dabd4604a24426a55fe91c0e5866b5029858bdb4c4028c331557aeb5408ae.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251231101244_b59dabd4604a24426a55fe91c0e5866b5029858bdb4c4028c331557aeb5408ae" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Bayalpata"> <figcaption>Bayalpata hospital in Achham.</figcaption> </figure>  NHN managed Charikot from 2016-2020 and handed it over to Bagmati Province, and Bayalpata was handed over to Sudurpachim after 17 years in August 2025. These partnerships reduced out-of-pocket spending, improved trust in public facilities, and directly addressed financial concerns of citizens. The WHO–World Bank Global Monitoring Report emphasised that universal health coverage requires strengthening primary health care, providing free services at the point of care, and protecting families from financial hardship. Public–nonprofit partnerships like NHN and others in Nepal provide a model to directly address these challenges. By improving access to quality care, supporting local health workers, and keeping services free, these partnerships help reduce health costs for families, build trust in local health facilities, and narrow the gap between rural and urban health services, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJdxLD0hBqo&amp;t=3s" target="_blank">turning </a><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJdxLD0hBqo&amp;t=3s" target="_blank">policy commitments into real improvements for communities.</a> The experience of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/state-of-the-art-rural-hospital" target="_blank">Bayalpata and Charikot hospitals</a> show that effective PPPs are governance-driven, not market-led. Clear agreements, transparent data sharing, performance-based management, and strong government oversight guaranteed that public institutions were strengthened rather than sidelined. Bayalpata and Charikot successfully transitioned leadership and full management to Sudurpaschim and Bagmati provincial governments, proving that public-private partnerships can build lasting government capacity, not dependency.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251231101244_a8821faa2059498bbd3318386a1bea25b7cfe7a36600c2e2ce250e97caed51e8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251231101244_a8821faa2059498bbd3318386a1bea25b7cfe7a36600c2e2ce250e97caed51e8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1570" height="940" loading="lazy" alt="Charikot hospital"> <figcaption>Charikot hospital in Dolakha.</figcaption> </figure>  This model combined facility-level operational flexibility with public stewardship, and tackled long-standing weaknesses in Nepal’s health system, from workforce retention to evidence-based decision-making. Scaling such models through a national, gap-focused partnership framework is now an urgent opportunity. Replicating Bayalpata model partnerships in selected hospitals and primary health care centers could rapidly advance the three pillars of universal healthcare: equitable access, quality services, and financial risk protection. Institutionalising public-private partnerships within the Ministry of Health and Population and &nbsp;linking it to national health insurance reforms could help fulfil the promise of Article 35 of the Constitution guaranteeing basic healthcare to all citizens. For development partners and donors, this could represent a high-impact, evidence-informed investment aligned with the WHO–World Bank call to reduce financial hardship while strengthening healthcare systems. If Nepal is serious about leaving no one behind, strategic public–non-profit partnerships must move from the margins to the mainstream of health system reform. By <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/is-free-health-care-possible-in-nepal" target="_blank">scaling the NHN model</a> at Bayalpata and Charikot nationwide, Nepal can build a resilient, equitable health system where every community regardless of location or income has access to quality care, financial protection, and the opportunity to succeed. Investing in well-governed PPP models is not only essential to protect the health of the Nepali people but also to safeguard the country’s economic stability and long-term resilience. &nbsp; Srijana Devkota is Director of Program and Partnerships at <a href="https://nyayahealthnepal.org/" target="_blank">Nyaya Health Nepal</a> (NHN). <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJdxLD0hBqo&amp;t=3s" target="_blank">Watch a video of Bayalpata Hospital.</a> <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xJdxLD0hBqo?si=_gSoClqwmI-ecSxh" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

A healthier, wealthier Nepal

After the 2008 Constituent Assembly election and the 2015 Constitution, scholars and civil society alike believed the country was on the path to lasting change.&nbsp;
Despite early optimism, democracy remains fragile and falling short of the expectations of citizens. A corrupt elite dominates the political landscape while young citizens grow disillusioned to the point of taking to the streets or staging a mass exodus.
The GenZ movement toppled the government and fresh elections are on the horizon, with that there is another promise of a ‘New Nepal’. Young people previously uninterested in state affairs are now alert and demand a voice. Promising new parties are emerging.&nbsp;
This political awakening should prompt reflection on where we went wrong and how to do better. One striking feature undermining Nepal’s democracy over the past three decades was the <a href="https://www.pressreader.com/india/the-hindu-bangalore-9WW1/20240718/281479281648573" target="_blank">sheer number of coalition</a> governments in such a short time.&nbsp;
Nepal has had 14 prime ministers in 16 years. Each of them served an average of just a little over a year. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/s0007123417000539" target="_blank">Coalitions are not inherently bad for a democracy</a>. In fact, coalitions can help bring in diversity of values, voices, and participation in Parliament.&nbsp;
However, chronic and unpredictable coalition patterns undermine and destabilise democracy. Nepal’s fragile coalition governments degenerated into unholy alliances and horse trading between ideologically divergent and previously rival groups.&nbsp;
When one coalition collapsed, the cycle repeated, leaving little room for long-term vision or consistent governance. The result? Corruption, endless infighting, stalled progress, and a nation stuck in political limbo.
This observation is not new, but the blame is misdirected. Some suggest a different electoral system entirely, but instead of scrapping the entire structure and building a new one from scratch, why not examine what went wrong within the systems we already have and fix those?&nbsp;
The coalition problem is not a result of the electoral system but of the party system. While political parties are the medium through which representation and mass participation occur, a party system is the entire network of how they interact, compete, and cooperate within a country’s political landscape.&nbsp;
It is not just one party that is the bad apple, the entire basket is creating conditions for the apples to rot.&nbsp;
The party system is weakly institutionalised. Nepal struggles with unpredictable electoral competition, widespread public distrust in political parties, fragmented internal party structures, and shallow societal embeddedness.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.academia.edu/59719587/Party_System_Institutionalization_Party_Collapse_and_Party_Building" target="_blank">Party System Institutionalisation</a> should create a structured, programmatic competition, but in Nepal the political environment is dominated by elite-level bargaining and opportunistic alliances. Parties form and break coalitions not out of principle, but convenience. Power, not policy, becomes the goal.
This fragility did not emerge overnight. Nepal’s history of a turbulent democracy led to the creation of a necessity- and survival-driven party system.Political parties were born in precarious circumstances, emerging in secrecy, exile, or in response to survival imperatives, rather than organic political development.&nbsp;
The absolute monarchy was always a looming threat, and it worked to prevent the institutionalisation of party structures, even after 1990. As a result, coalition reshuffling became a reactionary survival strategy, reinforcing patterns of short-termism and deepening the perception of parties as opportunistic rather than principled actors.&nbsp;
Over the years, this cycle has hollowed out the substantive meaning of electoral competition: while parties compete and governments change, the underlying political dynamics remain stagnant, offering few real alternatives and fostering a culture of fickle and fragile coalitions.
Building a resilient democracy would require returning to the basics to &nbsp;strengthen the foundations of our party system. Political parties need to look inward and invest in their own institutional development.&nbsp;
That means promoting internal democracy through leadership term limits and transparent succession processes, building clearer ideological platforms that speak to citizens’ real concerns, and forging deeper and more consistent connections with society that go beyond election season or clientelistic outreach.&nbsp;
What Nepal’s parties need is not another rebranding campaign or a protest, but a fundamental reassessment of their purpose, vision, and social relevance.&nbsp;
These lessons are especially important for new political parties hoping to present themselves as genuine alternatives to the status quo. Real change will not come from winning seats alone, it will come from the hard, sustained work of building strong institutions and earning public confidence.&nbsp;
If we once again have hung parliaments, parties will need to build alliances grounded not in self-serving negotiations but in shared policy visions and ideological goals. Without such reforms, Nepal will remain trapped in the same cycle of coalition instability that has long undermined its promise of stable governance and a thriving democracy.
Suvexa Pradhan Tuladhar is an Early Career Policy Research Fellow at Nepal Institute for Policy Research (NIPoRe). She recently graduated from Lake Forest College, IL, USA, with a B.A. (Hons). She double-majored in International Relations and Sociology &amp; Anthropology and minored in Urban Studies.

