Many indigenous peoples throughout the world have inked tattoos for aesthetic and therapeutic reasons which respect their culture and traditions.&nbsp; That includes Tharu women in Nepal who have tattooed themselves with traditional motifs that tell stories about their ancestry and the natural world. The Nat are a nomadic ethnic group that pitch tents near villages to do odd jobs. While the men hunt birds and small mammals, or fish, the women tattoo other women.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140112_c5ac4bfb3ec021aafc3e9d423677531effe51dd1c3ad2dcfc45f936a427eb4e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250118140112_c5ac4bfb3ec021aafc3e9d423677531effe51dd1c3ad2dcfc45f936a427eb4e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2220" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>BODY OF ART: Garbhi Dasin Tharuni shows elephants and warriors tattoed on her arm.</figcaption> </figure>  Ghurni Chaudhary, 70, from Saptari remembers getting one of her tattoos from a Nat woman in return for cooking for them. Elders told Ghurni that her in-laws would not accept food from her hand if she did not get tattooed. “Although I don’t know the meaning of floral patterns on my arms, I got inked the pokhair tattoo with a small boat and oarsman,” she adds. The pokhair is a pond in the Tharu language and the tattoo consists of four corners of a pond – a floral pattern at each corner. The boat symbolises the crossing of the river of life to the other side.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140112_325a509d3481e03837df90154667d94efe823adb245adeb24c560f5877dd00fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250118140112_325a509d3481e03837df90154667d94efe823adb245adeb24c560f5877dd00fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>A woman from Kailali with peacock tattoos on her legs.</figcaption> </figure>  Interestingly, the Tharu epic Gurbabak Jalmauti talks about Gurbaba, the creator of the earth, going to a safer place with his disciples on a boat during the apocalypse. Most Tharu women also get inked with floral patterns to get freedom from the endless cycle of life and death and a symbol of nirvana.&nbsp; Ahilya Devi, 80, proudly shows a simple thopa-thopi tattoo on her left arm made with rosette motifs that are supposed to ward off the evil eye. &nbsp; “It is one of the simplest tattoos – it’s easy to make for the tattoo artist and looks great on the arm,” she says. “I just have that one, and didn’t want any more.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140112_354240247ef70bd3f42ecca3f405014ac2aee2b6b7496d945ffaf545c9696d34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250118140112_354240247ef70bd3f42ecca3f405014ac2aee2b6b7496d945ffaf545c9696d34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2220" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>Kashia Chaudhary with a sago palm and marigold on the back of her lower arms.</figcaption> </figure>  The Tharu are forest-dwellers and grow trees in their backyard. Which is why Tharu women from eastern Nepal have a tattoo of the garden of the god Salahesh with flowers and an Ashoka tree. Kashia Chaudhary shows off her tattoos of sago palm and marigold flower, inked on the back of her lower arm. Another tattoo that covers the whole of the upper or lower arm represents an areca nut palm. Many women in the village of Ramdhuni in Sunsari wear tattoos of the god Ram and his brother Laxman. Ramdhuni has an eternal flame which is believed to have kept burning from the days of the Ramayana. Lord Ram is supposed to have spent a night here before his exile.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140116_3b072bd43cbafa4dc3ae12b4c7f55b2643e8f92ce3a23a5cfc9699a70f3128f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250118140116_3b072bd43cbafa4dc3ae12b4c7f55b2643e8f92ce3a23a5cfc9699a70f3128f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2220" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>Ghurni Chaudhary's parents told her that her in-laws would only accept food from her if she got a tattoo.</figcaption> </figure>  Garbhi Dasin, an ascetic in her 70s, wears Ram Laxman tattoos on her calf and wheels of a chariot on her shin. Ashia Tharuni from the neighbouring village also wears a Ram Laxman tattoo on her legs. Interestingly, the sacred tattoos find a place on women’s legs, and that too on the rear side. &nbsp; Other Tharu women simply got these tattoos as a sign of beauty, and inking is regarded as permanent jewellery. The block tattoos of peacocks on the legs add to the aesthetic. “We got tattoos to look beautiful,” says Bhuti Devi from Hasanpur village. “These tattoos will accompany us when we die. They will go together with us.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140116_62cc2c0cbd36f64d40aaee8900bbd851d5d009df10689fb27ed39c4059a3c484.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250118140116_62cc2c0cbd36f64d40aaee8900bbd851d5d009df10689fb27ed39c4059a3c484" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2220" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>Peacock and tiger tattoos on Chanabati Tharu's legs.</figcaption> </figure>  Bhuti Devi has a lot of tattoos. The most outstanding one perhaps is that of a peacock because Tharus believe they are descendants of Mauryas, the dynasty of Emperor Ashoka who spread Buddhism across the Subcontinent. Tharus have an important relationship with fish, regarding them and earthworms as the first life on the planet. Fish tattoos are therefore popular.&nbsp; Tharus have been credited for their role in nature conservation in their homeland where Chitwan and Bardia national parks are now situated. They used to be elephant handlers for royalty. The elephant tattoo with a mahout is common in tattoos worn by Tharu women.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140116_8a2f434c0f525cc8eb29e4f4032154d8adb9fa07593e3523dd4585836b6aee02.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250118140116_8a2f434c0f525cc8eb29e4f4032154d8adb9fa07593e3523dd4585836b6aee02" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>Kailali woman with tattoos on her legs.</figcaption> </figure>  One woman in Sunsari even has a tattoo called German ke larai (German war) which is a complex tattoo design that includes armies on foot with spears, on elephants, and on horses doing battle. Tigers are another tattoo that adorn the chest or the upper arm of women, inked on top of other motifs, because they are regarded as goddesses.&nbsp; On Nepali New Year, Tharus worship the goddess and other jungle gods, sacrificing goats and pigeons to appease them, so that they and their cattle are not attacked by wild animals and evil spirits. In western Nepal, Tharus get tattoos of horses, animals they revere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118140116_6eb8b5b2129dd3ed687e2d77eeed7f11107aa7b4320eac00396c64130c7dbe17.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250118140116_6eb8b5b2129dd3ed687e2d77eeed7f11107aa7b4320eac00396c64130c7dbe17" data-rendition-name="original" width="2220" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> <figcaption>Bhuti Devi shows her fish tattoo. The Tharu believe fish and earthworms were the first life on the planet</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the tattoos that the artists inked for free were simple human patterns. If somebody got many tattoos made, the artists would also ink them for free, particularly on fingers or the arm. The most prominent tattoo on their hands can be the rays of the sun. The tattoo artist usually stuck seven needles together, collected soot from oil lamps and started piercing the skin. Once done, they applied turmeric powder and mustard oil, as well as chanted a mantra to alleviate the pain. Tharu elders banned child marriages and tattooing went into decline. Now, the younger generation of Tharus are less interested in getting traditional tattoos, and the Nat no longer wander around the villages offering the service. But a few Tharu tattoo artists still remain in Kanchanpur and elsewhere.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118030124_92e13f2c7a12c6fc1883658acdb8697953ef8f03b73934a845cb1c38056d63ba.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250118030124_92e13f2c7a12c6fc1883658acdb8697953ef8f03b73934a845cb1c38056d63ba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Inking an identity NT"> </figure>  There is now an increasing awareness and activism about these cultural practices, and a revival of interest.&nbsp; “Traditional tattoos are a powerful symbol of our cultural identity,” says Tharu activist Indu Tharu. “For us, this is not just body art but a connection to our ancestral roots, beliefs, and history, and a form of reclaiming unique cultural practices that have been marginalised and suppressed. Wearing a tattoo is a visible declaration of pride in who I am and where I come from.” KalaKulo, an art initiative, together with artist collective ArTree Nepal, organised Tika Chhedana Angana, a convention on Tharu tattooing in Bardia last year.&nbsp; Many young tattoo artists are now learning the art to keep their culture alive. It was not only a celebration of the legacy of Tharu women who have carried a universe of images on their skin, but a beginning for new tattoo artists in the very land that shaped and nurtured this ancestral tradition. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Skin art for the journey into afterlife</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118030144_e7f13fa6dab5de6f9feb051175065d59a610eebe41d5306148d9695efb347047.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250118030144_e7f13fa6dab5de6f9feb051175065d59a610eebe41d5306148d9695efb347047" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Skin art for journey into afterlife NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  As the art and craft of traditional tattoo fades, so does this rich heritage Lha-Chyogu is the term for tattooing in the Newa community of Kathmandu Valley. It literally means 'writing on the skin'. The tattoos are traditionally made using cactus needles and herbal ink, and although a more common adornment in women, men and children also got inked, not just for aesthetics but also for therapeutic reasons or to protect them from evil spirits. Tattoos on the legs symbolise strength while one on the right arm stands for energy. The concept of reincarnation of the human soul is also linked with inking on the skin and reflects a deep belief system.&nbsp; Elders also believe that when a person dies, they take nothing but their tattoos with them. On their way to heaven or hell, it is the markings on the skin that is believed to be the travel 'pocket money' into the next realm. They pay their way through for an easier journey, wherever that may lead.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118030144_4db8f43552a7872f5d05b5d5b48ce43268ad5adc7c3c00c8dacbdacbd9167fca.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250118030144_4db8f43552a7872f5d05b5d5b48ce43268ad5adc7c3c00c8dacbdacbd9167fca" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Skin art for the journey to afterlife NT"> </figure>  Then there is the widespread belief that tattoos drive away misfortune, possibly tied to frequent cholera epidemics, earthquakes and other diseases that took young lives.&nbsp; Some of the more famous designs are those of the half-moons, Tikijhya lattice windows, animals and deities. Some even get tattoos of gods and goddesses they were named after.&nbsp; For example, Laxmidevi would have a tattoo of the god of wealth whereas someone called Ram might have chosen to have his image on their body. &nbsp; Chini Dangol, 74, of Lagan Tole in Kathmandu has a tattoo of Krishna playing flute on her right arm and a half-moon on her hand. She remembers paying 1 paisa for the moon, but five times more for tattoos of gods. Her 79-year-old husband has a tattoo of Chakuncha, a sparrow (pictured above), but it is barely visible now. He remembers getting it because everyone else was at the time in his neighbourhood. Suman Nepali Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/from-paintbrush-to-tattoo-needle">From paintbrush to tattoo needle</a>, Naresh Newar

Inking an identity

Bottom

The Embassy of Japan in Kathmandu is providing Bayalpata Hospital in Achham district to install up-to-date medical equipment as part of its effort to improve healthcare in remote parts of Nepal. The contract for the assistance was signed on Friday between the new Japanese Ambassador Maeda Toru and Kunda Dixit, the Chair of Nyaya Health Nepal which runs the hospital at Bayalpata.&nbsp; Nyaya Health Nepal was set up in 2008 to improve rural healthcare, and has since provided free world class treatment with specialised care free of cost to 1.3 million patients in the far west region of the country.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131100116_0c4fea12fa18ebd1952dde7abe53e9de7a6371b8364b6a7ad00ec72267935eb8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250131100116_0c4fea12fa18ebd1952dde7abe53e9de7a6371b8364b6a7ad00ec72267935eb8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Japanese aid for Bayalpata Hospital NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131100116_898086105d50414e81d5a78bf4b436f8ee1005b876fa7deb28988a9bbf625948.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250131100116_898086105d50414e81d5a78bf4b436f8ee1005b876fa7deb28988a9bbf625948" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Japanese aid for Bayalpata Hospital NT"> </figure>  In that time, the medical need of the region has changed from mainly infectious diseases to lifestyle-related chronic ailments as well as an increase in trauma patients.&nbsp; "I have learnt that Nyaya Health Nepal is improving access to healthcare for underserved communities in rural Nepal, including providing free medical services at Bayalpata Hospital in one of the most remote areas of the country,” Ambassador Toru said at the signing ceremony. “The hospital is the core medical institution in the Achham district and surrounding areas, especially for critical surgeries."  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131140128_6307d1200c5eecb01964be3a6d6428719d8eee30b801a48c201ad9efe8ae875d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250131140128_6307d1200c5eecb01964be3a6d6428719d8eee30b801a48c201ad9efe8ae875d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1179" height="1159" loading="lazy" alt="Japanese aid to Bayalpata Hospital NT"> <figcaption>Photo: EMBASSY OF JAPAN</figcaption> </figure>  The $66,263 contract is under the Grant Assistance for Grassroots Human Security Project (GGP) of the Japanese government, and will finance the purchase of a Digital X-ray flat panel unit, USG Machine, &nbsp;and C-arm imaging device that produces high resolution x-ray images of patients in real time.&nbsp; “The grant will help our surgeons and doctors at Bayalpata provide more timely diagnosis, more reliable surgeries and treatment,” Dixit said. "In the last 15 years, the need of the people of Sudurpaschim Province has changed from infectious diseases to chronic ailments and trauma, and the hospital has tried to adapt accordingly in these underserved parts where access and affordability of quality healthcare is a big challenge." &nbsp;&nbsp; Nyaya Health Nepal runs Bayalpata under its Integrated Municipal Healthcare model where community nurses go house-to-house to monitor the status of family members and record it all under its Electronic Health Record (EHR) system. Patients then have to spend money to go to hospital only if it is really needed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131100112_bddac95af4869c0cfe696e2f1d804466f956cfe4f8afe8f6da73d444d638b8e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250131100112_bddac95af4869c0cfe696e2f1d804466f956cfe4f8afe8f6da73d444d638b8e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Japanese aid for Bayalpata Hospital NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131100112_ec263a04c02ee334986bda08910632e8f1795f7bbfc4cfe5a0b74c6df672696c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250131100112_ec263a04c02ee334986bda08910632e8f1795f7bbfc4cfe5a0b74c6df672696c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Japanese aid for Bayalpata Hospital NT"> </figure>  Nyaya Health Nepal has deployed its EHR in district hospitals in Karnali Province as well, and handed over Charikot Hospital in Dolakha after the 2015 earthquake before handing it over to the Bagmati Province in 2019.&nbsp; Toru, who has been in Nepal for only three weeks, said that the project will provide better medical services to the people of Sudurpaschim and Karnali provinces through trauma care and orthopedic surgeries at Bayalpata hospital.&nbsp; Added Dixit: "This support will go a long way in strengthening our hospital care. Medical equipment are extremely important, especially digital x-ray, as more and more patients come in for trauma care and emergencies."

Japanese aid for Bayalpata Hospital

Turkish Airlines has resumed flights to Damascus, the capital of Syria. Starting 23 January, the Airlines will operate three flights a week with round trips from Istanbul to Damascus costing $299. The flights, which started in February 1984, had been paused since April 2012. "We continue our mission of building bridges between countries and peoples around the globe," saysTurkish CEO Bilal Ekşi. The Airlines currently operates flights to 352 destinations in 131 countries.&nbsp;

Turkish to Damascus

India pledged $250 million in grant support for Nepal's reconstruction following the April 2015 earthquake, allocated to housing, education, health, and cultural heritage. A 5th Joint Project Monitoring Committee this week concluded that 26 projects in the education sector, including Tribhuvan University Central Library in Kathmandu, 32 in the health sector and three in the cultural heritage sector, amounting to Rs3.35 billion, have been handed over in the past year.

Indian grants

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

The winter session of Parliament is set to begin amidst a warmer-than-usual winter season. But things do not look too cosy between the governing coalition and the opposition parties.&nbsp;
Pushpa Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre is currently benched, and is trying to ride a rising wave of public discontent. It has in its crosshairs the coalition’s plan to fast-track five ordinances related to governance, business, investment and real estate. Expect sloganeering and rostrum gheraos when the august House convenes.
Opposition leaders say the issue is not with the content of the draft amendments themselves, but the manner in which they are being passed.&nbsp;
This is not new. Nepal’s leaders love to amend laws through ordinances rather than votes in Parliament. What is puzzling is why a government made up of an alliance of two of the biggest parties with the near two-thirds majority required to pass laws through the Lower House, resorted to executive decisions to introduce new laws?
What, then, is the role of the legislators when the job they were elected by the Nepali people to do is largely carried out through executive orders?&nbsp;
The political leadership justifies taking the ordinance route because of delays in the legislative process. This is emblematic of a wider problem in Nepal’s politics, where leaders employ ad hoc solutions to problems instead of taking a long hard look into the flaws within the legislative process, governance and the state mechanism as a whole.
Understandably, this is such a can of worms that the leadership is unwilling to confront it head on. But confront it they must. If the long-serving prime ministers of the three parties carefully read the outcome of the recent Sharecast Initiative public opinion survey, they will learn that more than half of the Nepali public is unhappy with the direction politics is headed.&nbsp;
The survey should be an eye-opener and a dire warning to politicians to shape up or ship out in the limited time ahead of the general elections in 2027. Poll respondents have listed weak governance and corruption holding back job creation. Most respondents cited migration as the most attractive option. Nepalis are therefore voting with their feet.
The survey shows that Nepalis reject pre-electoral alliances and the tottering coalitions they produce, blaming this for the country having to suffer five revolving door governments in the last five years.&nbsp;
Prime Minister Oli has made it a point to reassert that he will hand over power to Deuba as agreed. Deuba certainly needed reassurance, since his chance at a sixth premiership in these turn-by-turn deals had been scuttled more than once before.&nbsp;
Deuba and Oli don’t get it. The 2022 election with the rise of independent alternatives was an early warning. The Sharecast Initiative survey confirms this disillusionment with serial prime ministers and their cadre and cronies. &nbsp;
Instead, political leaders are too busy putting out (or lighting) fires within their own parties and alliances. The establishment is focused on partnerships, not policy, and this has hurt good governance.
But not everything is doom and gloom. Respondents in the survey have a seemingly contradictory view that despite disappointment with the state of the state, a majority feel the quality of their lives have improved. They are also quite satisfied with the performance of local governments. &nbsp;
And even as elected leaders try increasingly to undermine the legitimacy of the press, and amid a rapidly evolving digital landscape, Nepalis by and large have maintained trust in the mainstream media.&nbsp;
Journalists would do well not take that trust for granted, however. The media is partly responsible for spreading public cynicism and despair. Daily headlines are obsessed with quarrelsome politicians, and its blow-by-blow coverage in turn keeps them quarrelling perpetually.
Positive news does not sell media subscriptions, and social media algorithms feed on fear-mongering, anger and hatred. Politics is not just about who stabbed whom on the back yesterday. Infighting has become so endless that it is to be expected and not breaking news.&nbsp;
Coverage of the Sharecast Initiative survey results by the media last week was followed by vigorous debate on its results. Many on social media were incensed that it dared to show that Nepalis were half-hopeful about the future. Those who agreed that it was not all hopeless were mercilessly trolled. It behooves some to be doomscrollers.
In all this, there was a deafening silence from the &nbsp;political class. Are they even listening to the voice of the people? &nbsp;
They should get hold of a copy of the survey, and chart out a strategy for their future political survival based on that. But we can already tell them the main message: Clean up your act and start delivering.
Shristi Karki

Politics as usual

What began as a joint effort to research Nepal’s natural resources has now become a global representation of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-making-of-kathmandu-valley-style">indigenous craftsmanship</a>, and empowering women. Arati Subba and Samriddhi Gurung were raised in the UK, had years of experience in the fashion industry, and found themselves in Nepal during the Covid-19 pandemic. “I always wanted to explore what Nepal naturally offers,” says Gurung. “After a lot of research, we discovered that beeswax is a biowaste that lasts three times longer than soy or paraffin wax.” She researched the local market for lifestyle products, and found only paraffin candles for sale. So, they thought, why not create beeswax candles?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012011018_dbdf64ffc6c18c926717a2214e902c4e6600e95aa2f2670e614647fe70d6d984.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025012011018_dbdf64ffc6c18c926717a2214e902c4e6600e95aa2f2670e614647fe70d6d984" data-rendition-name="original" width="5472" height="3648" loading="lazy" alt="Reviving Nepal's craft NT"> <figcaption>Arati Subba and Samriddhi Gurung, founders of Riti Studio. Photo: RITI STUDIO</figcaption> </figure>  Together, they set up Riti Studio and have now diversified from candles to grow into a business in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/seams-sustainable">sustainable lifestyle</a> products.&nbsp; Based in Nepal and Hong Kong, Riti's all-women team now also handcrafts candles, incense sticks, and ceramics. It strives to preserve Nepal’s craft traditions. “Do you know how to hand-roll incense sticks by yourself?” Gurung asks. “My grandmother still does it, but neither my mother nor I know how to do that. So, this is an effort to preserve our generational craft, and take it further.” The entrepreneur duo define their approach as ‘slow luxury of artisanal quality’ and collaborate with local artisans. Each ceramic piece, for example, is hand-crafted, reflecting the skill and dedication of those involved.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012011018_db44619728c2f031c8412a86206b6166cff7258796d170df73b8db3b85736ebd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025012011018_db44619728c2f031c8412a86206b6166cff7258796d170df73b8db3b85736ebd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reviving Nepal's craft NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SANGYA LAMSAL</figcaption> </figure>  “Every piece is unique in itself,” says Subba. “The design is the same, but the actual printwork, texture, it is all different.” Sustainability remains a key priority, but financial viability is also important. In the early days, the two scoured nearly every <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/honey-money?s=08">honey shop</a> they could find. Most honey sellers in Nepal also have their own farms where they source raw materials. Their search extended beyond honey, as they also sought local suppliers for ceramics and packaging. After finding the right materials, they sampled to ensure quality. Only then did they move to production and marketing, for which Nepali language was a must.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012011018_55c551fd62ed7dd91c2d511ab1561b76ad3805f7772cfb005bc6eeb133c479ae.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025012011018_55c551fd62ed7dd91c2d511ab1561b76ad3805f7772cfb005bc6eeb133c479ae" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Reviving Nepal's craft NT"> </figure>  “It was really hard to communicate and try to sound smart in Nepali while meeting with the suppliers at first,” she recalls. The language barrier meant some suppliers did not take her seriously in a largely male-dominated society.&nbsp; Things changed when the men started noticing their professionalism. “Now, the men are much more appreciative of who we are, and we are taken more seriously,” adds Gurung. The name Riti comes from the idea of having one’s own little ritual, focusing on self-care and self-love and the Nepali term रीती रिवाज, meaning rituals. When asked if they had any advice for other entrepreneurs just starting out, Gurung says, “You have to put your head down and get to work. Stop listening to the noise outside and stay focused.” Subba pipes in: “Find what interests you, and make something beautiful out of it.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/return-to-nature">Return to nature</a>

