From stone spouts to cast-iron mains, Nepal’s water system and its struggle to provide safe water tells a larger story of power, disease, dependency — and lessons for the future. From 1823 to 1891, the Nepali state made just two notable interventions in Kathmandu’s drinking water system. The first was when Prime Minister Bhimsen Thapa commissioned a stone pout (hiti) to tap groundwater within the valley’s traditional supply system. The second came nearly 70 years later with Nepal’s first industrial-era water system, the Bir Water Works in 1891 under Prime Minister Bir Shumsher Rana. Linking these two milestones was the spectre of cholera. From the 19th century on there were seven global cholera pandemics. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0264410X19309995#bb0325" target="_blank">Originating in Asia</a>, the disease reached Europe and the Americas, the Vibrio cholera bacillus breeding in poor sanitation wherever it found it. The first wave erupted in 1817, followed by others in 1829, 1852, 1863, 1881, 1889 and, finally, in 1961, the seventh pandemic which still lingers on. London, the epicentre of the Industrial Revolution, was repeatedly stricken. In Britain ‘miasma’ foul air was blamed. &nbsp;In Nepal, cholera was seen as divine damnation. By the late 19th century, as Nepal’s relationship with Britain deepened, the Bir Water Works was inaugurated in 1891 as a defence against cholera. Whether cholera also shaped Bhimsen Thapa’s decision in 1823 is less clear. Contemporary records note the commissioning of Sundhara, but do not refer to the cholera epidemic raging at the time. The silence itself is telling: Nepal’s elites were ruling in the shadow of the disease. Bhimsen Thapa first resided in Thapathali Palace, which was built in 1802 by Nain Singh Thapa, father of Mathabarsingh Thapa, who would briefly become prime minister in the 1840s. In 1806, Bhimsen Thapa moved to Bagh Durbar, a new complex on the western edge of Tundikhel. Historians are vague about the water supply in the residences of the nobility, but wells and water hauled from rivers, ponds, canals, and other sources were likely the primary sources. A small hiti north of Bagh Durbar, near today’s Sun Dhara, may have supplied the palace. In 1823, Bhimsen Thapa had it enlarged, making it the last and largest state-built hiti in Kathmandu. Even as Bhimsen Thapa was involved in palace intrigues and border conflicts, Britain was engineering pipelines. By the late 18th century, Sir Thomas Simpson had invented the bell-and-spigot joint, making long-distance pipes viable. Fluid dynamics, dealing with pumps, pipes, and filters, was becoming a foundational discipline. In Kathmandu, the scourge continued. Cholera struck Kathmandu repeatedly, in 1862, 1867, 1872, 1874 and 1875. The 1872 epidemic, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera" target="_blank">according to historian Tom Robertson</a>, claimed between 200 and 250 lives a day. On average, cholera killed between 1,200 and 1,500 people annually in Kathmandu Valley, an enormous toll for its small population. The summer of 1885 was especially calamitous: a cholera epidemic ravaged Kathmandu and its periphery from the beginning of June until late August. The disease even breached the royal palace, reportedly killing 23 people, mostly young girls. Records show that 909 people received treatment at the British Residency dispensary, and estimates suggest that as many as 10,000 people perished in a city of 50,000. In November that year, Bir Shumsher seized power in a coup. He inherited not only a premiership but a Valley ridden with disease. Cholera was endemic, and it was accompanied by typhoid, smallpox, goitre, syphilis, and chronic dyspepsia. The The British Residency dispensary at Lainchaur was inadequate. “In a poor country like ours, wealth means health,” Bir Shumsher remarked, an unusually pragmatic admission that epidemics were not divine punishment but structural afflictions of urban life. He soon pledged to expand health care. In 1889, he opened Bir Hospital and staffed it with Indian doctors to treat cholera, typhoid, smallpox, and other prevalent illnesses. PIPED WATER Bir Shumsher also recognised the need for safe drinking water. Between 1866 and 1872, he had served as Nepal’s ambassador in Calcutta, and he must have seen water mains already in operation there, and a filtration plant inaugurated in 1870. Madras had installed such a system as early as 1800, Bombay constructed the Vihar and Tulsi reservoirs in the mid-19th century. In Kathmandu British Residency personalities such as George Gimlette must have urged Bir’s government to quicken the construction of the hospital and water system, yet the archival traces of such exchanges still await historical scrutiny. By the late 19th century, the British had developed a technological ecosystem for water supply, intakes, pipes, fittings, reservoirs, and trained engineers. Bir Shumsher appealed to the British Government in India for engineering assistance. A British engineer named Mr Feigneur surveyed Kathmandu to prepare maps, and estimated the volume of water that could be brought from the Rudramati River. In 1889, a more experienced engineer, Lockhart Matthew Sinclair arrived. He was a Scotsman educated at Wellington College and the Royal Indian Engineering College, with prior experience in constructing waterworks in Jubbulpore and the Viceregal Palace in Shimla. Appointed State Engineer of Nepal (1889–1892), Sinclair reviewed Feigneur’s plans, updated them, and chose the Bishnumati River as the source of the city’s drinking water. Sinclair’s design included a reservoir at Panipokhari, at 1,330m elevation and 30m above &nbsp;Tundikhel, thereby enabling gravity-fed distribution in pipes. With a capacity of 7,327 cubic metres, the reservoir could store nine days of supply.&nbsp; The system was designed to serve about 70,000 residents through both private connections and public standpipes. The reservoir was a single-compartment tank with an arched brick roof covered in earth and turf. Its brick walls were bonded with lime mortar and aggregate, and its floor was dressed with fly stone. Work on the valley’s water supply began in 1888, three years after Bir Shumsher seized power. The following year, Bir Hospital and the Bir Water Works took shape. The project involved some 40km of imported cast-iron pipes, weighing 1.866 million kg and inscribed with the marks of Scottish foundries ‘Ally and McLean’ and ‘Glasgow’. Construction required 620,000 man-days of labour and cost over Rs600,000. Transport costs inflated prices: <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">a load of cement</a> costing Rs10 in Calcutta was worth Rs33 by the time it reached Kathmandu. Bir Water Works was inaugurated in September 1891, six years after the cholera epidemic. Water flowed out of 131 taps, including eight in Lainchaur, six in the royal palace, eleven in the prime minister’s palace, sixteen around Tundikhel, thirteen in Thapathali, seven in Thamel, and two in Naxal. The system’s designation, the term ‘works’ , echoes the Chelsea, Calcutta, and Glasgow Water Works, underlining its industrial pedigree. Water was also supplied to Phora Durbar, Bir Shumsher’s palace of music and dance whose fountains sprayed rose-scented water in a display of opulence. The <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-" target="_blank">Bir Dhara Works</a> was more than an engineering scheme: it was Nepal’s first modern public-health intervention. Safer drinking water curbed waterborne disease, and the number of cholera outbreaks declined, but were not eliminated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254" data-rendition-name="original" width="865" height="535" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971" data-rendition-name="original" width="2791" height="3859" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>  “Now we have water to fight cholera, and I believe cholera will no longer prevail. After four years of piped water, the benefits have been greater than expected,” Bir Shumsher said in a proclamation. Despite this, the prevalence of poor sanitation, open defecation, cramped housing, and malnutrition meant that typhoid, smallpox, and dyspepsia remained endemic. The Bir Dhara system marked Kathmandu’s transition from reliance on wells, rivers, springs, and hiti to piped water, operating for several decades and laying the foundation for the expansion of drinking water services across the country in the late twentieth century. <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">Extensions followed in Patan</a> under Chandra Shumsher, and Bhim Shumsher later added the Tri Bhim Dhara. Piped water systems were subsequently constructed in towns such as Kirtipur, Bhaktapur, Dhankuta, Pokhara, Dhulikhel, and Jajarkot which itself saw a deadly cholera outbreak in 2009.&nbsp; CHOLERA METAPHOR In 1933, Nepal’s first water bureaucracy, the Pani Goswara, was established, formalising state involvement in urban water supply. Yet even till the late 20th century, households continue to rely on a mix of sources, including public water networks, private vendors, rooftop storage tanks, borewells, wells, hiti, and household filtration. The lack of reliable water supply places disproportionate financial, physical, and psychological burdens on low-income households, underscoring how decades of infrastructure expansion have not translated into universal, reliable service. during challenges in governance, investment priorities, and regulation. Bir Shumsher also attempted to introduce <a href="https://www.ukaalo.com/news/cholera-in-kathmandu-1958/" target="_blank">basic hygiene measures</a>, such as pit latrines with squatting slabs. However, there is no record of these facilities being built in his palaces, later built palaces, or elsewhere. Sanitation conditions remained poor for both the elite and the general population. Open defecation or the use of crude pit latrines without proper waste disposal was common. With no drainage or sewer systems, human waste accumulated near homes, contributing to the spread of waterborne diseases. In 2019, Nepal declared itself ‘open defecation free’, a policy milestone, but this achievement masks the persistence of deeper problems. Urban areas generate some 867 million litres of wastewater daily, yet only 7% of it is treated before being discharged. Sewage flows untreated into rivers and streams, spreading cholera, typhoid, dysentery, and other diseases, particularly among children and vulnerable communities. Safe disposal of faecal sludge continues to be a major struggle for many communities and local governments. Besides Jajarkot, Godavari in Kathmandu Valley had a localised outbreak in 2024. This year, Birganj was struck by a cholera outbreak caused by a lethal combination of unreliable water supply, groundwater overpumping, poor drainage and hygiene, and unsafe waste disposal. And Nepal’s peacekeepers deployed after the earthquake in Haiti in 2010 were blamed for spreading cholera that ultimately killed 30,000 people in the Caribbean nation. The Bir Water Works was more than a reservoir and pipes. It was Nepal’s first brush with modernity, mediated through engineering and haunted by cholera. More than 134 years on, cholera remains a threat and a reminder of Nepal’s challenges in water and sanitation governance. The issue is not merely ensuring access to safe water but also building public trust that quality essential services can be delivered equitably, sustainably, and with resilience. Ajaya Dixit is a Kathmandu-based researcher exploring Nepal’s water history since the mid-eighteenth century to inform ethical water and river management in a changing climate.

Life in a time of cholera

Bottom

The cabinet approved $185M in foreign loans for the Digital Nepal Transformation project, which aims to modernise government services. Of this, $50 million comes from the World Bank and $40 million from the ADB to modernise digital government services. An additional $95 million from the World Bank is for SDG and inclusion projects. There has been criticism in MPs about Nepal’s increasing debt burden.

Nepal approves loan

Nepali migrant workers sent home Rs1.45 trillion in the first eight months of the fiscal year—a 37.7% increase compared to the same period last year. February–March alone saw Rs188.64 billion. During the period, 273,536 workers received new labour permits and 251,985 received re-permits.

Rs1.45 trillion

The government introduced Saturday–Sunday weekends for all offices and schools to reduce fuel consumption after petrol prices rose by 30% to cross Rs200/l due to the US-Israel war on Iran. Office hours have been extended to 9am–5pm to compensate. Bus fares may increase by 19% after diesel prices have risen by Rs40/l over the past month. Transport operators are pushing for immediate implementation.