Nepal’s party problem

NT #1291

Bhairav is the fierce manifestation of Lord Shiva, and his strength is depicted in a fearsome face but he is also a protector and guardian. There are eight forms of Bhairav in Kathmandu, and they are all featured in Mukesh Shrestha’s exhibition Bhairav Bhav at Gallery 108 in Darbar Marg. The artist was moved to contemplate the violent September protests through this series of paintings.&nbsp; “The GenZ protests exposed the greedy and aggressive side of leaders in which many young Nepalis lost their lives. Bhairav teaches people that forms of aggression and peace can go hand in hand, and peace can be chosen,” Shrestha explains. The artworks on display have a distinct palette of yellow, black and white, symbolising peace even during turbulent times. “Yellow is an auspicious colour for Hindus and Buddhists, it also has religious significance,” he says. Each painting is imbued by the black walls of the gallery and spotlight with warm lights. Says gallery manager Pooja Mahato, “The backdrop is black deliberately so that the visitors’ focus goes more to the artwork and less on the surrounding.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012008018_ac2e3090a926cb57fca481d580d1c087b43d392299e2d99231a6044a05696964.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026012008018_ac2e3090a926cb57fca481d580d1c087b43d392299e2d99231a6044a05696964" data-rendition-name="original" width="2784" height="3984" loading="lazy" alt="Bhairav art review"> </figure>  Each of the paintings depicts Bhairav’s face in the real form but the bodies are imagined by the artist. This distinction is also made by the use of colours on the face while the body is conspicuously black and white. As Bhairav is one of Lord Shiva’s forms, serpents are an essential part of the portraits. The pieces on Kal Bhairav of Kathmandu Darbar Square and Bagh Bhairav of Kirtipur ooze power from every angle. Kal Bhairav is the Lord of time, and the Bagh Bhairav represents the ferocity of the tiger. Meanwhile, Unmatta Bhairav, also known as Digambar sacrificed the greed for life and is depicted naked. Couples who do not have children are blessed with offspring if they worship this Bhairav avatar. Then there is Batuk Bhairav, the childish god with a happy face. The blue here creates a vibrant, ritualistic visage even as it emotes calmness. “It is believed that Bhairav came in this child-like form to fool the demons to destroy them, and is represented through small hands and feet,” explains Mahato.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012008018_e1f25fe3e0d9431df47cd8f76182649e969d511298c17c0c92179475e8008809.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026012008018_e1f25fe3e0d9431df47cd8f76182649e969d511298c17c0c92179475e8008809" data-rendition-name="original" width="2120" height="3728" loading="lazy" alt="Bhairav art review"> </figure>  Shweta Bhairav's face is also depicted exactly the same as it is in Kathmandu Darbar Square. Its body includes the feet of Bhramayani Devi, one of the forms of Nava Durga. It is believed that this form of Bhairav is granted entry in Kathmandu only after the welcome of Bhramayani Devi.&nbsp; Shweta Bhairav was wrongly identified as the Akash Bhairav when it was chosen as the motif for Royal Nepal Airlines 60 years ago. Despite this, the carrier’s aircraft still carry the wrong Bhairav on their fuselage. Shanta Bhairav, meanwhile, entered Kathmandu Valley in the form of a human to meet his beloved, Lassi. After agreeing to take the role of the protector for children as many were lost, he was allowed to live in the Valley.&nbsp; The paintings also represent peace and tranquility: lotus flowers emerging from the heads of a male and female body, and military tanks below them. Says Mukesh Shrestha, “Each artwork is a journey from ignorance to knowledge. Whatever we think, we become. If we think of peace, we become peaceful, but if we think of destruction, we become destructive.” Bhairav Bhav By Mukesh Shrestha Gallery 108, Darbar Marg Until 31 January 11am-7pm (Mondays by appointment)