Reviving Nepal’s craft

South of Janakpur near the Indian border is the village of Phulgama. Out of its population of 4,500, nearly every household here has at least one son who is a migrant worker abroad.&nbsp; Some 40% of Nepali men between the ages of 20-35 are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/die-first-get-paid-later">migrant workers abroad</a>, mainly in India, the Gulf states or Malaysia. In the last nine months alone, 741,297 people travelled overseas: mostly to the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Malaysia and Kuwait. This does not include those who left on student visas, and there are no records of how many went to India. Most end up working in ‘3D jobs’ — &nbsp;dirty, dangerous and difficult. There is also a fourth D: dehydrating work.&nbsp; Risky outdoor as manual workers, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/too-hot-to-work">excessive heat of the desert in the Gulf</a> or humidity of the tropical jungles of Malaysia, poor diet, dehydration and unhealthy lifestyles all contribute to a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/A-mysterious-rash-of-kidney-failures,3639">higher risk of kidney failure among Nepali migrant workers</a>. Dhanusha district has one of the highest proportions of workers migrating for work to India and abroad. Nephrologists call kidney disease ‘the silent killer’ because patients do not show symptoms until it is too late, and migrant workers are especially susceptible to Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD) or End-Stage Renal Disease (ESRD).&nbsp; Increasing demand for cheap labour and minimum pre-departure health awareness training makes migration more risky than it should be. From a survey of hospitals and dialysis centres in Dhanusha and Kathmandu, the risk of kidney failure<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal"> appears higher among male migrant workers</a> than in Nepali men of the same age group.&nbsp; “This disease is idiopathic, meaning it is not caused by one specific factor,” explains Rishi Kafle of the National Kidney Center Nepal. “But after screening migrant workers going to the Gulf and developing End-Stage Renal Disease in 3-4 years, we can say that migration increases the likelihood of kidney failure.” Kafle adds: “Because of the need to maximise earnings, working in extreme heat for long hours dehydrates them. And many opt for Coca-Cola and meat instead of healthier water and vegetables.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_b86cd132e88fecad9cde6d6faa648f76b40979660e6d28e846b25469668df9d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250118070128_b86cd132e88fecad9cde6d6faa648f76b40979660e6d28e846b25469668df9d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>All photos: PINKI SRIS RANA</figcaption> </figure>  While the risk of kidney failure is higher in returnee migrant workers in Nepal, the disease is on the rise globally due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sick-of-it">lifestyle changes,</a> diabetes or undiagnosed hypertension. Currently, there are 28,266 kidney patients enrolled in the <a href="https://dohs.gov.np/">Department of Health Services</a> for free treatment under the government’s <a href="https://mohp.gov.np/program/medical-treatment-of-deprived-citizens/np">Bipanna Nagarik Kosh</a>, of which 17,044 are male and 11,222 female. Just in the past year, 9,176 more patients were added to the fund. Most hospitalised kidney patients are from age 15-65. In a healthy person, toxins and waste in the blood are filtered by the kidneys. But patients with kidney failure need to circulate their blood regularly through a haemodialysis machine. The whole process takes about 3-4 hours and causes blood vessels in the arms to swell over time. Nearly 2 million Nepalis suffer from chronic kidney disease (CKD), which is about 8% of the population. The rise in diabetes and hypertension is contributing to an increase in the disease. Everyone from migrant workers to many of Nepal’s top politicians suffer from kidney failure. Prime Minister Oli himself has had two kidney transplants. Even with dialysis twice a week, some patients develop nausea, swelling and other problems when they eat or drink. The extra dialysis sessions cost money, and the livelihood allowance given to patients is never enough or timely. Not every migrant working in hot climates returns with kidney disease, but a recent yet-to-be-published study led by nephrologist Sailendra Sharma states that one-fourth of all kidney patients in Nepal are migrant returnees. It points to recurrent heat stress as a primary risk factor. The<a href="https://mihs.edu.np/"> Madhesh Institution of Health Sciences</a> in Janakpur has 103 regular patients who come for dialysis. Of them, 30 are returnee migrants not just from Dhanusha, but also Sarlahi, Siraha, Mahottari and Sindhuli. “Not by the nature of the disease, but the way kidney disease is growing, I would call it an epidemic,” adds Kafle. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_43731248e116cfdc42bfc08b8f7d71e5ff3d44b938065a5ad9e9a337e666b9c7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250118070128_43731248e116cfdc42bfc08b8f7d71e5ff3d44b938065a5ad9e9a337e666b9c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1463" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>HARD LABOUR: Jagdish Sah shows a picture from his time in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  Jagdish Sah left for Malaysia ten years ago. He had taken a loan for his sister’s marriage and he had to pay it back. As the eldest son, he was also expected to get married next, but he faced multiple rejections. “Women have expectations too. They want to get married to well-to-do families. They didn’t want to get married to a family that lived in a mud house like ours,” says Sah, now 35. Foreign employment was a one-stop solution to his problems. Or so he thought. Sah was 24 when he left for a tailoring job at a garment factory in Malaysia. He often worked overtime, sometimes up to 12 hours a day in the hopes of earning extra ringgits. Even so, his highest monthly income would only be Rs35,000.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_7dd5030951c805302adec46afdef623bbdbb6fe1c0f12b7a77fd612531865af1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250118070128_7dd5030951c805302adec46afdef623bbdbb6fe1c0f12b7a77fd612531865af1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1536" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>Sah at a garment factory in Malaysia where he worked, often dehydrated, and not taking toilet breaks to earn more.</figcaption> </figure>  Workers got a 30-minute break for lunch, and there were limited toilet breaks. So, Sah just worked straight out. Back in Nepal for a break in 2017, Sah had blurred vision and fainted. He thought it was high blood pressure, but a few months later at age 28, he was diagnosed with double kidney failure. “Whatever he saved in Malaysia went for his treatment in Kathmandu. We even sold a plot of our land,” recalled Sah’s mother, Mantoriya Devi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_dc353dd6ce449c05bda6d562907dd961d8900c1b747dc4afec1680bb65b805b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250118070128_dc353dd6ce449c05bda6d562907dd961d8900c1b747dc4afec1680bb65b805b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="3995" height="2871" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>Sah is now gaunt and frail in this picture taken duing his biweekly dialysis at Madhesh Institute of Health Sciences in Janakpur recently.</figcaption> </figure>  Sah drives his motorcycle twice a week from his village to the Madhesh Institute of Health Sciences in Janakpur for free dialysis. His family says it is as if the Jagdish who went to Malaysia and the one who came back are two different people. &nbsp; “This disease has already doomed my life. Why ruin someone else’s?” says Sah of his lack of marriage prospects. “It is because of dialysis that I have survived so far.” His parents are too old and occupied with their chores to accompany him. Since Jagdish cannot work, his father, Ram Dev sells popcorn by the sidewalk from a wheeled cart. Mithu Kumar went to Saudi Arabia to work as an electrical supervisor two years ago. He was 25. Recently when he started vomiting, he was taken to a local hospital. He was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease and was sent back to Nepal. As Kumar lays down for his dialysis treatment at Save Lives Hospital in Janakpur, he says, “My only wish is that I am healthy enough to work again.”&nbsp; Umesh Kumar Yadav also worked in Saudi Arabia as a guard. He returned with chronic kidney disease, but he says he is the only one to contract the ailment among all the returnees from his village. “Only the ill-fated people have this disease,” says Yadav. “Otherwise, it would have been the same for every other person from the village who is abroad working.” Ambar Bahadur Sarki, 46, travels from Sindhuli for three hours every Monday and Thursday to Janakpur for his free dialysis at the Madesh Institute of Health Sciences. Sarki worked in a palm oil plantation in Malaysia, where heat stress often exceeded the wet-bulb threshold for heat and humidity. “It was extremely hot at all times,” he remembers. He first got hypertension, which made both his kidneys fail. Ram Udgar Mandal from Dhanusha started working in Saudi Arabia in his late twenties. He spent the next 17 years in the desert working as a driver. Now in his late forties, he was diagnosed with End-Stage Renal Disease (ESRD) four years ago.&nbsp; But this is an intergenerational cycle. Mandal’s son has now also gone to Malaysia to supplement the family income. He fears his son will meet the same fate as him. “We do not have a choice, do we?” he says. Lalit Balampaki, 28, from Dhanusa was diagnosed with ESRD a year earlier in Dubai. He stays in Kathmandu along with his older brother’s family on a rented floor. Balampaki worked in extreme heat conditions in a smelting factory in Dubai. He had to work night shifts twice or thrice a week. Sleep deprivation and extended periods without food were part of his daily routine. The pay was good, but his savings have all gone now towards hospital fees. “More than the money, I earned the disease,” says Balampaki. &nbsp; Suraj Thapa Magar, 30, was the sole breadwinner of his family. He installed aluminum windows and doors in Kuwait “It was the hottest in summer and coldest in winter,” says Magar, who worked for 10 hours a day even in 50°C. He also often neglected hydration, and one night he vomited blood. At 26, he was diagnosed with ESRD and has been in Nepal ever since. Thapa has no other choice than to rely on the Rs5,000 allowance, but even that is not timely and not enough. He has to take loans to travel for his dialysis. The government hospitals are supposed to provide some medicines for free, but they are often out of stock. Thapa has looked for jobs, but kidney disease is a stigma and no one wants to hire him. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*** In 2016, Nepal started providing free hemodialysis treatment for the poorest patients. Two years later, a monthly livelihood allowance of Rs5,000 was to be distributed to patients suffering from chronic diseases like dual-kidney failure and cancer. Free dialysis is provided in 107 hospitals across the country, but that is only in theory. Many facilities do not have nephrologists because the government does not provide salaries. The machines also often are not working because they need constant maintenance. Among the 11 hospitals that provide free dialysis in Madhes Province, three are in Janakpur. Nepali Times visited the enlisted hospitals but there were no nephrologists to supervise the treatment, and they were run by general physicians or senior nurses.&nbsp; “The government does not provide adequate salaries for the nephrologists,” says Kafle. “That is why nephrologists are mainly affiliated with the private hospitals.” Bagmati Province has 44 hospitals with free dialysis, which is why many dual-kidney failure patients have opted to live in Kathmandu. The hospitals service over 8,000 kidney patients.&nbsp; Since most of them are migrant workers, the end result is that Nepal’s poorly-resourced health system ends up bearing the cost of treating kidneys that failed while working as labourers in hot, rich countries. &nbsp;

Dirty, Dangerous, Difficult ... and Dehydrating

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Nepal’s diverse culture uses the bamboo plant for birth, death and all rituals in between. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4149" target="_blank">versatile plant</a> is also used for construction, to make musical instruments, to carry things, to write with, even to eat. Now, bamboo groves are being used to protect villages near Chitwan National Park that are prone to frequent flooding due to climate breakdown. It is the smaller streams that are dry in winter that are the most destructive during the monsoon. So, farmers in the village of Madi are planting bamboo forests along the banks of streams that block floods and stop soil erosion. “Once the rainy season starts, we are afraid to close our eyes at night,” says Shanti Chapai, 58, who lives near the Patare Khola stream that burst its banks last year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131050140_921fabc56d34ec46d63c9e2c959ae6c8e0fb8f713c817263bba23b8167d31331.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250131050140_921fabc56d34ec46d63c9e2c959ae6c8e0fb8f713c817263bba23b8167d31331" data-rendition-name="original" width="2237" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Versatile bamboo reduces climate risk NT"> <figcaption>Google Earth images show the greening the floodplain of the Patare Khola over 15 years. Photos courtesy: ABARI</figcaption> </figure>  On a recent visit, the Patare Khola was just a small stream, it is hard to imagine that it would become a raging river in the rainy season, bursting its banks and threatening farms and settlements. Despite bamboo having everyday use for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/basket-case-pahari-badikhel,3340" target="_blank">fencing, furniture and an important cash crop</a>, farmers here were initially opposed to the idea of using it for flood control. They thought bamboo was an invasive species, and sucked up all the groundwater.&nbsp; But for the past 15 years, the architects at ABARI (Adobe and Bamboo Research Institute) have been experimenting with a thorny bamboo species like Bambusa bluemeana and Bambusa balcooa to restore degraded land and control floods. The area is now a dense bamboo grove greening the floodplain of the Patare Khola.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131050140_5be5c23532b33a9b6edceabc91dbac03eb9009d6d50a271fccc5854cdce337a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250131050140_5be5c23532b33a9b6edceabc91dbac03eb9009d6d50a271fccc5854cdce337a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Versatile bamboo reduces climate risk NT"> <figcaption>Thorny bamboo species planted in Madi. Photos: PINKI SRIS RANA</figcaption> </figure>  Sediment from last monsoon’s floods are deposited at the foot of the bamboo trees, proving that the plants stabilised the banks, protecting the surroundings by reducing the velocity of flood waters. Madi’s villagers are now convinced that this is an effective bioengineering solution to floods. Bamboo is also fast-growing, and is ideal for reclaiming the eroded banks of rivers. Nepal has more than 50 species of bamboo, most of them found in the wetter eastern plains and foothills. But some species grow at altitudes of up to 4,000. “Bamboo is a misunderstood plant in our culture because it is used for funeral rites and has a negative connotation,” says Nripal Adhikary ABARI, which builds bamboo and rammed earth buildings in Nepal. “It took a while to convince locals of its benefits.” Monsoons in Nepal have always been synonymous with disasters, but extreme weather events caused by climate breakdown have made landslides and floods worse. Poor construction of roads, unregulated quarrying of sensitive watersheds, and encroachment along floodplains increase the risk.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131050140_348bd5586ddfa1444699535bcbeb98420c42645e796fb896d609bbb3d2e82ee3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250131050140_348bd5586ddfa1444699535bcbeb98420c42645e796fb896d609bbb3d2e82ee3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1793" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Versatile bamboo reduces climate risk NT"> <figcaption>Porcupine structured embankments provide protection in flood prone areas. </figcaption> </figure>  But here in Madi, villagers have seen with their own eyes the direct benefit of bamboo for flood protection. Says farmer Phadendra Bhattarai: “Even though there was heavy rainfall, the extent of flood damage this monsoon was considerably less. The bamboo acted as a barrier and did not let the floods destroy our crops.”&nbsp; This tried and tested bamboo plantation can be replicated and upscaled across Nepal, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-villages-cope-with-climate-induced-floods" target="_blank">farmers in Kanchanpur</a> in the western plains have also planted bamboo, napier and elephant grass along the banks of a river that unleashed destructive floods in 2018. A thick strategic bamboo plantation can be made into a fence of porcupine structured embankment to provide protection in flood prone areas. Floods in September in central Nepal killed<a href="https://www.bipad.gov.np/uploads/publication_pdf/SitRep_2_-_2024_September_Floods_and_Landslides.pdf" target="_blank"> 224 people</a> with southern Lalitpur and Kavre being hardest hit. The<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-flood-of-tears-on-the-rosi" target="_blank"> Rosi Valley</a> in Kavre was devastated, and settlements swept away entire slopes. But an area in the vicinity with bamboo plantation remained intact (pictured below).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131050140_edad071950f688ab95ff67450168a147f0f5f6d902cc8f468fc5bc540a912951.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250131050140_edad071950f688ab95ff67450168a147f0f5f6d902cc8f468fc5bc540a912951" data-rendition-name="original" width="1784" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Versatile bamboo reduces climate risk NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SAILESH RC</figcaption> </figure>  Dhaneswar Baikiya Community Forest in Kavre is half a hectare of plot bamboo planted by the government in a pilot project in 2007 to study and research the moso bamboo Phyllostachys pubescens. It has been 17 years and the Ministry of Forests and Environment’s Forest Research and Training Center had long forgotten about it. “Although no research has not been done here specifically in the plot, it is precisely this bamboo forest that saved villages down the mountains from major destruction,” says Badri Adhikari, custodian of the Community Forest. “Their expansive and entangled roots hold the soil firmly, protecting the slope’s stability.” This plot may have been overlooked but there have been other efforts. All 12 districts of Lumbini province<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/province-no-5/2021/07/01/lumbini-turns-to-bamboo-to-tame-rivers" target="_blank"> have initiated a bamboo plantation campaign</a> to prevent erosion and flooding.&nbsp; Traditionally, too, bamboo is believed to control landslides, and it is not uncommon to see villagers along the mountains reviving depleted bamboo groves once they see its benefits. Bsides landslide protection, the bamboo also has many other uses. Says Badri Adhikari: “The bamboo tree grows upwards in height during the summer and its roots expand in the winter. So, winter is the right time to prepare for the next monsoon of damaging floods.” 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/20250131060116_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250131060116_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