2-day weekend

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 rape and murder of Inisha BK in Surkhet earlier this month has become yet another case of the abuse and violence that women and girls continue to face — and pay for with their lives.&nbsp;
In Kalikot, police arrested a man in his 50s after he was found to have repeatedly sexually assaulted his 13-year-old relative. In Kathmandu's Maitighar, a seven-year-old has been demanding justice for her mother, who was raped and murdered in Khotang eight months ago.&nbsp;
These crimes have once again cast a harsh ­­­­spotlight on how Nepal’s state apparatus has repeatedly failed victims and survivors of sexual violence. This has fostered a sense of impunity that encourages more abuse.
Four teenage boys, one of them reportedly in a romantic relationship with Inisha, have been arrested for her brutal assault and murder. In the days since, Nepalis across the country have come together, as they have before after the same sort of crimes, to demand justice and accountability not just for Inisha but for countless other women and girls who are made to suffer.&nbsp;
Nepal Police records show an average of 2,400 cases of rape over the last five fiscal years, with 2,253 complaints filed in the past year. There are as many as 7 rape cases registered every day, while more are never reported to the police. Yet, even as there are resounding calls for accountability now for Inisha, there is the sense that law enforcement and the judicial system is not to be trusted to ensure safety and justice for women.&nbsp;
The 2018 rape and murder of 18-year-old Nirmala Panta has not been solved due to police mishandling of the investigation. That crime is etched on the national psyche. Thousands of survivors of wartime rape during the insurgency remain unaddressed by the state. Law enforcement shows apathy and loathing towards trans people, particularly sex workers, when they try to register complaints of sexual harassment and assault. Police are routinely reluctant to record complaints of marital rape.&nbsp;
And even if cases of sexual violence are registered, the state allows perpetrators to get away with fumbled investigations, a lack of sufficient evidence or statutes of limitation.&nbsp;
Adult men get away with grooming and assaulting minor survivors because both parties ‘have consented’ to being in a relationship. Survivors and families are often made to sign a मिलापत्र by police so they do not have to investigate and prosecute.&nbsp;
After this month’s election, there is hope that a fresh new elected leadership will govern the country better than their predecessors. There are strong demands that the government hold the rapists of Inisha, Nirmala and many other women and girls accountable for their crimes.
Whenever yet another case of sexual assault makes it to national headlines, there is an outcry to punish the perpetrators when (and if) they are found, and only after they have committed the crime. But what of our own homes, communities, society and culture where patriarchy is entrenched, and misogyny rampant?
Following Inisha’s rape and murder, the usual questions were already there on the social media manosphere: why would she go into the forest with a boy? Why did she have a boyfriend at 16? Online, some began their think-pieces with ‘I don’t mean to blame the victim … but young girls must be careful who they give themselves to.’&nbsp;
Almost every woman will have experienced sexual harassment, misconduct or violence one way or another — in casual conversations at work, walking on the streets, on public transport, interacting with people they know, just going about their daily lives.&nbsp;
And the onus of sexual abuse and violence always lies on those who are subjected to it: on how they dress, how they behave, how they exist. Meanwhile, perpetrators are excused and protected by their celebrity status, their wealth, connection, age, by their families and communities.
Meanwhile, young boys and men across the globe are increasingly radicalised on the internet, driven to violent and sexist behaviour as they are algorithmically led to believe that feminism and the calls for equality tramples on their rights.
Misogyny permeates everyday interactions, every time we dismiss the &nbsp;aggression of young men as ‘boys being boys’, every time men are taught to associate romantic relationships with aggressively pursuant behaviour, every instance that dated and sexist wedding rituals are taken in jest, every time women are silenced into sweeping domestic violence, abuse, and sexual assault under the rug.
Nepal’s laws must ensure that perpetrators of sexual violence are granted no leniency, regardless of age, background, or circumstance. But it must also be made abundantly clear to young boys and men at home, schools, and in the community that bad behaviour, however small, has consequences.
Shristi Karki

No nation for women

The dawn air in Muktikot is dewy as the sun sets over the horizon in the mountains of western Nepal. A sad farewell song drifts across the village from a mud plastered house.&nbsp; Rani BK sings a half melody, half lament: “I feel like my own hands are being cut off as you leave.” She is bidding farewell to her youngest brother, 37-year-old Ranne, his wife Akashe. They are going to Bangalore in India to find work. Neighbours gather quietly in the gathering light, some wiping their eyes, others joining in song. “Please, don’t cry,” Ranne says softly. “These tears will haunt us on the journey.” Migration is not new to Muktikot, but the tears are. For decades, nearly every household here has sent its men to India every winter to work. They return in spring to plant their crops.&nbsp; What is new is that women like Akashe BK are now also going, and for longer periods. The couple is leaving their two of their children behind, and will be away for at least five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130224_f8d2d5980da1f3c1e22944003969d64cffd10f280c523ab207f983ef42b4cb9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260203130224_f8d2d5980da1f3c1e22944003969d64cffd10f280c523ab207f983ef42b4cb9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Daughter and son left behind with Rani BK after departure.</figcaption> </figure>  Ranne has been a daily wage labourer since he was 17, moving across Nepal and different parts of northern India. This journey is different — it will be to southern India.&nbsp; He had borrowed Rs50,000 from a local lender to cover the travel cost, hoping to recoup it from his earnings as a security guard. Aakashe plans to work as a household helper.&nbsp; “We would not go if we have a choice,” Aakase says quietly, her eyes fixed on “We are forced to leave our children. We cannot afford to educate them, there is little to eat here, no water, no work, no electricity.” Their daughter Sitala, 12, and son Dipson, 10, put auspicious red tika on their parents’ foreheads. Aakase sobs as she asks relatives to look after their children and their house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130224_a6316df8ff8a7f95d963396f2a01a7549dca3dcc1ac0364763eecd9f29b7bed7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260203130224_a6316df8ff8a7f95d963396f2a01a7549dca3dcc1ac0364763eecd9f29b7bed7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Departure of Ranne BK.</figcaption> </figure>  “We may return by the time you finish school,” Ranne tells Sitala, who is in Grade 6. Sitala stands forlorn by herself, not saying anything. Across Muktikot, women who once stayed back to raise children and manage households now join their husbands in India to support families in these remote mountains of western Nepal.&nbsp; Unnati BK, 30, and her husband Barune BK decided to migrate to India after their home was damaged by landslides in 2021 and the family was nearly killed. The arid farms did not produce enough food as rains failed. “Nothing grows here,” says Unnati, who is also leaving for Bangalore with her husband, along with Ranne and Akashe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_50db0f2d1827584bc9aa6d19d7d79b385ea1211192ccfc1f1147b245c941912e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260203130228_50db0f2d1827584bc9aa6d19d7d79b385ea1211192ccfc1f1147b245c941912e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Unnati BK</figcaption> </figure>  After 54 families lost their homes in landslides four years ago, the district administration has set aside Rs500,000 for families including Unnati and Barune. But although nearly complete, they have received only Rs175,000 each. Unnati had realised and told her husband that if they stayed in the village, their sorrows would multiply. So they planned to leave, hoping that a little extra hardship in India would allow them to pay for the education of their three children, who are 11, eight, and six years old. “We chose Bangalore because relatives told us it is easy to find jobs there for both men and women,” Barune says. They plan to leave their children with Unnati’s parents for now, and later send them 250km away to Kailali to attend school.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_3ee37136e936fe7dba7d1320452c83a17f08805663a7cbb4b6efa986c79147ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260203130228_3ee37136e936fe7dba7d1320452c83a17f08805663a7cbb4b6efa986c79147ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Landslide four years ago caused 54 families to lose their homes.</figcaption> </figure>  More than 75 couples from 350 households in Muktikot have left for cities like Mumbai and Bangalore in the past three years alone, leaving behind their children either with their in-laws or in the Tarai cities where they go to school. Ajay Kumar BK, chair of the rural municipality of Muktikot says, “There is a clear intention to leave the village altogether.” &nbsp; Diksha BK, 25, has three sons aged six, three, and one. Her husband Dhirjan works in Surkhet. She and her husband have given up on Muktikot, saying they see no future there. DISASTER-PRONE Muktikot is populated mostly by Dalit families, and used to be named Dumkot after a derogatory term used by higher caste people for Dalits. During the Maoist conflict, many Dalit boys joined the guerrillas and the rebels renamed it Muktikot, meaning ‘freedom’.&nbsp; The village clings to a steep mountain flank wrinkled with rain-fed farm terraces. Many of the men who have left for India have never come back, and now even the women are leaving. The 2020 Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan of Bajura identifies Muktikot as a disaster-prone area, making its rain-fed agriculture vulnerable to droughts. The denuded slopes above are at risk of landslides.&nbsp; The 2021 International Migration in Nepal report counted 13,482 people migrating to India from Bajura alone that year. There are an estimated 3.5 million Nepalis living and working in Nepal — mostly from the western mountains.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_df4f333c7a5bc0b0a7fd75ae6c2e9f02444a097fc5b13c24dc61a276ea6ac3ff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260203130228_df4f333c7a5bc0b0a7fd75ae6c2e9f02444a097fc5b13c24dc61a276ea6ac3ff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Houses being built under resettlement plan.</figcaption> </figure>  National Environment and Equity Development Society (NEEDS) Nepal found that 70% of households in Sudhurpaschim Province have had at least one member migrating to India at some point in their lives. “Female migration used to be low, but there is now an observable trend of women migrating for work from Sudhurpaschim,” says Prakash Madai of NEEDS Nepal. However, anthropologist Jeevan R Sharma says female migration is not new, what is different is the scale and duration of women migrants. Increasing demand for part-time household help in India makes it a pull-factor for Nepali women from the rural west to enter the informal workforce. “Women used to go only when opportunities arose, working for half a year to maximum two years, and frequently going back and forth,” says Sharma. “The potential rise is likely due to the need for greater income driven by rising cash-based expenses for health, education, food, and purchase of consumer goods.” COST OF LEAVING “Previously people struggled for basic needs, and we did not have the money or the roads to travel to Kathmandu, which is why most people went to India for manual work,” says Kartik Kami, 60, of the rural municipality. “Migration trends have changed because both men and women can make money washing, cooking, and cleaning in cities. Soon, there will be no one to conduct weddings or funerals, only children will remain.” While women from other parts of Nepal began participating in foreign employment three decades ago, women from traditional Sudurpaschim families are only now venturing into the Indian labour market. “This surge is filling a labour vacuum in India created when its domestic migrants shifted their focus to Gulf countries,” explains historian Yadab Devkota. Yet, research paints a social cost. A 2020 study found that children of migrant parents suffer loneliness and neglect due to the absence of parental care and love. Children fall back in studies, and girl children are burdened with excessive workload managing the household and siblings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130232_e1e02cd082e7cbb77243103b2197fd1dfca75531bb9d6f518763afccb9ed452c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260203130232_e1e02cd082e7cbb77243103b2197fd1dfca75531bb9d6f518763afccb9ed452c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Sitala BK, daughter of Ranne and Aakashe.</figcaption> </figure>  The emotional toll is manifested in anxiety, stress, depression, and in some cases, suicide, especially for those whose mothers have migrated.&nbsp; “The significant shift towards couple migration is driven by families making difficult and high-cost decisions in the hopes of breaking the cycle of poverty,” says Arjun Kharel at the Centre for the Study of Labour and Mobility (CESLAM ). “Migration remains primarily a strategy for subsistence rather than development, it is a calculated family decision made in the absence of local opportunities.” Migration to India remains largely invisible to the Nepal government. The country’s foreign employment framework does not extend to migrants going to India. And because they travel through the open border, they are not regulated by formal systems.&nbsp; There is no accurate count of how many Nepalis are working in India, or of Indians in Nepal. According to the Indian Population and Housing Census, there are 600,000 Nepalis working in India, but this is a gross underestimation.&nbsp; A study by Aapti Institute describes Nepali migrants in India as ‘liminal’ neither fully protected as citizens nor recognised as foreigners there, exposing them to exploitation and risk.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130232_14a613729f6ebb1db0bec63032cc78abe3087341680b2f88bc0ab4456621b012.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260203130232_14a613729f6ebb1db0bec63032cc78abe3087341680b2f88bc0ab4456621b012" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Ranne and Aakashe's last night at home.</figcaption> </figure>  “Nepali migrants in India are not covered by compensation if they fall sick and or if die, unlike migrants to other overseas destinations who can receive compensation of up to Rs700,000,” notes labour migration expert Saru Joshi. The recent draft National Labour Migration Policy 2025 of the Ministry of Labour, Employment, and Social Security offers a flicker of hope for migrants to India with provisions for welfare, social security, and mental health support for families left behind. The draft also mandates better data collection of the movement of people.&nbsp; It is unlikely that these initiatives will make any difference to the people who remain in Muktikot. Many like Ranne and Akashe are likely to go to India for work. “If I had only two or three children, I would take my wife to India too,” says Jaya BK, 46. But he has seven children, including newborn twins, whom he has stayed behind to help his wife look after this time, rather than leaving for Uttarakhand in winter like he usually does.&nbsp; With the support of Internews' Earth Journalism Network.