The power of peace

The India Art Fair (IAF) advertises itself as ‘the biggest event in India’s cultural calendar … a leading platform’ for art collectors who can discover modern and contemporary art from South Asia.&nbsp; For this year’s ticketed event on 5-8 February in New Delhi, more than 133 exhibitors from 14 countries will be representing top artists from their networks. Danfe Arts, a touring art space from Kathmandu, will participate in the Galleries Section of IAF’s 17th edition featuring a booth with works by six Nepali artists.&nbsp; One of them is Sanjeep Maharjan, Assistant Professor for Sculpture at Kathmandu University, who will showcase his claywork as part of Danfe Arts’ entourage. In 2024, Maharjan curated a show for Danfe Arts at Takpa Gallery titled, ‘Unfolding the City’. The IAF prefers to showcase skilled artists who have honed their practice over many years. Much like various biennales and residencies that have been popping up increasingly in Asia, the Fair delves into sociopolitical issues of the region such as many comissioned works including <a href="https://indiaartfair.in/exhibitor/yogesh-barve-supported-by-art-charlie" target="_blank">Yogesh Barve</a>’s installation entitled ‘I am not your Dalit’ featured at the feastival last year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260115110136_13f262546fca46c0fe4d76f758a694afe7c0c1cfee5bf74eb4f257f78734f8f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260115110136_13f262546fca46c0fe4d76f758a694afe7c0c1cfee5bf74eb4f257f78734f8f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="989" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artists at India Art Fair"> <figcaption>Anil Shahi's Hand of Hope, Oil on Canvas, 36 x 60 inches. Exhibiting work at IAF.</figcaption> </figure>  As the name implies, it is a grand bazaar where artists and their agents show up, to be seen — a powerful regional platform where creativity merges with commercial interests. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Artists have a reputation for being weak at business.&nbsp; And in Kathmandu, where the contemporary art scene has been steadily expanding since the early aughts, more and more creatives are seeking platforms like IAF and collaborators like Danfe Arts in order to boost their portfolios. A NEW COURSE In 2022, I was invited to participate in a formal group discussion by founder of and curator at Danfe Arts Shivangi Bansal who was preparing to chart a new course with her Danfe Journal. The journal included photos of artworks as well as writings about art and helped bridge the gap between art and the Nepali public’s understanding of associated processes. Contemporary art and literature is considered a niche activity. Proper marketing and outreach is required to make the product accessible to the average consumer. Besides, consistency can also be an issue. Too often, energetic graduates might register organisations and launch initiatives only to burn out within a year or so. Nepali society would benefit more from a sustained effort with a long-term vision rather than trendy initiatives that look bright and shiny. Danfe Arts discontinued the journal but continued to engage with Nepal’s art community, like facilitating a commission for Mini Tamang by the India Art Fair (IAF) in 2025, as part of IAF’s Young Collector’s Program. Tamang’s artwork, ‘Evocative Waves’, was installed at New Delhi’s Stir Art gallery last year. In 2024, Danfe Arts had organised a group exhibition called ‘A Lake That Once Was’ in New Delhi’s Bikaner House to coincide with the India Art Fair, which listed the exhibition as part of its parallel programs. This meant the Nepali artists received more visibility and value among IAF’s much larger audience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011804014_2a15d57a63c375503965a41396b22c006152368a018450d2617f4c8c076ccc74.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026011804014_2a15d57a63c375503965a41396b22c006152368a018450d2617f4c8c076ccc74" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="arts"> <figcaption>A Lake That Once Was, 2024 at Bikaner House, Delhi.</figcaption> </figure>  Since its inception, Danfe Arts has put out an eclectic mix of programs, demonstrating innovative thinking and effort. With its multi-platform approach, Danfe Arts has collaborated with restaurants like Mezze, putting up an exhibition in November 2025, ‘Bhoye - The Feast’. Danfe Arts is also cultivating relationships with specific artists based on synergies and sensibilities.&nbsp; The history of art practice in Nepal is long and illustrious, but due to political and geographical constraints, esteemed artists have been sheltered and confined within our national borders.&nbsp; By featuring these six artists for the 2026 edition of IAF, Danfe Arts is helping them make regional connections. And as our artists and gallerists show up on global platforms, they might in turn compel Nepalis to view more critically the value of art and how creative practices can contribute positively to society. As technology takes over and AI bots spam the Internet, the issue of originality might become tantamount to survival. We should take risks in our professional pursuits in order to design new communal models of exchange. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; India Art Fair New Delhi 5-8 February&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011804014_f226a31af8a33f8da5e7359886289de3fd1b2db17697b96b909404e582d75124.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026011804014_f226a31af8a33f8da5e7359886289de3fd1b2db17697b96b909404e582d75124" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1875" loading="lazy" alt="arts"> </figure>

Nepali artists at India Art Fair

At Budhanilkantha School Ujwal Thapa was a few years my senior. He was a quiet person who kept to himself; I didn’t know him very well despite being related to him because of that introversion and natural shyness. What we did have in common, coming of age in the 1990s, is our generation, GenX, which became weary, inured for the most part, to Nepal’s famously unstable politics.&nbsp; Counting the events of this past September, GenX has, astonishingly, lived through three people’s revolutions, one armed conflict, a flawed but hard won constitution, and a major earthquake. Ujwal Thapa, one of Nepal’s most cherished Gen Xers, despite his previous, youthful reticence, did not long remain a complaisant bystander against the backdrop of these extreme upheavals.&nbsp; By the mid 2000s he had become deeply political, but without the equivocation that so often accompanies politics. Thanks to his lived experience, he came to believe that the youth of Nepal are the key to our future. He believed in discerning wisdom (bibeksheelta), innovation, and nurture. He inspired entire generations, young and old, including GenZ, before his untimely death due to Covid in 2021. He was only 44.&nbsp; By the time of his passing he had started a tech company, and employed and mentored scores of youth. It is important to note that only after he had made a significant contribution to civil society did he turn towards politics, founding and then stepping back from the Bibeksheel Nepali party, which has now, after several complicated mergers and splits, been integrated into the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP). When the Ujwal Thapa Foundation set out to make a documentary on his life three years ago, no one could have known that it would premiere at such a crucial point in Nepal’s social and political history.&nbsp; Everything that Ujwal Thapa believed in still holds true. I think he would have been proud to see the youth of our country, GenZ, stand up for themselves, peacefully. He would have been grieved at the state condoned bloodshed, and, believing in non-violent protest himself, been deeply shocked by the savage revolution that followed.&nbsp; Most of all, I wonder how he would have reacted to the publishing of the blatantly elitist RSP proportional representation list - the party that many had pinned their hopes on, and that Bibeksheel Nepali has ultimately been absorbed into. That party now seems like it may be a chip off the rotten old block, ruled by men endorsing rampant nepotism, and outnumbered by people without scruples.&nbsp; Many of the names on the list and the rankings, in particular, disrespect the very spirit of a provision that was created for those competent individuals who would not otherwise be able to contest elections, due to lack of monetary and social capital, but whose marginalised voices are vital for inclusive policy making. There is still time for real inclusion, to embrace a more bibeksheel path, before the March elections.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa’s own, firm, ethical stances are clear in the The Man Who Shook Our Minds, translated loosely from the Nepali title Dimaag Ghhochne Manchhe. While long, at almost two hours, it is filled with thought-provoking and sage counsel. The film also offers very real insight into how Ujwal Thapa evolved into the icon he is today.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011111018_eb596eb063dcaf0f67840bfa4ffa39eb27df2bf9ec1a3f9a1f531824c1b7a569.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026011111018_eb596eb063dcaf0f67840bfa4ffa39eb27df2bf9ec1a3f9a1f531824c1b7a569" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="670" loading="lazy" alt="Ujwal Thapa"> <figcaption>Stills from the documentary.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011111018_65d9625d3a4865ca228425b7ce7b7b186ae5009313bbfab0ee65eada276aebd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026011111018_65d9625d3a4865ca228425b7ce7b7b186ae5009313bbfab0ee65eada276aebd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="670" loading="lazy" alt="Ujwal Thapa"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011111018_2ff455c55722d153cafbd2d650e19584e38d7c098b109271bd106a55201f4fa0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026011111018_2ff455c55722d153cafbd2d650e19584e38d7c098b109271bd106a55201f4fa0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="670" loading="lazy" alt="Ujwal Thapa"> </figure>  It isn’t easy making a documentary after the passing of the primary subject. While there are many talking heads, the people featured, friends, family, fellow activists and senior politicians are all eloquent in their descriptions of Ujwal Thapa and his transformation from an engaged, civic minded entrepreneur into a committed political leader who among many other commendable things, believed in putting women first, and understood the crucial necessity for a welfare state that would serve its people. The main man is not deified, he is humanised.&nbsp; The feature is punctuated, and leavened, with moments of real humour as his infamous bluntness and occasional domestic haplessness are gently exposed. Another strength of the film is the profound love story between Ujwal Thapa and his brave, brilliant, incredibly resilient wife, Erica Adhikary, the heroine to a real life hero, and a major force behind the making of this film, alongside many of his stalwart wellwishers and friends, old and new.&nbsp; Sushila Karki, the Prime Minister, was present at the premiere of the film with members of her Cabinet. Candid and sincere in her opening remarks, she said she had wanted to attend the moment she heard about the film. She had known Ujwal Thapa, and she had mourned his loss, praying for him during his illness. She wished that leaders like him were here today to show us the way forward in a time of need. The film opened in theatres on the 9th of January, and is an essential viewing experience for anyone who cares about Nepal’s future and wants some insight into how they might make a difference.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was not perfect, but he was remarkable. He realised that being a civic minded citizen just isn’t enough. To make a real difference, one also needs to be principled, insightful, entrepreneurial, creative, self motivated, able to speak truth to power, uncorruptible, practical, well prepared, and, perhaps, most importantly, able to step back from holding power even after attaining it.&nbsp; The saying by Plato that goes “He who does not desire power is fit to hold it” was surely meant for people like Ujwal Thapa. One can only hope that in the near future more people embodying this description will, however reluctantly, come forward to lead Nepal. Ujwal Thapa worked hard to enable this, they must be out there. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/veO1yVM4pS4?si=f0Lcbs1wasyqfnK1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> The Man Who Shook Our Minds is being screened at QFX cinemas across town. Sophia L Pandé is on the Ujwal Thapa Foundation Advisory Board. She is a writer, art-historian and filmmaker, advising on the economic and social potential of the Cultural and Creative Industries. She is Director of Development at the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust, and Founding Director of The Kalā Salon, a non-profit space for the arts.