Versatile bamboo reduces climate risk

Despite countries amassing huge atomic arsenals, one reason deterrence has worked since the end of World War II, according to proponents, is that all-out nuclear war is so unthinkable.&nbsp; Yet, with no end in sight to fighting in Ukraine and West Asia, a new Cold War that pits US vs Russia and China, and the second coming of an erratic American president, have all made nuclear conflict thinkable in 2025 and beyond. Russia has repeatedly threatened the use of nuclear weapons against Ukraine and last month fired a new hypersonic intermediate-range ballistic missile at the Dnipro. And it has put into orbit a new <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2024/12/05/opinion/nuclear-weapons-space.html" target="_blank">prototype satellite</a> that can knock out other satellites with a nuclear explosion in space.&nbsp; Donald Trump and Benjamin Netyanyahu have reportedly spoken about a joint strike on Iranian nuclear installations. North Korea has been testing long range missiles for its nuclear warheads. Tensions remain high between nuclear-armed India and Pakistan. These dangers come on top of signs of accelerated climate breakdown with weather extremes, record-breaking heat, and rapid melting of polar icecaps and Himalayan glaciers. ‘The world-ending potential of nuclear weapons looms over populations around the world,’ writes Cameron Vega in <a href="https://thebulletin.org/2023/11/the-climate-blind-spot-in-nuclear-weapons-policy/" target="_blank">Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists</a>. ‘Climate change is a slower-moving catastrophe, but it openly threatens every community.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226081236_8ebdd11d4d252d449b0347548372e1649de3637e1947f75609909bbf26d00555.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241226081236_8ebdd11d4d252d449b0347548372e1649de3637e1947f75609909bbf26d00555" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="533" loading="lazy" alt="Thinking the thinkable NT"> </figure>  The Bulletin’s <a href="https://thebulletin.org/doomsday-clock/" target="_blank">Doomsday Clock</a> was reset to 90 seconds before midnight (from 100 seconds) in January this year due to ‘ominous trends that continue to point the world toward global catastrophe’. The minute hand on the Doomsday Clock has been reset 25 times since 1947, and it is most likely be brought forward to less than a minute in 2025. &nbsp; Both climate breakdown and nuclear war are human induced, but while one is heating up the planet the smoke and dust from explosions of the other will cool it. Either way, both threats are inextricably linked.&nbsp; Even the tactical use of battlefield nuclear weapons would have a climate impact. And climate-induced disasters, crop failures, water shortage, mass migration and ensuing socio-political unrest could spark wars that go nuclear. This is without even considering the long term effect of radioactive fallout on land, water and sea. <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43016-022-00573-0" target="_blank">Research at Rutgers University</a> recently projected that even a one-week nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan would cause the collapse of food systems worldwide, killing 2 billion people from starvation. Prevailing winds would carry the fallout to the Himalaya and Tibetan Plateau, irradiating glaciers that feed into all of Asia’s main rivers. An all-out nuclear war between the United States and Russia would cause a nuclear winter lasting more than 15 years, the study showed, unleashing a global famine that would kill 5 billion people.&nbsp; Anti-nuclear activists now challenge the security paradigm based on nuclear deterrence, and have instead pushed for a ban on nuclear weapons. At a meeting on the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons at the United Nations in New York last December, members declared that the doctrine of deterrence used by nuclear-armed states and their allies was a threat to human security and an obstacle to nuclear disarmament.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226081236_407d70a5620963d36f53e2c5718e0e12aad446374f358fb4b574701ee1f03e14.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241226081236_407d70a5620963d36f53e2c5718e0e12aad446374f358fb4b574701ee1f03e14" data-rendition-name="original" width="667" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Thinking the thinkable NT"> </figure>  The meeting heard that deterrence is an unproven gamble and based on the implicit threat to use nuclear weapons which itself is playing brinkmanship with nuclear annihilation. “Deterrence is unacceptable,” stated Melissa Parke of <a href="https://www.icanw.org/people_and_structure" target="_blank">ICAN ((International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons)</a>. “It is based on the threat to wage nuclear war which would kill millions outright and lead to a nuclear winter and mass starvation that would kill billions of people.”&nbsp; ICAN was awarded the <a href="https://www.icanw.org/nobel_prize" target="_blank">Nobel Peace Prize in 2017</a> for its activism against the catastrophic humanitarian consequences of any use of atomic weapons, and its work to push the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons.&nbsp; It has been 50 years since the discussions on a draft of the <a href="http://www.un.org/disarmament/WMD/Nuclear/NPTtext.shtml" target="_blank">Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT)</a> was first held in Geneva. The NPT entered into force in 1970, and has the membership of <a href="http://disarmament.un.org/treaties/t/npt" target="_blank">191 States</a>, with mandatory obligations on disarmament and non-proliferation.&nbsp; However, these commitments are now threatened by a new Cold War and increased global tensions. Nine nuclear weapon states have total stockpiles of 14,500 warheads, many of them on missiles ready to be launched. Three countries in Nepal’s immediate neighbourhood (China, India, Pakistan) have nuclear weapons, and they do not share good relations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226081236_cb12ff19e7ad0691773a0cc4a74b4f2b699832495aa90e5dc21462a287f11dcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20241226081236_cb12ff19e7ad0691773a0cc4a74b4f2b699832495aa90e5dc21462a287f11dcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1232" height="513" loading="lazy" alt="Doomsday clock"> </figure>  Of the five regions around the world that have declared themselves nuclear weapons free, three are in Asia: Central Asia, Mongolia and the South Pacific. The <a href="https://www.unrcpd.org/about/" target="_blank">United Nations Regional Centre for Peace and Disarmament in Asia and the Pacific (UNRCPD)</a> is located in Kathmandu and helps countries to meet disarmament goals. A report titled <a href="https://www.ippnw.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/ENGLISH-Nuclear-Famine-Report-Final-bleed-marks.pdf" target="_blank">Nuclear Famine</a> by the group <a href="https://www.ippnw.org/programs/nuclear-weapons-abolition/nuclear-famine-climate-effects-of-regional-nuclear-war" target="_blank">International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War</a> sounds a sobering alarm: even a limited nuclear war using only 100 weapons anywhere in the world would disrupt the global climate and agricultural production, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89_d9AFmk9Y&amp;t=83s" target="_blank">put 2 billion people at risk of starvation</a>. Coincidentally, 2 billion is also the number of people who would be affected by the melting of glaciers in the mountains of High Asia, according to the <a href="https://hkh.icimod.org/hi-wise/" target="_blank">International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a>. Given the twin global threats, climate activism now has to go hand-in-hand with the campaign to abolish nuclear weapons.&nbsp; Kunda Dixit This Editorial 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.

Thinking the thinkable

Kathmandu Valley got half its annual average rainfall in 36 hours on 28 September last year, unleashing deadly floods. Since then, there has not been a drop of rain. A prolonged winter drought in central and eastern Nepal has sparked off an early start to the annual wildfire season, with multiple fires reported across the country, including around Kathmandu Valley. A NASA Fire Information Resource Management System (FIRMS) infra-red satellite image on 20 January at noon shows at least 85 fires burning across the country, even in the western mountains which have seen snow and rain in the past weeks.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012016014_449f06b054e16c05ee21daed90505441beedda84df17d8036c7076ded32ff158.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025012016014_449f06b054e16c05ee21daed90505441beedda84df17d8036c7076ded32ff158" data-rendition-name="original" width="2590" height="1308" loading="lazy" alt="wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>A NASA FIRMS image taken on 20 January at noon pinpointing wildfires all over Nepal. The ones visible from Kathmandu were the multiple fires below Ganesh Himal in Dolakha, an out of control fire in Langtang National Park and a new fire that started on Chandragiri Ridge southwest of Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  Usually, such fires are lit by grazers in early spring to ensure that new shoots sprout from the ashes when the rains come. But lack of soil moisture and high winds have fanned flames which have quickly spread up the slopes. Nepal has doubled its forest cover in the past 30 years to 46% of its area. Depopulation of the mountain districts also means that with less harvesting of deadwood and leaves for fodder, forests have accumulated a lot of flammable dry undergrowth.&nbsp; Several westerly systems have passed through Nepal, but most have dumped much of the precipitation in the west of the country.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012016014_29c2695e53d5c044a11c3276874fffd2c6cb0fe26b43343cd78b60cb20f53ffb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025012016014_29c2695e53d5c044a11c3276874fffd2c6cb0fe26b43343cd78b60cb20f53ffb" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>Smoke from multiple fires in Dhading shroud Ganesh Himal in brown smoke on Sunday afternoon, as seen from the south-east corner of Kathmandu Valley. ALL PHOTOS: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) has been monitoring the wildfires, but besides expressing concern about the lack of rain and counting the number of fires, there has not been much by way of preparation. Fire prevention needs a nationwide awareness campaign and enforcement, but it is difficult to monitor fires when they are 5,000m up the mountains. When even countries like the US find it difficult to fight fires like the ones that ravaged Los Angeles in the past week, Nepal just does not have the resources to fight rapidly spreading fires in remote mountainous terrain.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012016018_425e285eb9abf9922efc480c7006065e8c900af413c55c3276c5384dacd65c57.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025012016018_425e285eb9abf9922efc480c7006065e8c900af413c55c3276c5384dacd65c57" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>A fiery sunset on Chandragiri Ridge southwest of Kathmandu on Monday evening.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012016018_873e4ce3492476a1ecc8fa9778b08fd21995511b35dd2d5ddf4c8660677008ae.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025012016018_873e4ce3492476a1ecc8fa9778b08fd21995511b35dd2d5ddf4c8660677008ae" data-rendition-name="original" width="1882" height="620" loading="lazy" alt="wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>A wide angle view of the Ganesh Himal and Langtang Ranges with red circles showing multiple fires on Sunday evening.</figcaption> </figure>  Last spring saw a record number of wildfires across the country in April-May, many of them lasting days and blanketing the sky with smoke. The reason then was also an exceptionally dry winter. When soot particles from wildfire smoke and air pollution are deposited on glaciers and snowfields in the mountains, they cause them to melt faster because of the reduction in their reflectivity. This year, Nepalis and visitors to Nepal have been greeted by iconic mountains like Machapuchre, Annapurna and Gauri Shankar devoid of snow cover looking like black pyramids.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012016018_c09d70e61008de3999598cefd43aba027f4faa101c3a011d32226577b6be7aec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025012016018_c09d70e61008de3999598cefd43aba027f4faa101c3a011d32226577b6be7aec" data-rendition-name="original" width="2268" height="4032" loading="lazy" alt="wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>The Langtang fire was still burning on Monday morning.</figcaption> </figure>

Wildfire season starts early in Nepal

Frontpage topic

High tech firms are power hungry, and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">climate crisis</a> is driving them to seek <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-can-lead-in-zero-carbon">renewable sources of energy</a>. Nepal’s surplus electricity generation capacity coincides with this surge in global demand to power generative AI data centres. Data centres have become major drivers of electricity demand globally in the last two years, but the lack of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-electric-transport-future-is-here">clean energy</a> remains a major hurdle to expansion. Along with coverage area and number of racks, a key parameter to measure use of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">information technology </a>in each country is the amount of power they use1 for data centres. For example, the US currently uses 50MW of data centres per million people compared to just 1MW in India. In Nepal, investment in data centres have just begun. About 1.5% of global electricity is currently going to power data centres and data transmission. Improvements in IT hardware, efficient cooling methods, and gains from the shift to efficient cloud and hyperscale data centres have allowed growth in energy demand to remain small even as data centre services have grown significantly since 2010. After 2022 this picture has begun to break down due to the exponential growth in power requirements for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-in-the-decade-of-ai">AI </a>which far exceeds accompanying gains in energy efficiency.&nbsp; The growth of AI applications was made possible by breakthroughs in Deep Neural Network models and hardware to run them, enabling image recognition and generation, natural language processing and many other previously<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/it-is-all-about-it-in-nepal,3887"> ‘high-compute applications’</a> which required a lot of computational power. These advances laid the groundwork for large language models such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/chatgpt-news-about-nepal">GPT</a>-4o (OpenAI), Claude (Anthropic), Gemini (Google), Llama-3 (Meta/Facebook), Grok (xAI) among others. The growth of large language models and generative AI has changed the role of data centres from managing content, data storage and data processing to training large AI models and running AI inference to serve user applications from those models. But training <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-bhasa-on-google-translate">AI models</a> is compute-intensive, and requires high-powered hardware. Similarly, AI inference, which involves using trained models to make predictions based on new data, also demands significant energy due to the large and increasing number of user applications served by AI models. According to Bloomberg Intelligence, growth in investment into generative AI is expected to push data-centre electricity use by 4-10 times from current levels by 2030. Companies such as Google and Microsoft are already consuming as much electricity as The Netherlands. Many of the largest companies have also made ‘net-zero’ commitments, to generate no net greenhouse gas emissions by 2050, which they are struggling to uphold due to this unexpected increase in energy demand to power data centres.Big tech is therefore sourcing power from all the clean energy sources they can find: wind, solar and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/missing-pieces-of-the-hydropower-jigsaw">hydropower</a>. They have even invested in nuclear power plants to power AI data centres. As demand rises, companies will be looking for new geographies with abundant clean energy. Could this new reality present an opportunity for Nepal to market its surplus clean energy from hydropower and solar? The country could promote itself as a destination for data centres, as Bhutan is doing with its Gelephu Mindfulness City. Nepal’s data infrastructure, even including NEA and Ncell Axiata data centres, is not well developed. &nbsp;The recently announced partnership between the Chaudhary Group’s BLC Holdings, and India’s Yotta Data Services to build Nepal’s first supercloud 4MW data centre in Ramkot could pave the way for private sector investment into data centres in Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250120140144_dae5f9c304943d4efb156a9930b0ca1894b2f6b915abeb6c30d510e0f246e4a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250120140144_dae5f9c304943d4efb156a9930b0ca1894b2f6b915abeb6c30d510e0f246e4a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="NEA"> <figcaption>Distribution System Control and Data Centre of Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) in Siuchatar in Kathmandu. Photo: SONIA AWALE</figcaption> </figure>  Yotta already runs some of the largest hyperscale data centres in Mumbai and Delhi, and this investment could allow the company to be the provider of digital services in the Subcontinent’s high growth IT sector. To catch up with per capita IT services at the level of India, Nepal would need seven more Ramkot-sized data centres using about 30MW of power. With its readily available clean energy and proximity to large population centres in Northern India and Bangladesh, Nepal could in theory provide the compute infrastructure necessary to power the future AI training and inference services for local applications and markets.&nbsp; To provide IT services at the level that the US population currently consumes, Nepal would need 1,500MW of power just to power data centres for its own needs. While this is unlikely to happen anytime soon, Nepal could opportunistically provide data centre services for the upcoming AI needs of some of the 500 million people living in the Ganges basin. India is already a regional powerhouse in data centres and has about 1,600MW of capacity, and generative AI is estimated to push computational requirements with power needs expected to grow between 25-30% each year through to 2030. With the right investment climate, and the necessary investment into fibre optic infrastructure and IT parks, Nepal could leverage its plentiful power supply advantage to offer locations for a portion of this investment.&nbsp; This would provide a much needed boost to Nepal’s ongoing efforts to establish itself as a technology hub and provide jobs to the 15,000 IT professionals that are being trained in the country each year. Data centres are one part of a larger technology ecosystem. AI model training and maintenance require skilled expertise in every industry from finance, to train fraud detection models, to healthcare, to label X-ray and MRI images and test results and diagnostic data to build intelligent medical tools, and to the legal sector, to supervise generated contract documents. NTC’s recently installed XGPON network standard that can deliver up to 10 Gbps downstream speed and 2.5 Gbps upstream does provide the basic level of connectivity needed for AI applications, but it is only available in Kathmandu and needs to be expanded to other urban centres. Nepal’s investment climate for private companies remains far from ideal, and government regulations need to be relaxed to allow global companies and non-resident Nepalis to bring in investment to take full advantage of this new <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/digital-connectivity">digital infrastructure</a>. Amrit R Pant contributed with AI expertise while writing the article. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal.

Nepal as an AI power bank

If you grew up under the influence of Bollywood films, it is likely they shaped your idea of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hop-over-the-gender-gap">masculinity</a>. One, fuelled by the portrayal of the man as the protector, the creator and the embodiment of strength, and fury.&nbsp;
Growing up in a middle-class South Asian family, the media access I was given was chosen by the men in the family--they were the ones in charge of the VCR and the remote control. Men had more knowledge of technology than women did because of their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/taking-wealth-out-of-health">access to wealth</a>, education, public spaces and thereby, technology itself!
The selection of films that were brought home were mostly masculine. (Visiting cinemas was not really a thing for the middle-class in those days.) There were many <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Lights-camera-copy-paste,1146">mainstream Bollywood films</a>, but there were also Hollywood entries about boxing rings, war planes and gadgets, and some love. And they were films primarily produced and directed by men.
Looking back, there is a pattern that stands out. Men were mostly angry even when in love and eager to break or to be broken in order to protect who they loved. Women were either vamps and villains, or they were coy, demure beings, subject to rape more often than not. Such scenes of sexual violence were not censored for children. And there were suggestive bedroom scenes, where hands came together in a clasp and you wondered as a child what it meant when a man and a woman strung their fingers together against the bedside table or the headboard. There was no sanitised version of the world for five-year-olds in the 1980s South Asia.
The impressions one collected from the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-qfx-cinema-needs-a-happy-ending">cinema</a> was that women need protection and men are either rapists and killers, or breadwinners and protectors. This impression was partly derived from the society around us, but also fed back to it so that the men in the audience learned to emulate those traits. A full circle.
Even when in love, it was expected of men to pursue women they liked in the most unbecoming ways. Public confrontations and suggestive remarks bordering on harassment were acceptable. If a man wanted a woman, he would follow and corner her, and the woman would be forced to cave in. This would end in marriage. Essentially, it legitimised marrying the stalker/rapist.
From that terribly long lead, spanning across several paragraphs, I will briefly make a case for the men in my family, who tried to change what we saw on screen. My grandfather passed away last year, but all the years of his active life, here’s what I witnessed: He would make tea and toast for my grandmother and himself in the morning, then brunch (usually daal-bhat) and then walk several miles to his office at a hydropower station, while my grandmother attended her hospital duties as a nurse. Back home in the evening, he would play his sitar and then they would cook dinner together, eat together, drink together. Looking back, I marvel at the simplicity of it all.
My father, probably inspired by my grandfather, wakes the house up gently every morning with the sound of the kettle coming to boil and omelettes sizzling in the pan. My mother cooks lunch, and we all take turns cooking dinner. On many occasions, my friends have been surprised at seeing my father in the kitchen. This is not the norm <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-should-be-open-for-south-asia">in South Asia</a>. The message my father sends out, especially to my male friends who frequent our home, is a clear one-- household work is shared among the family, even the men.
Recently, a family friend invited me over for lunch. That day, he was the cook and the cleaner and he set before me a perfectly-delectable meal. He is one of the friends who grew up watching my father cook for the family.
With what was a scattered nut graph, I shall now return to the matter at hand-- the media. There were gods on TV when I was growing up, and the endless family drama that represented life in South Asia in glamourised versions. Women were told to be good, and men were told to take control. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tv-or-not-tv">TV</a> was an apparatus to impose a certain kind of understanding of nationalism, society and culture.
By the time we moved past the Civil War, Nepal had opened up to the world of films beyond Hollywood and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16996">Bollywood</a> and the Pakistani and Japanese TV serials donated by their governments. We had gained Korean films.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/min-bahadur-bham-s-cinematic-quest">Min Bahadur Bham’s cinematic quest</a>, Abishek Budhathoki
Right now, there’s a world open before us through cinemas from across the globe. And interestingly, Korean drama is one of the most popularly streamed genres. The youth take cues from them for fashion and lifestyle as well as relationships. While men who protect women are a vital part of Korean drama, the women portrayed are also more visible and vocal. They are often seen standing up to men, even getting physical with them on occasion and often rising above their male peers in the workplace.
But what also catches one’s eye is the metrosexual look that men now carry with such ease in Korean shows. It has made aesthetic more appealing for many Asian men, who feel represented on screen. It has become possible for men to be pretty and feminine, to reject the hyper-masculine ethos.
I’m fascinated by the portrayal of men who cry unabashedly, who express love and sadness, who breakdown, but also care for the women in their lives. In all of this, the line between genders blur in a surprisingly seamless way. And that’s the kind of men, we want to love. Men, who push against the idea of masculinity that has been thrust upon us for generations. Men who break free of the mould of expected appearance and behaviour needed to validate their gender.
The scene of seduction of Ser Criston Cole by Rhaenyra in the HBO series, House of the Dragon comes to mind. In the episode written by Ira Parker and directed by Clare Kilner, the portrayal of Cole is one of a man of honour and strength, but there is no dearth of tenderness. In the scene of seduction, there is no sexualisation or objectification of the woman, which points to the difference in gaze. The female gaze views the man, not as being a representation of aggression or purely a sex object, but as someone who has compassion and kindness and is therefore, desirable. This is in stark contrast to the male-directed films discussed above, where male gaze highlighted violence as the height of masculinity.
Characters we meet on screen go a long way in shaping our ideals and perspectives. The representations of men who dash the traditional idea of masculinity, and are comfortable in who they are and can be, go a long way in shaping a better world.
There need not be categories to slot men into, as long as we move forward from aggression as a sign of masculinity and cease to perceive softness and kindness as a sign of being ‘unmanly’. Let men endorse that love is fluid and is not bound by the expectations of gender. Let men live free of the burden to carry themselves a certain way, except with the tenderness each one of them brings forth into this world.
Republished from the original in the Articulate, a Konrad Adanaeur Stiftung (KAS) with permission.&nbsp;
Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

The tenderness in men

One of the government’s first priorities after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/feudal-federalism">federalism</a> was to bring development to the grassroots. The political leadership concluded that the way to do that was to build a road network. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/bri-and-trans-himalayan-connectivity">Road connectivity </a>would encourage Nepalis to stay in their villages, connect farmers to market, and stimulate local economies. so they thought. As the roads snaked north into the mountains, Nepalis moved south to the plains along them. Nepal's new roads have become conduits for better opportunities in the cities, the Tarai and abroad. Since 2016, every road that has reached villages in the hinterland has helped empty them. Billions of rupees were spent on roads to improve the lives of people who do not live there anymore. According to the 2021 census, 34 of Nepal’s 77 districts have witnessed a sharp decline in population. More worryingly, there is depopulation in 329 out of Nepal’s 753 municipalities, which is 43% of the country’s geography.&nbsp; It seems there is an inverse relationship between roads and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migration</a>. This is evident in districts like Ramechhap and Khotang, with the highest <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-males-and-population-decline">population decline</a> as road connectivity spread.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250117050148_18c4f94ff08ab3654d29548d6e87974796ab42b985c64062d04c555f125f051d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250117050148_18c4f94ff08ab3654d29548d6e87974796ab42b985c64062d04c555f125f051d" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="384" loading="lazy" alt="Khotang"> </figure>  Despite its proximity to Kathmandu, the first motorised vehicle only arrived in Ramechhap in 1998. The district was cut off from the road network until a little over three decades ago, and its population was 188,064 during the 1991 census.&nbsp; By the time unpaved roads were built-district wide in 2001, the population had increased by 1.2%. But in the 20 years since, as paved roads and a bridge across the Sunkosi connected rural Ramechhap to Kathmandu and the Tarai, people began to leave in droves, and the district witnessed a -0.47% decline in population by 2011.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepalis-moving-from-mountains-to-plains">Nepalis moving from mountains to plains</a>, Shristi Karki The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">2015 earthquake</a> caused extensive damage in Ramechhap, and additional roads were built to facilitate reconstruction. Most rebuilt houses now lie empty.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250117050144_061f4befbeb60790e4139bff187e2d5a4f8097be982409c2212a7102ac31fd98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250117050144_061f4befbeb60790e4139bff187e2d5a4f8097be982409c2212a7102ac31fd98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="554" loading="lazy" alt="Closed door"> </figure>  By 2021, major road networks connected all the municipalities in the district, and Ramechhap had a population growth rate of -1.67%. Ramechhap currently has more than 4,000km of roads.&nbsp; But while the roads reached Ramechhap, the village did not have enough jobs or indigenous products that they could trade in the newly accessible market. “The road network brought the market to the community, but took our people in exchange,” says Dilli Raj Adhikari of the Manthali municipality. In remote districts like Humla, which are not connected to the highway grid, &nbsp;connectivity within the district has meant that people have begun to move to Simkot,&nbsp; The population growth rate in realatively underdeveloped districts like Kalikot, Jumla, Mugu, and Dolpa is relatively high. On the other hand, Dailekh and Salyan which have more roads, have seen a decline in population as people move to cities.&nbsp; The government conceived of the 1,700km Mid-Hill Highway in 2007 to keep people in the mountains. One of the objectives of this 'national pride project' was to connect 5 million people across the mountains to better facilities. However, the government and politicians did not care how this new road would affect migration. As it stands, the population of all 26 districts connected to this highway has &nbsp;declined steadily for the past two decades. The fast track, which was promised to be the ‘highway of prosperity’ has instead become a highway of relocation.&nbsp; The 1952 census found that 65% of Nepalis <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">lived in the mountains</a> and hills, while 35.2% were in the Tarai. By 2021, 53.6% were living in the Tarai, while only 40.3% remained in the hills.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/from-nowhere-to-nowhere">From nowhere to nowhere</a>, Basanta Pratap Singh It is not enough for road infrastructure to reach the remotest corners of the country if there are no livelihood opportunities. Development is not just about roads and bridges unless it enables people to fulfill their basic needs and connects them to better health, education, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/few-jobs-created-by-nepal-employment-drive">employment opportunities</a>. Otherwise, people will continue to leave for cities which are struggling to manage increased pressure on their limited resources, lowering overall quality of life for all. Chetan Adhikari is a demographic analystic who is pursuing MPhil-PhD on population studies from Tribhuvan University.

