- High Court employee Amrita KC fulfilled her duties as a polling officer in Nepalganj on election day, with her six-month-old daughter held in her arms.&nbsp; - The same morning in Kathmandu-1, RSP candidate Ranju Neupane appeared at the polling station to cast her vote with her 10-day-old baby. The next day, she became the first candidate declared a winner by the Election Commission. Her party won a supermajority and will now be tasked with reforms in governance, development, the economy, and service delivery. At least four of the winning RSP candidates are doctors, and the party must fulfil its campaign promise of improving healthcare access across Nepal. Among the lowest-ranking region for healthcare indicators in Nepal is Madhes Province. Across the districts of Madhes and Karnali, where maternal and neonatal health outcomes remain poorer than in the rest of the nation, local governments in collaboration with non-profits, have financed and facilitated the operation of birthing centres where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-haemorrhaging-nurses">nurses are lifelines</a> for pregnant women, new mothers, and newborn babies.&nbsp; At the Inarwari birthing centre in Rautahat district, nurse midwife Manisha Kushwaha gently applies ultrasound gel on the abdomen of 28-year-old Robina Khatun who is having a sonogram in the first trimester.&nbsp; Kushwaha glides the transducer over Khatun’s belly before pronouncing her baby healthy. She will later send the ultrasound machine for the municipality’s monthly mobile sonogram program in a neighbouring village.&nbsp; Ministry of Health and Population guidelines recommend that pregnant people make eight antenatal care (ANC) visits to health posts before their delivery date. Expecting mothers are also provided Rs800 for the eight visits and travel costs according to geographical region. In Baudhimai, the local government provides more incentives: 10 eggs for non-vegetarian and protein powder for vegetarian mothers-to-be per visit. The municipality also provides free ambulance service for pregnant women, and conducts a monthly mobile sonogram program across all communities.&nbsp; The initiatives of local governments, health officials, non-profits, and volunteers have meant that institutional deliveries here have increased drastically. In Rautahat, institutional deliveries have increased from 50% to 68% in four years, according to figures from the non-profit One Heart Worldwide that works to improve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-lagging-in-safe-motherhood">maternal and neonatal health</a> outcomes arcoss Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1034" height="650" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  “Home deliveries have completely stopped in Inarwari, and women are increasingly accessing ante-natal and post-natal care, as well as family planning measures,” says Manisha Kushwaha. “Women and families here are now more aware of maternal and neonatal healthcare.” One of them is Noor Jahan Khatun, who had her first baby at home and gave birth to her second child at the local birthing centre despite wanting another home birth. When the due date for her third child came around, she walked to the health post herself.&nbsp; “I realised it is much better to give birth at the hospital,” Noor, who is pregnant with her fourth child, told us. “They have everything we need in case of complications.” The nursing staff at the birthing centre, as well as other centres in the municipality also periodically review their training in the birthing simulation room set up on the premises of the Inarwari birthing centre so that they retain their training and continue to hone their skills. Over in Sarlahi’s Sundarpur in Chakraghatta Rural Municipality, a state-of-the-art birthing centre now stands adjacent to the derelict old structure from which nurses previously had to provide services.&nbsp; The new and improved maternity ward was built last year with Rs2.4 million from the municipality and a Rs2 million from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">One Heart Worldwide</a> under a cost-sharing public-private partnership formula.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Sundarpur birthing centre in Sarlahi built through the collaboration of the local government and One Heart Worldwide.</figcaption> </figure>  Chief nurse Sunita Rai has been stationed here for the last six years, and looks at the old building. “I remember when we had to deliver babies while ankle-deep in flood water during monsoon,” recalls Rai. “This new facility and the equipment have improved service.”&nbsp; Since the start of the fiscal year, the six-nurse team at Sundarpur has delivered more than 140 babies. One day last month, a national holiday, the centre was quieter than usual, with just two women waiting for delivery.&nbsp; But fewer-than-usual patients does not mean there is no work to be done. In the afternoon, nurses make the rounds of the community to conduct post-natal care visits, and to keep track of how the new mothers and babies in the village are doing. This is important because neonatal mortality of babies within the first month of birth is still high. “For the people in this village we are both the doctor and the nurse,” Rai says matter-of-factly as she walks towards the village to see a new mother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027" data-rendition-name="original" width="790" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  In Sarlahi's Laxmipur Kodraha, Kanchan Rai makes her own rounds, calling out to several young children playing in the pale afternoon sun. Rai has been stationed in Laxmipur for 10 years and delivered most of those children playing outside herself. A beloved member of the community, Rai is greeted by several women and invited in for tea and snacks as she walks by. The Laxmipur birthing centre has seen major renovations to make it more spacious, better equipped, and hygienic. Mothers now have more privacy, especially from men who in the past would simply barge in wanting to know which woman from the village was about to give birth.