The Man Who Shook Our Minds

Kalpana Maharjan is the first female journalist to climb Mt Everest from both the Nepal and the China sides. But the Lalitpur native doesn’t just climb mountains for the sake of breaking records. In 2014, Maharjan was attempting Mera Peak in the Khumbu region when she was struck by severe cerebral oedema that put her into a coma for eight days. “After regaining consciousness I believed that God had given me a second life,” recalls Maharjan. “So I decided that I would live the rest of my life for the public good.” Her first summit of Everest was in 2018, when Maharjan was 34. She climbed from the South Col route with four other Nepali women journalists. Exactly a year later, she summitted again, this time from from the North Col route, naming her expedition 'Back to Everest: A Campaign Against Child Marriage.'&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122050152_bd0158bb764e79e6c20ed70fe297e5c836621f7af2366a650e4e68e07a4bbe3a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260122050152_bd0158bb764e79e6c20ed70fe297e5c836621f7af2366a650e4e68e07a4bbe3a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="1024" loading="lazy" alt="Kalpana Maharjan"> <figcaption>Kalpana Maharjan being greeted in Lalitpur after her second ascent of Everest in 2019.</figcaption> </figure>  Now, Maharjan combines her activism with training young Nepalis in sports climbing. Maharjan runs awareness programs against child marriage and human trafficking in schools in South Lalitpur: Godavari, Imadol, Dukuchhep. Her first goal is to make the district of Lalitpur free of child marriage. “My whole goal is to show kids that there is more to life than getting married,” she says. She does this by introducing and training students in Sports Climbing which includes Speed climbing, Lead climbing, and Bouldering. “There are only one or two Nepali athletes dedicated to the sport. So it is possible to train for 3 to 4 years and become an international level climber,” says Maharjan, who trains 150 young athletes, some as young as 7. There are under-14 climbing tournaments, and the idea is to start them young on the walls since their future competitors in the West start as soon as they can walk. Maharjan is committed to the sport. She completed judging and route-setting training from the Indian Mountaineering Foundation, is the president of the Bagmati Province’s Sports Climbing Association and is fund-raising to build a climbing wall in Imadol. For the moment, Maharjan’s students use the Pasang Lhamu climbing wall in Dhumbarahi, twice a week and daily during vacations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122050152_59195b8b3d15be358bb6909a03217bff0fc6b62e8ddccf01c85369119853dda9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122050152_59195b8b3d15be358bb6909a03217bff0fc6b62e8ddccf01c85369119853dda9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Kalpana Maharjan"> <figcaption>Kalpana Maharjan trainign students on the climbing wall.</figcaption> </figure>  “The kids are excited about the wall in Imadol, which would allow them to train more often,” says Maharjan. “Interestingly, the ones who are scared of heights often perform the best.” Besides training on the climbing wall, Maharjan also counsels her students about their career plans, and hopes that her story inspires them to achieve any goal they want. With programs such as ‘Tij on the Wall’ during the annual festival for women, Maharjan makes sure the parents are involved too, and that they understand and feel what climbing is like. BALANCING ACT Maharjan has always had to balance her passion for mountaineering, activism, and sports climbing with the duties and expectations of her family. “My son helps out a lot, he is very independent and busy, but convincing my parents and husband was a lot of work,” she admits. In fact, her husband only found out that she was going back to climbing Everest after her coma through the news. “I understand their concern. After all, the doctor had given me only a 15% chance to live,” she says. “I couldn’t tell them I was going back to the mountains.” Kalpana’s father even threatened to disown her. But she had already set her mind to it, and was willing to risk any opposition from her parents, and even separation. While training for her first attempt, she would wake up at three in the morning to get all of her housework done. Then she would leave the house to train at a climbing wall in Balaju, and then go to her journalism job or meet potential sponsors for the climb. “As the eldest daughter-in-law in a traditional Newar household I had a lot of chores when I got home in the evening,” she remembers. As part of the Jyapu farming community, Maharjan is also proud that after working as a journalist producing videos, on the weekends she is at her family’s paddy field in Dhapakhel with a doko on her back. Eventually, Maharjan’s goal is to have her trainees win medals in international competitions, and develop a reputation for Nepal in the sports climbing world.