The road out of Nepal

The pronunciation of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/english-is-not-the-be-all-and-end-all">English</a> words can be quite difficult for those of us who attended government schools where phonetics were not part of the curriculum. English pronunciation has no rules anyway, and way too many exceptions.
While we may understand the meanings and proper contexts of words, we often struggle with their correct pronunciation. However, this is not my primary concern. Admittedly, my pronunciation can also be odd, incorrect, and even amusing at times, but I have something else that is serious to discuss.
I often feel a sense of discomfort in my mouth when I come across words that contain many letters. There seems to be a disconnect between what my mind intends to say and what actually comes out. My thoughts may be clear, but when I try to speak, the sound that comes out is different from what I intended.
At times, my nerves get the better of me, making it difficult to even say the word at all. I understand that these situations are normal but they still can affect my self-esteem. It makes my learning process tough. The only relief for me is that I have acknowledged the issue.
The first time I truly recognised my struggle with the word ‘acknowledgement’ was while reading a book to my daughter. I noticed the author’s acknowledgment section and thought it would be a great opportunity to show her how many people contribute to getting a book published.&nbsp;
However, when I attempted to read it aloud, I found myself unable to do so. I tried to mentally dissect the word and speak it, but nothing worked.
Despite preparing myself repeatedly, the moment I tried to say it, my tongue felt paralysed. That day, my daughter stepped in to help me pronounce it, but it took nearly a year before I could say it without feeling anxious. Generally, I rely on those around me or an online dictionary for assistance. I break the word down, write it in Nepali, and practice it multiple times, which helps me pronounce it correctly.&nbsp;
Yet, the very next day, when I need to use it again, my nerves kick in, and I find myself questioning whether I should just choose a different word. I stay committed to improving, and while I do make mistakes, I continue to learn. But sometimes, I feel like giving up and search for an easier word instead. Yet, when I’m speaking, that challenging word often resurfaces in my mind and slips out. Others may not notice, but I certainly do, and it disrupts the flow of my conversation, leading to more mistakes.
I know, over the time, I have improved a lot. However, there are thousands of such words and they come my way in different circumstances. I worked in the &nbsp;subscription department of a magazine for a short time. There I learned the meaning of ‘subscription’ but it took many years for me to pronounce it correctly.&nbsp;
After leaving the job, I encountered with the word when I switched myself from TV to YouTube in 2014. &nbsp;
Every this and that YouTuber was asking their audience to subscribe their channel. I used to utter the word every time the Nepali YouTuber said ‘subscribe my channel’ (without the ‘to’). I would laugh thinking until and unless I can pronounce the word correctly, who would ‘subscribe my channel’ if I had one. I could not say “Grahak Bannus” for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mobile-nepal-is-hooked-on-youtube">YouTube </a>as I used to request while working for the magazine subscription.
I have been exploring a new approach lately. When I anticipate discussing a specific topic, I create a list of key words that I know I need to include. If there are words I find challenging to pronounce, I take the time to practice them. Although this method has not produced immediate results, I remain committed to reducing my mistakes. How long will it take? I am not sure, but I continue to practice diligently.&nbsp;
Recently, I delivered a presentation at a conference in Sri Lanka on how the Constitution and laws have protected <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/can-nepal-elections-change-its-male-stream-politics">women’s roles in Nepal’s politics</a> over the past decade. I had mentally prepared myself to avoid the term ‘constitutionalised’ but my ingrained habits took over.&nbsp;
As I spoke, that word slipped out, and I found myself struggling. However, surprisingly, I did not feel nervous. I maintained my flow and continued speaking. The word came up again, and while I felt uncomfortable, I did not let it derail me. I focused on sharing other points confidently and remained composed throughout.
A few weeks ago during a meeting, I found myself struggling with the word ‘accompanied’. I had gone over it the night before, hoping it would come to me easily.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/lionel-messi-the-goat">Lionel Messi the goat</a>, Anbika Giri
Unfortunately, it popped into my mind at the wrong moment. It was the first time I openly acknowledged that certain words can trip me up. Thankfully, my colleagues stepped in to help me finish my accompan…ied.
Since that day, I have been diligently practicing it, hoping that next time it will flow smoothly and not trip up my tongue. I will not deny that I felt a wave of nervousness and shyness, but I also managed to laugh at myself, which helped me relax and keep the conversation going.
Lately, I have been working on getting comfortable with the term ‘statistician’. I know I will be using it a lot soon. I am just hoping that by the time I need to say that ‘the data I am discussing has been analysed by a skilled statistician’, my brain and tongue are in sync.

Keeping brain and tongue in sync

2025 marks ten years since the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/why-has-zero-cost-migration-not-happened" target="_blank">free-visa-free-ticket policy</a> was introduced that caps worker paid fees at Rs10,000 if employers do not cover it. But there is not much to celebrate since workers continue to pay excessive recruitment fees.
Many reports have covered the implementation failure of this policy: workers pay, they receive receipts stating Rs10,000 even when they have paid significantly higher, and recruiters pay taxes on just this amount as the rest is, pick your label: black money, bribe, commission. The legally stipulated amount sometimes might not even cover the ‘cut’ often offered to those in power as part of the ‘setting’ to facilitate migration. All this is an open secret.
The recruiters association, NAFEA, demands that the legally allowed service fees of Rs10,000 under the free-visa-free-ticket scheme be revised to a month’s wage. In the current climate, this is a reasonable demand. The Philippines has a cap of one month, while India has set the limit of INR20,000, or 45 days’ worth of wages. In the case of outgoing workers from Nepal to Korea under the Employment Permit Scheme (EPS), the fees are over $1,000 -- but all workers are charged the same, there is a transparent breakdown of costs that apply equally to all, and workers are able to recoup this cost within a month.
All these features of transparency and predictability are missing for workers headed to the Gulf and Malaysia where the free-visa-free-ticket policy applies, but rarely implemented. Workers are arbitrarily charged as per the recruiter’s or individual broker’s demand. There is no certainty when they can recoup costs, usually it takes many months. In this context, the debate around around Rs10,000 versus 1 month in service fees is moot, since workers are paying significantly higher.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/zero-sum-game-in-zero-cost-migration" target="_blank">free-visa-free-ticket scheme</a> also does not allow for other policy alternatives. Even though workers are paying heavily by borrowing informally, policies to lower costs such as via no-collateral interest rate loan schemes are not prioritised. If a worker is paying the recruiter a reasonable fee-- all things considered-- as a month’s salary with transparent and favorable job terms, they would still be treating it as a shady under-the-table deal.
The Nepal government can do a lot more to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/labour-recruiter-netted-in-sting-raid" target="_blank">clamp down</a> on fraudulent recruiters, empower migrant workers with correct information and have proper monitoring systems to bring costs down, because there is no limit to how much workers are being charged currently.
But we have to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-theory-and-practice-of-zero-cost-migration" target="_blank">consider</a> the transnational drivers of recruitment costs in the international labor market and the limitations of a unilateral policy like the free-visa-free-ticket scheme.
The free-visa-free-ticket policy is based on the employer-pays model. The name itself is a give-away: the employer pays. But in the current reality, the employer does not always pay. In some cases, the employer may cover the costs, but HR representatives and other intermediaries might still engage in shady dealings.
Of course, this is not meant to give recruiters a pass. Through unhealthy competition to secure contracts, recruiters have allowed employers or their representatives to avoid paying for various or all aspects of the recruitment fees or costs. Even when recruiters do receive payment from the employer, they often charge workers as well, profiting from both sides simply because they can. Individual informal brokers, too, continue to prey on workers.
But in this mess, why do some workers still migrate at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/migration-is-development" target="_blank">zero cost</a> then? Surely the free-visa-free- ticket policy is working in some instances? Not really. It has more to do with <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/1369183X.2023.2279741" target="_blank">policies and actors</a> outside our borders.
For example, many recent recruitment drives <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-few-good-agents" target="_blank">offering zero-cost placements</a> have originated in Malaysia. This is not a result of the free-visa-free-ticket policy, but rather a consequence of some Malaysia-based companies becoming <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/fee-free-migration-is-possible" target="_blank">stricter with their recruitment practices</a> and due diligence after facing export bans from countries like the US.
In fact, workers ethically deployed in many recruitment drives for Malaysia have benefited more than what the free-visa, free-ticket policy typically requires. Not only did they avoid paying fees, but their domestic transportation and lodging costs were also covered.
When Malaysia closed its doors to foreign workers indefinitely earlier this year, ethical recruitment from Nepal has been adversely impacted. Aakarshan International that sent 2,716 workers last fiscal year has not deployed a single worker since June 2024 when Malaysia closed doors.
Another company, International Manpower Recruitment that used to send over 5,000 workers ethically in 2023 has seen its numbers drop this year to less than 100. While overreliance on a single destination country has its risks, responsible recruiters face additional challenges in diversifying, as the number of ethical drives is limited in the international market.
The good news is that ethical recruitment is still possible, and is being done when there is the will from all actors involved. There is scope for due diligence laws in global supply chains that hold parent companies liable for activities of subcontractors and suppliers, regardless of where they operate. These include the EU Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive, UK Modern Slavery Act and Australian Modern Slavery Act.
There is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/low-hanging-fruit-in-uk-farms" target="_blank">potential</a> for better information sharing and matchmaking between responsible actors, allowing a responsible employer overseas to easily identify a trustworthy recruiter in our region, and vice versa. Thousands of workers, including from marginalised communities <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-survivors-migrate-for-work" target="_blank">have migrated</a> without being debt-trapped.
The worrying news is that a lot more work is needed to make responsible recruitment a sustainable and less risky business. The more rigid recruiters are about sticking to responsible practices, the more choked they are to obtain new business.
The appetite for ethical recruitment needs to be whetted in the international labour market, and this requires all stakeholders to step up. The role of employers in driving good practices is evident in how many recruiters operate in a hybrid model in Nepal depending on whether the employer hires under the employer pays model and conducts monitoring or not.
The Nepal government needs to use its leverage via bilateral agreements and discussions, &nbsp;multilateral platforms like the Abu Dhabi Dialogue and Colombo Process, to ensure that host country governments also take ownership of the role of employers in influencing worker-paid costs and to ensure the employers are covering the costs associated with worker recruitment even if workers are paying recruiters outside their territory. Efforts to attract responsible employers to Nepal need to be prioritized alongside strengthening our own labor mobility industry.
Surely, 10 years of consistent failure warrants a shake up? An honest evaluation of the policy is essential for all of us who champion migrant welfare. This requires understanding the broader context in which the scheme operates (or fails to) beyond the evident lapses in Nepal Government’s enforcement and monitoring and the recruiters’ and individual agents’ unperturbed preying on workers:
1. Employers do not always cover recruitment costs or conduct proper due diligence and monitoring of recruiters.
2. Host country governments are not doing enough to regulate companies hiring overseas workers even when their laws prohibit workers from getting charged.
3. Migrant-sending countries like Nepal, Philippines and India have varying regulations regarding recruitment costs.
4. Nepali youth are desperate for overseas jobs, often borrowing at prohibitively high informal interest rates.
5. Even attractive, low-cost job offers with high returns that do not meet the free-visa-free-ticket requirement by the letter are often handled as ‘under the table’ deals.
6. Responsible recruiters are struggling to secure job orders that align with the employer-pays model.&nbsp;
7. Recruitment costs are not the only determinant of migration outcomes and should be considered in the context of other terms of employment including both pecuniary and non-pecuniary benefits.
Only when all these aspects are considered can a fair evaluation of the implementation failures of the unilateral, populist free-visa-free-ticket policy be possible.
Upasana Khadka heads<a href="https://www.migration-lab.com/"> Migration Lab</a>, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a fortnightly column in Nepali Times.

Free-visa-free-ticket policy in limbo

The Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) likes to pick fights and has been at odds with Sagarmatha National Park after it, the Namche local government and Lukla businesses banned commercial helicopter flights to the base of Everest from 1 January. 
The restriction has a lot to do with local political and business rivalries, and was hastily announced before the tourism and mountaineering industry could find alternatives. But there is no denying that the constant throb of choppers over the national park’s wilderness was also starting to put visitors off.
The park had issued a letter in December to only allow rescue and emergency flights above Lukla from the new year, but reversed this decision earlier this week, allowing commercial flights to land with its permission. 
The dispute, however is far from over. The park's reversal angered Khumbu Pasang Lhamu Rural Municipality, with locals staging protests at helipads and landing zones. 

CAAN had challenged the national park’s decision in a strongly-worded statement, citing its exclusive authority over aviation-related issues. It egged on helicopter operators to keep flying. 
Flying above Lukla has pitted businesses in Lukla and Namche against each other since the 1970s, when helicopters started ferrying trekkers and cargo, depriving Lukla operators of their trade. 
Flying large, noisy aircraft to Everest Base Camp and Kala Patar just for sightseeing was getting out of hand. It does not just ruin the tranquility of the region below the world’s highest mountain, but disturbs wildlife and deprives local communities who depend on portering of their jobs.
Mountain regions across the world have strict guidelines on commercial aviation over protected areas. There have also been studies into the risks posed by aircraft on wildlife behaviour in Alaska, Norway, and Canada.
A <a href="https://catalog.northslopescience.org/dataset/766359ff-18ff-4ccf-aef3-8af228158d5f/resource/079ee112-cd69-4ca8-8963-1ffd9f684fcb/download/anderson_2007_abr.helicopter.disturbance.biblio.pdf" target="_blank">2007 study</a> by Alaska-based environmental consulting firm ABR Inc for the US Army found that polar bears fled up to 64km away when a helicopter flew 100m above ground level, abandoning cubs and returning to search for their young only after three days had passed. 
Caribou reindeers and moose showed similar behaviour. A study conducted on snow geese saw the birds diverting their flight path 1.2km away when a helicopter flew nearby. 
There are no studies yet on the sky and endangered musk deer, snow leopards, red pandas, and bears, which inhabit the Sagarmatha National Park. The Khumbu is also the migratory route of bar-headed geese and other birds which have adapted their lungs to fly over the Himalaya.
It is therefore well within the purview of national park authorities to control activities that contribute to biodiversity loss. The unrestricted flights have also reportedly contributed to wildlife poaching, especially for the musk deer prized for their pouches. 
There is no military or park oversight of helicopters landing or overflying the region. Air traffic control also does not exist, and pilots are required to keep a visual lookout for other choppers.
Vibrations from helicopter rotors can also trigger avalanches on mountain slopes already unstable due to permafrost loss, warming and climate breakdown. 
To be sure, Nepali helicopter pilots are world renowned for their daring rescues at high altitudes. But operators have become just as infamous for fake rescue operations in which they collude with guides and hospitals in the city to scam insurance companies. 
There is debate about exactly how beneficial sightseeing ‘heli-tourism’ is to Nepal’s mountain communities whose livelihood depends upon visitors to the Everest region. Trekkers can now cut short their stay and get choppers to ferry loads, impacting local businesses. 
A survey showed that if an Airbus H123 helicopter flown by a Nepali pilot over Khumbu charges Rs145,000 per hour, only 19.5% of that amount goes to the national economy, the rest pocketed by select travel agencies, helicopter operators and the manufacturers.
Trekking-based adventure tourism has more and multi-faceted benefits than heli-tourism in the Himalaya because it pumps money directly into the local economy.
All this is not to say that helicopter flights must be completely stopped. There should have been negotiations between those for and against helicopters, and a compromise could have been easily found to allow commercial chopper operators at least up to Syangboche. 
Also, rescue flights are of vital importance to residents of mountain communities as well as mountaineers and trekkers. Events of international significance, like the UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres flying to Kala Patar can be important.
This comes to the key question of how to balance tourism income with the concern for the protection of natural and cultural heritage. We should follow accepted practice of flights over national parks elsehwer ein the world. 
CAAN has an authority over the sky, but Sagarmatha National Park has the final say over the protected natural habitat. 
Arjun Dhakal is the Managing Director of Social Economic, Environmental Institute (SEEPORT) and is an expert on natural resource and climate change policy issues.

Nepal chops chopper flights to Everest

Nepali Times #1245

Gender, diversity, equity and inclusion have deliberately been turned into slurs, as the world’s most powerful nation silences activists at home and abroad. It is therefore audacious and reassuring that an art exhibition titled Feminist Futures is being held in Kathmandu. Nepal is one of the few remaining safe spaces in South Asia for open-minded discussion on balancing the scales of social justice, and Taragaon Next has curated an exhibition with artists from Nepal, India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Pakistan. South Asia is not safe for women, New Delhi has one of the highest numbers of sexual violence cases against women in the world. Horrific crimes against women frequently make it to the headlines in Nepal.&nbsp; Feminist Futures: Art, Activism, and South Asian Womanhood attempts to highlight this through the transformative power of art to express experiences and aspirations tied to womanhood and feminism.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025020111024_fc6e1ebf5619487b41127782e1163abc4c77623c2a87657023d535e49ed7bba2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025020111024_fc6e1ebf5619487b41127782e1163abc4c77623c2a87657023d535e49ed7bba2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Of women, for women, by women NT"> </figure>  “We wanted to bring this region together for a common cause,” explains Namita Saraf of Taragaon Next. “We wanted to give visitors something to reflect on and be inspired by. Art expresses emotions, and its intensity is what can bring change.”&nbsp; The exhibition is spread over Taragaon Next’s tubular brick structures and includes paintings, photographs, installations and videos from artists Anita Dube, Anoli Perera, Ashmina Ranjit, Bidhata KC, Mithu Sen, Naiza Khan, Pushpamala N, Sheba Chhachhi, Tayeba Begum Lipi, and Uma Bista. It is curated by Arshiya Lokhandwala. Nepali artist Ashmina Ranjit at the launch event on 25 January performed Sita! An Ideal Wife depicting the difficulties and injustices women face when they get married (pictured, above).&nbsp; “Patriarchy treats women as objects and does not give women the rights of ‘ansa’ and ‘bansa’,” Ranjit tells Nepali Times, using the rhyming Nepali words for ‘inheritance’ and ‘ancestry’. Nepali activists have been struggling for equal inheritance rights and citizenship for the children of single mothers for decades, with little progress.&nbsp; While a seemingly subtle force, art has the potential to spread awareness and catalyse reform. However, the true power and impact of art lies in its ability to connect with the community. When art resonates deeply with people, inviting them to interpret, reflect, and react, it is transformed from being just personal expression into collective action.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025020111024_3bf7561e4abbf1331f35fb4ac42627c9dee279520b91000b72ee09881ad68228.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025020111024_3bf7561e4abbf1331f35fb4ac42627c9dee279520b91000b72ee09881ad68228" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Of women, for women, by women NT"> </figure>  “Being able to engage a large audience rather than a whole community and deliver an impactful message beyond boundaries is what an artist dreams of,” adds Tayeba Begum Lipi from Bangladesh. Anita Dube from India exhibits Sea Creature, a collection of eyes embedded in a hand. She explains, “The eyes are the eyes of God, but when they come together as people’s eyes, incredibly beautiful energy emerges.” Sri Lanka’s Anoli Perera’s I Let My Hair Loose represents the protest against the male gaze. Women are constantly uncomfortably stared upon by the opposite sex, so her portrayal of the faces of women covered in long hair shows that women represent strength and value equal to, if not more, than men. Nepali artist Bidhata KC says her work Being a Daughter, Being a Woman is aimed at changing mindsets across generations. She says: “The idea is to show the independent identity of women as equal human beings, not merely as girls or daughters.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025020111024_d0acf07611201d126841e1743756a5a5954566d3cc1ecac5646abb77d6ec1aac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025020111024_d0acf07611201d126841e1743756a5a5954566d3cc1ecac5646abb77d6ec1aac" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Of women, for women, by women NT"> </figure>  Some pieces at the exhibition are stark and confrontational denouncements of violence against women, others are more subtle critiques on the invisibility of women’s labour. Both force viewers to introspect: when can the world truly become a place of equality and safety for women? Kathmandu, with its space for free speech and artistic expression, is the ideal &nbsp;venue for this and other exhibitions at a time when there are increasing threats around the region and the world constricting open expression.&nbsp; Says Bidhata KC, “Kathmandu is all about art, our temples, and religious shrines. Our very existence is defined by an artistic culture in which women have always been portrayed as powerful.” In a cultural setting where stories of women are often marginalised or stigmatised, the exhibition highlights the creativity and strength of South Asian women as they reclaim the narrative, and lead a growing wave of feminist activism.&nbsp; This goes beyond simply challenging oppression. It advocates a future where art, activism, and solidarity can uplift and empower women at a time when Trumpian regression threatens to trample social justice. &nbsp;&nbsp; Feminist Futures: Art, Activism and South Asian Womanhood Every day 10AM-5:30PM until mid-May Taragaon Next Hyatt Regency premises