&nbsp; “We deliver 400 babies on average every year,” Rai says. “There have been zero home births in this village for the last five years, and women are increasingly accessing maternal healthcare and family planning services.” Institutional deliveries in Sarlahi have gone up from 37% to 71% over the past five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="359" height="329" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Pregnant women who require C-sections, or those who experience complications during pregnancies, are referred to the nearest provincial hospitals in Gaur or Malangwa. “Community-based awareness programs about going for hospital visits have helped reduce home deliveries, and counselling sessions provided to new mothers at provincial hospitals have contributed to better maternal and neonatal health outcomes,” says Sachin Yadav, obstetrician-gynaecologist at Malangwa Provincial Hospital. SAFE MOTHERHOOD Newborns with birth asphyxia, tachycardia, meconium aspiration syndrome and other complications are admitted to the special newborn care unit at the Gaur Provincial Hospital. But Apsana Khatun, chief nurse at the hospital’s maternal and neonatal unit says: “We have not been able to provide neo-natal care as effectively because we do not have an NICU.”&nbsp; Provincial hospitals provide life-saving services, but remain underfunded and in need of life-saving equipment. At the Gaur Hospital, Rukmini Kumari Shah gently rocks her three-day-old son, who was admitted to the special newborn care unit due to birth asphyxia and dehydration.&nbsp; “I have not even been able to think of a name for him,” says the 25-year-old. “My other two children were born normal but I worry for this one.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Gaur Provincial Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  This is where the election pledge of the RSP will be tested. Will the new government cut through the bureaucracy, corruption and resource constraints to provide life-saving services to mothers and babies in places like Rautahat and Sarlahi? There has been no maternal mortality at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital for the last two years, but the hospital has had neonatal deaths. “We need more spacious waiting areas and training for maternal and neonatal healthcare workers,” says Sachin Yadav. “Without that we are unable to serve our patients and have to send them to Kathmandu or Birganj.” In Baudhimai village, patient numbers have increased by 140% in the last three years, but the federal government slashed the health budget by 60%. The government across three levels is supposed to provide 98 types of essential medicine free of cost at primary healthcare centres, but the federal and provincial governments often fail to make their share of the drugs available.&nbsp; “Federal and especially provincial governments have been irresponsible when it comes to investing in local healthcare,” says Baudhimai mayor Pradeep Kumar Yadav. Health workers and institutions continue to work without being paid or funded when the budget remains frozen for months at a time. “It does not matter to a patient when the fiscal year begins,” says Sachin Yadav at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital. “Maternal deaths do not wait for the budget to be released.” And despite budget constraints, political posturing still continues. At local levels, officials build multiple birthing centres in each ward when one would suffice, and these buildings remain empty.&nbsp; Politics also plays a significant role in whether or not local officials are willing to agree when health officials try to refer pregnancy-related complications to better-equipped facilities. And while services have improved due to the efforts of dedicated healthcare officials, they are transferred from one place to another at the whim of governments that come and go, which means staff turnover in these institutions is very high, affecting consistent service delivery. &nbsp; Yadav has been at Malangwa for three years— during which yearly institutional deliveries have gone from 2,000 to 3,200 and C-section births have gone from 150 to 700. He had just begun to hit his stride at the hospital when he received transfer letters to another hospital.&nbsp; So far, he has managed to hold on to his position in Malangwa, but he does not know how long he will be able to delay the transfer. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Tackling patriarchy</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09" data-rendition-name="original" width="1850" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> </figure>  Nepal has made dramatic progress in reducing the maternal mortality rate (MMR) from 539 per 100,000 births to 142 over the past 30 years. But that is the national average. MMR is still high in parts of Nepal where access to healthcare and adoption of health services are not as extensive. One reason is that despite birthing centres and awareness of pre- and post-natal healthcare, s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-slaughter-of-our-daughters">ocio-cultural norms in a patriarchal society</a> also mean that female literacy remains low, and the rate of underage marriage is high.&nbsp; Rautahat has the lowest literacy rate in Nepal, and the lowest female literacy rate. This has a direct correlation with its its fertility and maternal mortality rates. Gaur Hospital continues to see maternal and intrauterine fetal death (IUFD) deaths due to a lack of ANC visits by patients. In the absence of education and information, socio-cultural misconceptions still persist. Women refuse to take essential pre-natal medication like folic acid because they think it will affect their babies’ complexion, and do not eat enough fruits because they believe it will cause fetal pneumonia.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856" data-rendition-name="original" width="377" height="367" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Women are also expected to get through their pregnancies without going for health check ups in keeping with the tradition of their mothers and mothers-in-law enduring pregnancy and childbirth at home without access to healthcare. Maternal and neonatal health outcomes are also affected by child marriage, as well as the patriarchy-enforced preference of a male child in the family.&nbsp; At Gaur Provincial Hospital, 25-year-old Asha Kumari stands with her hands braced against the hospital bed as she is gripped by a contraction. Her eldest child is already 12, and she is at the hospital to have her fifth baby.&nbsp; “She had already had two children by the time she was 18,” explains her mother, who is here with Asha’s mother-in-law. &nbsp; Officials worry that reporting instances of child marriage might mean that women no longer trust health workers and hospitals, and stop accessing healthcare altogether. They insist that investment in maternal health needs to be accompanied by socio-cultural interventions. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FtVA--CRk3nM%3Fsi%3DJtFs6cwqOhJua9NI&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Here & Now

