Migrant>returnee>entrepreneur>politician

This is the 84th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad.

Growing up, my parents encouraged me to prioritise studies. As the youngest, I always had an inner desire to be independent.

My job at a travel agency in Kathmandu did not inspire me much. I wanted to strike off on my own but did not have money, and was reluctant to ask my parents because then they might have wanted to marry me off.

So without telling them, I started Korean language lessons. What I had read and heard about Korea appealed to me because it was safe for women, they were treated respectfully and protected by strong laws. I wanted to temporarily migrate with the sole purpose of raising enough capital to start my own business one day.

I made my passport without telling my parents. It was a hassle because they needed the consent of guardians since girls were at risk of being trafficked. I convinced them I was able to stand up for myself.

I passed the Korean exam, and only then told my parents. I was in the first cohort under the Korea G2G Employment Permit System (EPS). The work there was not difficult: I trimmed, cleaned, sorted imported flower bulbs. My monthly earnings were Rs60,000 with overtime.

I got engaged to my friend with 200 guests in attendance at a Lama ceremony. We had gone as friends but realised there that we were meant for each other. Later, when we returned to Nepal, we got married in a traditional ceremony.

I stayed on in Nepal after my wedding while my husband re-migrated. We have two children, and when the younger one turned two, I was ready to go back to work. This time, as an entrepreneur.

I bought the rights to an outlet of the Burger House and Crunchy Fried Chicken franchise which was neither too posh nor too shabby, reasonably priced, hygienic and with a cosy ambience.

The outlet did well, and the lessons I picked up in Korea helped -- it taught me to value every second and be disciplined. I now transfer these lessons to my trainees. As a café entrepreneur no work is too small. I clean, wash dishes, make coffee, train, and run the cash register. I do it all. I have learnt the value of work.

I was once contacted by the Korean Embassy. They wanted to understand what returnees in Nepal are up to. They put our stories in a book. The K-Hami project team encouraged me to share my story and inspire other Korea returnees, especially women.

We created the DidiBahini network for women returnees, which we have recently registered as Sangi Nepal. There is a shared journey that binds us returnees. We know the struggle overseas. We value hard-earned money that comes with immense sacrifices, and we have learnt that hard work and dedication pays.

As a restaurant entrepreneur, I often get calls from youth asking for jobs. They are under 25 and are struggling to juggle work and study. They need skills and jobs, so I started a hospitality training centre to help young people develop job ready skills. I did not think that I would get into politics, even though my grandfather was once a minister. As an entrepreneur, I can be everything the situation demands: barista, cashier, trainer, cleaner, dishwasher. And that is what politicians should also be. It is about more than power, it is a service. You have to experience hunger to solve hunger, empathise with people and their struggles.

I had never seen myself as a politician, but I know that I understand people. When someone is hurting, it hurts me. People had started noticing, and I was invited to join various political parties.

INTO POLITICS

In my neighbour’s house, for example, there was no water and sewage was a problem. The prolonged inaction bothered me so I lobbied to get it fixed. This made me understand how far we can go if we serve selflessly. If we have a voice, we need to use it.

Even then I did not think I would join politics, at least not directly and not for another ten years. During past elections, I used to educate people about good candidates and to think beyond parties. When I had heard that Kulman Ghising was starting a party, I trusted that he could contribute a lot based on his delivery experience.

I just wanted to volunteer for his party, but ended up joining it. I realised women do not want to enter the fray, and are satisfied with proportional representation seats. Women should not hold back, or be held back. We should fight, share our vision and take action. We need to be in decision-making roles too.

I wanted to see more women in Parliament. I wanted to fight direct elections and was appointed to run in Kathmandu-7. I felt proud.

We don’t need to make lofty promises. Politicians do not care about the grassroots. They are stuck to their chairs. I do not have an unrealistic vision but want to help people in tangible ways.

For hungry people, food is a priority. For the uneducated, it is education. For the sick, even one medicine tablet can go a long way. Health, education and jobs are my focus. I want to promote youth self-employment and decent jobs, just as I did as an entrepreneur.

Being elected to power is not enough, you have to perform and deliver. Even in Kathmandu, there is poverty and hunger. It is hard to believe that some of these places exist in the capital — hard to reach places with no basic services. This hurt as well as inspired me.

If I am elected to Parliament, I will serve selflessly. As a returnee with a voice and the possibility to make policies and laws, I want to encourage people overseas to come back with whatever savings and learning they have and contribute to the country. It may not be easy, but it will be worth it.

I myself may not have faced challenges overseas, but there are many who do not have a positive experience abroad, I will raise their concerns. I will also continue to encourage other women to do more. As a businesswoman, a politician and a mother I will erase any doubts they have about their capabilities. I will continue to be that source of courage.

In Kathmandu-7, there are 29 candidates, I am the only female. While campaigning, people often ask me if I have money. When I say I don’t, they ask how I expect to fight an election. Through my idealism, I tell them. People also ask me if I am a proportional representation candidate. That is the first impression voters have of women candidates. When I tell them I am contesting directly, many are surprised. There are challenges but I like challenges. I like a fight.

There will be winners and losers, that is part of the game. All I want to do is inspire fellow women and youth. My husband has whole-heartedly supported my business and political journey.

My children are curious what will happen if I win. Even before I stood as a candidate, they knew their mother was a fearless leader. They now recognise the green Ujyalo Nepal Party banners.

Looking at my children makes me even more committed to shape the future of the next generations of Nepalis. This is what got me into politics in the first place: to serve.