Driving young Nepalis up the wall

This is the 80th 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 worked in Kuwait for 11 years before deciding to call it quits. I had not visited Nepal in nine years. A broker from eastern Nepal had arranged the migration of 15 of us, and I was the only one from Jajarkot. 
Since the government did not allow domestic workers to migrate, we went through India. We were afraid he might sell us off in India. I had never left my village. As a precaution, we made the female broker accompany us to India till we flew out to Kuwait.
At the airport in Kuwait, no one came to pick us up and we waited there for two days. We did not have any money so we had to beg for food and water. Some gave us noodles, biscuits and water. Others ignored us. 
We even drank water from used bottles from the trash. The Indian agent finally came to pick us up but we were too scared to confront him.
The first house I was placed in was not good. I did not speak Arabic and I did not know how to use the iron or washing machine. A Filipino worker helped me, but madam kept following me around and making me do everything twice. It was not easy at all.
Not able to understand the language I was like someone dumb and deaf. Hand gestures were not sufficient. I don’t know how I passed those two years before returning to Nepal. But there were no jobs, no money. So I decided to migrate again to Kuwait because it felt familiar, and by this time I spoke Arabic. 
This time, I stayed with the same family for nine years. All four children in the house were born when I was there, so they are very attached to me. Madam was all right although she made me work a lot and micromanaged me. Every family member in Kuwait had their car and driver. Back home we don’t even own personal bicycles.
Taking care of children meant that I could go wherever they went so I got to travel and eat pizzas and burgers. They paid me on time, and I sent money home to take care of my sister, a cancer survivor.
With my savings I also bought land and built a small house in Surkhet. I have no educational background or work experience, so this was a big deal.
For nine years, I did not see a reason to return because of my obligations to my sister and her son. In Kuwait, I met with colleagues from different countries like the Philippines, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and India but we communicated in Arabic. We worked for different families but got to meet every Thursday when madams used to go to her mother’s house. 
We got along and fought like sisters, but most of our time went running after the children. There was no time for anything else. Madam’s house where I spent nine years was good, but it is actually how well the employers treat us that is important.
I watched Tiktok videos during my free time. Mostly deuda songs. During the GenZ movement, I was glued to social media. I supported it, but wished they had not burnt down government offices. I was not allowed to post on social media. 
By the time I left, I was making around 180 Kuwait dinar a month ($580). I have heard horror stories from Nepali sisters about their employers, but mine paid me well and on time. She could have been better by allowing me to rest more, to use the phone more freely. 
Between preparing children for school, ironing, washing, cleaning the house, cooking, taking care of the children, I had no time for anything. Not even to sleep properly. What can we do?
Back in Nepal I often wonder how the children are doing. If they are eating well. You get attached to them, but as they grow older, they also complain about us. I used to sing and dance with the kids. They depended on me for everything and I had watched them right from the time they were born. 
Sometimes, they used to refer to me as their mother which my madam did not like. I don’t have my own kids. That is why when I made up my mind to leave, I felt bad leaving them behind, especially the youngest one who relied on me for everything. 
Even now, when I think about it, my eyes tear up. Madam asked me to take a long vacation and return to Kuwait, but I had made up my mind to go back to Nepal. A Sri Lankan woman replaced me, and we overlapped for a month as I trained her and the children got used to her. 
On my last day, Madam and I decided that I should sneak out without telling the children because they would not be able to handle it. I asked the Sri Lankan woman how the children are holding up, and she said the youngest one still cries asking about me. Madam was also emotional about me leaving, she gave me olive oil, clothes and sweets but no money. I cannot describe how happy I was to get on the plane to return home, my heart was full of excitement.
Since I came back, it has been a very different experience. After nine years of living in someone else’s house where my every move was monitored, I feel so free. I can use the phone as I please. I can sleep as I please. I need to catch up on my sleep. There is so much freedom. 
Because of the children, I had developed a taste for pizzas and burgers but they are not as tasty in Nepal, I don’t know why. But the meal I was craving for when I came home was freshly made rice, lentils and mustard greens. I went to the hospital here, and I saw nurses in uniform and it reminded me of the domestic workermaid’s clothes I wore in Kuwait. 
I am worried about money running out, even though it has only been a few weeks. Expenses are high in Nepal. The monthly income has stopped. When I went a decade ago, I relied on others financially. Now, there are others who depend on me.
Author wants to remain anonymous.