Motherhood in the Madhes

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017. Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force. Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"><figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption></figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Sajha Party in 2013. Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"><figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption></figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022. Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September. In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics. In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film. It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers. But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

Shristi Karki

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Mamata Kumari Yadav was born just before her father passed his high school exam on his second attempt. Which is why Ram Kewal Ray thinks his daughter brings good luck. Mamata is now a government civil servant, and has three sisters and a younger brother. All are doing well in their professions: one is a doctor at the Army Hospital, another has an MSc in Microbiology, and the other is working in Australia after finishing her MPh. Her brother, an engineering student, is in Kathmandu. “It was all because our parents prioritised education that we did so well in life,” says Mamata. Instead of being woken up to do household chores or work on the family farm, they were encouraged to finish their homework first. While Ram showed his daughters the way and encouraged them to study, it was Sanjeev Karn, a primary school teacher at a school near their home, who motivated them to do well. On International Women's Day, the story of Mamata and her sisters is an inspiring account of dedication, hard work and good guidance.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422" data-rendition-name="original" width="873" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Samata, Punam, Kumudini and Mamata, the four accomplished Yadav sisters from Sarlahi</figcaption> </figure>  Boys always came first in class, but that changed when Mamata and her sisters started excelling in their studies. All four sisters consistently ranked first in their classes and became widely known in the community for their performance. “My friend Sanjay Chaudhary was my biggest competition and used to stand second. He is an engineer now. We are still good friends and laugh about how we were rivals,” recalls Mamata. In a school where no girl had previously passed the high school exam with first division, Mamata became the first to do so and set a record that her sisters later followed. Her uncle in Kathmandu called her father Ram Kewal with the news that Mamata had passed in the first division. Overjoyed, her father went to school and bought Fanta for all her teachers in celebration.&nbsp; Mamata went to Chitwan after receiving a scholarship for a health assistant course. Although her school in Sarlahi was Nepali-medium, she was not able to speak the language properly and felt more comfortable using Maithili. In the new environment, she struggled with language and confidence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata in Sarlahi with her siblings and father when she was young</figcaption> </figure>  She was surprised to learn that Maithili is not spoken all over Nepal. The course was demanding, the textbooks were in English, the student community was diverse, and academic expectations were high. But Mamata began building friendships and confidence. Her sisters later joined her in Chitwan. Mamata returned to Sarlahi and began working with an organisation as a counsellor on sexually transmitted infections. It was her first job, and was proud to be able to support her father. Her second job with a non-profit required field visits across Sarlahi district, so she bought her own second-hand scooter.&nbsp; “Some neighbours did not approve that my parents gave me so much freedom, but they did not pay much heed to such warnings or gossip,” she says. Seeking stability she prepared for the civil service exam for auxiliary health worker position and was stationed in Sindhupalchok. When her father came to drop her off, being used to flat land he was a bit nervous about the steep mountains and 90-minute commute on foot. But he was proud to hear her patients call her ‘doctor’. Later, Mamata transferred back to her home district of Sarlahi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata Kumari Yadav</figcaption> </figure>  On a work trip to Kathmandu, on her family's recommendation she met a young man who was pursuing a master’s degree in engineering. Their first meeting was at a cafe in the presence of her brother. She found him simple, gentle, and committed to his studies, qualities that resonated with her own personality.&nbsp; “We got married, and my parents did not have to invest in dowry for me and my sisters because they had invested in us,” recalls Mamata, who then became a health post in-charge in Lalitpur. Following administrative restructuring, she found herself reporting to juniors, which limited her sense of growth. She then decided to prepare for the civil service exams in administration. Coming from a health background, the syllabus was unfamiliar and broad. Her first attempt taken without much preparation was unsuccessful, a first failure ever for Mamata.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Seeing off her sister Samata who studied MPH under the AusAID Scholarship</figcaption> </figure>  By this time, she had a son and the exam took a back seat for two years while managing her health post and raising him. When he turned two, she sent her son to Sarlahi, where her mother Phul Kumari took care of him so she could focus on her studies. This time, she passed. She became the first from her family in a government administrative position. After gaining enough experience, she aims to go back to the Madhes to serve in government positions as an honest bureaucrat. Her parents continue as they always have. Phul Kumari takes care of the household while Ram Kewal runs a pharmacy and tends to the farm back in Sarlahi. &nbsp; “We daughters owe a lot to our parents because our peers were never given the kinds of opportunities we had,” says Mamata. “They were married young and now have adult children. There is nothing girls cannot do if given the right guidance and opportunities.”