Mass migration from Muktikot

There is one particular wall in Thimi that catches the attention of every passerby. Many stop to look, even those in cars slow down to catch a glimpse of the 2 stories high mural. It is titled झी (pictured below), the Newa word for ‘We’ and it is by artist Pooja Duwal, 27, who admits she had always been afraid of heights before she got on ladders to do these wall paintings. “I was doing paubha painting and thought I should learn a new skill,” says Duwal, who took a training in mural art, and there is no stopping since.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031907034_23a290f14ac22f9cfb9c315876cd93841abbe95c046bb2929c1b27995605bb45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031907034_23a290f14ac22f9cfb9c315876cd93841abbe95c046bb2929c1b27995605bb45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Women mural artists NT 1"> <figcaption>झी by Pooja Duwal. All photos: ANITA BHETWAL</figcaption> </figure>  Murals are different from other art forms -- the canvas is not on an easel but on brick walls or ceilings and have become the preferred medium for social messaging about feminism, democracy or press freedom after Nepal’s GenZ movement. At Kathmandu University’s fine arts department, most of her colleagues chose canvas or sculpture. But Duwal found the the scale of mural paintings irresistible despite the challenges. The main message in her murals is women’s empowerment and झी, for example, depicts the collective identity and solidarity of women in Bhaktapur. Women are shown worshipping at a temple, while others are busy sewing, weaving or farming – showing the diverse roles played by women. &nbsp; “Women would gather around while I worked and ask why I was painting on walls,” she says. “But then they would start telling their own stories. They were proud that they could participate and contribute to my art.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090340_b7fe1ba8e59e1004a026ac939a70cb9988125d896911a30d3a62d8483268aa35.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260319090340_b7fe1ba8e59e1004a026ac939a70cb9988125d896911a30d3a62d8483268aa35" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="women mural artists"> <figcaption>Pooja Duwal</figcaption> </figure>  Mural is not an easy art form, Duwal had to overcome her acrophobia climbing rickety ladders on a high wall with her paint can and brush.&nbsp; Over in the nearby town of Sankhu, the mural artists are playing an important role in connecting their ethnic, religious and cultural heritage to people who have forgotten tradition and ancient folklores.&nbsp; Subidha Lama, 20, painted a mural at the Sankhu bus park of women weaving sweaters. This resonates powerfully with Radhika Prajapati who knits sweaters herself and feels her work is being valued and recognized. “It is a great pleasure for us women see our work displayed on the walls, it makes me feel that what I do is important for society,” a beaming Prajapati told us.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031907034_af2ab7e8110b98fc5b078b27081864345d2f4f5ea222fce1ac6289281070d8ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026031907034_af2ab7e8110b98fc5b078b27081864345d2f4f5ea222fce1ac6289281070d8ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Women mural artists NT 1"> <figcaption>Subidha Lama</figcaption> </figure>  Lama recalls that the first time she climbed a ladder to start her mural, local were puzzled. “Our society still believes that such things are done by foreigners,” she says. “And they are especially surprised that women are painting.” &nbsp; Lama has now gathered some experience, including in the Philippines, where she was commissioned by local communities to paint murals.&nbsp; “If you can invest and commit yourself to it, it can earn you aliving,” says Lama, who is continuously working to inspire and empower women towards this art form. Murals are nothing new in Nepal. Refugee monks fleeing persecution in the Pala Empire in the 11th century brought the traditional Buddhist artform to Kathmandu. The technique peaked during the Malla period, considered the ‘golden age’ of Nepali art.&nbsp; But compared to woodcarving, sculpture, and traditional architecture, the contribution of mural art in preserving local history and tradition has been overlooked. Murals are not just creative outlet, but documentation of our past and present, and how we want our future to be. In the town of Khokana in Lalitpur, Saru Prajapati also started out as a paubha painter, but found the grand scale of wall painting more stimulating. She consults local women to decide on the content of the mural and tells the stories of the everyday lives of local women.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031907034_64cbd675d6f9a89e5ba2b54c8351e3d41e099a81f02c6c0c02d8116978f2b77c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031907034_64cbd675d6f9a89e5ba2b54c8351e3d41e099a81f02c6c0c02d8116978f2b77c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Women mural artists NT 1"> <figcaption>Saru Prajapati</figcaption> </figure>  People used to poke fun at her while she worked high up on a ladder, but now they are impressed with her work. Prajapati is now encouraging a new generation of women artists to join the field.&nbsp; Samudraman Singh, an artist with experience in both paubha and mural art, says the expansion of art education in universities means more women are taking up mural art, but adds: “Many more women would have joined, but they have family commitments.”&nbsp; Pooja Pant, director of VOW Media that is conducting mural training, says female artists are reclaiming of the physical space in their neighbourhoods. That it is an exercise, making narrative space one’s own, and becoming a means of resistance and transformation through art. “These murals are not just pictures on the wall, they are centres of power,” adds Pant. “They bring women’s history and future to public view. And the streets and walls become a platform for collective empowerment, and helps to inspire other women.”

Painting walls to bring down walls

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

Karnali Aquatic Reserve

The pale green ice on the top of the lake gleams in the pale January sunlight. The dark waters beneath are visible through the translucent frozen surface. This is Thulagi Glacial Lake at the foot of Mt Manaslu in central Nepal, classified as one of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up">most dangerous lakes </a>to appear in the Himalaya due to climate heating.&nbsp; The place is breathtaking not just because of its 4,050m altitude, but the scenery all around. The beauty belies the threat this expanding lake poses downstream along the Marsyangdi Valley. &nbsp; The lake lies at the terminus of the 4.5km long Thulagi Glacier. The local Gurung inhabitants call it Dona Tal. They say it started appearing in the 1960s. Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung, 47, has been ferrying trekkers to the spot for about 20 years.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>MELTING MOUNTAINS: Thulagi Glacial Lake in Manang has been identified among 47 lakes in Nepal at risk of an outburst flood because of climate breakdown. All photos: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Yaks graze below Thulagi Himal (7,059m) and Mt Manaslu (8,163m) along the Dona Khola that drains the lake.</figcaption> </figure>  “Dona used to be small, but it has now grown bigger,” he says, gesturing to how the glacier has receded and shrunk. Trekkers used to be able to go to the other side, but now the glacier is riddled with ponds and boulders falling off the moraine that make it dangerous.&nbsp; Gurung adds rather matter-of-factly: “The lake will burst sooner or later.”&nbsp; Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) has been studying Thulagi for the past two decades. Topographic maps from the 1960s and early satellite images show the lake being much smaller.&nbsp; When the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-resource-curse">Marsyangdi Hydropower Project</a> project was being built in 1994, the German Institute of Geology and Natural Resources with the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology measured the lake to be already 2km in length. More recent surveys show the lake has increased its size since then to more than 1 sq km. &nbsp; The lake is among 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya">dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal and Tibet </a>&nbsp;identified by ICIMOD in 2020 due to its size, the risk of landslides and avalanches, and the gradual collapse of the lake’s ice-core moraine dam.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung has been taking trekkers up to Thulagi Lake for 20 years.</figcaption> </figure>  In 2018 a team of glaciologists led by Umesh K Haritasya <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2072-4292/10/5/798">published a journal article</a> about the evolution of three glacial lakes including Thulagi, Lower Barun, and Imja. Even back in 1976, Thulagi was twice the size of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Diverting-danger,3172">Imja glacial lake</a> in the Khumbu and six times the size of the Lower Barun. The team measured the lake’s depth at 79m, and calculated that it held 36.1 million m3 of water. Since then, Thulagi has been growing at a slower rate than the other two lakes because it is shielded by shadows of mountains. There is also not as much glacial calving in the narrow valley.&nbsp; Nonetheless, scientists and experts have long warned that a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from Thulagi poses a big risk to four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and settlements like Besisahar and Dumre (map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504" data-rendition-name="original" width="2076" height="1444" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi map"> </figure>  The lake feeds into Dona Khola, a tributary of the Marsyangdi where the 49.9MW Dona Khola hydropower project is being built at a cost of Rs10 billion. Another 42MW Super Dona Khola project is planned on the river. “One of the trigger points that could lead to a glacial lake outburst could be the steep lateral moraine, which might be weakened by rapidly melting permafrost,” says Scott Watson, a University of Leeds researcher who was part of the team that conducted the 2018 study. Locals are already witnessing what Watson describes. They say that it was easy to reach Thulagi’s headwaters even until a few years ago, but that is now dangerous because of ice and rockfalls.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1426" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>The 50MW Upper Marsyangdi Hydropower Project station in Lamjung. A Thulagi Lake outburst would damage four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and its tributaries.</figcaption> </figure>  GLOF WARNING&nbsp; Glaciologist Rijan Bhakta Kayastha has been studying Thulagi since 1994, and was part of a team that discovered that the lake’s terminal moraine was made up of rocky soil on top and ice at its core.&nbsp; In 2020, Kayastha's team published a study that modelled the route of a possible GLOF. They found that if the lake burst, it would take 2.5 hours to reach Dharapani, and 4 hours to reach Bahundanda 39km downstream. The surge would be 13.7m high at Dharapani and 15m by the time it reached Taal, the village most at risk because it is situated only a few metres above the Marsyangdi. ‘Considering the size of the Thulagi glacial lake and its dam, it seems unlikely that a rock fall or avalanche would cause the lake to breach the moraine dam,” concluded the study. “But an earthquake or climate change would require a separate study. At present, there is no immediate or imminent threat of this glacier bursting.” MEMORIES OF 2021 Across Manang valley, residents are haunted by the memories of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come">2021 flood on the Marsyangdi</a> that swept away parts of Chame, Dharapani, Naso, and Taal villages.&nbsp; Kamarkali Gurung, grew up on the banks of the Marsyangdi in Dharapani, and had never imagined that the tranquil river she knew could become such a monster. She had saved up to build her own three-story property with 17 rooms.&nbsp; Her family was away that June evening when the flood swept away her hotel. “Not even a spoon remained, everything was gone,” says Kamarkali. “Losing the hotel hurt like losing a loved one. The Marsyangdi flows through my house now, I can never go back.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>SURVIVORS: Kamarkali Gurung's hotel was swept away by the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi. She now operates her hotel from a rented house in Dharapani.</figcaption> </figure>  Surendra Gurung, also a hotelier, was in Dharapani the night of the flood, and can still remember the fear as the river roared towards the village. “I did not know if I would live or die,” he says.&nbsp; Sirantal village was merely 10m above the Marsyangdi, and was completely destroyed by the flood. Thirty-two people were rescued by army helicopters, and most of the families have now relocated to Taal.&nbsp; One of them is Singha Bahadur Gurung who also ran a lodge for 20 years. “We did not have to buy anything except rice, the soil in Sirantal was so fertile,” he remembers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Singha Bahadur Gurung operated a lodge in Sirantal before the flood swept it away in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  Marsyangdi now flows through where Singha Gurung’s village used to be. “Ever since the flood, I am terrified every time it rains from June to August,” he says.&nbsp; The 2021 flood was during the monsoon, and was caused by unusually heavy rainfall in the catchment. A GLOF on the Marsyangdi would be much more destructive. Roshni Ghale, 46, runs a hotel in Taal, and escaped with her family to a nearby cave as the flood engulfed nearby homes.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Roshni Ghale spent six months after the 2021 flood rebuilding her hotel in Taal. Tourism has steadily picked up in the four years since the flood. </figcaption> </figure>  “We spent the next six months after the flood rebuilding our lives, going to bed hungry many a night,” she recalls. In the four years since, tourism has picked up again, but the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-unseen-wounds-of-climate-disasters"> community is still traumatised</a>. In the wake of the floods, the government had begun talks to rehabilitate and repatriate the community, but until now, they have been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/from-one-disaster-to-the-next">empty promises</a>. In any case, the people here, most of them experienced hoteliers whose livelihood depends on tourism, are unwilling to uproot their lives and start over elsewhere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Most of the survivors of the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi from villages like Sirantal have relocated to the upstream village of Taal, which itself was hit by a monsoon flood in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  DISASTER PREPAREDNESS Even though studies have assessed the risk of GLOFs in Manang and across Nepal, and warned about the damage that such floods could cause, it took until 2021 for early warning systems to be installed on the banks of the Marsyangdi and in the town of Taal.&nbsp; But beyond that, there has been little preparedness. Early warning systems and disaster preparedness are necessary not just along the Marsyangdi but also at and around Thulagi itself, say experts. Locals here are becoming increasingly aware of the risk posed by the expanding lake up the valley, but are reluctant to leave homes and communities that they have lived in for generations. The hydropower projects on the Dona Khola promises jobs, and the local government is upgrading the hiking trail to Thulagi Lake which has become a tourist attraction. “Manang now gets <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/too-little-snow-too-much-rain">too little snow and too much rain</a>, and the Marsyangdi charts its own course,” says Min Rashi Gurung, chair of Ward-1 of Naso rural municipality, where Thulagi is located. &nbsp; But help may be on the way.Last year, the Green Climate Fund (GCF) approved a $36.1 million grant to help Nepal reduce risk of GLOFs in Thulagi and four other glacial lakes. The project is managed by the government and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The project is set to begin next fiscal year, and will reduce the water level in the four glacial lakes including Thulagi, similar to what was done in Imja and Tso Rolpa, says Dinkar Kayastha at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. &nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism - Nepal

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

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

How much ice must melt before we act?