Of women, for women, by women

Journalism as a form of communication is limited by its format and style. After all, it is history in a hurry. Fiction tries to transcend this, and novels are sometimes turned into movies to get the message across more urgently about the human condition. Poetry goes beyond words and employs sonic language to dig deeply into our innermost feelings. Art takes visual cues to go beyond even poetry. But it is often art for art’s sake. Actually, art is a pure form of communication. Only art can reach the subconscious in us to explore existence and expression. Which is what Mukhiya Samridh and Subesh KC are trying to get across to us with their joint exhibition of installations and paintings in WHOARE.YOU at Siddhartha Art Gallery. Subesh KC is a Norway-based artist who is obsessed with how language determines who we are, how we perceive and are perceived. We take words and sentences as a given, the linguistic codes tumbling out from the recesses of our brain and we spout and write words without thinking. KC deconstructs language into a series of paintings ‘We Simply Find Ourselves Here’ with stylised human forms in a backdrop that looks like gibberish – random imaginary hieroglyphics. The underlying message could be that the written language is just a phonetic code of what is spoken, which in turn encrypts our thoughts, feelings and communicates them imperfectly. WHOARE.YOU is not a question, it is an answer. But visitors are not given answers in a platter, each has to find their own meaning and interpretation. Artists are not required to explain the meaning of their work, but we ask KC anyway. “I am trying to investigate the links between language and our perception of reality, using asemic letters and abstraction to question how language determines our understanding of the self,” he says. KC has partnered with Mukhiya Samridh for this exhibition and has two joint works on display. The most striking is ‘Status Quo’ -- an installation with 1,500 nails hammered into an off-white board and arranged in a sine curve running across like a graph.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127130128_4f8399e6a907b404a34a6dbc6d3fe12b7b4014ea737f5d44316bdbb1771b49ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250127130128_4f8399e6a907b404a34a6dbc6d3fe12b7b4014ea737f5d44316bdbb1771b49ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="WHOARE.YOU art review"> <figcaption>Status Quo</figcaption> </figure>  “This is the cycle of consciousness,” explains Mukhiya. “We start from a high point where the ego is dominant, then we find out we are not so smart after all, and only after that lesson in humility do we rise up again to be enlightened. And all the time society is trying to hammer in any nail that sticks out.” Mukhiya is the son of artist Tekbir Mukhiya who has designed over 4,000 covers of Nepali books, many of them in wood blocks, in a career spanning five decades. Samridh has obviously inherited some of the abstract ways of expression from his versatile father. Samridh and Subesh went their separate ways from Nepal and came together again last year for this exhibition of conceptual work, and took five months to hammer out the main message which is an inquiry into who we are. And as visitors move from one exhibit to the next, they are left to also ponder: Who am I? Why am I? What am I? Where am I going after this? Samridh’s installations have a bleached faded look with no colours to distract us from the message. In a series called Nepali Time, just the second hand of clocks tick noisily reminding us also of the temporal dimension. While exploring concepts of language, consciousness, illusion and freedom, the collaborative exhibition has a thread running through it: the question of identity. Not a national or ethnic identity but a sentient identity, a being that is capable of pondering the mystery of its own existence and express it in the language of art. WHOARE.YOU forces us to think about why are we in this world at this time. Kunda Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127130128_946d7cebeacaf615ae468a1cab597badcc1d75e0161a2aa22ae2eaca1a4519d3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250127130128_946d7cebeacaf615ae468a1cab597badcc1d75e0161a2aa22ae2eaca1a4519d3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1134" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="WHOARE.YOU art review"> </figure>  WHOARE.YOU Till 19 February Siddhartha Art Gallery Baber Mahal Revisited

Communicating existence through art

As a struggling photographer in Bhaktapur 30 years ago, Kishor Kayastha could not even afford furniture. Buying a new lens was out of the question. Later, as one of Nepal’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1520">top fashion and travel photographers</a>, Kayastha toured the world, doing shoots in exotic places for famous brands. Money was not as much a limiting factor anymore. Then came the accident. The shoot team was caught in a blizzard in Mustang in 2019, when Kayastha and the horse he was riding tumbled down a steep slope in whiteout conditions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025010810014_4df10f4086c81192b5e9fdda030c3d2b2b186b549c9b0683a6922dc4b4699ce6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025010810014_4df10f4086c81192b5e9fdda030c3d2b2b186b549c9b0683a6922dc4b4699ce6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3714" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_fe7e94e613c7c6de648043252095475c789260a9a66f88d5d7e349bab9f21c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250108050116_fe7e94e613c7c6de648043252095475c789260a9a66f88d5d7e349bab9f21c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  “My whole life flashed before me,” he recalls, “I was filled with regret for all work I had not done. I suddenly realised all the money in the world cannot buy you life. Miraculously, Kayastha survived and the near-death experience was an epiphany that changed the trajectory of his life. Since then, his photographs have a more dreamlike tone, the visuals documenting an observed reality but transcending it. Which is why a visit to Kishor Kayastha’s ongoing exhibition of 30 ultra-wide panoramas at Nepal Art Council, MUSTANG: A Two-Decade Odyssey, feels like a pilgrimage to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/hibernating-students-of-the-himalaya">Mustang</a>: it is the next best thing to being there oneself. The high resolution prints are vast, some of them 6m wide, and do justice to Mustang’s big sky and the wrinkled, ochre terrain of this arid trans-Himalayan district. Kayastha has been going to Mustang at least four times a year for the past two decades, and the exhibition spans the time in which much has changed with the arrival of the highway, outmigration and climate breakdown. But a lot remains the same. “I first went in 2004 mainly because I could not go to Tibet,” Kayastha relates. “And I found there is a Tibet in Nepal, too. Mustang has always been a refuge, a beyul, to escape the materialistic world of Kathmandu.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_41d004484b0a3471cc441b23360fe187eda813c19ca26314795215f428ddcbaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250108050116_41d004484b0a3471cc441b23360fe187eda813c19ca26314795215f428ddcbaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_131a471fb81aa7d0d314bf08bd5912951bb20d0d3b6977e1c1ff523da6456500.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250108050116_131a471fb81aa7d0d314bf08bd5912951bb20d0d3b6977e1c1ff523da6456500" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="912" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  Kayastha, now 47, was born into photography. His <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14249">parents owned a studio</a> in Bhaktapur, and as a boy he helped his mother in the darkroom, dipping black and white prints into developers and fixers under a dim red light. Today, everyone with a mobile device is taking pictures, but Kayastha believes photography is more relevant than ever: “Selfies have become selfish. Like they said that the invention of the camera would make paintings obsolete, photography is not going away either.” &nbsp; Anyone who has travelled north of Kagbeni, especially <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/mustang-in-shadows-and-light">in the old days</a> before Sumo jeeps replaced mule trains, will appreciate the tranquility of this windswept plateau where time stood still.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_d478c15cb66377326d0ef88b70f38eaeb9f20b97bd06d7753f04671550881545.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250108050116_d478c15cb66377326d0ef88b70f38eaeb9f20b97bd06d7753f04671550881545" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  “The horizon is so wide, the sky so immense, the land so unending that Mustang makes you feel small in the scheme of things. It brings you down to size, both physically and spiritually,” Kayastha says. The extra-wide prints were so big, even the Nepal Art Council’s walls could not accommodate all of them, so Kayastha had to scale some of the photographs down. The sheer size of the images evoke in visitors the finiteness of human existence in time and space.&nbsp; Kayastha speaks to us as he unrolls a stitched panorama of Kagbeni he took in 2004. That image and another one taken from the same spot in 2024 serve as bookends at the exhibition, revealing through repeat photography the passage of time. Kagbeni’s monastery complex is now much bigger, there are new concrete buildings, and scars from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-lost-cannot-be-repaid">the great flood last year</a> that tore through town.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_063acabfe6e991f69e1d5eaace3620b4136f2212135f899a5ac0c4e5011e31e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250108050116_063acabfe6e991f69e1d5eaace3620b4136f2212135f899a5ac0c4e5011e31e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_cb401c5d83a34e999f96ab24a69dae2cbe525d575a3a798182ab09bab2490628.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250108050116_cb401c5d83a34e999f96ab24a69dae2cbe525d575a3a798182ab09bab2490628" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  Yet, beyond and above the Kali Gandaki’s fossil-strewn banks, the russet brown folds in the rock strata remind us that in geological timescale human beings have been here for less than a millisecond of a camera’s shutter speed. Kishor Kayastha’s exhibition forces us to think that Mustang’s fierce afternoon winds will keep sculpting its dyed organ pipe cliffs long after we are not here to see them.&nbsp; MUSTANG: A Two Decade Odyssey by Kishor Kayastha Till 14 January, 11AM-4PM Nepal Art Council

Eyes wide open in Mustang

Before much of the world realised the impact and severity of the climate crisis, Nepal was already moving towards clean energy through ‘small is beautiful’ technology that improved on traditional tools and methods.&nbsp; Today, Nepal is building multi-billion dollar hydropower projects and importing fancy electrical appliances. But few know that both the government and the country’s development partners were actively promoting small, renewable, and green energy sources before climate change became the buzzword. The drivers behind this movement beginning in the late 1970s, included the widespread belief that Nepal was losing its forests at an alarming rate resulting in soil erosion. Called the ‘Himalayan Degradation Theory’, it was later debunked, but not before international conferences and workshops on appropriate technology were held to address the threat of denuded mountains. &nbsp; In 1978, Nepal-based Belgian Jesuit Bertrand Saubolle and Swiss engineer Andreas Bachmann authored the popular book, Mini Technology. They wrote about how to cool a house without air-conditioning, how to chill beer without a refrigerator, how to produce gas for cooking and lighting, and how to make crows trap themselves.&nbsp; Although afforestation and agricultural programs in Nepal 45 years ago received the bulk of foreign and domestic assistance, a small but important portion was devoted to the development of alternative sources of energy for cooking, lighting, and work. Even back then, Dipak Gyawali, Krishna Murari Gautam and Kunda Dixit were already publishing the Biogas Newsletter and the Nepali language alternative energy journal Shakti to highlight small-scale sustainable solutions to the energy, food and water needs of Nepalis. Some of the technologies developed and tested in Nepal are shown below. Some are from 50 years ago.&nbsp; Technicians and tinkerers drove the development of these alternative tools. Some, like Andreas Bachman and Akkal Man Nakarmi, were certified engineers. Many were mechanically-inclined amateurs with a mission, some would say passion, for developing and disseminating simple technologies that could make life better and easier for the average Nepali farmer. All were convinced that their work would one day in one way or another lead to poverty alleviation, better natural resource management, and improved livelihoods. Today, it is important to ask: did the decades of appropriate technology research, development, and dissemination have an impact?&nbsp; Biogas is one of the success stories of Nepal with over 400,000 household biogas plants installed, while large-scale industrial plants are in various stages of operation today. The spread has now slowed because of outmigration and the entry of cheap LPG. Hundreds of improved ghatta are still in use. Scores of micro-and mini-hydropower plants continue to provide power for hundreds of Nepal’s isolated mountain villages. Solar lighting is common in thousands of trekker’s lodges throughout Nepal, as are solar battery chargers for the now-ubiquitous cell phones and laptops. Solar water boilers for kitchen use, and solar driers for fruit preservation, are in use in Nepal’s more arid and sunnier locations, such as Khumbu and Mustang. Solar pumps irrigate fields in difficult terrain. Unfortunately, the Arusha windmill never left Kathmandu Valley, and the legendary winds of the Kali Gandaki proved to be too much for what proved to be a poorly anchored Savonius windmill.&nbsp; Likewise, solar reflectors and insulated cookers never really caught on, most likely because they were too cumbersome or inconvenient to use regularly. And whatever happened to the predictions of catastrophic loss of forest cover on the mountains, one might wonder.&nbsp; Unexpectedly, the &nbsp;‘deforestation’ pressures of the 1970s were largely reduced by outmigration, abandoned farmland, LPG cylinders and second-growth forests. Nepal's successful community-based forestry initiatives of the 1980s also deserve credit, and has nearly doubled its forest cover in the past 25 years.&nbsp; Reduction in fuelwood use brought about by improved chulo, solar water heaters, backburner water heaters, and locally sourced electricity assuredly played important roles as well. Nepal is the pioneer of appropriate technologies in South Asia. But how do all of the empirical successes, and some failures, stack up against the gigawatts of energy being produced by massive new hydroelectric stations that is making possible the current switch to electric vehicles?&nbsp; In terms of total energy output, appropriate technology’s current contribution is miniscule. But the spirit of innovation and the need for locally-appropriate solutions in rural areas will continue to have relevance to many. Simple, cost-effective solutions may just be what Nepal, and the world, need most in the long run.&nbsp; This is especially true because expensive hydro infrastructure and dams are at a higher risk of climate disasters as seen in Melamchi and Sikkim, and Tama Kosi recently. &nbsp; <h2>&nbsp;IMPROVED CHULO</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_5165e36a6f8f2644f30835ec703dec59566e8167408ac6849bea7e3f616bb654.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250201030220_5165e36a6f8f2644f30835ec703dec59566e8167408ac6849bea7e3f616bb654" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1007" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Engineers test the efficiency of a traditional firewood stove, measuring the temperature of water. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  Chulo stoves were tested at the Royal Nepal Academy of Science and Technology (now NAST) to be disseminated across rural Nepal. Form-fitting holes for pots, fire breaks to direct the flames more directly to the bottom of the pots, and chimneys to remove smoke increased the efficiency of traditional firewood stoves, and improved health. <h2>HONEY BEES</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_7ec4ac53f7bdf614e258436b244bf2bdefe8d5d6da7a3103d141561c75377f8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250201030220_7ec4ac53f7bdf614e258436b244bf2bdefe8d5d6da7a3103d141561c75377f8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Bertrand Saubolle with a beehive in Godavari in the early 1980s. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Jesuit priest Bertrand Saubolle was a tireless promoter of 'small is beautiful' technology like biogas, solar driers and small hydropower. <h2>BIOGAS&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030224_300fe4d23c85dc7ae859a2ca593ca5e8cdb623faab7afc25ecd656eb2ce858bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250201030224_300fe4d23c85dc7ae859a2ca593ca5e8cdb623faab7afc25ecd656eb2ce858bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>A biogas plant in Kathmandu in the 1980s, and a homemaker cooking using clean methane gas from a digester. Photos: BROT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  In the mid-1970s, the United Mission to Nepal (UMN) introduced the first village biogas plants based on successful models from India. Each unit produced clean methane gas for cooking and lighting, as well as a nutrient-rich slurry that made an excellent pathogen-free fertiliser. The innovative underground dome Nepali design was maintenance free, and cheaper and spread rapidly with subsidised loans from the government. <h2>SOLAR PLANTS</h2> Despite the dismal state of investment and research into solar plants in Nepal today leading to a chronic lack of diversification in the energy sector, the opposite was true in the 1980s. Engineers at Balaju Yantra Shala were testing and marketing the first generation of solar water heaters for domestic home use.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_8fd43115360c6f633c131a277c4e4f27960b7e8d27097f2f65716589450f8468.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250201030220_8fd43115360c6f633c131a277c4e4f27960b7e8d27097f2f65716589450f8468" data-rendition-name="original" width="1667" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Solar water heaters on display at Balaju Yantra Shala. Nepal is still benefiting from this early investment in passive solar water heaters. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_27f9c80b02a924c70b4d156905c66d98bc35235a87b6ce7504b162b450076608.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250201030220_27f9c80b02a924c70b4d156905c66d98bc35235a87b6ce7504b162b450076608" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1098" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>A solar apple dryer being tested at the apple farm in Marpha in 1982. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030228_22fd5f332d0929f46e791cd58ec18ab58de9c1c8b75b36972b2026c61f733968.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250201030228_22fd5f332d0929f46e791cd58ec18ab58de9c1c8b75b36972b2026c61f733968" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Solar reflector cookers and hotbox cookers being tested in the early 1980s which, along with similar parabolic reflectors, focused the sun’s rays on a pot of water that could rapidly bring it to a boil. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Other solar technologies included solar dryers for drying apples in Marpha, reflective and hotbox cookers that reduced fuelwood use by placing a boiling pot of rice into an insulated box, and solar water boilers that quickly produced hot water for kitchen use. <h2>&nbsp;WINDMILLS</h2> Windmill technology was also being introduced and tested, and included an Arusha-style windmill constructed by Peace Corps Volunteer Jack Martin and RONAST in 1980, and a Savonius-style vertical axis windmill built by Swiss and Nepali engineers at Balaju Yantra Shala in 1980.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_0cf47b4603fb4b8445a34f99e5fb8de9345b6de8fe6cb15c26835c0b6fdb05e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250201030220_0cf47b4603fb4b8445a34f99e5fb8de9345b6de8fe6cb15c26835c0b6fdb05e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>An Arusha-style windmill constructed in 1980 (left), and a Savonius-style vertical axis windmill (right). Photos: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  The latter was eventually installed and tested in Jomsom by USAID’s Resource Conservation and Utilisation Project (RCUP) in 1981, but came to grief due to high winds. <h2>MICROHYDRO</h2> Micro- and mini-hydropower technologies, although common to Nepal’s urban regions for nearly 70 years, were being disseminated to more rural locations by the 1980s as well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030232_d73ce5b0ad5d9654016a2dc8c2efd503866c57928e50ecd7c5a0bcffcfcba755.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250201030232_d73ce5b0ad5d9654016a2dc8c2efd503866c57928e50ecd7c5a0bcffcfcba755" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still beautiful"> <figcaption>A Penstock pipe being installed below Namche Bazar in 1985. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_c841d624c525286ed3449f0dd47c258d81b29e469b61063c8316a6035dc1f6f7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250201030220_c841d624c525286ed3449f0dd47c258d81b29e469b61063c8316a6035dc1f6f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Namche Bazaar (3,440 m) at night with its first electric lights in 1985, and Mt Thamserku looming above. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1985, former Peace Corps volunteer Brot Coburn and UNESCO designed and installed the first micro-hydroelectric system in Namche Bazar. It was later washed away by the Dig Tso glacial lake outburst in 1985.&nbsp; <h2>IMPROVED GHATTA</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030236_a3ef5bb9385a5da005dbed93179dc09bba74be49e11fcc7dce788a135ea3d41e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250201030236_a3ef5bb9385a5da005dbed93179dc09bba74be49e11fcc7dce788a135ea3d41e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Smaii ls still possible NT "> <figcaption>Engineers Akkal Man Nakrami and Andreas Bachmann at a workshop in Asan in 1982. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Engineers like Akkal Man Nakrami and Andreas Bachmann &nbsp;developed improved ghatta, or Multi-Purpose Power Units (MPPU), that not only improved traditional grain grinding efficiency, but also produced electricity. For the first time hundreds of villages across the country had access to electricity at night. The more efficient water mills used better designed paddles on ball bearings that could be connected to a dynamo to generate enough power for domestic lighting in remote areas.&nbsp; Alton C Byers, PhD, is the Faculty Research Scientist at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research (INSTAAR) at the University of Colorado at Boulder.&nbsp;