The Girl Dad of Nepal

This is the 88th 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. Chandra Gurung, Sierra Leone Six of us came to Nepal from Sierra Leone to vote for घण्टी of the RSP. But the six votes were wasted because of the crisis in the Gulf and delayed flights. We arrived the day after the election.&nbsp; The morning we were supposed to fly out, we found out our flight was cancelled, so we had to postpone by four days to figure out an alternate route. Luckily, we did not get stranded in the Gulf like many others. Even though I missed the election, I now look forward to spending time with my family especially to help my children with their studies as their exams are approaching. I am happy because it looks like we will get the outcome we desired and came to Nepal for. Stability is Nepal's most urgent need. If the government is stable and works for five years, they might be able to build change.&nbsp; Fighting corruption, quality education and job creation should be the priority for the new government. We had already advised our families to give the new party a chance. Despite being a new party, the RSP has been able to win the hearts of people. Well-educated people with professional backgrounds have joined the party even though they might not have experience in politics. I first left Nepal in 2008, I am still abroad, and I do not know when I will return. I need to save. I want to see this new government create the conditions to bring us back. In these 18 years, I have not felt like returning. My goal is to make sure I can provide good opportunities to my children. I miss home, going overseas is only to make a living.&nbsp; Suraj Bhandari, Korea I had timed my vacation to vote for Nepal. In our discussions back in Korea, the GenZ protest made those of us overseas want to vote for and bring change. Whichever party it was, we wanted a new one. I had also told my family that if I was unable to arrange my vacation around the election, they should consider voting for new candidates.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260307020344_ebd90331e37dd1c6d37c4d1e35fe58eefcbf1923894cf397aafb7a81b887d63f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260307020344_ebd90331e37dd1c6d37c4d1e35fe58eefcbf1923894cf397aafb7a81b887d63f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali migrants in Korea"> </figure>  We have seen what the old parties have done for the country, they had their chance which they wasted.&nbsp; Leaving Nepal feels different because this time, I am leaving with the hope that Nepal will soon be worth returning to. What I realised after migrating is that when you are away, you have even more love for your country. We overseas youth know the pain of being away and wanted to vote for change.&nbsp; If you earn one lakh abroad, you are willing to work for half that amount back home so you can be with your family. Next time when I come back to Nepal, I want to be able to come for good and not just on vacation. I leave with hope. I hope to return to start my business in Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260307020344_e835553553e201610afabafa73827a8b7e56d05a6b86c14721f3080d3d5a730f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260307020344_e835553553e201610afabafa73827a8b7e56d05a6b86c14721f3080d3d5a730f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Korea migrant worker"> </figure>  Investing here in a small business is very risky and I hope that changes. I think we have done our part, now it is up to the new government to do its part. They have five years to deliver and if they don’t, we will again have to look for change. I hope history won't repeat itself. When the Maoists came to power, they had brought a similar sense of hope and people believed them and voted. They started off well initially but failed to deliver. I hope that won't happen with घण्टी. Rajendra Kunjeda, Belgium Those of us overseas have attachments back home. But because of the Gulf crisis I was not able to make it on time for the election.&nbsp; When I talk to colleagues in Belgium, the broad consensus among us Nepalis was that we should give the new party a chance. The expectation from the new government is that we need a way out of the rut the country is in. That is what the election was about.&nbsp; When you live in a developed country, you also hope the same for your country. Transformation takes time, but I hope for the best. Not all the old guard was bad, and not all the new guard will be good either. But the new government has to take the country towards development. The expectation is not for overnight change.&nbsp; I was lucky to get a scholarship to study in Europe and have now started working. My degree in agricultural science is relevant for Nepal and the world – you need food to live.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260307020344_1b419bdc71ea6b2b307d5cace49112f976757949b64323fea282986e11231b55.