Frontpage topic

In a classic arc of political sociology, a revolutionary figure takes several decades to complete their cycle: mobilisation, institutionalisation, and finally governance. 
However, the timeline of this trajectory has been telescoped in the case of Home Minister Sudan Gurung, who in 2025 described himself as a social activist and volunteer, has gone from the barricades of the GenZ protests to the mahogany desk of the Ministry of Home Affairs.
Gurung is a personal pick of Prime Minister Balendra Shah, and played a pivotal role in getting him to join the RSP by mediating with Rabi Lamichhane. His journey serves as a real test bed for the ‘Outsider-to-Insider Transition’, raising a fundamental question about someone who now leads the very apparatus that he once fought against: the police, intelligence service, and the bureaucracy.
Social capital can indeed be built during a crisis exacerbated by state failure, and that is where we first see Sudan Gurung — expediting relief delayed by systemic corruption and red tape. Gurung’s delivery aid through a social-media-driven volunteer network bypassed the government. 
Whether or not he really rushed a dying child to hospital after the 2015 earthquake does not matter, it has become an urban legend. 
His work evolved into the non-profit Hami Nepal in 2020, serving as a ‘parallel state’ mechanism that would later become central to his public identity. Later, his group sprang into action during the Covid crisis, organising oxygen cylinders and beds . He was there after flood disasters in Manang and Sidhupalchok, and even organised Rs15m worth of aid to Turkey after the 2023 earthquake. 
Moral Legitimacy became his primary source of power, and he strategically positioned himself as an alternative emergency response system. But the real rupture happened on 8 September 2025 when years of frustration, corruption scandals, lack of transparency and state accountability culminated in a rally that the next day descended into anarchy. 
There was no single leader. The movement was fully decentralised, but as elsewhere such upheavals produces a recognisable face. Among them was Sudan Gurung. Who despite being a millennial himself, became the most visible interlocutor of the GenZ movement. 
He negotiated with the state’s key actors, including the president and the Chief of Army staff, during the period of uncertainty When the country was on the brink. This led to the dissolution of parliament and the formation of the interim government under Sushila Karki, paving the way for the election on 5 March.
Since then, Sudan Gurung’s role has become contradictory. Within days of touching Prime Minister Karki’s feet after her swearing in, he was at the gates of Baluwatar spearheading midnight demonstrations calling for her resignation. He accused her and Home Minister Om Prakash Aryal of not consulting the youth over Cabinet appointments and not arresting the previous government officials.
This oscillation became a hallmark of Gurung’s own version of the ‘Radical Flank Effect’ — erratic behaviour to force the establishment to make concessions. 
On 18 January Gurung formally joined the RSP, and started campaigning from his home constituency of Gorkha-1. He won decisively and was appointed home minister by Balendra Shah. The transition was complete. 
As minister his role spans core security areas: overseeing internal security through the Nepal Police, Armed Police Force and the intelligence bureau. The man who took part in anti-government rallies is now in charge of the riot police that aresupposed control anti-government protests.
His portfolio also handles state administration matters such as citizenship, immigration, and border security, coordinates with the judicial system on prisons, detention, and policies related to punishment and clemency. For example will be overseeing the fraud case against his own party’s chair, Lamichhane.
In his book Power in Movement, political scientist Sidney Tarrow observes that social movement leaders encounter ‘institutional capture’ upon entering government. In a sociological paradox, the man who previously denounced the police for killing youth protesters is now the person who issues directives to those same forces.
Preventive detention, surveillance, and the control of public festivals are the same instruments that the former old guard employed to stifle his movement. The activist who demanded transparency at the B P Koirala Institute now manages the state’s most secretive security apparatus.
In this arc, Gurung is not alone, there are parallels around the world for leaders emerging from the ashes of revolt. It is not so much a prediction, but for Gurung the challenge is even more acute because youth expectations are so high.
The bar for performance has been raised by citizens demanding change and quicker, more efficient service delivery. He is under constant public scrutiny, which is why he has to take YouTubers every time he goes on inspections of the airport, the BP Highway, police stations, picking trash on the sidewalks or meeting the Swiss ambassador to ask about repatriating the ill-gotten wealth of politicians.
Sudan Gurung is facing intense public glare. There have been calls to reveal the truth behind Hami Nepal’s finances, the alleged links to Free Tibet, and lately not paying five years of rent for an illegal lakefront property in Pokhara. 
As minister, he will find that moral legitimacy alone is no longer sufficient, it must be reinforced by transparent and consistent institutional accountability. Sudan Gurung’s ascent is evidence that the public mostly trusts ‘outsiders’ during times of crisis. However, history also cautions us that the state only permits ‘insiders’ to operate. 
Gurung will have to organise systemic reform to inject the transparency of his volunteer days to the Home Ministry’s traditionally secretive disbursements. If he fails, he runs the risk of validating Michels’ Iron Law of Oligarchy, which would serve as a warning about how revolutionary energy is dissipated by the very structures it was intended to overthrow.
Nepal is watching the man who said he once held a dying child in his arms after an earthquake. The volunteer has become the Warden.
Nischal Raj Gautam is a student of Media Studies and Mass Communication at St. Xavier's College, Maitighar. He is a member of the EU Delegation's Youth Sounding Board (YSB), and a journalist for TheirWorld's The Education Issue 2026.

He said no to politics. Now he runs it.

The Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) that swept Nepal’s post-GenZ election last month has taken office at a fraught period in global geopolitics. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-myth-of-red-lines">war in West Asia </a>could potentially reshape the world order with far-reaching<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fuel-price-shock-hits-nepal-aviation"> strategic and economic consequences for Nepal</a> and the region.&nbsp;
The foreign policy of any state is largely dependent on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-spheres-of-influence-illusion">extant structural features of the international system</a>, and Nepal and its remittance-driven economy faces a challenging geo-strategic environment.&nbsp;
The position of the United States in international affairs is still largely unrivalled, and provides a rather large window into the country. But the impact of greater Chinese power in Nepal is not yet properly understood, while India has always been and will continue to exert regional hegemonic influence.&nbsp;
With 5% of the global population contributing to 20% of the world economy, and flexing 50% of military might, the United States looms large just about everywhere in the world, including Nepal. Its rivalry with an emergent China puts Nepal in strategic proximity.&nbsp;
Whether it is the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mcc-gets-green-light-in-nepal">Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) project </a>or the State Partnership Program (SPP), if President Donald Trump and the State and Defense Departments want it done in Nepal, they will get it done. The more germane question is whether this is beneficial to long term regional peace and stability. That is a consideration Washington will surely have to take into account moving forward.
How all this corresponds, or not, to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-india-power-play">Indian policy towards Kathmandu </a>is the real question that will affect Nepal, given the strained relations between Washington and New Delhi lately.&nbsp;
There should be no confusion that as far as New Delhi is concerned, Nepal is part and parcel of India’s grand security structure. It has always been so, going all the way back to the British period under Viceroy George Curzon, and perhaps even earlier.&nbsp;
The Chinese assessment of Nepal is defined by Beijing’s interest to ensure the stability and security of the Tibet Autonomous Region. Any great power wishes to expand its influence beyond its borders and China, after all, now considers itself a global power. It has the engineering and financial capability to project its interest on a neighbouring country like Nepal whose economy is 400 times smaller.&nbsp;
However, expansion of Chinese influence in Nepal becomes a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/a-past-foretold">matter of historical significance</a> only because it comes up against what India regards as its sphere of influence. New Delhi’s power especially vis-a-vis neighbouring South Asian states is grossly underestimated. India is emerging as the next great power in Asia, and at the current juncture of history, China is unlikely to become an alternative to India in Nepal.&nbsp;
COUNTERWEIGHT
This is also improbable and impractical because of the current power distribution in the international system. The United States is an off-shore power balancer, and is unlikely to countenance projection of Chinese influence into Nepal beyond certain limits.
India is not just a fellow democracy, but also serves as a counterweight to US fears of Chinese dominance of Eurasia. Washington can be expected to exert ever possible influence to ensure that China is not a decisive power in Nepal.
It may be the case that Beijing does not wish to enlist itself in such a position either such a manoeuvre in the Himalayan frontiers of the Subcontinent could draw the United States still more deeply into the Nepal’s political tapestry.
The result would be a more combustible Nepal with too many friction points to manage, and lead to a veritable headache deleterious to regional peace and stability.
How the new government in Nepal maintains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rsp-dos-and-don-ts">domestic peace and stability</a> will be closely watched in the region. It is a question contingent on a wait-and-see approach, as there are too many variables at play which cannot at present be set into watertight prognostications.
Nepal’s domestic politics therefore is governed by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/some-chicken-some-neck"> international developments</a>. The first quarter of the 21st century is already characterised by the interplay of interdependent variables.
As the geopolitical thinker Robert Kaplan describes it, conditions are taut like in a musical instrument where too much pressure at one point on the string can disrupt the entire system in ways that are unpredictable.
How that will play out in Nepal will be a function of the intersection of civilian and military leadership within Nepal, and the tripolar contestation of China, India and the United States in the region.
Bhaskar Koirala is an independent analyst associated with Peking University.&nbsp;

Tripolar contestation over Nepal

The war in West Asia has exposed the fragility of the economic architecture Nepal has built on over two generations. If the conflict continues, growth across developing Asia will slow and prices will rise. For Nepal, this will be felt through higher living costs, weaker economic activity, and growing uncertainty for the millions of families who depend on remittances.&nbsp; Nepal now needs to structurally transform from exporting labour to investing in domestic job creation. &nbsp; The country's current path toward a knowledge economy has a blind spot. A <a href="https://iids.org.np/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/unleashing.pdf" target="_blank">report</a> by the Institute for Integrated Development Studies (IIDS) in Kathmandu shows that IT export companies alone generated 7,228 jobs and income for 66,509 freelancers.&nbsp; We are building digital labour export, not an economy that accumulates institutional knowledge. The Nepali Upwork developer and a migrant construction worker in the Gulf are engaged in the same economic activity, but with different tools. Nepal’s reliance on a <a href="https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/BX.TRF.PWKR.DT.GD.ZS?locations=NP" target="_blank">remittance-driven economy,</a> means the country has failed to create enough <a href="https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/nepal/publication/unlocking-nepal-s-growth-potential" target="_blank">quality jobs</a> at home. For millions of young people, leaving the country is not a choice but a necessity to survive and support families back home. <a href="https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/nepal/publication/unlocking-nepal-s-growth-potential" target="_blank">Remittances</a> have no doubt helped reduce poverty. Thirty years ago, 55% of Nepal’s population lived on less than $2.15 a day, now it is 20% after the absolute poverty line was revised upwards. This progress has come at a cost — &nbsp;an economy that depends more on exporting workers than creating opportunities at home. This development reflects a deeper political failure to create meaningful jobs within the country. Since the democratic transition in 1991, Nepal’s leadership has largely recycled the same faces, with limited progress on job creation or industrial growth.&nbsp; Nepal cannot build a <a href="https://nipore.org/accelerating-nepals-startups/" target="_blank">knowledge economy</a> while its most ambitious people are outbound to Doha and Tokyo. We are also not just losing ‘labour’. We are losing the entrepreneurial risk tolerance of our youth.&nbsp; If the most ambitious 25-year-olds are abroad, who is left to support innovation and entrepreneurship? The same people who are working tirelessly abroad, are our biggest asset for development. Their work ethic and the know-how inurban renewal could well fit into the new RSP government’s mandate of 7% annual growth.&nbsp; The <a href="https://english.biznessnews.com/posts/-nepal%E2%80%99s-it-exports-cross-1-billion-" target="_blank">$1B milestone</a> of IT exports is a celebratory moment for Nepal. However, that cannot lead to a pathway to a $100 billion economy without innovation ecosystems that go beyond individual labour export. Companies like SecurityPal and industry associations such as NASIT have made significant efforts in building such an environment, recently championed by private sector leaders as a &nbsp;<a href="https://www.securitypalhq.com/blog/silicon-peaks" target="_blank">Silicon Peaks</a> model that emphasises a home growth tech cluster. The need to accelerate this transition is even more urgent with the escalating conflict in West Asia. &nbsp;The recent International Labour Organisation (ILO) <a href="https://www.ilo.org/sites/default/files/2026-03/Nepal%20LDC%20Graduation%20Employment%20Impacts%20Report.pdf" target="_blank">report</a> shows that LDC graduation is expected to adversely impact manufacturing with losses of $1 billion by 2030.&nbsp; If manufacturing takes such a large hit from losing trade preferences, then Nepal’s services and IT sectors need to structurally transform and shift from exporting individual talent to building firms. &nbsp; A generation’s frustration has finally forced a shift in Nepal’s political structure, handing the new government a clear mandate to fix failures. But the question still persists: what prevents Nepal from achieving sustained, productivity-driven growth? &nbsp;&nbsp; RSP is in the right place at the right time to put Nepal's economy on a firm footing. At the heart of Nepal’s economic underperformance lies a major development binding constraint: low returns to investment on projects.&nbsp; The government invests like a high-growth economy, with gross capital formation at around <a href="https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/NE.GDI.FTOT.ZS?locations=NP" target="_blank">25–30 percent of GDP</a>. Yet economic growth remains modest. The problem is not how much the country invests, but how little it gets in return. One way to see this is by looking at how much investment is required to generate growth.&nbsp; Nepal needs large amounts of capital to produce relatively small gains in output (graph, below). For instance, in 2024, the ICOR was 8.29, this suggests that Nepal had to invest more than 8 units of capital to produce a one unit of additional economic output.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260406040412_605dc527641d2ff2dc5723ed8bbec946898331d5538a55b9941e32a0725bf811.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260406040412_605dc527641d2ff2dc5723ed8bbec946898331d5538a55b9941e32a0725bf811" data-rendition-name="original" width="1827" height="925" loading="lazy" alt="Economy graph"> <figcaption>Source: Author's calculation based on a Growth Diagnostic simulation</figcaption> </figure>  This reflects a deeper issue in how investment is allocated and executed. Capital is often locked in low-productivity sectors or diluted by delays, inefficiencies, and policy uncertainty.&nbsp; As a result, even high levels of investment fail to translate into sustained growth. Until investment shifts toward productive, firm-building activities, higher spending alone will not deliver results. &nbsp; To reverse this, the government must focus on raising the returns to investment by enabling firms to grow and compete. This requires a shift from managing scarcity to creating an environment where capital can generate consistent and predictable returns. A central priority should be given to attracting and retaining both domestic and foreign private investment. Investors do not just respond to direct incentives, but also to policy stability in the country. Nepal’s economy cannot sustain high growth if its human capital continues to leave the country.&nbsp; The goal should not simply be to create jobs, but to build companies that scale, innovate, and compete beyond Nepal. This requires supporting sectors with strong productivity potential and ensuring that firms can expand without being constrained by infrastructure gaps or regulatory friction. Finally, the state must improve the quality of its own investment. Public spending should focus on lowering the cost of doing business through reliable electricity, efficient logistics, and digital infrastructure.&nbsp; The GenZ movement took two days to bring change. The economic transformation of Nepal might take a generation. The RSP can accelerate this transition, but only if it focuses on building a better investment climate for business and not just feeding the global labour pool. Kailash Raj Pandey is an MPA/ID and MBA candidate at Harvard Kennedy School and MIT Sloan School of Management and a fellow at MIT Kuo Sharper Center for Innovation and Prosperity.&nbsp; Siddhartha Raymajhí is a policy researcher based in Kathmandu.