Small is still possible

Half of Nepalis think the country, and their families, are doing better than five years ago. Really?&nbsp; The prevailing narrative is that Nepalis have given up on Nepal, are fed up with geriatric serial prime ministers, and are fleeing the country in droves. But the latest <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pulse-of-the-people">Sharecast Initiative poll</a> found that half the respondents felt their lives had improved, and the country was doing mostly okay. But it has become unpopular in Nepal to say that things are not so bad, and analysts who cited the survey were mercilessly trolled on social media for being ‘hope-mongers’. “There is a strong narrative that Nepali society is in a deep state of depression and most of us want to make it self-fulfilling,” says Rameshwar Bohora, editor at the digital portal Ukaalo which got much hate mail after publishing the survey findings. “What I saw in the survey result was not despair but anger and dissatisfaction at politicians, which means there is still hope.” To be sure, the poll also registered mass discontent with a dysfunctional government, its non-performance and corruption. Respondents had a long list of complaints that included unemployment, poverty, poor service delivery, inflation, etc. The survey indicated that their ultimate outlet was foreign employment.&nbsp; “The fact that people are dissatisfied with politics and criticise politicians means they still have hope and expectation, democratic politics is also the only way to improve things,” says political analyst Indra Adhikari. “People vent out their frustration to build public pressure so leaders and institutions will correct their behaviour and perform. This is how a healthy democracy works, and if we reject public opinion and treat it negatively, then it is our weakness.” Comparing previous nationwide public opinion surveys conducted over the past 20 years by Himalmedia (the publisher of Nepali Times) reveals an interesting pattern. The polls in 2013 and 2019 had similar questions: ‘Compared to a few years ago, what is the situation of the country?’ and ‘What direction is the country headed?’&nbsp; Tracking the trend, it is evident that Nepalis are becoming gradually more optimistic. One has to remember that by 2013, the post-conflict euphoria had evaporated during the fragile peace process and the Constituent Assembly was deadlocked over demands for ethnic federalism.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250131040148_1f4749940b2749c8eec2a3f056b7cfc89485332ba59db724cf87232628f6127c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250131040148_1f4749940b2749c8eec2a3f056b7cfc89485332ba59db724cf87232628f6127c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1309" height="731" loading="lazy" alt="Hope-mongering NT"> </figure>  Today, Nepalis are still disgusted with their rulers but on the whole feel that they can still change things through elections. Their sense of wellbeing could also be affected by remittance inflows, since nearly half of all households have at least one family member who is working abroad or is a returnee. So, is the glass half-full or half-empty? Both. The truth of the matter is that most Nepalis are angry, but not angry enough to give up hope that things will take a better turn. In fact, anger is good: it can force change if enough people vote out tried, tested, and failed incumbents in 2027. Only then can a new crop of younger leaders start to address the mountain of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/politics-as-usual">problems that have been left unaddressed</a> for so long: poverty, social injustice, political instability, environmental crises, discrimination, inequality, exclusion, inadequate healthcare and quality education.&nbsp; The public has found some respite in the fact that service delivery and governance at the local level have improved, as they share in the survey. Local elections were held for the first time in 20 years in 2017 after Nepal adopted federalism, and it has taken time for accountability to trickle down to the grassroots. But more importantly, the current governance system allows citizens to vote out the leaders that do not perform and replace them with alternatives as they did with Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah and RSP leader Rabi Lamichhane in 2017.&nbsp; In fact, the poll results could be the Nepali people’s way of telling the leaders of the three main parties: ‘Just you wait.’&nbsp; “Democracy is not all roses, but it also has a system to naturally filter out bad components which is especially important today when personality politics has taken over,” says Adhikari, adding that the trajectory of Nepal’s democracy has been progressive compared to other countries in the region. She adds: “Yes, our expectations haven’t been met, development and governance haven’t kept pace, we haven’t realised our true potential yet. But, considering everything, things could be much worse.” &nbsp;

‘Hope-mongering’

If there is one thing that has been consistently true for the Nepali public, it is that despite war, corruption and governance failure, they are inherent optimists. They see the good even in politicians and bureaucrats who do not deserve it.
Ever since <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/himal-media-public-opinion-survey-2015-outcome#google_vignette">Himalmedia</a> (the publisher of Nepali Times) started conducting public opinion surveys in 2004, respondents have shown dissatisfaction with Nepal’s rulers, a majority voting ‘None of the Above’ when asked for their party preference. Yet, in annual polls after that, they have always been hopeful about the future.
It still seems to be the case. The results of the latest public opinion poll by Sharecast Initiative show that most Nepalis are fed up with the chronic poor performance of &nbsp;established political parties, but they feel the system still gives them the option of finding alternative leaders. In other words, Nepalis are angry but not angry enough to take to the streets. &nbsp;
That should explain the apparent contradiction in their responses. Asked about the living standard of their families and the direction the country is headed, half the respondents said there had been positive improvement in their lives, but about the same number said they were disillusioned with politics and politicians.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Has your life and that of your family improved compared to five years ago (in %)?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-Cd2eg" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/Cd2eg/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="385" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
The public’s message to the old parties is clear: perk up, or we will vote for alternative leaders like Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah or Rabi Lamichhane of the RSP. The country is ruled by a coalition of the two largest parties in Parliament, but there are no signs that they understand, or care, about the public mood.&nbsp;
The Sharecast survey was conducted among 3,000 households across 52 districts in seven provinces between 1 December 2024 to 11 January 2025. In it, more than half the respondents said that their lives and that of their families had improved in the past five years. Another 16.2% said it was worse or much worse, and for 26.70% things remained the same.
Asked about the situation of the country, again half the respondents said it had improved, citing infrastructure development as the main reason. But 24.20% said it was the same, and another 24% said it was worse. They went on to list unemployment, poverty, lack of road access or maintenance, corruption, inflation, lack of quality education and political instability as their main concerns.&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="How is the state of the country compared to the last five years (in %)?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-gjjLn" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/gjjLn/3/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="440" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
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A new global study has found that Nepal ranks fourth in the list of countries with remittance making up the highest share of GDP. This is unsustainable but remittances are propping up not just the national economy, but also individual households. Nearly 1 million Nepalis left the country for work or study in the past year, and about 40% of young Nepali men are not in Nepal.&nbsp;
This could explain the seeming paradox between respondents saying their lives have improved, but that they are not satisfied with the political leadership. Indeed, over 70% of the poll respondents said foreign employment provided the best future. &nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Is Nepal is moving politically in the right direction (in %)?" aria-label="Pie Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-zsvK8" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/zsvK8/3/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="385" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
More than half the respondents felt that Nepal’s economy was in bad shape, while 24.2% thought that it was ‘very good’. Another 16.5% rated the situation as average. And since the economy is intrinsically linked to politics, a majority of respondents (68%) felt that Nepal’s politics is headed in the wrong direction. But most respondents (71%) seemed happy with the way the local government was performing, saying they received timely services at the local level.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="How is the state of economy?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-EE4AB" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/EE4AB/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="425" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
Respondents were also asked to pinpoint why Nepal’s leaders kept being elected over and over again. They mostly blamed ‘vote buying’ (52.10%), and 24.10% said because voters were satisfied with a candidate’s performance, with 21.80% saying voting patterns were determined by party loyalty.&nbsp;
With the government rocked by high-profile scandals exposed by the media, the Nepalis public seemed to be fed up with corruption in everyday life -- 80% of respondents said corruption was rampant, and only 0.70% said there was no corruption at all. Another 15% also admitted they had bribed government officials in the past year.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="How widespread is corruption in Nepal?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-Q0SpE" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/Q0SpE/4/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="425" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
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<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Have you had to bribe government official in the past year?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-lDV9s" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/lDV9s/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="462" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
When <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-opinion-on-leaders-federalism-secularism,2508">Himalmedia conducted its 2015 annual nationwide public opinion poll</a> just before the promulgation of the new Constitution, respondents were asked if Nepal should be a Hindu state. Slightly more than half wanted Nepal to be secular.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Should Nepal be a Hindu nation or remain a secular state (in %)?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-j2aGM" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/j2aGM/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="462" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
Interestingly, ten years later, the country is still almost equally divided between secularism and Hindu state – despite the popular narrative that if there was a referendum the country restoring the Hindu state would win overwhelmingly. Himalmedia polls after the abolition of the monarchy showed support for a return of kingship in the single digits, and although Sharecast did not have a question about it in the current poll, one can assume that support for the monarchy may have seen a slight increase as a reaction to the perceived incompetence of the established parties.&nbsp;
For the past few years, Nepal has been ruled by coalitions, often with alliances between parties with diametrically opposing ideologies even if they do not stick to it. A majority of respondents in the survey (74%) were against electoral alliances.&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Your thoughts on electoral alliances?" aria-label="Donut Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-U2rbN" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/U2rbN/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="364" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
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<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Why do the same people keep getting elected?" aria-label="Stacked Bars" id="datawrapper-chart-Oy2Hf" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/Oy2Hf/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="459" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
The current coalition came into existence supposedly to amend constitutional provisions regarding proportional representation, but the public perception is that K P Oli of the UML and the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba saw common cause in previous Home Minister Rabi Lamichhane of the RSP investigating top leaders in both parties for corruption.
An amendment to the Constitution scrapping proportional representation would make it more difficult for smaller parties like the RSP to gain seats in the House, as well as women candidates and those from marginalised communities. Nearly half of the respondents (46%) said major amendments to the constitution were necessary.&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Is it time for constitutional amendment?" aria-label="Pie Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-mcIzw" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/mcIzw/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="500" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
But what should be priority areas for the government? Controlling inflation, improving the economy, creating jobs, delivery and infrastructure, governance and social injustice were the obvious picks. Environmental problems and press freedom also made it to the list, but it was clearly not the top priority of most.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe src='https://flo.uri.sh/visualisation/21366581/embed' title='Interactive or visual content' class='flourish-embed-iframe' frameborder='0' scrolling='no' style='width:100%;height:600px;' sandbox='allow-same-origin allow-forms allow-scripts allow-downloads allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation'></iframe><div style='width:100%!;margin-top:4px!important;text-align:right!important;'><a class='flourish-credit' href='https://public.flourish.studio/visualisation/21366581/?utm_source=embed&utm_campaign=visualisation/21366581' target='_top' style='text-decoration:none!important'><img alt='Made with Flourish' src='https://public.flourish.studio/resources/made_with_flourish.svg' style='width:105px!important;height:16px!important;border:none!important;margin:0!important;'> </a></div></div>
 
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Professions and businesses Nepalis are most attracted to?" aria-label="Stacked Bars" id="datawrapper-chart-3rWSO" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/3rWSO/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="507" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
Trust in various institutions yielded some interesting results. As in previous Himalmedia polls, trust in the Nepal Army remains high (40.30%). Even the Nepal Police has recovered some of its respect (35.10%). As expected, people had a poor opinion of the office of the Prime Minister (15.30%), scoring even lower than provincial governments (20.30%).&nbsp;
Mayors and their deputies scored higher on the trust-o-meter (36.30%), and civil society improved its standing (47.70%). The mass media always scored consistently high in annual Himalmedia polls in the 2019s, with 87-90% approval ratings. It went down in previous Sharecast polls where the distinction was not made between social media and mass media, but in the current survey mainstream media trust level is higher than any other institution at 57.50%.&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Trust of institutions and positions (in %)" aria-label="Stacked Bars" id="datawrapper-chart-vzRf3" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/vzRf3/3/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="443" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
Previous surveys have shown that although 90% of those with Internet connection used social media platforms regularly, trust in its content was below 10%. For Nepal’s mainstream press, the lesson is clear: to maintain the public trust, it should strive to defend its credibility with greater professionalism.&nbsp;
It also shows that an independent press still has a role in defending and improving Nepal's democratic system.

Pulse of the people

They are rare, they are elusive and they are so well camouflaged, they are difficult to see, even when they are right there. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-brings-back-the-snow-leopard">snow leopards</a> are called the ‘Ghosts of the Himalaya’. And because they are also regarded as being sacred, they are called ‘God’s Pets’.&nbsp; Nepal has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/does-nepal-really-have-too-many-tigers">tripled its tiger population</a> in 12 years since 2010. There have been successive years with zero rhino poaching and the numbers have bounded back. But few know about the country’s success story with snow leopard conservation. Preliminary data from an on-going census shows that Nepal ranks fourth among the 12 snow leopard range countries in central and South Asia. This is despite the country having just 2% of the total area where snow leopards can be found.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127070148_0f22a5439d56e5db58d8f65789ee4ff5e87a29c898d5e8cbff60bf8f1814af4b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250127070148_0f22a5439d56e5db58d8f65789ee4ff5e87a29c898d5e8cbff60bf8f1814af4b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1311" height="724" loading="lazy" alt="snow leopards in Nepal NT 1"> <figcaption>Despite possessing just 2% of the snow leopard range across Central and South Asia, Nepal has the fourth highest number of elusive mammals in the world. Photo: TASHI R GHALE </figcaption> </figure>  Nepal also leads in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/satellite-tracking-snow-leopards-in-nepal-to-study-climate-impact">snow leopard research</a>. Less than 3% of the snow leopard range has been studied through camera traps and genetic studies, but it is Nepal that has done the most. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-leads-in-snow-leopard-study">Over 100 Years of Snow Leopard Research</a> by the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) in 2021 showed that 74% of the snow leopard habitat in northern Nepal has been the subject of research into the species. “We are leading globally when it comes to snow leopard conservation and study, starting from 2013 in Kanchenjunga using GPS to study their habitat,” says <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/conversation-with-mr-conservation">Ghana S Gurung of WWF Nepal</a>. “We also found via camera traps they went as high as 5,800m and as low as 2,600m.” There are an estimated 300-500 snow leopards across high mountain Nepal with Dolpo, Manang and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/participating-to-save-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a> the main hotpots for the endangered species. Unlike with tigers and rhinos which are poached by wildlife traffickers, snow leopard killings are mostly retaliatory for killing livestock. Snow leopards attack yaks, sheep and goats of herding communities in the mountains. One of the most effective methods to protect the species from traps and poisoning is to help local communities build mesh wire corrals. The San Francisco-based <a href="https://snowleopardconservancy.org/">Snow Leopard Conservancy</a> through the Nepal group <a href="https://www.mountainspirit.org.np/">Mountain Spirit</a> has designed and tested portable corrals that can move with herders.&nbsp; “They move all year around so that the livestock have enough pasture to graze on, which is why it was important that our improved corrals could be dismantled and moved around,” explains Shailendra Thakali of the Snow Leopard Conservancy. The team consulted herders in Manang and Mustang while developing the corrals based on traditional design, with a stone base but wire mesh on the sides and the roof as well as strong wire gates for secure closure. They are also using fox lights to deter activities at night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012803018_4a166ea1124008cfcf551ffd59c5841acb2bc9c443d9fbe56490b280492eb441.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025012803018_4a166ea1124008cfcf551ffd59c5841acb2bc9c443d9fbe56490b280492eb441" data-rendition-name="original" width="2244" height="1246" loading="lazy" alt="corraling"> <figcaption>Improved corrals in Manang and Mustang made up fo mesh wires to protect livestock from snow leopard attacks. Photo: PURNA MAN SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127070152_009bc57c5d2244a393a8423d56098f921ed29b8d0a60a9c15422dd58615b5e5b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250127070152_009bc57c5d2244a393a8423d56098f921ed29b8d0a60a9c15422dd58615b5e5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="snow leopards in Nepal NT 1"> <figcaption>The corrals are portable allowing herders to move them as they take livestock for grazing in high Himalayan pastures. Photo: PURNA MAN SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127070152_3b84ce156de1ed1deea79d23a15c1a3dfa5a412dca3644deec1333bda7f91cd0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250127070152_3b84ce156de1ed1deea79d23a15c1a3dfa5a412dca3644deec1333bda7f91cd0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="snow leopards in Nepal NT 1"> <figcaption>Local herders in Manang and Mustang were consulted while developing improved corrals. Photo: BRIAN PENISTON</figcaption> </figure>  Tourism and agriculture in Manang and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Mustang</a> dropped during the pandemic, and the Conservancy also helped herder communities with alternative livelihoods.&nbsp; “We trained them in basic hotel business such as lodge management skills but more importantly to restore abandoned pastures by planting jimbu which is highly valued for cooking in Kathmandu and Pokhara,” says Brian Peniston, also with the Snow Leopard Conservancy. “The tourist figures have now increased considerably and this has directly benefited 1,000 households in three municipalities.” <a href="https://www.wwfnepal.org/">WWF Nepal</a> has also collaborated with the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation (DPNWC) to train locals in Dolpo and Kangchenjunga to make their own mesh wire corrals with subsidies on raw materials.&nbsp; WWF has partnered with Amchi traditional medicine practitioners to promote conservation of snow leopard in mountain communities where people trust faith healers. School eco-clubs also involve youth in conservation.&nbsp; “We must trust communities and promote local ownership when it comes to wildlife conservation, and if it were not for the communities there, snow leopards would be long gone,” says Gurung of WWF Nepal. “It is important to revive the belief that snow leopards are sacred because they are god’s pets, tie them up with the spiritual, cultural and traditional belief of the people.” Community-managed livestock insurance schemes have attained zero retaliatory killings in Kangchenjunga where WWF and the government has sent up an endowment worth Rs10 million to compensate herders for snow leopard kills. A similar scheme is being implemented in Dolpo which has double the density of snow leopards compared to Kanchenjunga.&nbsp; But the compensation mechanism is cumbersome and often inefficient. Claimants need to provide photographic evidence with tags of the livestock still attached but snow leopards often go for the head and tags are lost. The evidence has to be submitted promptly, and this is difficult for herders in isolated villages.&nbsp; Insurance agents are based in headquarters like Chame in Manang and are not willing to travel all the way up. Similarly, photographic evidence needs to be assessed by veterinarians who are also reluctant to go to remote areas that take up days. “The compensation policy hasn’t changed in the last 20 years,” says <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/snow-leopard-redux">Tashi R Ghale</a>, high-altitude wildlife photographer and conservationist. “Here in Manang, herders would get Rs6,000 in compensation for a yak when the market rate was Rs20,000. The market rate is now Rs150,000 but they still get only Rs6,000. Even then, they have to wait for months.” Brian Peniston feels improving and tailoring compensation suitable to the landscape is of utmost priority, and the schemes need to be more accessible and effective as well as herder friendly. He adds, “Local governments should be handed authority in these matters, and it should be equal parts trust and verify. It is over-verification at the moment.” Climate breakdown has added to the challenge of snow leopard conservation. Either blizzards or winter droughts mean fewer prey for the mountain cats, this in turn has also led to leopards preying on livestock. Usually, the wild prey to livestock ratio in a snow leopard diet is 70:30. Blue sheep (pictured below) are the main prey species for snow leopards, but there is now competition with lowland spotted leopards which have moved up the mountains, while the Himalayan wolf has descended. The prey density may not have decreased, but predator species have more than doubled.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127070156_f23ed8414be46782c90df4198d46c30f423d63d59f97343f89760283011c7c0b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250127070156_f23ed8414be46782c90df4198d46c30f423d63d59f97343f89760283011c7c0b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="1050" loading="lazy" alt="snow leopard conservation in Nepal"> <figcaption>The climate crisis has meant that lowland spotted leopards which have moved up the mountains, while the Himalayan wolf has descended, leading to a reduced number of blue sleep which is one of the main prey species for snow leopards. Photo: SHAILENDRA THAKALI</figcaption> </figure>  Other disrupters include <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-human-cost-of-nepal-s-yarsa-gold-rush">overharvesting of yarsagumba</a> and increased movement in this fragile landscape, with adverse impacts on all wildlife, not just snow leopards. Expansion of the road network to the remotest corners of the country is another concern, adding to the risk of human-wildlife conflict and poaching.&nbsp; “There has been much research on snow leopard behaviour in the last 30 years but what we haven’t done nearly enough is study human behaviour,” says Peniston. Despite the challenges, the rebound of snow leopard populations has increased the opportunity to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards">snow leopard viewing eco-tourism</a>, as is being practiced in Dolpo.&nbsp; Says <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/ice-to-water-alv4lorf">Tashi R Ghale</a>: “Local communities here in Manang and Dolpo are doing what they can, but the Nepal Tourism Board needs to step in to promote snow leopard trekking and tourism. The co-benefits would motivate communities to protect the big cats.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127070156_698d64632273185cecbcaca626c7c49861ba54a0930119843792572f01114942.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250127070156_698d64632273185cecbcaca626c7c49861ba54a0930119843792572f01114942" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="snow leopard conservation in Nepal"> <figcaption>FIND ME: Elusive in nature, snow leopard sightings are rare and often only detected on camera traps (below). Spot the snow leopard in this picture taken by conservationist Tshiring Lhamu Lama in Dolpo, a hotspot for big cats in Nepal. Photos: TSHIRING LHAMU LAMA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012708018_42acdb2ba0c5941b1c3a89ede1bac048808d6424f4c70aadb68df6ab5176bbb6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="2025012708018_42acdb2ba0c5941b1c3a89ede1bac048808d6424f4c70aadb68df6ab5176bbb6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2041" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Snow leopard conservation in Nepal"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Ghosts of the Himalaya