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260307020344_1b419bdc71ea6b2b307d5cace49112f976757949b64323fea282986e11231b55" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"> </figure>  I felt bad about not making it on time for the election because I was so excited. Not everyone can return, but what the diaspora wants is evident from social media posts and conversations. I did not influence my parents back home because it is their right to vote for whoever they wanted.&nbsp; During the GenZ movement, the deaths of the students were devastating, but it has also made it clear that the nation is desperate for change. It was an outcome of trying to suppress the change that youth desired.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260307020348_3fa02333f99ff131e84e31c2e990aa40fc1797913b5e6625a18f86d40649ddfa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260307020348_3fa02333f99ff131e84e31c2e990aa40fc1797913b5e6625a18f86d40649ddfa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Gen Z movement"> </figure>  In Nepal, I have worked with returnees who came back during Covid-19 to see how their skills can be productively utilised in Nepal. There is a lot of potential there which the government needs to prioritise.&nbsp; I have not decided whether to stay overseas or return to Nepal. If day-to-day life and bureaucracy were easier, it would be better. When I am assured that I can sustain myself and get a sense of satisfaction in Nepal, I will consider returning. I need to feel confident in Nepal, feel ढुक्क that if I work hard both I and the country will benefit. This requires a collaborative approach. The Blue sweep means we are on the right path. Sudip Khanal, Denmark I was coming from Denmark to vote. My wife and I left on 28 February but we were stuck for eight days in Istanbul. I was coming to vote for change. I am happy to see that Blue is winning. Even though I did not get to vote, I am glad the country is getting the change it needed.&nbsp; I first went to Denmark in 2022, starting as a student and after graduation I am working. The Nepal embassy in Copenhagen has made things easier to deal with immigration stuff but for a wider population across the world especially the Gulf I also wish the embassies did more.&nbsp; This time our government was not proactive in supporting Nepalis stranded overseas due to the Gulf crisis. Our main wish is that the new government creates new opportunities at home. Education, healthcare and jobs should be the biggest priorities.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260307020344_a774a87b087d49498900728988049634956e8286a61923d9a8cd0de2fafa49ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260307020344_a774a87b087d49498900728988049634956e8286a61923d9a8cd0de2fafa49ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Belgoum Nepali migrant"> </figure>  If I could earn up to Rs80,000 back home I would return. I studied business in Denmark but I don’t yet have the guts to return. I am worried about whether there will be a return on investment here and there are no jobs to fall back to. Abroad, I can work for someone else even if I cannot start my own business. I hope change will now come. But this will not happen quickly. All of us back in Denmark supported change. We wanted to come as a group but many students faced constraints like exams or classes. I had no holidays but after the GenZ protests I did not want to waste my vote. Unfortunately, I was not able to return in time but I convinced my parents to give घण्टी a chance for the RSP. Let’s see how things go. ANONYMOUS, Dubai I lived in Dubai for five and a half years, returned to Nepal for a year, and then remigrated two years ago. It was convenient that my holidays and the election coincided.&nbsp; The new government should provide proper job opportunities back home. There are 4-5 people in a house, you need at least Rs50,000 to live comfortably in Nepal. When someone is sick, where can we go?&nbsp; Companies abroad are not always good about leave. You are promised something here, and get another job abroad. Embassies do not always listen to us, like the Philippine embassy.&nbsp; People get tired and give up.&nbsp; I am updating election results on my phone but I am more worried about my flight which is likely to be cancelled because of the situation in the Gulf. The airline just says ‘it is not cancelled till now’, but they do not tell you when you can fly.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260307020348_399b70503f4e25a35e21574985d0d188285b457c38534ae6d95b35e4546b5683.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260307020348_399b70503f4e25a35e21574985d0d188285b457c38534ae6d95b35e4546b5683" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali migrants"> </figure>  I paid Rs5,000 to come here from Dhanusa just to be told there are no flights. It is simple things like this that need improvement. We have watched politicians for many years and they kept youth unemployed. How can you love any government that has killed kids?&nbsp; The new ones say they will do something, lets see. Foreign labour migration has helped me. I cannot earn even Rs10,000 a month in my village. How will I support my children? If I go, I can send them money. My family is happy. I work hard for them. If my दुख्ख keeps 4-5 people in my family सुख्ख it is all right, isn’t it?