Creating a firm future for Nepal

There is a term from psychology that has been quietly making its way into conversations among academics, policy thinkers, and ordinary citizens trying to make sense of what they are watching unfold: moral injury.&nbsp;
It is not the fear of being harmed. It is the damage done when human beings are forced to witness, or feel implicated in, events that violate their deepest convictions about right and wrong, about the rules by which civilisation is supposed to operate. It is what happens when everything you were taught to believe the world was built upon begins to dissolve in front of you in real time.
That dissolution is now a daily experience for millions of people. It arrives through screens, through speakers, directly into homes and offices and classrooms. The language of this moment is not the language of diplomacy or statecraft. It is the language of annihilation: eviscerate, decimate, stone age, eliminate, go fetch. These are not negotiating positions; they are performances.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fuel-price-shock-hits-nepal-aviation">Fuel price shock hits Nepal aviation</a>, Nepali Times
Red lines, we were told, meant something. They were the architecture of deterrence, the invisible grammar of international order. For decades, this language organised how states behaved toward one another, how the public understood the limits of acceptable conduct, how generations of students were taught to think about power and its constraints.&nbsp;
Those students are now watching, in stunned disbelief, as line after line is crossed with impunity, and the consequences amount to more performance, more language, more noise. The red lines were always partly mythological — now they are undeniable.
DEMONSTRATION OF DOMINANCE
Power as performance changes everything about how conflicts unfold and how they end. When a war becomes primarily about the demonstration of dominance rather than the achievement of defined strategic objectives, there is no natural off-ramp.&nbsp;
Those who did not start this conflict and are most damaged by it may have to bear the unbearable reality that it must, to some degree, play itself out before any durable arrangement becomes possible. A forced resolution with no structural legitimacy would merely constitute an intermission.
Meanwhile, the real costs accumulate on a ledger that bravado consistently obscures: loss of life and livelihood, destroyed infrastructure and ecosystems, the hollowing out of a human rights architecture built over a century, and massive flows of displaced people.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/when-geopolitics-becomes-lived-reality">When geopolitics becomes lived reality</a>, Sophia Kalantzakos
Beneath all of this is the quiet structural transformation of the global economy, where thousands of layoffs already demonstrate not a cyclical correction but a permanent reorganisation of how work, capital, and technology relate to one another.&nbsp;
Markets gyrate, offering opportunities for speculation that a small number of people can exploit while a much larger number absorb the losses. This is not volatility. It is displacement dressed up as opportunity.
Much is sacrificed in the process. Humanity is living through the greatest technological revolution of the 21st century: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/ai-takeover-of-all-media">artificial intelligence</a>, the energy transition, the restructuring of entire industrial systems, the preparation of workforces for a world that will look transformed sooner than we think. These challenges demand serious investment, serious governance, and serious political imagination.&nbsp;
The funds to prepare are instead being diverted to defence industries for conflicts driven by the logic of 19th- and 20th-century warfare. Bad things are happening, but importantly, our capacity to respond is being actively depleted while no one is looking.
This week, as these wars grind on and these words of annihilation fill the air, the largest initial public offering in history was confidentially filed, according to media reports. SpaceX, valued at potentially $1.75 trillion, prepares to raise more capital than any company has ever raised in a single public offering, with stated ambitions that include data centres in orbit and a base on the Moon.&nbsp;
The previous record belonged to Saudi Aramco, a company built on the fossil fuel economy whose contradictions we are still living inside.&nbsp;
The new record belongs to a company whose founding logic is that Earth is a problem to be escaped from rather than a home to be cherished. We cannot afford to be distracted from what is important by the deafening noise of performance power.
What does it actually mean to be powerful in the 21st century, not rhetorically, but structurally and durably. The states and leaders that will matter in the coming decades are those that invest in their populations, that govern the technological transition with foresight, that understand energy and resources and climate not as inconveniences but as the central organising facts of this era.&nbsp;
It is not a coincidence that so many global leaders are currently showing restraint, and in some cases quiet dignity, refusing to be drawn into the theatre of escalation.&nbsp;
They are calculating differently, working through back channels and careful diplomacy because they understand that any durable solution will have to be built on solid foundations. Coercion, arm-twisting, the transactional humiliation of allies and adversaries alike are not the tools of durable power. These are the tools used to dismantle rather than reform, to torch rather than adapt.
No doubt there were deep flaws in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/might-might-be-right-after-all">unraveling international order</a>. It was uneven in its benefits, slow to reflect the rise of new powers, and ill-equipped for the challenges of this century. But it offered something that is now being actively upended: a degree of predictability, a framework of rules that created the conditions for negotiation and coexistence.&nbsp;
The better answer was never demolition. It was transformation, a harder and slower work that required exactly the kind of serious political imagination that performance power cannot supply.&nbsp;
The people absorbing moral injury today are not naive. They are paying attention. And the question that will define the coming decades is not whether the old order survives; it’s already too late for that. The question is what those who understand the stakes are willing to build in its place.
Sophia Kalantzakos is a Professor of Environmental Studies and Public Policy at New York University Abu Dhabi. She is the author of China and Geopolitics of Rare Earths and The EU, US, and China Tackling Climate Change: Policies and Alliances for the Anthropocene. This piece originally appeared in <a href="http://ekathimerini.com/" target="_blank">ekathimerini.com</a>. Reprinted with permission.

The myth of red lines

A year ago, the most pro-crypto president in US history had just returned to power after pandering to clueless retail crypto investors and receiving massive financial backing from semi-corrupt crypto insiders.&nbsp;
Donald Trump’s second coming was supposed to be a new dawn for crypto, leading various self-dealing evangelists to predict that bitcoin would become ‘digital gold’, reaching at least $200,000 by the end of 2025.
As promised, Trump did gut most crypto regulations. He also signed the Guiding and Establishing National Innovation for US Stable Coins (GENIUS) Act, pushed for the Digital Asset Market Clarity (CLARITY) Act, profited personally from shady domestic and foreign crypto deals, promoted his own useless meme coin, pardoned crypto crooks who had allegedly aided terrorist organisations, and hosted private dinners for crypto insiders at the White House.
Moreover, crypto was supposed to benefit from various macro and geopolitical risks, such as the ballooning of US and other advanced economies’ debt and deficits, the debasement of the dollar and other fiat currencies; new trade wars, and growing tensions between the US and Iran, China and many others. Indeed, the heightened risk environment helps to explain why gold rose by over 60% in 2025.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/time-for-nepal-to-enter-web3">Time for Nepal to enter Web3</a>, Vishad Raj Onta
But ‘digital gold’ fell by 6% in 2025. Bitcoin is down 35% from its October peak last month, and the $TRUMP and $MELANIA meme coins are down 95%.&nbsp;
Every time gold has spiked in response to trade or geopolitical ructions over the past year, bitcoin has fallen sharply. Far from being a hedge, it is a way to leverage risk, showing a strong correlation with other risky assets like speculative stocks.
Calling bitcoin or any other crypto vehicle a ‘currency’ has always been bogus. It is neither a unit of account, a scalable means of payment, nor a stable store of value. Even though El Salvador made bitcoin legal tender, it accounts for less than 5% of transactions for goods and services. Crypto is not even an asset, as it has no income stream, function, industrial or real-world use (unlike gold and silver).
Some 17 years after bitcoin’s launch, the one and only ‘killer app’ in crypto is the stablecoin: a digital version of old-fashioned fiat money, which the financial and banking industry already digitalised decades ago.&nbsp;
Yes, whether digital money and financial services should be on a blockchain or a traditional double-ledger platform remains a question. But 95% of blockchain monies and digital services are ‘blockchain’ in name only.&nbsp;
They are private rather than public, centralised rather than decentralised, permissioned rather than permissionless and validated by a small group of trusted authenticators (as in traditional digital finance and banking) rather than by decentralised agents in jurisdictions with no rule of law.
NO ANONYMITY
True decentralised finance will never reach scale. No serious government — not even the Trump administration — will ever allow full anonymity of monetary and financial transactions, because that would be a boon for criminals, terrorists, rogue states, non-state actors, human traffickers, assorted crooks and tax dodgers.
Moreover, because digital wallets and regulated exchanges must be subjected to standard anti-money laundering and know-your-customer (AML/KYC) rules, it is not even clear that transaction costs through permissioned and private ‘blockchains’ are any lower — especially now that traditional financial ledgers have improved with real-time settlement and faster clearing tools.&nbsp;
The future of money and payments will feature gradual evolution, not the revolution that crypto-grifters promised. Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies’ latest plunge further underscores the highly volatile nature of this pseudo-asset class.
As for the GENIUS Act, having set the stage for another destructive experiment in free banking, like the one that ended in tears during the 19th century, it may well be remembered as the Reckless Idiot Act.&nbsp;
Under the law, stablecoins are not regulated as narrow banks (meaning deposits and payments are separated from riskier lending and investing), nor do they have access to the lender-of-last-resort or deposit-insurance benefits provided by central banks.
Thus, all it would take to incite a panic and trigger a bank run is for a few bad apples in pseudo-libertarian US states to mis-invest their holdings or place their deposits in weak institutions like Silicon Valley Bank.&nbsp;
As in the 19th century, the current US approach — thanks to Trump’s venality, cluelessness and to the crypto industry’s corrupt influence peddling — is a recipe for financial and economic instability.
The recent fight between real banks and the crypto industry over the CLARITY Act is another example of Trump not understanding monetary and financial basics. The issue is not about banks wanting to keep their near-monopoly on monetary transactions. In a fractional reserve banking system, banks are involved in both payments and credit creation via the maturity transformation of short-term deposits into longer-term loans and credit. That means they provide a very valuable semipublic good.
Obviously, short-term deposits do not pay interest because they are nearly equivalent to currency. Yet the crypto industry is pushing to allow interest payments for stablecoins — directly or indirectly via exchanges — which would undermine the foundations of the banking system that we all take for granted.&nbsp;
We must either radically change our financial system to separate payments from credit creation (via narrow banks for payments and new loanable funds from financial institutions for credit) or prohibit stablecoins from paying interest and disintermediating banks.
This is a political and financial stability issue and few are as serious or as sensitive. Jamie Dimon, Chairman and CEO of JPMorgan Chase, is rightly raising the alarm about the changes the crypto industry wants, and Brian Armstrong of Coinbase could not be more wrong in nonchalantly dismissing such concerns.&nbsp;
If Trump has any advisers one hopes they can teach him how the banking system works before he allows his own personal interests to destroy its foundations. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent should be listening. &nbsp;© Project Syndicate
Nouriel Roubini is professor emeritus at the Stern School of Business, New York University. Also known as ‘Dr Doom’, he predicted the global financial crisis that began with the 2008 U.S. subprime mortgage meltdown&nbsp;