Homecoming after nine years

The wide <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-river-of-life">Karnali River</a> looks like the sea here in the Tarai, and thick fog makes it impossible to see the other shore. Farmers melt into the mist as they head off to their farms. A weak sun filters through by mid-morning. Pigs nap in their pens, goats are dressed in cardigans fashioned out of jute sacks for warmth, hens peck listlessly at the mud courtyards. Ducks waddle across the country roads, and cars swerve to avoid them. The indigenous Tharu and Sonaha communities here have deeply-rooted socio-cultural ties to the river. They have fished in it for generations, and fish is associated with births, deaths, and weddings. As their name suggests, the Sonaha have also traditionally panned for gold in the sand along the banks. But in recent decades, over-fishing, pollution and infrastructure have led to a decline in the Karnali’s fish population. Last week, near the Satti bridge connecting Sudurpaschim and Lumbini Provinces, the fog lifted to reveal the blue-green Karnali glimmering in the sun. Hundreds of people from Kailali’s Tikapur and Bardia’s Rajapur gathered for the inauguration of the Sakhi Fish Sanctuary — the first conservation effort of its kind in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260116130120_ef2493a1124a33e90ca39f3a0b861ffef4a8bde6b5d3839f96e2fe7f583d0de8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260116130120_ef2493a1124a33e90ca39f3a0b861ffef4a8bde6b5d3839f96e2fe7f583d0de8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali aquatic reserve"> <figcaption>The Sonaha community have traditionally panned for gold in the sand along the banks of the Karnali River. Photos: GAYATRI PRADHAN / WWF NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  The sanctuary covers nearly 4 sq km of the Lower Karnali that falls within the two municipalities, and is ecologically significant since it serves as critical breeding, spawning, and nursery habitats for endangered fish, reptiles and mammals.&nbsp; Here are found the rare Gangetic River Dolphin (Platanista gangetica), the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/crocodile-chronicle">Gharial</a> (Gavialis gangeticus) &nbsp;fish-eating crocodile, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-the-karnali-otters">Smooth-coated Otter</a> (Lutrogale perspicillata). In addition, there are 197 species of fish in the Karnali, of which 136 are found here in the Tarai section of the river. The pebbled riverbed is a breeding ground for fish when the river is low, while the oxbow lakes and loops created by the nearby Satti bridge are nursing grounds for fish. This is what makes this section of the Karnali ideal to be declared a sanctuary. But what makes the conservation effort really unique is that it is an initiative of the two local municipalities, the local Tharu, Sonaha and other indigenous communities. The sanctuary will support the river’s aquatic biodiversity, and is supported by the World Wildlife Fund (WWF), the Dolphin Conservation Centre, Freed Kamaiya Women Development Forum, Small Mammals Conservation and Research Foundation, and the Sonaha Bikas Samaj.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260115110116_f844434e0191df09ad6d6d7887a69491eaf15f0ff1b093c7866ab22cfb0c6c95.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260115110116_f844434e0191df09ad6d6d7887a69491eaf15f0ff1b093c7866ab22cfb0c6c95" data-rendition-name="original" width="1358" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="6-7 map"> </figure>  MEKONG LESSONS The mayors of Tikapur and Rajapur visited fish conservation zones in Laos along the Mekong River to learn about their conservation practices. &nbsp; “We have indiscriminately killed the fish in the Karnali during the breeding and nursing season,” said Rajapur Mayor Dipesh Tharu at the inauguration. “We felt that if this continued there would be no fish left.” Tharu is aware that some locals are wary of conservation initiatives, fearing that it will ban fishing altogether. The sanctuary will allow sustainable fishing but ban the use of dynamite and poison to kill fish.&nbsp; “The sanctuary will contribute to the conservation of not just fish species, but also the mammals and reptiles that live here,” explained ichthyologist Suresh Wagle. “It will protect the spawning and nursing grounds, restore the natural habitat of fish and ensure their genetic continuation.” Tikapur’s mayor Ram Lal Dangaura Tharu recalled his own childhood spent fishing in the Karnali: “Even two decades ago there used to be plenty of fish here, we used to bring baskets full of them home. Now, it is looking like there will be no fish left. This is why the sanctuary is important.” Local governments taking the lead in conservation allows them to have ownership, and help citizens understand the importance of protecting the riverine ecosystem better.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260116130120_fddc696800b9b38d02736195af2b3535667cde365d56151ccf85eb0756f1ad8f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260116130120_fddc696800b9b38d02736195af2b3535667cde365d56151ccf85eb0756f1ad8f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali aquatic reserve"> </figure>  “The commitment of the local government towards resource conservation, management and sustainable development is what makes this sanctuary so unique,” says Ghana Gurung of WWF Nepal. “In Nepal and across the world, we are seeing indigenous culture and traditions disappear with the biodiversity. This initiative will not just protect freshwater aquatic species but also the culture and heritage of indigenous groups linked to the river.” Komal Sonaha grew up fishing and panning for gold along the banks of the Karnali. The fish provided food, and the gold brought additional income. Sonaha also remembers Karnali brimming with fish when she was young. “But now, there are hardly any left,” she said. &nbsp; Sonaha is also a WWF Otter Champion, and part of the community-run river conservation groups that mobilise local communities for awareness. “Initially there was anger and suspicion among local communities, but now, there is a realisation that the sanctuary is the best thing that could have happened here,” Sonaha added.&nbsp; Sonaha and her family still pan for gold, but with the fish scarce, their primary means of livelihood has shifted to livestock like many other families in Tikapur and Rajapur, supported by national and local institutions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260116130120_23d679da5c49f22342b4fd80f0d0ec5a1fb4c38fb4ac379d276a959f435b4f68.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260116130120_23d679da5c49f22342b4fd80f0d0ec5a1fb4c38fb4ac379d276a959f435b4f68" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali aquatic reserve"> <figcaption>Local communities whose livelihoods are linked with the Karnali river have been supported by organisations like WWF Nepal and other national and local organisations to set up alternative means of income generation.</figcaption> </figure>  Ashmita Tharu and Pratima Tharu also used to depend on fish, but now have shifted to vegetable farming in Rajapur. This time of year, there is spinach, cucumber, and cauliflower ready to be sold to nearby markets. The women are now financially independent and actively contribute to their household expenses and their children’s education. Said Pratima: “We used to fish in this river without thinking about the consequences. We had no idea how important conservation was.”&nbsp; Ashmita nods in agreement. “Now, we are self-employed and so busy with our vegtables that we do not even have time to fish anymore,” she said. With Tikapur and Rajapur municipalities leading the charge, conservationists hope that other local governments and communities along other rivers in Nepal will follow suit to preserve aquatic biodiversity.&nbsp; “This initiative from the two municipalities is a milestone in conservation,” said Bijay Shrestha of the Dolphin Conservation Centre. “This will serve as a model and can be replicated across the country to conserve our freshwater habitat and the people who rely on them.” Local officials also hope that the sanctuary will provide an opportunity to explore options like fishing tourism. &nbsp; Said Tikapur Mayor Ram Lal Dangaura Tharu: “The Karnali, with its biodiversity, is a river of opportunity and possibility, we are determined to protect it, and make what this river has to offer known to Nepal and the world.” &nbsp; This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141220_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251224141220_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG"> </figure>