Just few days into office, President Donald Trump has brought about a work-stop to ongoing USAID supported projects and complete stop to new grants or aids. The executive order was justified under Trump’s ‘America First’ promise, and it has shaken up recipient countries, including Nepal. Since 1951, USAID has provided $1.5 billion in aid to Nepal. The breakdown for recent years is $105.94 million for 2020-21 and US$ 125 million in 2018-19. In 2022, USAID and Nepal signed a five-year Development Objective Agreement worth $659 million (pictured, above).&nbsp; Some of the key sectors where USAID has supported and supports Nepal with aid include health, education, agriculture, infrastructure; economic growth, humanitarian aid and women and children empowerment. All of these projects will be affected, and grants disbursement suspended. According to USAID’s Country Development Cooperation Strategy (December 2020-December 2025), the overall goal of the USAID’s development cooperation in Nepal is to realise ‘A more self-reliant, prosperous, and inclusive Nepal that delivers improved democratic governance and health and education outcomes.’ Four identified development objectives are:&nbsp; i) More Effective, Participatory, and Equitable Democratic Ecosystem ii) Broad-Based and Inclusive Economic Growth Fostered iii) Inclusive Health and Education Systems Strengthened iv) More Equitable and Improved Natural Resources and Disaster Risk. Under these development goal and objectives as per the data available under Government of Nepal’s Aid Management Platform (AMP) there are currently USAID supported 21 key projects ongoing in Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250126090140_0bd9163cb9826464409887995eb8f2eff42c7cf1269610c3761773cde59ff52c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250126090140_0bd9163cb9826464409887995eb8f2eff42c7cf1269610c3761773cde59ff52c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="825" loading="lazy" alt="USAID fund in nepal after Trump"> </figure>  These 21 projects with some data missing totals a commitment of $178,140,467 from 2021-2029 in Nepal. Of these commitments $89,115,031 (about half) have already been disbursed. With Trump’s executive order the rest of the 50% is now going to be on hold until the review is completed and further decisions are made by the new US administration.&nbsp; Most development goals of USAID in Nepal are embedded with key principles like ‘equity’ and ‘inclusive’. With the Trump government’s aversion to the previous emphasis on Gender, Equity, Inclusion and Accessibility (GEIA) principles, projects focusing on those issues will be hit hardest. USAID upheld policies and actions that promoted equal access and opportunities for all people, with an emphasis on the Tarai, gender issues, family health and through contractors on human rights and democracy. The impact on Nepal’s development aid will be substantial, affecting livelihoods in incomes generated by USAID supported projects. Individual independent consulants already received notices over the weekend that the work they were &nbsp;doing under a USAID contract is subject to work-stop now.&nbsp; The question is whether the 5-year Country Development Cooperation Strategy for Nepal that finishes by end-2025 will go ahead. And when the new post-2025 Strategy is formulated, it is certain that the Trump’s administration will not entertain GDEI, which so far has been people-centered and not political.&nbsp; Kishor Pradhan is an independent development consultant concentrating on development information and knowledge management issues. <a href="mailto:kishorpradhanktm@gmail.com" target="_blank">kishorpradhanktm@gmail.com</a>

How USAID cut affects Nepal

Growing up in the village of Tochigi where only 17% of Japanese have a passport, little did I dream one day of travelling internationally. But here I am on a university field trip in Nepal, visiting my 37th country.&nbsp; Nepal is special because this is where my quiet, soft-spoken and adventurous grandfather Takeo Yamanoi came in the 1950s to climb peaks. He was a mountaineer, and he loved Nepal and the Himalaya. My grandfather started climbing when he was in his high school mountaineering club. He was caught in an avalanche in 1950 which killed four of his friends and the team leader. He was miraculously saved when rescuers saw his fingers sticking out of the snow. Nonetheless, rather than giving in fear, he channelled this tragic experience into an even deeper appreciation for mountains. He would say in his characteristic understated way: “Mountaineering is a gentleman’s sport. There are no judges or spectators.”&nbsp; His philosophy was that climbing was not all about triumph or setting new records, but a quiet, personal commune with nature. His passion for mountains ultimately took him far away from a Japan that was just recovering from war. And it was the Himalaya that drew him, and where he found his calling. In 1958, he tried to climb Himalchuli, the world’s 18th highest mountain at just under 8,000m. He could not reach the summit, but this only fueled his passion for climbing. In 1964, he climbed the technically difficult Baruntse (7,162m). I can only imagine the sense of accomplishment he felt as he gazed out at hundreds of peaks all around, including Makalu and Mt Everest.&nbsp; In his later years, my grandfather found a new way to stay connected with Nepal, a country he was obsessed with and which he repeatedly visited. Out of a desire to give back to the land and the people that welcomed him with open arms, he devoted himself to social work. Among other things, he helped build a public toilet in Patan in 1999.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250123080120_5aacdd625376eb9d9f30ba0d20a1c0a688628675a76337651ceaf0e6c74b2f94.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250123080120_5aacdd625376eb9d9f30ba0d20a1c0a688628675a76337651ceaf0e6c74b2f94" data-rendition-name="original" width="1403" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="My grandfather's footsteps NT"> <figcaption>My grandfather in Kathmandu in 1999 at the inauguration of the public toilet. This was the photograph that provided a clue that the facility was located in Ward 6.</figcaption> </figure>  The local Paropakar charity gifted him a painting of Lord Buddha visiting his birthplace after enlightenment as a token of appreciation. As a boy, I remember being captivated by this framed art work that my grandfather brought back from Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250123080120_82e7e1e84eb20a09ad56d9010d891e21f25da43311cdb93e40bc89aee57d68ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250123080120_82e7e1e84eb20a09ad56d9010d891e21f25da43311cdb93e40bc89aee57d68ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1132" height="705" loading="lazy" alt="My grandfather's footsteps NT"> <figcaption>The framed painting of Lord Buddha that was presented to my grandfather by the Paropakar Organisation 25 years ago that he brought back to Japan.</figcaption> </figure>  He did not talk much with his family about his achievements, and in fact the only information we have about his climbing and other work in Nepal is limited to a few photographs and what his friends wrote about him. As I learnt more about him through pictures and books, my desire to trace his footsteps to Nepal only grew.&nbsp; I was in Kathmandu this month on a university fieldtrip, and used the opportunity to track down the public facility he built. In one of the few pictures he left there was a clue to where it was: Ward 6 of the Lalitpur Sub-Metropolitan City. I asked around, but none of the Nepalis I met could find me any leads. Eventually, I found my way to Ward 6 and tracked down its chair, Rupendra Raj Shakya. At the &nbsp;Ward office, Shakya welcomed me with a red khata (pictured), and identified the person in the middle of my grandfather’s photograph as his predecessor who had died in an accident. “Now it is a parking space, but there used to be a garden in front of the office with a toilet built by Japanese people,” remembered. “It was located where the small blue car is parked now, next to the well.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250123080120_fe94a0300c82324d68ccb80859198ccc65b0997a40b6f9563e62d9850acaceb7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250123080120_fe94a0300c82324d68ccb80859198ccc65b0997a40b6f9563e62d9850acaceb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="My grandfather's footsteps NT"> <figcaption>A view from the Ward office looking at the well near which the facility my grandfather helped build.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250123080120_38ee5ee895f9b330e078f4b2781571a2926ca5cce5dd5e84261541ae4053e966.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250123080120_38ee5ee895f9b330e078f4b2781571a2926ca5cce5dd5e84261541ae4053e966" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="My grandfather's footsteps NT"> <figcaption>The exact spot of the public toilet that my grandfather helped build in Patan Ward 6.</figcaption> </figure>  My heart sank because I realised that the structure my grandfather built had been replaced by a concrete building. Yet, I felt a sense of appreciation and fulfilment to be retracing my grandfather’s footsteps 40 years later. His legacy endured in the hearts of the people whom he touched and his spirit is passed down to me. As our plane took off from Kathmandu, the mountains came into view. My mind took me back to that quiet man in his climbing boots and ropes, gazing up at the impossibly high peaks he climbed.&nbsp; Every time I recall his gentle heart and humility, his spirit of adventure whispers to me, reassuring me that no matter where I go, he is by my side. His love remains with me, guiding my steps, just like the climbing ropes guided him up the Himalayan mountains many decades ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250123080124_b5a145ee-cecd-423b-be66-e21484137f91.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250123080124_b5a145ee-cecd-423b-be66-e21484137f91" data-rendition-name="original" width="1260" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="My grandfather's footsteps NT"> <figcaption>A photograph of the previous Ward Chair (middle) and my grandfather wearing a Nepali cap (right) during one of his visits.</figcaption> </figure>

My grandfather’s footsteps

E-governance in Nepal was supposed to make the state more efficient and reduce corruption. But going digital has meant that things are harder to get done, and slower. And it has not stopped corruption.&nbsp; Whether it has to do with biometrics for a new national ID, renew a driving license, obtain a passport, or get property registered, citizens have to shuttle between &nbsp;windows to get work done.&nbsp; At each stop they are told a different story of the set of documents needed. When they finally have all the papers, there is still a five month wait, although printing and programming a card should really take five minutes. There is a classic Soviet-era joke in which a Russian goes to buy a car and gets a delivery date for ten years in the future. He asks for an afternoon slot because he’s got the plumber coming in the morning. The whole ordeal is annoying, exhausting, and humiliating. It is also redundant, and does not save any paperwork. A passport should work as citizenship and National ID. There are four different types of private vehicle license plates on the roads, and all are valid. E-government is inevitable because the digital divide is narrowing around the world. But Nepal’s bureaucracy seems to not want to let go of finger prints on lokta paper even though the biometric system is available.&nbsp; All this inconvenience is one reason young Nepalis cite for leaving the country. They want to go to a place where they do not have to pay a middleman to get a driving license, and then wait two years for the card to arrive. Ironically, Nepal’s private sector has almost completely switched to digital payments, online shopping, and ride shares. There are 700 Nepali tech companies that code healthcare software, design AI applications, animation, video games for clients abroad. Last year alone, the country earned $900 million exporting digital products. &nbsp; It is not that the government is not trying to change things. A recent ordinance allows Nepali companies to have offices and invest abroad. BS 2080-89 has been declared an ‘IT Decade’.&nbsp; “Although great policies are made, the government does not release funds needed to implement them,” says IT expert and former police DIG Rajib Subba.&nbsp; “When you break down the score Nepal has received on the UN EDGI metric, most are because of policy. As we go digital, there need to be laws to define cybercrime.”&nbsp; E-governance specialist Nagesh Badu thinks policy is vital. When local governments are approached about cross-sharing data, they ask for the policy where it says they must comply. Cross-sharing data is the main point of e-governance. What citizens are giving up in privacy they should expect to get back at least in convenience. It makes no sense to have to give out biometrics and still having to put thumb prints on paper.&nbsp; “Many e-services are simply used for reporting purposes,” Badu says. “If you have a five-column table you can’t even create a sixth that gets you averages.”&nbsp; Separate systems for health and education may have records of the same child with no way to cross-reference them. Data is reported, but not used to support decision-making. “The big problem is that these systems don’t talk to each other,” says Buda. Subba agrees: “Good e-governance relies on official organisations working together, to link data and get things done.” One reason it is not working is that these systems were made long ago, and without considering that collected data may have several users in various agencies. Another reason government offices resist digitisation is that data transparency will reveal corruption. Even non-corrupt officials may fear how access to data might affect their jobs. Officials may use the excuse that a server is down, or that a software does not work, to avoid adopting new systems. One way to solve the problem is a start-from-scratch approach. The government recently released a 'Formation Order Amendment' for an e-governance commission. Part of it is to build a Data Exchange Platform, that would in theory link these different bases of information. Another complaint about e-government is in using online forms. When filling out a form to renew a license, for example, it is near impossible to fill it out at home. The assumption is that form-filling middlemen outside the offices have people on the inside who ensure that the form websites only work on their devices or networks. “It can also simply be because these are ancient systems that were not designed for the scale they currently face,” says Badu. It is assumed in systems engineering that systems have about a 13-year life span. Ten years to become obsolete, and three to make the needed changes. So instead of malice, it may just be that the systems were not maintained over time and hence need an upgrade. Another factor slowing down e-governance is that policy-makers and bureaucrats do not know about tech, and have no concept of how a system works, or what it takes to maintain and improve. At the top are political and administrative careerists, instead of people with technical knowledge and work experience. This means IT projects are now seeing large levels of corruption, which causes policy-makers shy away from moving any digitisation initiatives forward.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012502010_83ca70b7dfab924d508ccf1cd3fc6d4a39d08de26ddf4e86a7e35a65ce12d593.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025012502010_83ca70b7dfab924d508ccf1cd3fc6d4a39d08de26ddf4e86a7e35a65ce12d593" data-rendition-name="original" width="1470" height="966" loading="lazy" alt="E-governance in Nepal"> <figcaption>Illustrations: DIWAKAR CHETTRI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012502010_12982beeb2dd3eab391476ff26c204f69255b651d11cb3bde52ca8bea07b6e13.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025012502010_12982beeb2dd3eab391476ff26c204f69255b651d11cb3bde52ca8bea07b6e13" data-rendition-name="original" width="1470" height="966" loading="lazy" alt="E-governance in Nepal"> </figure>  Electronic Files The lack of expertise also stalls progress. The Dahal government in June 2023 closed down the National Information Tech Centre so it could have a fresh start. However, it took time for work to be done on a replacement body, during which contracted workers were not paid and server licenses expired. And when executors asked for money to restart efforts, the debate was whether a dissolved body could be given money.&nbsp; “Someone with tech know-how wouldn’t have made that decision abruptly. They might have had a better exit strategy,” says Badu. To be sure, Nepal has taken big leaps in digitisation. E-payments by phone are now everywhere: allowing convenient payments of utility bills online. You can even get bailed out of jail via QR code.&nbsp; On a smaller scale, Subba has an example of a system that took one police report directly to who it needed to go to, saving 12 signature-collection trips for the peon to 'move' the file. &nbsp;&nbsp; “Even that is fantastic progress,” he says. Complaints about the systems can be looked as things to fix instead of as permanent faults. A fresh announcement is that the National ID will be available on the Nagarik App, and it can be used to fill out passport and bank forms quicker. The Nagarik App is a good idea in theory: one app that holds different IDs and certificates, and can be used for Singha Darbar passes and lots more. However, the app has got failing reviews online. ‘The screen does not proceed to the UI for entering the OTP. Stuck in middle of nowhere. Please, fix the issue,’ says one. ‘I’d signed up and uploaded all my documents, but the app made me re-register from the beginning,’ says another. ‘Everytime there is some kind of issue,’ says one frustrated user. ‘I think this app is made by interns,’ another Nepali gets to the point. With all these systems and data, there is also the question of security. When all financial systems become digital, so do heists. Computer bank robbers can get into organisations through security flaws in old printers, for example. “They choose to strike near holidays, which buys them more time to launder the money, often millions of dollars. They transfer funds to high-privacy places and exchange it for casino currency. A heist last Tihar used this strategy,” recalls Subba. “Data is the new oil,” he adds. Biometric data in the hands of the wrong people can be used to steal identities, authorise bank transactions, or for blackmail. The more places Nepalis have to give their biometrics, the more the chances that their personal data will be leaked.&nbsp; Sometimes the developers of softwares are corrupt themselves. A supposed passport data breach that involved Nepalis in Saudi Arabia turned out to be orchestrated by a software company to try and get the embassy to adopt new versions of the software. Other lapses have involved the SUTRA system. Two days of revenue data was simply lost, and had to be re-entered from physical records that were lucky enough to have been preserved.&nbsp; The government now needs to make IT and e-governance as much of a priority as hydropower or migration. As every Nepali has to engage with the government many times during their life, having an inefficient system collectively wastes colossal amounts of time and resources. Becoming Singapore Singapore’s GoBusiness, for example, is an online platform designed to be a ‘one-stop shop’ for those looking to set up businesses. The platform connects business owners to different government services, including company registration and license applications.&nbsp; Companies are allowed to have 100% foreign ownership and can be up and running in 1-3 days. The result? High levels of direct foreign investment and more entrepreneurs. Contrast that to Nepal’s dealings with SpaceX’s Starlink Internet services. Starlink already works in countries like Nicaragua and Nigeria, and adopting it can save the government massive amounts of internet set-up and maintenance, especially in rural Nepal.&nbsp; But the government decided not to go ahead because of a policy that states that at least 20% of the business should be local. “We have the Ministry of Communication and Information Technology, but it is focused mainly on the communication part,” explains Badu.&nbsp; India has a Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology. The new Trump government has close ties with the tech industry through Musk, Bezos, Zuckerberg, who were all seated at his inauguration.&nbsp; Trump’s cabinet includes an AI Czar, and he has already announced a potentially $500 billion private sector investment project for AI infrastructure in the US. Digital will be the way things are done, and Nepal better be already on it. Given how fast things change in the tech industry, Nepal and its e-government plans must be ramped up and executed at the highest levels.&nbsp; Policies need to be more strategic: it should be assumed that new approaches will bring new problems. A smooth, minimal bureaucratic process should become the expected norm and not a pleasant surprise. &nbsp;&nbsp;

E-GoN

Top news

Twenty years ago, on 1 February 2005, King Gyanendra staged an army-backed coup. A few days before that, we had written in an editorial that Nepal was running out of options: even moderates were being pushed to be radically republican or radically royalist. There were also signs of infighting within the Maoists, including desertions and resistance.
The coup did not protect Gyanendra. Within 14 months he was sidelined and a peace accord to end the Maoist insurgency was put forward. In another 3 years, the monarchy would be abolished by the Constituent Assembly. &nbsp;&nbsp;
An excerpt of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1288">editorial</a> published in <a href="https://d1i1jdw69xsqx0.cloudfront.net/digitalhimalaya/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_232.pdf">issue #232 28 January – 3 February 2005</a>:
King Gyanendra…is now down to just two options: consolidate his takeover and scrap the constitution once and for all, or roll back October Fourth and restore a semblance of democracy. The international community has reportedly sent unambiguous signals that he desist from the temptation to go it alone. By now, it must be clear even to him that the musical chairs game of Article 127 can’t go on. The king therefore needs a face-saving way out, and the only one we see is for him to join hands with a rejuvenated political process.&nbsp;
Out of Nepal’s 25 million people, there are probably only some 150 (arms merchants, hawks on both sides, toy boys) who benefit from this conflict. The rest don’t want to have anything to do with it. But his peace constituency is not organised and represented to articulate its wish. The people have been let down by the people they elected, by a palace that is supposed to care, and by revolutionaries who have brought nothing but ruin.
Of the three, the only way to give the people back their voice is to allow them to speak through their representatives. The parliamentary parties may have squandered democracy, but it is they who have lost the most, physically and psychologically, in the past nine years. Whether it is to restore parliament, reform the constitution, have elections, engage the Maoists in negotiations, bringing the parties back in the picture is the least-cost option. Despite their sins only parties in a genuine democracy offer the self-correcting mechanism needed to get us out of this mess.&nbsp;
For archived material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com">nepalitimes.com</a>