The coming crypto apocalypse

Rivers have been the lifelines of civilisations with their dynamic ecosystems providing vital services for human survival and ecological balance through the ages.&nbsp; But accelerating anthropocentric footprints are causing severe, and often irreversible, damage to river systems across the world, including those across High Asia, a region that sustains nearly a fourth of the global population downstream. An example is the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-the-bagmati-civilisation-is-becoming-uncivilised" target="_blank">Bagmati River</a> that courses through Kathmandu, crosses the Himalayan foothills to join the Ganga in India. A river that once shaped the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/when-it-comes-to-water-pollution,3196" target="_blank">Kathmandu Valley Civilisation </a>is now a polluted and biologically dead water body constricted by urban sprawl, choked by construction debris, chemical waste and untreated sewage.&nbsp; The loss of a sacred river is tragic enough, but its hazards related to health, life and livelihoods are not limited to the Valley, nor is its enormity fully gauged by the metrics of fatality, income loss, flood return periods, runoffs, embankment failure.&nbsp; It is a systemic collapse of ecological integrity, socio-economic stability and cultural heritage, affecting its downstream users as well. The death of Bagmati is a peril for a population size way bigger than circa 5 million residents of Kathmandu Valley. The degradation started in the 1980s and has accelerated. Why has not enough been done to save this iconic river that runs through Nepal’s capital?&nbsp; The Bagmati River Basin Improvement Project (BRBIP) was designed to make headway in restoring the river with a sewage treatment plant, dams for storing water to support dry-season runoff, recharge groundwater, creation of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/resurrecting-bagmati-the-river" target="_blank">green biodiversity corridors</a> along the river bank to also serve as recreation areas, reduce the urban heat island effect, and also provide cultural continuity. The project also envisages collection of hydrological data for managing Bagmati multipurposewater systems and providing flood forecasts and early warnings aimed at protecting lives and property, among other things. Most importantly, the project takes the integrated water resource management approach, which, in principle, is a holistic and collaborative way of managing all elements of the water cycle to ensure water security, public and environmental health and amenity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2126" height="1577" loading="lazy" alt="Bagmati NT"> </figure>  This should pave the way for managing a river as a connected ecological, social, and economic system by enabling coordination across agencies and disciplines, stimulating technological innovation and financial investment. The success of this approach depends on long-term political will and commitment that transcend political cycles, but also needs strong community and civil society in defining issues and proposing solutions, creating and sharing knowledge, taking independent action to inform practice, monitoring and evaluating policies, and participating in public decision-making. Civil society, especially, in making the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/encounter-with-bagmati-river" target="_blank">revival of the Bagmati River</a> a pressing governance issue. The Bagmati Action Plan 2009, a precursor to the BRBIP, was designed in response to lawsuits filed in 2000 and 2004 by an independent legal practitioner of Kathmandu against waste dumping in the river.&nbsp; It took him almost two decades of legal battle for Nepal’s Supreme Court to pass orders for mandatory septic tanks in all homes in Kathmandu Valley, relocation of squatters from Bagmati river banks to government-built houses, and embargo on dumping and burying garbage on the banks of the river and its tributaries. Despite court orders, however, actual results have been unsatisfactory. Restoration of Bagmati barely made it to any political debate or electoral manifesto this time. Treatment plants have not been operational for years, yet no one is held accountable. The population ignores waste segregation or single-use plastic rules to check littering.&nbsp; The current condition of the river therefore seems to have more to do with the lack of public awareness and behaviour change than the failure of various master plans. Why does the deep danger of a dead river fail to arouse widespread civil society concern, let alone action? The apathy is perhaps underlined by an innately anthropocentric understanding of the river as a mere resource to be exploited, rather than the backbone of existence.&nbsp; Such a paradigm shift is possible when river or river systems are understood to be necessary for &nbsp;a harmonious coexistence with human populations. The more pertinent question is not whether a dead river can be restored because there are many examples from around the world where that has been successfully achieved. It is whether we choose to restore our rivers for intergenerational equity. This would require a holistic perspective and political will to revive reverence for a river system so that its symbiotic relationship with human settlements can be restored. Roshni Gurung is Research Assistant, River Basins at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD).

A lifeline becomes liability

Nepali Times #1305

Once a quiet niche in Nepal’s art world, abstract works are gathering a certain following. Art aficionados and collectors have embraced the freedom this art form provides, making the canvas a compelling, unfiltered space for expression and raw energy. Nepal’s transition into modernism and abstract art began in the mid-1900s as the country opened to the world. The pioneer was Lain Singh Bangdel who was exposed to the modern European school while studying in Paris in the 1950s. It was Bangdel who infused abstract styles to modern Nepali art and inspired generations of new talent.&nbsp; Fast forward 65 years. For the first time, 26 abstract Nepali artists are coming together for an extravaganza at Taragaon Next titled ‘Forms of Abstraction’. The exhibition brings the works of Kiran Manandhar, Sangee Shrestha, Sushma Rajbhandari, Bidhata KC, NB Gurung, Jeevan Rajopadhyay, Laya Mainali, Nabendra Limbu, among others.&nbsp; The exhibition explores themes such as motion, emotion, nature, architecture, geometry and culture, but always melding culture and heritage into modern visual themes. “Unlike purely formalist approaches, abstraction often emerges from cultural memory, spiritual philosophy, and lived environments,” explains Roshan Mishra, curator and director at Taragaon Next. “Even in its most non-representational forms, Nepali abstraction retains a connection to tradition by transforming rather than abandoning earlier ways of seeing and making.” The exhibition is supported by the Saraf Foundation for Himalayan Traditions and Culture and also acknowledges the contribution of late artists who helped shape the abstract art scene in modern Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260408150412_7e9a11ca89bffbb071ea9873a599f51de49ef83ab51893002815f7ac8bef3c47.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260408150412_7e9a11ca89bffbb071ea9873a599f51de49ef83ab51893002815f7ac8bef3c47" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1024" loading="lazy" alt="Mainstreaming abstract art NT"> </figure>  The exhibition foregrounds abstraction not as a departure, but as a continuum, an evolving language shaped through time, practice, and context. The artworks presented include mixed media, acrylic on canvases and water colour on paper. Jeevan Rajopadhyay has been working with abstract art for 20 years, and his work is distinguished by the vibrant use of colour and fluid forms, often evoking a sense of movement and harmony for viewers.&nbsp; “Abstract art exists beyond what is seen by human eyes ti evoke feelings and emotions,” says Rajopadhyay.&nbsp; Nabendra Limbu’s Samaahit highlights years of deep exploration into abstraction, displaying an emotional interplay of colour and form. “I explore rhythm, repetition, and space, where colour and form engage in an emotional dialogue, unfolding contemplation, movement, and what exists beyond perception,” he explains.&nbsp; But because abstract art resonates at an emotional rather than rational level, the paintings cannot be explained in words. Artists use expressionism precisely because its message exists in a different dimension from language. Laya Mainali has been painting in the abstract for 40 years has two works titled ‘Antaskaran’ and ‘Creation’ on display, both of which come with distinct colour palettes and shapes. He says: “Abstract art is an expression, a mixture of colours and a medium through which feelings can be poured out.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260408150412_1852cac9fd9a2d392a11986dd68dbe88e13ccb4c80e618bbabde32f15796171f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260408150412_1852cac9fd9a2d392a11986dd68dbe88e13ccb4c80e618bbabde32f15796171f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1514" loading="lazy" alt="Mainstreaming abstract art NT"> </figure>  Kiran Manandhar’s ‘Mero Man Ka Kura’ appeals to the eye, as darker shades dominate the foreground fading away to lighter tones. Manandhar has made a name for himself as an artist of repute, and says abstract art is actually more real for him. “The communication through the combination of colours, textures and forms stimulate emotion and evoke memories and moods, and that what gives me the energy to return again and again to this art form,” he adds.&nbsp; Sushma Rajbhandari’s work also blends tradition and modernity while ‘Sacred Landscape’ by Binod Pradhan, ‘Snowy Granulation’ by NB Gurung and ‘Antardwandwa’ by Sangee Shrestha add heft to the exhibition. Forms of Abstraction can be viewed as individual works, or seen as a collective creativity in Nepali modern art. Every artwork on display spread across multiple galleries tells different stories, each speaking differently to different audiences.&nbsp; Roshan Mishra hopes the exhibition will make abstracts more accesisble: “There is minimal discussion around abstract art in Nepal. Paradoxically, the more people do not understand the paintings, the more successful the exhibition will be.” Forms of Abstraction Taragaon Next, Boudha 2 April - 24 May&nbsp; 10am-5:30pm

Mainstreaming abstract art

Emotions are an indispensable part of being human, but in the world of social media networks and the virtual world of augmented reality and AI, people are more connected digitally than they are in their real lives. This creates an emotional distance. The exhibition Antardrishti (Inner Vision) at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/" target="_blank">The Kalā Salon</a> &nbsp;at the Chhaya Centre in Thames attempts to bridge that widening gap. It encourages visitors to pause, reflect and better understand themselves and their identity. Artist <a href="https://www.instagram.com/sangeeshrestha/" target="_blank">Sangee Shrestha</a>, draws viewers into her own creative world of drawings and paintings on canvases with ample use of red, black, blue, white, grey and green. Each of them features an open or closed eye, signifying the real world and not the make believe one on an Android phone. &nbsp; “One eye is closed so as to push away negative thoughts and bad omens. The other eye is open and drawn wide so as to keep our vision wide and be vigilant,” explains Shrestha, an multiple award-winning artist who has been churning out powerful works since 1993.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040113044_2392a19f19d11d7abb90b1e880d1935c8c78e816a8636f6cf1ecf2e7409b7aa9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026040113044_2392a19f19d11d7abb90b1e880d1935c8c78e816a8636f6cf1ecf2e7409b7aa9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3546" height="2130" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  Geometric figures are an important aspect of her work, and Shrestha uses them to draw various parts of the human anatomy and adornments. Hand gestures hold special significance and meaning in art which has such a spiritual aura that even viewing them feels like an act of devotion. Shrestha refrains from giving a title or a name to her works, and explains: “I deliberately put up my works without a title so that viewers can interpret my creations in their own way,” she adds. Antardrishti is a labour of love that took two years. The show also includes ceramic masks, pots and Shrestha feels that working with clay is therapeutic not just for the artist but for viewers. Each figurine radiates positivity while also offering us a glimpse of the mind that guided the fingers that shaped these forms. Curator Sophia L Pande says as much: “For this exhibition, Sangee Shrestha set herself a challenge to create multiple sets of art that complement each other in theme and vision.” One of the highlights of the exhibition is a 100m long drawing of Egyptian gods and figures from mythical folklore that Shrestha made during one of her visits to Egypt. &nbsp;“What I found interesting is that the Egyptian gods and their stories are also similar to those of our own gods and goddesses,” says Shrestha.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040113044_ade8452161b3831e1eacf3f489c7d3ae9d5899a93958d0b24f77e1d726dd2168.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026040113044_ade8452161b3831e1eacf3f489c7d3ae9d5899a93958d0b24f77e1d726dd2168" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2866" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  The death of her mother three years ago changed the trajectory and content of her work, transforming the way she looked at the world and its transience. She was not confident about her own creative process anymore and started a journey to find her own identity and started pouring her thoughts into canvases While many of her works during this phase featured red, black and other dark colours, one was that of white butterflies flying out from a box, symbolising freedom and inner peace. And somehow they all force us to contemplate impermanence. The focal point of the exhibition is a series of devi goddesses as four separate artworks in a composite in grey, black and a dash of yellow. The use of dull colours signifies the clouds of thoughts, Shrestha says.&nbsp; The painting also includes three stages of a flower in a single branch: the bud, a half-open blossom and a flower with fully unfurled petals. “They depict different stages of human life -- childhood, youth and old age,” explains Shrestha. Also on exhibit are sculptures on metal pieces which reflect spirituality and religion. Climate change is another theme depicted in the melting of the Himalaya. Shrestha tells us: “I wanted my creations to be seen as more than just aesthetically pleasing. But to impart the message to make the best of what as we live our lives.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040113044_6e38db8d89ae52ea47be66560c1ef6900e00b1196afa2a50c440aa9b534959e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026040113044_6e38db8d89ae52ea47be66560c1ef6900e00b1196afa2a50c440aa9b534959e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3139" height="2324" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  Antardrishti by Sangee Shrestha <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/" target="_blank">The Kalā Salon</a>,&nbsp; Chhaya Center, Thamel Until 11 April 11 am-5pm