Karnali Aquatic Reserve

The series <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Nepal Made</a> profiles world-class Nepali products and the people behind them. Deepak Acharya was born and raised in Simara, before his uncle took him to Pokhara when he was only in sixth grade. After class, he helped sell jackets and outdoor gear at his uncle's Lakeside store. &nbsp; Twenty-two years later, &nbsp;Acharya is still selling jackets. Not international brands like he used to, but products of his own outdoor gear company, DOLPO.&nbsp; Acharya and his brother-in-law, Krishna Ammai, started making and selling jackets and gear for international companies out of Thamel. After losing his business partner in the 2015 earthquake, he was done selling imported items. He launched his own line of outerwear, named after Nepal’s rugged and remote district, known for its stunning arid landscape. The careful selection of the name DOLPO paid off. It took off, providing a high-quality, affordable Nepal-made alternative to foreign companies.&nbsp; “A lot of work went into choosing the name Dolpo,” says Acharya, who considered what came into people’s minds when they heard the name of a place with double-O sound. “I wanted a brand that local customers would instantly relate to toughness and mountains.” The elegant logo reflects this as well, made up of two overlapping rounded triangles denoting mountains with a third peak in the middle. Underneath is ‘DOLPO’ in upper case sans serif.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260116120148_968d9354094049265372d851d0e44e16ae4fc86b5631481e365e6e977f13d37d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260116120148_968d9354094049265372d851d0e44e16ae4fc86b5631481e365e6e977f13d37d" data-rendition-name="original" width="854" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Dolpo NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DOLPO</figcaption> </figure>  RIGHT QUALITY, RIGHT PRICE “Our philosophy is Right quality, Right price,” says co-founder Deepak Acharya, adding with a smile that the pricing strategy of a particular competitor has made business easy: “The employees at North Face may sell North Face, but they wear Dolpo.” The rebranding was so successful that Acharya regrets not launching it sooner. The reason for the success is that the outdoor gear market in Nepal has taken off with more and more domestic tourists trekking in the high mountains to share their adventures on social media.&nbsp; Nepalis seem to be consciously choosing sustainable, Nepal made products of international quality. Acharya says: “Of course, there will always be a demographic that only wears North Face, or Sonam. But we have the right design, right price philosophy.”&nbsp; DOLPO uses fabric and material mainly from Japan, and adheres to strict quality control. The reversible down jackets, windcheaters, shorts, fleece-lined pants, trekking trousers, backpacks, and polo shirts can be bought through its website, or two exclusive flagship stores in Sorakhutte and Thamel Chok. “After the rebrand, we slowly made a digital platform, marketed online, and worked with a delivery company to get items directly to buyers,” says Acharya. “We have no brokers or middlemen to keep prices low for the consumer.” DOLPO is a family business with Acharya’s mother and sister also involved, and nephew Nishant Ammai driving digital sales. Acharya points out that there is a lot of business opportunity in Nepal, as there are too many low-quality products being sold at too high a price. &nbsp;“The market is begging for an auto-correction,” he says. For Nepal’s pessimistic youth who are fleeing the country, Acharya urges patience: “The younger generation wants shortcuts. The mindset is to set up a venture and in three years they will be set for life. But this is not how success works.” “Choose a field, put in ten years of effort, really learn about it, and then you will see the vast possibility present in Nepal,” he continues.&nbsp; Last month, the DOLPO logo was seen on the jerseys of the Biratnagar Kings in NPL 2. The company made hats, jackets, and jerseys for star-studded cricket players including Lokesh Bam, Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf Du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. The Kings finished second in the group, and although Acharya is a football fan, he is happy to contribute to the rise of cricket in Nepal. &nbsp;&nbsp;

Proud to wear DOLPO

At the stroke of the midnight hour, it finally came to something everyone in Nepal’s oldest and biggest party had been dreading — a split.
Not that this was anything new. The Nepali Congress (NC) had splintered twice before and the main protagonist both times was five-time prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba. After the GenZ uprising and being physically mauled and his house looted and set on fire on 9 September Deuba had said he was stepping aside, but it seems old ambitions die hard.
The showdown between the Gagan Thapa-Bishow Prakash Sharma camp and Deuba came to a head on Wednesday as the establishment leadership decided to suspend Thapa, Sharma, and Farmullah Mansoor for five years to punish them for daring to challenge the leadership and hold a special general convention.&nbsp;
Bhrikuti Mandap in the centre of Kathmandu is the venue for trade exhibitions, but this week it was where an exhibition of everything that is wrong with Nepali politics was on full display — lack of internal party democracy and an unaccountable gerontocracy clinging on to power.&nbsp;
Thapa and Sharma had gathered the support of 62% of the NC membership at their convention and chose Gagan Thapa as the new party leader and proposed him as a prime ministerial candidate after the 5 March election.
Deuba’s allies had refused to attend or endorse the special general convention, and were adamant about holding a general convention to choose a new party head after the election. Thapa, Sharma and their supporters argued that the party faced ignominious defeat in the polls if Deuba insisted on being prime minister again.
The events of September 2025 have cast a long shadow over Nepali politics, with many new parties and alliances pledging to represent the aspirations of the GenZ movement. However, that realisation does not seem to have dawned on the tried, tested and failed leadership of the NC, UML and the NCP where the party leaders have held on to power by sidelining all rivals. &nbsp;
Thapa and Sharma were NC general secretaries held multiple rounds of discussions to convince Deuba to accept their eight-point demand that for the party’s and the country’s sake his time was up, and he should cut and cut cleanly. Despite having already handed over the party leadership to Purna Bahadur Khadka in September, Deuba refused to step down.&nbsp;
‘What demands has the Nepali Congress been unable to reconcile that it is headed for a split? There is no ideological dispute, just a proposal to make it easier to go for the election,’ noted journalist and author Narayan Wagle. ‘If those who have been in politics for so many years cannot reach an agreement, what have they learned in life and what hope is there for the country?’
Gagan Thapa was elected unopposed as the new party president on Thursday midnight, with Sharma and Pushpa Bhusal appointed vice-presidents. Thapa has said backroom talks are still ongoing though mediators, but for all intents and purposes the split seems irreconcilable.&nbsp;
The million dollar question now is: who gets to be the real Nepali Congress? Who gets the NC’s tree election symbol at the polls?
Both the Thapa and Deuba factions have written to the Election Commission (EC) laying claim to the party and its symbol. Whatever the EC decides, with less than two months to go for the polls, the dispute over its legitimacy will almost certainly have to be decided in the courts.
Deuba and his counterpart K P Oli in the UML have been unwilling or unable to fathom the level of outrage that young Nepalis feel about their parties. They have shown an inability to heed the call for institutional overhaul within parties and in Nepal’s political culture post-September. Second generation leaders within those parties who have grown old waiting for reform, seem to have better internalised the need for internal restructuring.&nbsp;
Oli has managed to hold on to power after displaying increasing authoritarianism within his UML, while Deuba has shown an unwillingness to bow out of leadership with grace. Both have squandered away their legacy.
For Gagan Thapa, the events of Thursday was a culmination of his long-standing claim for leadership change within the NC coupled with a compulsion to address the demands of the youth movement to maximise gains for his party this election. Just like Deuba, Thapa’s house was also looted and torched during the September protests.
Thapa told Onlinekhabar on Thursday: “Our belief was that we cannot go into elections under the present circumstances under [Sher Bahadur Deuba’s] leadership and with him as the party’s prime ministerial candidate. We would lose.”
The special general convention has taken further steps for reform, endorsing amendments to the party statue, which has set term limits for key leadership positions, including a one-term limit for party president, two-term limit for prime minister, three for a ministerial position, and four terms for a directly elected member of Parliament. Meanwhile, party members are only allowed to become lawmakers through the Proportional Representation system for one term.&nbsp;
If Thapa’s leadership holds legitimacy, this new chapter for the NC might come as a welcome change to young Nepalis who have been calling for leadership overhaul and internal party reforms within the establishment parties. But it may also come at the cost of the NC’s core base. It remains to be seen which side tips the scale at the polls.&nbsp;
The NC’s infighting and institutional shake-up has also posed fresh concerns about how it will affect the election schedule just as it looked as though all the mainstream political parties were finally on board and preparing for the polls. With voting barely weeks away, Nepal’s political parties are still too busy cleaning up their own house to give too much time to work on their platforms, agendas and serious campaigning
Historically, political break-ups and make-ups in Nepal are not set in stone. Even the newest alliance between Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP and Kulman Ghising’s UNP did not even last 12 days. &nbsp;Balen Shah is set to resign from his mayor position in the next and has gotten into the thick of election preparation with the RSP. His next step will be to choose which constituency he is going to contest from.
Meanwhile, in the light of a new day, the two NC factions may still decide that breaking up is hard to do when they are so close to elections, and the political stakes are so high.&nbsp;