The diaspora and Nepal's Blue Sweep

This is the 87th 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. Priti Tamang, Qatar I am migrating overseas as a cleaner for the first time. I have said my goodbyes, but am stuck at the airport because of the Qatar crisis. Luckily, I have people travelling with me. I cannot go home because there is a belief that it is bad luck to go home after saying goodbyes. If this wait stretches for more days, I will return to my family. I have come to the airport before to drop off my family and friends, but this time I myself am leaving for Qatar. My brother and brother-in-law are both in Croatia. I only completed Grade 10 and cannot afford to go to Europe. My parents are back in the village.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260305110320_d894cacaebd0eb3b50dcf48d3544c5bea6863c26e42a77c740c0755ed0096b6d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260305110320_d894cacaebd0eb3b50dcf48d3544c5bea6863c26e42a77c740c0755ed0096b6d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali migrant worker in Qatar"></figure>  There are no jobs here. Those who do get good jobs know big people. I hope to change my life and make my family happy. I don’t have such high expectations. I have mixed feelings about missing the election. They say we have to choose a good leader, but they all make lofty, empty promises. How to decide who to vote for? The crooks win, and people like us have to leave the country anyway. But a part of me also wishes I could vote for someone good. I hope the new government will make lives more comfortable. I am a single mother and have to provide for my son. My sister is taking care of him while I am away. I am unable to give my son anything beyond a good education, I hope he realises his mother went out of her way to educate him. If I could just find a Rs25,000 job in Nepal, I would not have to leave. My English is weak, and my Nepali is better now. Sabitri Paudel, Malaysia I am married with a son. I am migrating to learn and earn to help my family. I have done many kinds of jobs in Nepal. I worked in a factory and also as a marketing manager. I am migrating to Malaysia without paying any fees through Aakarshan International. I would still have borrowed money to migrate if the amount was reasonable. But this way there is no financial burden on my family. I can now focus on supporting my son. Most of my relatives are overseas in Japan and Korea.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260305110316_d7d8b75bf0d807a33371c6e6cb4a5125aad90d1425dddfea6db68f3c149e9d38.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260305110316_d7d8b75bf0d807a33371c6e6cb4a5125aad90d1425dddfea6db68f3c149e9d38" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="women migrant worker"></figure>  I am going away right ahead of the election, and have a twinge of regret that my vote will be wasted. But I hope the new candidates will perform well. The new government should create conditions so those who want to be in Nepal can stay. It’s not like I don’t have skills, but they are not utilised here. Even if I am unable to vote, I hope the government will not let the votes of my family go to waste. Law enforcement in Nepal is weak. My brother was cheated while emigrating to Serbia, and he is still fighting the case. Nepalis should not be defrauded like my brother was, and the culprits must face justice. Sangita Darlani Magar, Romania I have been living in Romania since 2022. I work in a nail salon. I came here when I was 20, since I could not complete my undergraduate because of Covid. I chose Romania because the cost of recruitment was the lowest among European countries. But I had not even heard of the country. I also chose it because it allowed travel to other European countries. I worked as a babysitter, switched to a warehouse and now I am in a salon. My English is good enough for Romania. My language skill and calm personality impressed my boss, and it is after securing my job that I learnt about nail care and hairdressing during a vacation in Nepal. I honestly do not care much about the election. Still, I am a Balen fan. I have always been self-reliant and expect nothing from the government beyond proper education, health and roads and better tax policies. I will perhaps return in two years or so after I have saved enough. I have realised that living abroad may not be for me. When you cry, you cry alone and resume life as normal the next day. You don’t want to spend even 10 Euros on food because you could be sending that money home or saving for your future.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260305110320_a6cac6b77055507e5753d14d2eb1f0b22ec195a0ca96798020ca349fba4bbaa0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260305110320_a6cac6b77055507e5753d14d2eb1f0b22ec195a0ca96798020ca349fba4bbaa0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali worker in Romania"></figure>  I want to save enough so I can be self-reliant when I return home, I have no desire for a big house or a car. You can earn enough in Nepal to live and eat, but not beyond. I am a single child and have to take care of my family financially. Everyone says I am like their son. My father was also a migrant worker in Malaysia. I missed building a deep connection with him since he was away when I grew up. He is now a security guard in Lalitpur. Sometimes I feel like giving up, but then I think of him and all the sacrifices he made for us. Even at his age, he is struggling, and I am just getting started. I worked in two schools in various capacities back in Nepal. The environment was very positive and respectful. Children were attached to me, and I want to start my own pre-school after I return. If I were to take a job instead in Nepal I would need to earn at least Rs50,000 to live comfortably. When I need a break in Nepal, I have my Gods, and can go to the temple to clear my mind. Here I don’t even have my God. Anonymous, Oman I came to Oman over a decade ago. As I did not have papers, it took me four years to first return home and I had to go through India as Nepal did not give labour approvals for domestic work. When my mother was ill, I risked coming home. On the way back, I paid Rs250,000 underhand to agents so I could fly out. Nepal should just allow it because people will go anyway just like Filipinos and Indonesians. Newcomers need some language training, and domestic work skills like how to iron or use washing machines. Not everyone is going through India because they don’t know any better: they are doing so because that is the only way out. I had to reluctantly pay the bribe to get out of Nepal. I have worked in this house in Oman for a decade, and things are going well. Not all households are good, so we need to have the option to change employers through placement offices here. I make 120 dinar ($320) a month, higher than what general workers earn. There are challenges especially around Ramadan. It gets easier when you stay longer with an employer because wages improve, you are more comfortable and work gets easier. Muscat is full of Nepali Didis and Bahinis like me, and we meet frequently. I have never voted in my life. I am not into politics. I am missing this election too but hope someone good will come to power. I don’t know when I will come home next. I have to think about how to survive before deciding to return. Let’s see what the new government will do.