Artist explores her inner self

Along with the Sherpa community, it is perhaps Kathmandu Valley’s Newāh Civilization that has been the most studied by anthropologists, architects, historians and social scientists.&nbsp; Tomes have been written about the built environment of the Valley’s former kingdoms, the influence of Indian culture, and how it in turn inspired the temples, monasteries and monuments in Tibet, through China right up to Korea and Japan. Lately, there has also been an attempt to recognise and preserve not just the brick and mortar landscape of Kathmandu, but also the intangible heritage of the Newāh people. A critical component of the ancient festivals in the streets, alleys and baha of the inner cities are ritual plays and dance. Gérard Toffin is a social anthropologist with the Centre d’Etudes Himalayennes at the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) in France, and has been researching in the region since the early 1970s, focusing on Newāh society and especially its Jyapu farmers. Lately, his work has focused on indigenous theatrical performances, and how they are evolving with modern influences.&nbsp; RECORDING RITUALS The result of his study is this hefty ethnographic book, Newar Theatrical Performances: Religious, Royal and Comic Aspects, delving into sacred performances. This is the first-ever detailed documentation of the minutest aspects of traditional plays and holy ceremonies of Kathmandu Valley. This book is not for the package tourist on a quick walkabout of Patan, the details and terminology can be daunting even for natives to navigate. But this is what social science research is supposed to do – take a deep dive into cultures that we take for granted either because we are a part of it, or because we have never bothered to find out its meaning.&nbsp; Dance forms with mythological themes, masked processions, gestures, facial expressions of the performers, have all been passed down from one generation to the next, adhering to age-old codes. The world is moving at an accelerated pace because of TikTok-induced globalised connectivity, but traditional gender or caste dynamics and hierarchies are carried over intact in many of these performances. It is as if traditional theatre itself is a time capsule giving us a peep into the past. Some of the performances and dance are in danger of going extinct as the population ages and the young migrate out. However, there has been a cultural renaissance among the Newāh guthi overseeing these ritual plays, dances, or chariot processions. The next generation of apprentices are being trained. This pride in heritage means that Kathmandu Valley civilization is not as endangered as it may appear.&nbsp; Gérard Toffin’s book is an important ethnographic work that will help preserve the Nepal Valley’s unique blend of urban-rural, cosmopolitan-agricultural, Hindu-Buddhist, indigenous-national. The Tantric choreography of Newāh theatre, just as the kama sutra depictions on erotic temple art, show Indian influence, but Toffin says they have been ‘Newarized’.&nbsp; One example is the sexually-explicit shadow play staged every year since 1690 CE by Jhyalcha Guthi in Patan that exposes the infidelity of King Yog Narendra Malla. Toffin devotes a whole last section of his book to irreverent plays (khyalah) that ridiculed the rich and powerful, the royals and upper castes and their shenanigans.&nbsp; He examines the importance of comic relief at a time when death was ever-present in historic Kathmandu with its frequent epidemics. One cholera outbreak in 1885 is estimated to have killed 10,000 people – a fifth of Kathmandu’s population at the time.&nbsp; The Saparu festival in Kathmandu and Mataya in Patan memorialised through street processions those who had died the previous year – and this was institutionalised into Gai Jatra by King Pratap Malla in the 17th century to console his queen after their second son was killed by an elephant. Families were asked to file past the palace to show the queen that she was not the only one grieving.&nbsp; Pratap Malla also allowed clowns, burlesque plays, and satirists to make the queen laugh. The Rana and Shah regimes which suppressed free speech continued the Gai Jatra tradition to allow citizens to let off steam. Rulers were lampooned, and the performances involved scatological jokes, cross-dressing and lewd acts.&nbsp; Interestingly, the Nepal Bhasa word ‘pyakha’ means both ‘dance’ and ‘theatre’ (today also ‘cinema’, as Toffin notes) and so the performances were also a combination of ritual dance, traditional music and a stage play. Stories involve gods, goddesses and mythological characters, and are passed down through generations of performers. (See adjoining article on Pāhāñ Charey.) Street performances by masked dancers, like in the ‘Katti Pyakha’ in Patan, enact divine themes. The moving deities demand as much reverence as their static idols in the inner sanctum of temples. The book devotes a whole section to the importance of cultic masked dances where the performer is possessed by the spirit, and goes into a trembling trance.&nbsp; Some of this is now simplified and secularised into performances for tourists in hotels, but the genuine original masked dance troupes still parade down the streets, proving that ancient and modern are made to co-evolve in ways that only Kathmandu knows how.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329140352_aace3ece2e2cc577aa478d83de4b34930e6ff9c088d5f5e3f02fa178d124a60d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260329140352_aace3ece2e2cc577aa478d83de4b34930e6ff9c088d5f5e3f02fa178d124a60d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Newa theatre book details NT"> </figure>

All the world’s a stage in Kathmandu

Know your Ministers

Prime Minister Balendra Shah on Wednesday broke tradition and met with 17 foreign envoys collectively, a move that was a notable departure from how his predecessors operated.&nbsp;
Shah had already set himself apart by talking less, listening more, and delegating to trusted friends. But by meeting all ambassadors at one go in the presence of the Foreign Ministry, he signalled a paradigm shift in how he wants Nepal to be seen: no longer just balancing India and China, but as a country confident about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/tripolar-contestation-over-nepal">strategic importance and place in the world</a>.
In just two weeks, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rsp-dos-and-don-ts">RSP has sprung into action </a>on multiple fronts to implement its ambitious 100-point, 100-days action plan. It has taken short-term measures to mitigate the impact of the Gulf war, as well as medium- and long- term measures to streamline the bureaucracy. A few high-profile figures have been made examples of to drive the message home.
Earlier this week, the government recalled six politically appointed ambassadors, the most notable being long-serving Shankar Sharma from New Delhi. The Kathmandu District Court issued arrest warrants against former prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his former foreign minister wife Arzu Rana on charges of money laundering and corruption.
Each ministry has been trying to clean up the accumulated rot from the past three decades: regulatory overhaul of microfinance, education, health and service delivery.&nbsp;
These actions widely disseminated campaign-style on YouTube and TikTok have made most Nepalis hopeful that the party they installed in power means business.
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BACKLASH
But such attempts to overhaul a long-entrenched political culture were bound to face backlash. In their impatience and enthusiasm to get things done, some of Prime Minister Shah’s ministers have over-reached.
It was common knowledge that government-paid advertising in the mainstream press was kickback-driven, but the PMO’s directive that official notices be published or broadcast only on state-run media has been denounced — especially as the media industry struggles to stay afloat.
More serious are some recent appointments by ministers of relatives and figures closely associated with the RSP to key positions. This has rankled because this party built its political plank on ending nepotism and graft.&nbsp;
News that Home Minister Sudan Gurung allegedly had not paid rent on leased land, which illegally encroached on the lake in Pokhara did not help. &nbsp;
Prime Minister Shah himself has come under scrutiny for appointing a kitchen cabinet full of male buddies from his time as Kathmandu mayor. To douse criticism he brought in as adviser investigative journalist Deepa Dahal, who has exposed corruption in high places of the previous coalitions.&nbsp;
Shah’s appointment of another political adviser Asim Shah to the head Constitution Amendment Task Force, is also seen as problematic. He is a filmmaker and former lawmaker, but does not have a background in constitutional law.&nbsp;
Even more controversial is the Cabinet’s decision to appoint RSP Chair Rabi Lamichhane’s legal counsel, Narayan Kandel, as Attorney General. Kandel used to be a UK permanent resident, and does not have as much experience practicing law in Nepal.&nbsp;
Kandel’s appointment drew flak and raised eyebrows, and with the pending legal cases against Lamichhane this appointment represents a flagrant conflict of interest.
Health Minister Nisha Mehta was also accused of favouritism after reappointing Junu Shrestha, wife of Labour Minister Dipak Kumar Shah, as member of the Health Insurance Board which had earlier suspended her. The Labour Minister’s rambling rant at the Board’s meeting on Tuesday has not helped the RSP’s image.&nbsp;
(UPDATE: On Thursday, Prime Minister Shah sacked the Labour Minister after the RSP found him in breach of the party's code of conduct and discipline. He served 14 days in the Cabinet, one of the shortest tenures for a minister in Nepal )
It is hard to know what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/ball-in-balen-s-court">Balendra Shah is thinking</a>, and how Rabi Lamichhane is going to justify some of these moves. After all, making politics, governance, and bureaucracy a meritocracy has been the core tenet of the RSP, and it risks alienating its mainly youth base if these missteps persist.
But at least for now, most RSP supporters seem to be giving the party the benefit of doubt.

Nepal’s new government springs into action

It is only April, and Himalayan expeditions are already making rotations to acclimatise on Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, and will soon be making summit pushes.&nbsp; On Mt Everest, Icefall Doctors are fixing ropes and ladders into the Western Cwm as international climbers arrive at Base Camp. Spring 2026 is going to be the busiest and most crowded so far in the Nepal Himalaya. The main reason is that China has closed expeditions from the north side for eight-thousanders Everest and Cho Oyu, and also Xixapangma.&nbsp; The closure is informal, from what one can make out. The Chinese have not put out any official statement, but there are no permits either. The reason seemingly was the ‘Rising Dragon’ firework display last September by pyrotechnic artist Cai Guo-Qiang near Xigatse.&nbsp; Working with outdoor wear company Arc’teryx, Guo-Qiang set off an impressive sequence of orange and white fireworks that wound up a mountain. The spectacular display was criticised for damaging the fragile ecology of the Tibetan Plateau. But this cannot be the only reason the north side is closed. Experienced Everest blogger Alan Arnette anticipates that about 125 climbers will shift to the Nepal side of the mountains, and expects there to be up to 900 summits this spring — up from the highest spring number so far of 876 climbers on top in 2019.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260404050428_8c31812bf38f699c4faa74f25814a6ddaee397f71a629e549023f29250f05082.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260404050428_8c31812bf38f699c4faa74f25814a6ddaee397f71a629e549023f29250f05082" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="mountaineering"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TENZING</figcaption> </figure>  The early Base Camp arrivals are having problems with their first rotations because of heavy snow this season. Unlike previous springs, this year has seen back-to-back blizzards at high altitudes since February. The increased snow load on the slopes have increased avalanche danger right across the mountains.&nbsp; There has been an increase in numbers on Everest despite the West Asia war, flight disruptions, LPG shortage and new regulations. The permit fee has gone up for the first time since 2015 from $11,000 to $15,000 this year.&nbsp; The Tourism Bill passed by Nepal’s Upper House last year would have required climbers to have first summitted a 7,000m peak in Nepal before attempting Everest. However, the Department of Tourism has confirmed that there are no new experience requirements this season. Some want this rule changed to include 7,000m peaks anywhere in the world. That could be one reason people are rushing to climb Everest before the Nepal government changes its mind and enforces the new regulations on prior experience on Everest. “It’s probably going to encourage a lot of people that simply are not ready to go,” reckons Alan Arnette. “Once again, we may see a lot of inexperienced people on the mountain trying to get in before the rule comes into place, if it does.”&nbsp; Arnette has always been sceptical of Everest regulations, and points out many instances where rules have been announced but not implemented over the ten years that he has been tracking them. For example, a helicopter ban to Everest Base Camp was announced last year, but rescinded. A rule requiring climbers to bring down waste was never seriously enforced. Since there is so much money involved for the government and for the operators, any any rule that would reduce revenue is never fully implemented. This year there is another ‘High-Altitude Trash Quota’ rule requiring climbers and guides operating above Camp 2 to collect and bring down at least 2kg of waste from the higher camps.&nbsp; The Nepal government has tried to diversify peaks on offer by reducing the royalty on climbs, but the draw of Everest, Annapurna and other eight-thousanders seems to be too great. Even when the permit fees for some remote peaks like Kangri Shar, Himlung and Api, were reduced to $400, there are few takers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120436_a90cd44858e97086f773aa1fbd592b3434bb07d89cd4a1843b2ca32a84e7c72d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260402120436_a90cd44858e97086f773aa1fbd592b3434bb07d89cd4a1843b2ca32a84e7c72d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Photo Damien Francois"> <figcaption>Photo: DAMIEN FRANCOIS</figcaption> </figure>  TIME LAPSE Clients and expedition operators have been trying to shorten the time needed to complete an Everest expedition from the city of origin to the top and back. Since Nepal has no rules about spending a certain number of days in acclimatisation, this has allowed some expedition organisers to use new technology.&nbsp; Austrian operator Lukas Furtenbach last May led a group of four British ex-military clients to the summit within a week of leaving London. This climb was scrutinised because the group had practiced breathing xenon gas, a substance that increases the count of red blood cells and is banned in competitive sports. The climbers had also trained for months at home in hypoxic tents, and used supplemental oxygen during the actual climb.&nbsp; The success of that expedition prompted an investigation by Nepal’s Ministry of Culture, Tourism, and Civil Aviation, but there was nothing it could do because the team had taken the xenon in Germany two weeks before their trip. But even if they had administered the gas in Nepal, it would technically not be illegal. Furtenbach is firmly in favour of speed, and of using the gas. “The only reason why we are working with xenon is to make climbing safer, to protect climbers from high altitude sickness,” he says, arguing that the less time climbers spend on the mountains, the less their exposure is to disasters, sickness, and they also generate less trash.&nbsp; His firm, Furtenbach Adventure, offers a three-week Everest South Flash expedition, at a cost of €100,000, using custom oxygen systems. Other expeditions take up to two months.&nbsp; A young American duo of Ryan Mitchell and Justin Sockett got to Everest Base Camp five days ago. They are preparing for an oxygen-free summit attempt.&nbsp; ‘ Being around these mountains for one day has already brought me so much joy. Every time I come back to the Khumbu I feel more familiar and connected,’ posted Mitchell. He and Sockett have since summitted Lobuche East (6,119m) as they continue to acclimatise and wait for the Khumbu Icefall route to be fixed.&nbsp; There are other sans-O2 trips planned this climbing season in Nepal. Norwegian Kristin Harila, the fastest in the world to climb all 14 8,000ers (in 92 days), is attempting the Nuptse, Lhotse, and Everest three-peak climb without supplemental oxygen. American Tyler Andrews and Ecuadorian Karl Egloff are continuing their race to break records in Everest. While Andrews is attempting the Fastest Known Time from Base Camp to the top without oxygen, Egloff is taking it a step further and going for a round trip: from Base Camp to the summit and back in record time.&nbsp; Both Egloff and Andrews had attempted these climbs in 2025 spring, but abandoned around 7,000m due to bad weather.&nbsp; Kami Rita Sherpa wants to extend his all-time record of total Everest summits to 32, while Kenton Cool from England is chasing 20, a non-Nepali record.&nbsp; The first summits of the season will be in late April, or early May depending on weather. Besides Everest, there are a lot of interesting climbs on lesser known peaks.&nbsp; The Japanese trio of Masayuki Takenaka, Tatsuro Sugimoto, and Ryota Nomura, for example, are attempting the unclimbed Jarkya Himal (6,473m) near Manaslu. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Fake rescues</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120436_600c0176e24327fd3dfcfd634e4b871f3e5314aa00eb4885ad137ac6f9c4a3b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260402120436_600c0176e24327fd3dfcfd634e4b871f3e5314aa00eb4885ad137ac6f9c4a3b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="519" loading="lazy" alt="Fake rescues"> </figure>  This year’s spring climbing season has coincided with Nepal’s new government taking action against alleged perpetrators in fake rescues and insurance fraud. The Central Investigation Bureau (CIB) has already arrested more than a dozen trekking agency executives, hospital managers and helicopter company executives for medevac insurance fraud. Climbers are known to fabricate medical emergencies, get flown down from as high as Camp II on Everest, and then submit false insurance claims.&nbsp; Sometimes one flight is made to look like many using fake invoices. Trekking companies are also involved in fake rescues of hikers who just get tired of walking.&nbsp; Too many fake claims could lead to insurer’s losing confidence in the industry, and increased premiums, leading to delayed responses in real accidents.&nbsp; As a result of the scandal, there is now more scrutiny from the government about rescues. Already, helicopter operators have to wait for permission before carrying out rescues while their application is vetted.&nbsp; The worry is that this could cause unnecessary delays when time is of the essence in mountain rescue. Already, medevacs are delayed because of the bureaucracy needing permits to fly to sensitive regions bordering China. Last year, a climber died on Himlung because helicopter rescue took too long while operators ran from door to door in Kathmandu to obtain necessary permits. <h2>Mingma David Sherpa, MP</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_05c1600440327f4ae4bcae641b634714951f45702080a88d4e2628587190aa25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260402120432_05c1600440327f4ae4bcae641b634714951f45702080a88d4e2628587190aa25" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Mingma David Sherpa"> </figure>  Meet Mingma David Sherpa, Nepal’s first mountaineer to be nominated to Parliament. Sherpa is a self-made professional climber from Rolwaling, who rose up from an expedition porter to a record-breaking mountaineer and expedition organiser. As an insider, he is now in a position to streamline laws related to Nepal’s trekking and mountaineering sector. He is co-owner of EliteExped with Nims Purja, and in 2021 the two were part of a team of Nepali climbers to be the first to make it to the top of K2 in winter, the second highest mountain in the world in Pakistan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_c4ec586e7a27b09a72e61925a3897d843f864563d9e82a3fd3e25293e22cbe54.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260402120432_c4ec586e7a27b09a72e61925a3897d843f864563d9e82a3fd3e25293e22cbe54" data-rendition-name="original" width="2082" height="1396" loading="lazy" alt="Mingama David Sherpa"> </figure>  Mingma David was also on Purja’s Project Possible to climb all the 14 eight-thousanders in six months, shattering the previous record of seven years. He was featured in Purja’s documentary 14 Peaks: Nothing is Impossible.&nbsp; At age 30 he became the youngest climber to reach the top of all 14 eight-thousanders for which he was awarded the Piolet d’Or. Mingma David has taken part in dozens of successful rescues of fellow climber, including the highest ever long-line rescue on Dhaulagiri and saving the life of fellow-climber from 8,600m on Everest. <h2>April Fool</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_775afff27d4a2889a60730aa25bbc5f8eb8ea343528c8c031a6febbfd74814c4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260402120432_775afff27d4a2889a60730aa25bbc5f8eb8ea343528c8c031a6febbfd74814c4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="1820" loading="lazy" alt="Furtenback Adventures"> </figure>  The Austrian expedition outfitting company Furtenbach Adventures spoofed the anticipated crowds on an April First post on social media this week, showing ‘a fully galvanized, weather-resistant steel staircase, complete with a sturdy handrail’ to make the Hillary Step bottleneck on Mt Everest less dangerous.