1 February

In December, the Nepal government announced it would not allow a Beijing-appointed Tibetan spiritual leader, the Panchen Lama, to attend a Buddhist conference in Kathmandu. Immigration at the airport was put on high alert to ensure he did not try to sneak in.&nbsp; Coming soon after Prime Minister K P Oli’s visit to China, that decision underscored Nepal’s precarious tight-rope act in addressing religio-political sensitivities in its relations with China. The Panchen Lama episode can be seen as a test for Nepal’s handling of the succession of the Dalai Lama, who turns 90 in July. “When the time comes to find a successor to the Dalai Lama, Nepal will face a larger policy dilemma,” predicts Sudheer Sharma, author of two recent books on Nepal-China relations. “The government is still unclear what it will do if the successor is chosen from the Tibetan community in Nepal, or from China or India.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/dalai-lama-gets-block-of-glacial-ice">The Dalai Lama</a> is the spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism and a symbol of Tibetan identity; he is revered as the manifestation of Avalokitesvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. He was born in 1935 in northeastern Tibet and was formally recognised as the Dalai Lama in 1940.&nbsp; He has been living in exile in Dharamsala for the past 65 years after fleeing Lhasa following the Chinese takeover. He has been allowed to make a low-profile visit to Lumbini only once in 1987, and never after that due to objections from China.&nbsp; Nepal does not have a national strategy to handle the presence of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-sherpas-mourn-tengboche-abbott">religious leaders</a>. If there are policies, they are ad-hoc or undeclared, depending on the government of the day in Kathmandu. The Nepal government, under Chinese pressure, even prevents public celebrations marking the Dalai Lama’s birthday on 6 July. “The Dalai Lama’s attempts to visit Nepal again have been stopped &nbsp;since Nepal thinks he is not only a religious leader, but a political figure as well,” says Sharma. “There is no discussion in Nepal’s political circles regarding the succession of the Dalai Lama. The topic is regarded as a non-issue.”&nbsp; Over the years, the Dalai Lama has made various statements regarding his succession. At times, he has suggested that he will write a will to select a successor from within the Tibetan community. On other occasions, he has hinted that the next Dalai Lama could be chosen from a “free country”, and could even be a woman.&nbsp; The Panchen Lama succession in 1995 could provide a hint about how the post-Dalai Lama era will play out. The Panchen Lama is the second most important spiritual leader in Tibetan Buddhism, and heads the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18580">Tashilhunpo Monastery in Xigatse</a>, the epicentre of the 7 January earthquake, located 250km away from Lhasa.&nbsp; The Panchen Lama traditionally has the role of finding the next Dalai Lama, but the previous Panchen Lama (Lobsang Trinley Lhundrup Choekyi Gyaltsen) has been missing since 1995, after the Chinese installed their own candidate (Gyaltsen Norbu). The present Panchen Lama’s visits are carefully planned, and he has made only one foreign visit so far, to Thailand. “Nepal did not permit Panchen Lama’s visit as he is Chinese Communist Party-appointed, thus making him a political figure,” says Amish Mulmi, author of the book All Roads Lead North.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250124090148_3bb3d803c04c34657d0ac9759ca904073f75734a446506f8a57e50178b381c00.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250124090148_3bb3d803c04c34657d0ac9759ca904073f75734a446506f8a57e50178b381c00" data-rendition-name="original" width="1087" height="697" loading="lazy" alt="Dalai Lama NT"> </figure>  What China was trying to do through the Panchen Lama’s visit for the Nanhai Conference in Kathmandu last month was to project its soft power, and perhaps prepare the ground for the Dalai Lama succession. But the ban raised the question of what Nepal will do if there is a visit by Hindutva figures from India at events in Nepal.&nbsp; Religious leaders and figures from various faiths regularly visit Nepal for devotional events, meetings and conferences. Their trips are often significant for promoting dialogue and cultural exchange, and cannot be banned under the Constitution. “We did the Nanhai Conference, and in future religious leaders will definitely visit Nepal. The question arises whether or not to allow them to engage in political activities or not,” says Mulmi. “Religion has always been political. So Nepal must not take easy decisions and must think it through.” Although Nepal and Tibet fought wars in the past two centuries, they share deep-rooted and ancient cultural, religious and trade ties. After the Chinese annexation of Tibet 70 years ago, Kathmandu gradually started dealing directly with Beijing.&nbsp; Today, Nepal is the only country with a consulate in Lhasa, a city from where the only direct international flight is to Kathmandu. Over the years, these ties have evolved, with shifts in trade dynamics and people-to-people interactions reflecting broader regional and global changes. Despite this, the historical bond between Nepal and Tibet remains a significant aspect of present-day bilateral relations with China, and this is why the selection of the next Dalai Lama has resonance here. “It is clear that China has been trying to adopt Tibetan Buddhism as a soft power. It is trying to co-opt Tibetan Buddhism on the lines of China’s ambitions and narratives,” explains Mulmi.&nbsp; The Dalai Lama’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14733">considerable following</a> in Nepal, India, Europe and the United States is an irritant for Beijing. Recent Sino-American tensions have therefore given the spiritual ownership of Tibetan Buddhism a geopolitical dimension, and in this the Dalai Lama succession will become an important factor.&nbsp; Relations between Washington and Beijing during the second Trump term will have a bearing on this. As a buffer state between India and China, Nepal has historically tried to maintain equidistance between the two powers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025012308014_95372c819980513e21490c3abe2aa8e712af6c89c5829e04d5f57880ad4f2a23.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025012308014_95372c819980513e21490c3abe2aa8e712af6c89c5829e04d5f57880ad4f2a23" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="What (or who) after the Dalai Lama NT"> <figcaption>THEIR HOLINESSES: The Dalai Lama, who will be 90 in July (left), and China-installed Panchen Lama (above). Traditionally, it is the Panchen Lama who has a role in finding a new Dalai Lama. Photos: TENZIN CHOEJOR (left) / CHINAN NEWS SERVICE (right)</figcaption> </figure>  But China has rarely stuck its neck out for Nepal. Despite repeated requests for military help during its war with the British East India Company in 1814-16, the emperor in Beijing refused.&nbsp; Explains Sudheer Sharma: “China did not want to get involved with the British. They thought of their own national interests then, and they are thinking of their own national interests now with India.” During the Khampa Uprising in the 1960s, Kathmandu was also squeezed between American support for the guerrillas and China’s objections to Nepal being used as a base. But with the Nixon-Mao rapprochement in 1972, the Americans stopped helping the Khampas. Nepal then yielded to pressure from Mao Zedong to mount a military campaign to drive them out.&nbsp; Nepal was left to manage and host Tibetan refugees, and balance that with China’s security concerns. Explains Amish Mulmi: “Nepal has pretty much done everything China has asked to do, including deporting Tibetans. China doesn’t need to be insecure, but Nepal needs to maintain a careful balance.” Today, despite Donald Trump’s chest-thumping and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trump-s-second-coming">threats of a tariff war against Beijing</a>, he and Chinese President Xi Jinping are on the same page regarding democracy and freedoms. Which may mean Washington could once more leave the Tibetans in a lurch, and this could have a direct bearing on the Dalai Lama succession sequence. The United States' shifting foreign policy has often been criticised for leaving allies and partners to fend for themselves. Trump may revive his pressure on Japan, Korea and Taiwan to pay for the US defence umbrella.&nbsp; Nepal’s stance on the Tibetan community relies on marking boundaries and offering protection. During Chinese President Xi Jinping’s visit to Nepal, China proposed that Nepal sign an extradition treaty which Nepal politely refused. “Nepal has tactfully not let the Chinese side extend a longer hand on the Tibetan issue,” says Sharma. “Possibly, we are learning our lessons from history.” The question of who will choose the successor to the Dalai Lama will be decided by geopolitics, and China’s increased stature as a global economic power.&nbsp; Beijing could insist on sticking to tradition to let its candidate for the Panchen Lama make the final decision. This would allow it to move the seat of the Dalai Lama from Dharamshala back to Lhasa. The present Dalai Lama could also appoint his own candidate, but that person will not be allowed into Tibet by China. In that case, we may have a situation where there are two Dalai Lamas.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250127030140_c9048725407641601bc68568db19e48197154cd6396f39d67ab113d94c26e675.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250127030140_c9048725407641601bc68568db19e48197154cd6396f39d67ab113d94c26e675" data-rendition-name="original" width="1910" height="757" loading="lazy" alt="Voice for the Voiceless Dalai Lama"> <figcaption>Dalai Lama's latest book Voice for the Voiceless details his dealings with China over the last seven decades. </figcaption> </figure>

What (or who) after the Dalai Lama?

Between the 1980s and 2000s, over 5,000 <a href="https://download.ssrn.com/11/01/06/ssrn_id1736064_code1383023.pdf?response-content-disposition=inline&amp;X-Amz-Security-Token=IQoJb3JpZ2luX2VjEBkaCXVzLWVhc3QtMSJIMEYCIQCiYUc7BuJ7zaDn%2BOTCFOWBgNKqYarnapqY%2FWZbamFVsgIhAOC%2FPFXHR9Dx6xTicWMj5%2BJXdIEGZ7LxKRyjrCe61Ng9KsYFCPL%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2FwEQBBoMMzA4NDc1MzAxMjU3IgzWD1Y1XNz2kaOS3jEqmgX0TbxyBTTrZrpd%2B5N72pFzJAwc%2BxTF8Dc0GnVG2tUGUYyxBt1YmfEqAw5cdOuRCZV23SSKkJwndg9IwI3yrjZGBp9XKxg4lK4Vq0Qy9RMmma5hNCVnA2T0MwGghlnmkgWPZA5ouZPiKFAecf4PE5qml2fu1wj72LEAig5R77cN6nC6%2BxTcygMiuiHrR9yZB4RyvTD9s58avGqUcn9hcIUdku3ydvAGVEgczzgEMCesRMtSgqzHz3E9bju9QLR5RpcDRp0wptfQ89uGXgyBGLCX%2BAl6uareSxQCSaDOthP4PmswWI7y7kBJbQp1pZq8r56Yoa3Qf5WVtmxbsWmDtbOsaSBa0yB6EIS8RKFGeQ%2Bcz%2BnEsOoPHIS%2BqO1k1%2BQuihjN0T66SnWFo8rl8Cv2g4GghY9p9DR3wopBJ6cE%2FtDJMY%2BZ03LkUwS%2Fc7ckyaRpfPX5g6Bb9J56a%2BNA5lnIV5o%2Fpjp%2BZJaVIvEzciyzzTwP58wznmcy3xppvK%2BwXBzBR96cPMXKTdNv9%2FqJ5jlnsgSRJpHWE3UyHbFucwQYXi19i7mCglFSuSkkL5Tg9nQWvXpuP9Z9VmMlQfQ%2F%2FpsfA6KlL81K3UK%2Bp%2FJB2mxQD9SYexZvAf1g21NUSF%2F8I19orsNrT6LutAnoJU%2FOTgO3qMbdgnR%2FuBytI3POnQAEIfbG0Za%2FrEDJ9j8CEbasNXsBMqkx8JKGRG2PUHMRC2xl5Z%2BNIbpsqGB8t%2BvAt40osDpgZStiyeiGdC1nMakUzZtBjWlttzoirCdemwPKJ8M%2BEohj2%2BLEN92yaOKdFewns0gjh%2BUxcotGvBo%2F7QZFappBNjLlR0PyanjcuB4MndEQjeIrd67ntscTKiLDI%2FfzwCHulsl6nbMpewpWFAYwg67guwY6sAGb3VJ2q%2F36hWhrVa8igP2hswnnLlcIU2uhOZa5ge2hCXkUYhL1BcSJfoWy2LwrWCXtdFo%2BT7KMU3p6O3jySdxSop8F4iO%2BJBiXVjSiXm%2FqZo3ri8sVwUgo4ksJI%2BT4AbfK3D3VGYapBgU5LdX%2FjkNwSVoR1vz4vMIyF56i7MKeYG1nFLgc0l9cIjrQI6eY869uIbgZ1XKqqBsuavCbYjSbSy7dMP0QSym%2FgmoWILGE0Q%3D%3D&amp;X-Amz-Algorithm=AWS4-HMAC-SHA256&amp;X-Amz-Date=20250103T172339Z&amp;X-Amz-SignedHeaders=host&amp;X-Amz-Expires=300&amp;X-Amz-Credential=ASIAUPUUPRWE65YAH56X%2F20250103%2Fus-east-1%2Fs3%2Faws4_request&amp;X-Amz-Signature=9b654b526e0779da4fa9f54e2fcde04ac9f7e91fb50d4f8094b1039ebb19e21b&amp;abstractId=1736064">Nepali children were adopted abroad</a>, primarily to the United States, France, and Spain. While international adoption was intended to provide vulnerable children with better opportunities, child trafficking and irregular practices prompted Nepal to suspend adoptions in 2007, and overhaul its policies. By 2010, stricter regulations aligned with the <a href="https://www.hcch.net/en/instruments/conventions/specialised-sections/intercountry-adoption">Hague Adoption Convention</a> drastically reduced adoption numbers. Today, many of these children, now adults, are returning to Nepal in search of their roots, only to encounter a society that no longer recognises them, legally or socially. Behind the statistics lie the <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01GRNPPXAC1Z3AETV9HARNCG5Q">deeply personal and emotional journey</a> of adoptees returning to reconnect with their past, seek family, and rediscover a sense of belonging. These stories reflect a broader struggle for identity and the complexities of bridging two worlds. Maya Adopted at 9 by a family in Barcelona, Maya carried fragmented memories of her early life in Nepal including the painful recollection of the day her mother and sister vanished, leaving her and her younger siblings behind. She had faint images of her mother, elder sister, and the village where she once lived. In June 2017, Maya came to Nepal accompanied by Chandra Kala and two friends, Jay and Vikram. With only a few photographs of her mother Tulsi, her elder sister Pargati, and her brother-in-law Kamal, along with a street name, Maya arrived in Birendranagar after a 20-hour bus ride from Kathmandu. “Now that we’re close, I feel like I can’t face them,” she confessed to Chandra Kala, wrestling with anxiety about what she might uncover. “I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’ll recognise them or if they’ll recognise me. I don’t know how they’ll react or what they’ll say. And then there’s him [Kamal]. I have such bad memories of him. I don’t know if I can handle this.” Chandra Kala reassured her, reminding her of her courage and the importance of this moment. Maya and her companions asked around the town with little success until a shopkeeper recognised Kamal and directed them to a nearby village. Jay went to confirm and returned excitedly, shouting, “It’s her! It’s your sister!” Maya froze, paralysed by fear and anticipation but she pushed ahead. At the village, Maya’s sister Pargati initially struggled to recognise her. Jay introduced Maya: “Do you recognise her? This is your younger sister. She’s come all the way from Spain to find you.” Slowly, realisation dawned, and the two women embraced, bridging the decades of separation with tears and disbelief. The next day, Maya met her mother Tulsi in an emotionally overwhelming reunion. Tulsi rushed into the room and embraced Maya tightly, sobbing uncontrollably: “Mero chhora-chhori, gaye, gaye… my children they went, they went …” Once the tears subsided, Tulsi and Pargati began recounting the heartbreaking circumstances of their separation. After the death of her husband, Tulsi faced relentless judgment in their village when Kamal stayed with the family before his marriage to Pargati. The villagers accused Tulsi of impropriety, calling her पापी (sinful) and demanded that the family leave. “We didn’t want to leave, but the village didn’t want us here,” explained Pargati. “We left intending to bring you and your siblings later. But when we returned, you were gone.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>An adoptee and companion return to Bal Mandir in Kathmandu after 19 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  Tulsi recalled how she had entrusted Maya and her siblings to relatives, hoping they would be cared for temporarily. However, when she returned, the children had been sent away without her knowledge. “I only trusted them because I had no other choice,” Tulsi said through tears. “I didn’t know they would send my children away. What kind of mother does that make me? They called me a bad mother, but what else could I have done?” The reunion brought healing and answers but it also exposed the societal pressures that had fractured Maya’s family. Despite the challenges, Maya spent the rest of her visit bonding with her sister, nieces, and younger half-sister, Sunita, slowly bridging the gaps created by time and distance. Maya’s journey was a testament to the courage required to confront the past, the pain of uncovering difficult truths, and the hope of rebuilding connections once lost. Her story highlights the enduring emotional complexity faced by adoptees navigating their history and identity. Ashmita Unlike some adoptees whose main focus is reuniting with their biological family, 26-year-old Ashmita’s priority has been to uncover the institutional details surrounding her adoption. She wanted to understand what the orphanage and the government knew about her background and why so much information seemed concealed. “I just want to know where I come from,” she said. “Even if I never find my biological family, having a better sense of the places and people connected to my story would mean so much.” For many adoptees, returning to Nepal is not just about reconnecting emotionally, it is about seeking formal recognition as members of the Nepali community. However, the legal framework in Nepal often fails to acknowledge their unique status.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>A mother reunites with her don after 18 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  In Nepali law, adoptees are left in limbo: their birth parents are not considered legal parents, and their ties to the country are effectively erased upon adoption. This lack of recognition creates significant hurdles, particularly in two key areas: accessing pre-adoption records and obtaining Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) status. Despite international norms like the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which guarantees the right to know one’s origins, institutions often refuse to cooperate. Orphanages and non-profits in Nepal, which hold critical pre-adoption records such as birth certificates and citizenship documents, frequently withhold this information, reflecting the systemic reluctance to provide transparency. In numerous cases, records that should include family names, addresses, or relinquishment agreements were either incomplete or falsified. These practices not only prevent adoptees from reclaiming their histories but also perpetuate their disconnection from their heritage. Ashmita’s initial requests for information from her adoption agency were met with delays and incomplete responses. When she turned to the orphanage where she spent her early years, she encountered even greater resistance. At one point, the director of the orphanage issued veiled threats. Nevertheless, Ashmita persisted and managed to find the name of the individual who had brought her to the orphanage. However, the person had disappeared, leaving yet another gap in her story. A breakthrough came when Ashmita accessed a police report that suggested she might have been born in a different municipality than the one in her adoption records, prompting her to seek help from local authorities. The police took an interest in her case and began investigating possible connections to her birth family. While progress was slow, they meticulously followed leads to help her trace her origins. “It’s not easy,” Ashmita said of the process. “But every small step feels like I’m piecing something back together.” She also noted that societal perceptions could add to the difficulty. At times, she felt questioned about her identity and her right to seek answers. “People have asked me why I care so much or even suggested that I’m not Nepali anymore because I was adopted abroad,” she reflected. Ashmita’s story is a complex account of persistence in the face of institutional and personal challenges. While her search has not yet provided all the answers she seeks, it continues to offer her insights into her early life and the systems that shaped her adoption journey. &nbsp;“These records are sealed for a reason. They are not meant to be reopened,” said a government official. Even an NGO representative said: “It’s better for everyone if the past remains in the past.” An orphanage director asked: “Why are you asking these questions? This is not your place anymore.” Hari Prasad Sacré The Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) card is a lifeline for Nepali diaspora members, granting them residency and property rights in Nepal. Yet, adoptees are notably excluded from this framework. While the law stipulates eligibility for individuals whose parents or grandparents were Nepali citizens, it makes no provision for adoptees whose legal ties to their Nepali parents were severed by adoption. When Hari Prasad Sacré, a Nepali adoptee, sought to obtain an NRN card at the Nepal Embassy in Belgium, he encountered officials unfamiliar with processing an NRN request from an adoptee. His case was the first of its kind, setting a precedent but also highlighting the systemic barriers adoptees face. "You are not eligible; your surname is Sacré, it is not a Nepali name," an embassy staff said.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5" data-rendition-name="original" width="446" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>Hari Prasad Sacré receives tika from his father Khul Prasad Adhikari during Dasain, a few weeks after receiving his NRN card. Photo: HARI PRASAD SACRÉ</figcaption> </figure>  Sacré’s situation was legally ambiguous. Although his biological parents, including his father, Khul Prasad Adhikari, are alive and he maintains contact with them, he no longer had “legal” ties to Nepal due to the adoption process. Carrying a Belgian surname the embassy staff was initially convinced the adoptee couldn’t claim Nepali origin. Nepali law, which does not recognise biological parents as legal guardians once a child is adopted, created complications for the NRN application. To navigate this complexity, Sacré relied on a testimony from his father. Issued by a local government body in Kaski, the testimony affirmed that Hari had been put up for adoption and was of Nepali origin. While this enabled the embassy to approve his NRN card, the process was unnecessarily protracted and emotionally charged, highlighting the inadequacy of current policies to accommodate the unique situations of adoptees. Sacré’s case represents a rare instance where biological parents were alive and willing to provide testimony, but many adoptees are not as fortunate. A large number of adoptees were declared “orphans” during the adoption process, even when their parents were alive. This severed their legal ties to Nepal, stripping them of documentation that could later prove their origin. For others, the absence of living biological relatives or access to their original adoption records creates insurmountable barriers. Without clear documentation or a family member to vouch for their Nepali heritage, adoptees are excluded from the NRN framework. This denies them the rights and privileges afforded by the card, including property rights, legal recognition, and a formal connection to their homeland. Current laws fail to account for the complexities of adoptees’ legal status, leaving them disconnected from their cultural and legal heritage. Adoption papers, as evidence of Nepali descent, should be accepted as proof, granting adoptees rightful access to the NRN card and ensuring their inclusion in Nepal’s diaspora. Such reforms are crucial to ensure that all adoptees, regardless of their circumstances, can reclaim their heritage and establish a sense of belonging in Nepali society. Without these changes, the systemic exclusion of adoptees will persist, perpetuating inequities and denying them the opportunity to step up as active members of the Nepali diaspora. Sacré’s case serves as both a precedent and a call to action. It exemplifies the challenges and triumphs of adoptees navigating complex bureaucracies and advocates for a more inclusive and equitable approach to reconnecting adoptees with their homeland. Nepal can draw inspiration from South Korea, where the government has actively supported the reintegration of adoptees into their society. The F4 visa, established through efforts by organisations like the Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link (GOA'L), grants adoptees the right to live and work in Korea, while dual citizenship acknowledges their dual identity as members of the diaspora and their country of origin. GOA’L further fosters reconnection by offering language classes and cultural exchange programs, creating opportunities for meaningful reintegration and belonging. As Nepal refines its NRN citizenship framework, explicitly including adoptees could address the severance of legal and cultural ties caused by international adoption. Such inclusion would provide adoptees a pathway to residency, citizenship, and rights, enabling them to reconnect with their heritage. Complementing this with programs for language acquisition, cultural immersion, and historical education would honour Nepal’s responsibility to the approximately 5,000 children sent abroad. Nepal could establish a dedicated organisation similar to South Korea’s GOA’L and help adoptees access pre-adoption records, navigate legal processes, and engage in cultural exchange initiatives. It would also serve as a bridge between adoptees and Nepali society, fostering mutual understanding and collaboration. This article is based on doctoral studies by <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01H4Z85GPS63ZWDJ3WB2E6KS70">Hari Prasad Sacré</a> and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/10357823.2022.2142932">Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez</a>. Hari Prasad Sacré, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at Ghent University in Belgium, specialising in cultural translation, multilingualism, and identity in education. His PhD, Reading Illiteracy, explored fractured multilingualism and illiteracy in displaced identities such as adoptees, with work published in leading journals like Critical Arts and the European Journal for Cultural Studies. Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at the AFIN Research Group, Autonomous University of Barcelona, with a PhD in Social Anthropology. Her research focuses on family strategies, reproductive decisions, and adoption, with extensive fieldwork in Spain and Nepal examining adoptee reunions and related governance and rights.

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