Mixed feelings about missing the election

Last year, an audio clip of Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) vice-president Swarnim Wagle surfaced on Facebook in which the potential future finance minister appeared to be having a private conversation with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi about Nepal-India border issues.&nbsp; The clip racked up 1.5 million views. It jumped through Viber family groups without caption or context, the way political gossip always does in Nepal. By the time Wagle walked into the Cyber Bureau office in Bhotahiti to file a complaint and confirm the audio was fabricated using AI, the clip had already done what it was designed to do. This is the problem with fake AI videos — the damage is not in the content, but the damage is in the lag between the share and the correction. Some videos are partisan, but so funny that millions share it: like the one of K P Oli running away carrying a huge bell while his rival Balendra Shah chases him to possess his election symbol. Google ‘how to detect AI videos’, and there is a tidy checklist. Look for jerky motion. Count the fingers in the hand. Check if the eye blinking looks unnatural. Inspect the lighting. That advice made sense two years ago, it does not anymore.&nbsp; On TikTok, the account ‘AI Nepal’ recently posted an entirely AI-generated video of a young Nepali living abroad on a video call with his parents and sister, encouraging them to vote. The footage looked like any other family video call. No glitchy fingers. No uncanny valley. No visual tell whatsoever.&nbsp; The tech industry’s response to hyper-realistic AI generated videos has been cryptographic watermarks and metadata trails embedded in files, solutions that require software to detect and that no<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election"> voter scrolling through their feed </a>eight days before the 5 March election will ever use.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260227100240_4e043a24f845bdda3b3637e24a6382817dba935b1ac13606c1e47cc174faaf2a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260227100240_4e043a24f845bdda3b3637e24a6382817dba935b1ac13606c1e47cc174faaf2a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2250" height="4053" loading="lazy" alt="AI generated election images NT"> </figure>  RED FLAGS So, forget the checklist. The fakes now pass the eye test. What has not changed is the ecosystem around them. Here are a few things to look out for this election cycle. -Look at the source, not the spectacle.&nbsp; -Before you look at the content of a video, look at who posted it.&nbsp; -What does this account usually share?&nbsp; If a profile known for uploading grainy, shaky smartphone footage from political rallies suddenly drops a cinematic, flawlessly lit clip of a private scandal, that gap between the account’s history and the production quality is the first red flag.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260227100240_91e3ed1f22f37b92ec3986feee8f5ae24943efe8a0890b382fc32c98d005b05f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260227100240_91e3ed1f22f37b92ec3986feee8f5ae24943efe8a0890b382fc32c98d005b05f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="2226" loading="lazy" alt="AI generated election images NT"> </figure>  Is the profile tied to a verifiable person, or is it a faceless account that appeared three weeks ago and posts exclusively about one candidate?&nbsp; In Nepal’s current election cycle, AI-generated images of Nepali Congress (NC) president Gagan Thapa being chased away by crowds were traced back to exactly these kinds of disposable accounts.&nbsp; Fact Checkers confirmed the images were fabricated. But by then, the images had already been screenshotted and forwarded thousands of times. Look at the cuts. This is the tell that still works, even as the visuals get better. Despite all recent advances, the best AI video generators top out at five to ten seconds of high-fidelity footage per prompt.&nbsp; A longer AI-generated video has to be stitched together from multiple short generations, which means frequent, awkward cuts every few seconds. If you are watching a tense two-minute ‘leaked’ recording and the camera conveniently cuts every eight seconds with no logical reason for the edit, you are watching a patchwork of separately generated clips glued into a sequence.&nbsp; Evaluate at your own reaction. This is the one nobody talks about, and it is the most important. The algorithm does not care about truth, it feeds on emotional resonance.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260227100240_58d5cede080eff173f2728c5af7686879b9255c84070baeb6b93efa43b79e456.