Nepal Himalaya Spring 2026

Barely a month after the March election, newly elected lawmakers convened for the first session of Parliament on Thursday (picured above).
But the RSP had already hit the ground running in its first week in office. Prime Minister Balendra Shah and his trusted Home Minister Sudan Gurung conducted a slew of high profile arrests. &nbsp;
The former prime minister, home minister and Kathmandu CDO, among others, were detained in connection with the 8 September massacre outside Parliament.&nbsp;
The Cabinet unveiled its 100-point roadmap outlining sweeping institutional, economic and social reforms to ensure better service delivery, and setting deadlines for itself for the first 100 days in office.&nbsp;
Key priorities include strengthening digital governance, removing redundancy across the civil service, investigating assets of high-ranking political and government figures, depoliticising the bureaucracy and universities, as well as broader legal and constitutional reforms.
“The move to hold former leaders accountable sends a powerful signal that impunity is no longer politically untouchable,” says Pukar Malla of Governance Lab at Daayitwa Abhiyan. “On the reform agenda, the direction is right but the timeline is too compressed, 100 days is not enough to transform the system. It is only enough to establish the discipline of transformation.”
The RSP’s decisions have mostly been greeted with enthusiasm by the electorate which gave the party an almost two-thirds majority in Parliament. Nepalis are for the first time in decades genuinely hopeful about the country’s leadership.
“The enthusiasm is real because the pain is real. &nbsp;But people are not just asking for symptoms to be treated. They want the patterns underneath the symptoms to change,” says Malla. "That is where the leadership journey becomes much harder, because structural change is slower, more conflictual, and far less theatrical than headline decisions.”
The RSP’s prompt proactiveness signals a can-do approach designed to placate voters impatient to see immediate change, and also to warn influential figures of the past three decades that anyone can be dragged to jail or put on the immigration no-fly list. The message is also to the bureaucracy to pull its weight, and clean up its act.&nbsp;
But in public discourse, there is also a sense that anyone critical of the government’s decisions can be targeted and trolled. Enthusiasm about the new government &nbsp;seems to outweigh critical and nuanced reasoning about whether ‘Balen Sarkar’ can achieve targets it has given itself within the self-imposed timeframe.&nbsp;
Any concerns about the RSP’s perceived high-handedness or criticism of state overreach tends to be dismissed, branded as noisemaking by mouthpieces of old parties.
Critics say the arrest of Oli, Lekhak others did not follow due process, and displays the very partisanship and vendetta tactics of the legacy parties that the RSP vowed to dismantle.
“The detentions and the plans this government has made for the next 100 days might be necessary, but they seem to be optimised for public spectacle and rather than being deliberative steps for sustained reforms,” says researcher Dovan Rai of Body and Data.
She adds: “K P Oli failed because he put himself above the system, and it seems as though that power has just transferred from one personality to another. What we need is strong institutions, not strongmen that play the role of hero or villain.”
The RSP’s strategy to overhaul the state apparatus is high-stakes, aspirational and at times unquantifiable. The new leaders and the public must recognise that Nepal’s problems cannot be solved in 100 days.
The near two-thirds dominance in Parliament offers the RSP a chance to show results, but it is also an unforgiving majority. Failure is not an option.
Adds Pukar Malla: Political leadership may drive change from above, but civil society and citizen networks have to partner from below.”
The NC and the UML are licking their wounds, and again proved their obsolescence this week by trying to rehabilitate and reinstate old leaders. The UML is on warpath, and missed another opportunity to turn a new leaf by rejecting 36-year-old Suhang Nembang as parliamentary party leader.
People who did not vote for RSP must give the party a chance to deliver on promises. But the party's most effective opposition may have to be its own voters, who must play the check and balance role by insisting on results, and preventing fawning support for populist leaders resulting in authoritarian creep. &nbsp;&nbsp;
“The public now plays a critical role in holding the leadership accountable, it must go beyond small wins,” says Dovan Rai. “Support must not come from opportunism, and criticism must not be based on prejudice.”

RSP dos and don’ts

Nepal is known internationally for its successful community forestry programme, and the country has doubled its forest cover to over 45% in the last 25 years.&nbsp; But the opposite is true for densely populated urban centres like Kathmandu Valley which have turned into concrete jungles, with no remaining open spaces. Air pollution is increasing to hazardous levels, and the urban heat bubble means the temperature in the city is 2°C-3°C higher than in the outskirts. But there is a solution with a proven track record from similar densely populated cities in Japan — the ‘Miyawaki Method’ of growing local varieties of trees in any small patch of land in the city and turning them into compact forests. Named after Japanese botanist Akira Miyawaki in the early 1970s, carefully selected native trees and plants grow in tiny plots of land, or even in household backyards. They regenerate degraded urban soil, and help restore some greenery and biodiversity back to sterile city centres. The group Lily Leaves has planted Miyawaki forests in six sites across Kathmandu, and is on a mission to green all the river corridors in the Valley. So far, it has planted more than 17,000 trees belonging to nearly 40 species in patches of land along the Bishnumati and Swayambhu, and is eyeing the UN Park area along the Bagmati. “It is extremely important to connect with nature and greenery in cities,” says Lily Katuwal of Lily Leaves. "Besides restoring nature, these forests also clean air pollution and reduce summer temperatures.” Unlike traditional reforestation where trees of the same species are planted in bulk at a distance of 3-4m, Miyawaki prioritises native varieties best suited to Kathmandu Valley’s microclimate. The saplings are packed densely together, spaced only 60cm apart. After they start growing, native grass and undergrowth also thrive. The most recent plantation was along the banks of the Bagmati in Sanepa where, in addition to camphor and jacaranda which are grown in the area, native species such as kabro (Ficus lacor), kanike (Forget-me-not), parijat (Night-flowering Jasmine or Coral Jasmine), chanp (Plumeria), harro (Ink Nut) and barro (Bahera) were planted. A new site in Kirtipur is being readied for the next plantation. Miyawaki has been carried out elsewhere in various parts of Nepal, primarily in Dhanusha which has seen forest regrowth that has brought back insect, bird, reptile and amphibian life.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120428_e70c196852945760d082fc73ee18ea6883d13c16186893c00c10fd0a0ea12105.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260402120428_e70c196852945760d082fc73ee18ea6883d13c16186893c00c10fd0a0ea12105" data-rendition-name="original" width="1201" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Planting seeds for a greener Kathmandu"> </figure>  EMPOWERING WOMEN Lily Leaves employs just 17 women, six of whom have hearing disabilities. Many have been neglected or abandoned by their in-laws for various reasons. They have a livelihood and learn new skills so they can also find jobs elsewhere.&nbsp; “We trained them in plantation and other skills including tailoring, as well as jewelry, bag and reusable pad making,” says Katuwal. “They are now experts in planting trees.”&nbsp; Lily Leaves gets support from Pipal Tree International in the UK and Nepal, and hopes that the idea of compact urban forest spreads. This is especially important in areas like Taudaha, which is an important stopover for migratory birds. Once noted for its aquatic and avian biodiversity, Taudaha has become lined with concrete and has turned into a loud picnic spot. Urban expansion has encroached upon what used to be the floodplain of the Dhobi Khola, Bishnumati, Bagmati and Manohara rivers. The open spaces along the river corridors are being turned into green belts haphazardly. For many wards, the concept of green space is to have cement pavements and ornamental hard-to-maintain potted plants instead of allowing urban forests to grow back naturally. “Apartment buildings and housing colonies that are being constructed can include green spaces that can increase the real estate and rent value of property,” Katuwal says. “Engineers designing the buildings can suggest such changes so that we remain connected with nature.” Although Lily Leaves needs to have permission from local ward and municipal councils before implementing any program, it continues to face challenges in ensuring smooth coordination.&nbsp; In one such plantation along the Bishnumati River corridor, for example, a heavy earthmover uprooted young trees that were just beginning to thrive. Despite this setback, Katuwal’s team returned to replant them. The land mafia often covets the last remaining open spaces in Kathmandu, deploying local strongmen to try to take them over. &nbsp;They tear down fences, uproot saplings and loot tools. There is a lack of awareness about the importance of greening the city. But now that the former mayor of Kathmandu Balendra Shah is prime minister, national awareness could translate into more urban forests not just in Kathmandu but also in overcrowded urban centres across Nepal. Says Lily Katuwal: “We just plant the seed in people’s minds. Once people in the neighbourhood see that restoring nature lifts their quality of life and increases land prices, there is support. That is when the power of a good example spreads, and communities build on the idea.” &nbsp;

Planting seeds for a greener Kathmandu

Top news

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

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