Grand split in Nepal’s grand old party

Illegal wildlife trade is the fourth most lucrative trafficking crime after drugs, humans, and weapons. Most wildlife ends up in China and Southeast Asia to be used mainly in traditional medicine or as bushmeat. Nepal is both the source and transit for wildlife trafficking, and while the authorities have been successful in protecting flagship mammals like tigers, rhinos, and leopards, the country still serves as a major transit point for less popular wildlife. Despite strict laws against wildlife crimes members of indigenous communities are easily tempted by organised transboundary criminals. They are recruited to poach endangered animals and plants, and end up in jail, while ring leaders are rarely caught.&nbsp; Many are not hardened criminals, just regular folk like Bishnu Adhikari, 30, who served time in Kathmandu’s Central Jail. He had gone with a friend to sell pangolin scales without knowing it was illegal and that the punishment was so harsh. Bikash Chhetri, a Grade 11 student, was riding a motorcycle with college friends when they were intercepted by the Central Investigation Bureau (CIB). Chhetri says he had no idea his &nbsp;friend was carrying the contraband in his bag. Both Adhikari and Chettri served five years in jail. But most people from Nepal’s indigenous communities are often unaware of the protected status or importance of the wildlife they were recruited to smuggle, handle, or transport. “Most of indigenous people involved in wildlife trade in Nepal are not criminals, they are poor and live near protected areas are simply trying to support their families, and mostly it is opportunistic killing,” says wildlife researcher Kumar Paudel of Greenhood Nepal. “Often they are exploited by higher-ups in the ladder of organised crime.” Paudel filed a petition at the Supreme Court in 2018, and the Supreme Court five years later ordered the government to implement the law in a full, fair, and consistent manner. One of the indigenous communities is the semi-nomadic Chepang who have a long tradition of eating fruit bats. Dibesh Karmacharya of the Center of Molecular Dynamics Nepal in Kathmandu has been looking into new diseases for over a decade and a half, and this community in Makwanpur next to Chitwan National Park was selected. “Bats are known to carry viruses and bacteria, which are not harmful to them, but when humans get exposed the microbes can mutate and become pathogens with high transmissibility,” explains Karmacharya, who found that many Chepang had been imprisoned for poaching.&nbsp; “Indigenous communities are often disenfranchised and at the bottom of the socioeconomic ladder, and need some kind of income,” says Karmacharya. “They are hunter-gatherers and have knowledge of the land as well as wildlife, so they get recruited by wildlife traffickers often getting caught, and not those who hire them.” CLIMATE FACTOR Global warming has meant that vectors that carry pathogens, as well as animals, are also moving to higher altitudes. As temperature rises, glaciers melt, and previously barren slopes have vegetation. Many mammals, such as common leopards, which are found in the foothills are moving up the mountains to share the habitat of snow leopards. Tigers have also been known to move out of Tarai national parks to seek cooler climes in the Mahabharata Range. Besides the risk of being caught, indigenous communities also are exposed to disease when they handle wildlife and harvest organs. In the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, there was speculation that the virus had jumped from pangolins to humans, which has since been disproven. Even so, pangolins are the world’s most trafficked mammal. The scales of the anteater are thought to have medical properties and are used in traditional Chinese medicine in China, as well as eaten as a delicacy in parts of Asia. Tulshi Laxmi Suwal of the Small Mammals Conservation and Research Foundation (SMCRF), who did her PhD on pangolins from Taiwan, says there is a link between climate, increased human-wildlife contact, and emerging diseases. “Climate change is directly affecting their food and habitat,” explains Suwal. “Pangolins need a lot of water and if they don’t get it ectoparasites under their scales might be easily released to their surroundings. But water is becoming scarcer with climate breakdown.”&nbsp; Researcher Kumar Paudel says law enforcement must be driven not so much by the total number of traffickers arrested, but by the goal of discouraging people from participating in the trade. This means fair and accountable implementation of the law so that indigenous people are not disproportionately impacted.&nbsp; Some ring leaders involved in tiger and rhino poaching have been arrested, but a handful of them staged jailbreaks during the September GenZ protests and are again at large — raising the risk that poaching may increase.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260114100128_e7a6891c2980aa132dd3e4644b752008bd367dd6e868790d4dbae5aa626a2764.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260114100128_e7a6891c2980aa132dd3e4644b752008bd367dd6e868790d4dbae5aa626a2764" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="rhino"> <figcaption>Two greater one-horned rhinoceroses at Chitwan National Park in Nepal. Photo: WIKIMEDIA COMMONS</figcaption> </figure>  “Investigation must move to the upper echelons of the trade,” says Paudel. “And indigenous people need alternative livelihoods and education so they are not easily recruited to hunt down wildlife.”&nbsp; The solution may lie in small, local incentives that can help communities realise the importance of conservation while also empowering them, socially and economically. One such example is the Pangolin Trail in Bagh Bhairav Community Forest in Kirtipur near Kathmandu. After their study found the community forest to be a habitat for pangolins and endangered bird species, SMCRF built a trekking trail which has since been handed over to the local community which can get income from visitor fees. The local government has expanded the trail, added an information center, and runs clean-up campaigns. This gave the local Tamang community of 100 households a sense of ownership and agency. Local villagers have been trained to become citizen scientists, and help in recording pangolin behaviour. One of them is Sun Laxmi Pakhrin, who is not formally educated, but works in pangolin protection using GPS tracking systems and camera traps.&nbsp; A community previously notorious for theft, drug trafficking and wildlife poaching is now reformed. Families are also involved in small businesses such as poultry. Suwal says: “Women in indigenous communities are now in decision-making roles and the guardians of nature and wildlife.” With contribution from Qian Sun, Global Voices.

Indigenous people pay price for poaching

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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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