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260227100240_58d5cede080eff173f2728c5af7686879b9255c84070baeb6b93efa43b79e456" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1761" loading="lazy" alt="AI generated election images NT"> </figure>  A clip that makes your blood boil within five seconds, that perfectly validates something you already believe about a politician, that gives you exactly the outrage you were looking for, that precision is the red flag. Real events are messy and ambiguous.&nbsp; They do not arrive in 15-second packages engineered to confirm your worldview. The instinct we need before the election is the pause between seeing and sharing. That cognitive pause, the two seconds where you ask yourself why this video is making you feel exactly what it wants you to feel, is the only defence that scales against a technology that is evolving faster than any detection tool. Nepal went from masu bhat to digital masu bhat. The plate of mutton curry that once bought votes has been replaced by AI-generated dopamine hits served through the feed. In both cases, the target is a voter who reacts before thinking. &nbsp; Think you have the instincts to tell AI from reality? Test yourself. We built <a href="https://spot-the-ai-pied.vercel.app/">AI OR NOT</a>, a challenge where you listen to audio clips and watch footage and vote on what is AI-generated and what is not. <a href="https://spot-the-ai-pied.vercel.app/">Try it out online</a>. &nbsp;

Spot AI generated election videos

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

This is the 86th 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. <h2>Thinking about the country</h2> Pappu Mahara, Malaysia  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_b8bbe881acfbe3eda31f8127bfad743cb672f8777ee145be68b60176bfffda45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260223120244_b8bbe881acfbe3eda31f8127bfad743cb672f8777ee145be68b60176bfffda45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2278" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  I came to Nepal on vacation and managed to time it around election. In Malaysia where I have been working for over two years, it is all about elections. In our rooms. Online. In fact, the discussions around elections felt more heated in Malaysia than back home in the village here in Mahottari.&nbsp; Even when you find out someone is going to Nepal, Nepalis who are unable to come home ask who we are voting for and remind us to tell everyone to vote for Balen. I gave my colleagues a thumbs up and assured them: only Balen. &nbsp;That is the message we come home with. And that is the reason I pasted Balen even in my suitcase as I came home. I wanted to show the world that those of us who are working hard overseas support him.&nbsp; In the past, my family voted for another party but they failed us. Even to get jobs we qualify for we need connections. Where are the jobs? The factories? Development?&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_5fd78fb1c7aae55b75f687d7e34d362854dc0b7167ee0755766401650fa05fb2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260223120244_5fd78fb1c7aae55b75f687d7e34d362854dc0b7167ee0755766401650fa05fb2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1002" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  Unemployment is high. Costs are rising. It is not just jobs in Nepal, even to get access to good overseas jobs, we need connections now. And money. There is corruption everywhere.&nbsp; Our expectation from the new government is to think beyond only their close networks and personal gain, to think about the country. What is the point of repeating mistakes from the past if those who are going to benefit are the sisters, nieces and nephews of those in power? It is good that some of us got to come home, even one vote can make a difference.&nbsp; Each ballot can create a mountain, that is why we have come home to vote.&nbsp; <h2>Coming home to support my son</h2> Rishiram Khanal कोही छन् विदेशमा, कोही यता शहरमा, जीवन उकास्न भोग्दै कहरै कहरमा। शून्य भयो गाउँघर, मान्छे लाखापाखा हुँदा, जुनकीरीको पिल्पिल् हरायो सुनसान डहरमा। Some are abroad, some here in the city,Enduring hardship just to lift life.Villages empty as people scatter far and wide,Fireflies don't flicker anymore over barren paths. I came home to Nawalpur from Bahrain to support my son, Manish Khanal, who is running in the election as an RSP candidate. I migrated to Bahrain 15 years ago where I work as a security guard. It was for my children’s education and future. That is the story of the majority of us, a compulsion.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_6e0cce852d3b0b1c2d3004952569386674fa5d08cbaa9d77effd1af6ad735dee.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260223120244_6e0cce852d3b0b1c2d3004952569386674fa5d08cbaa9d77effd1af6ad735dee" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1778" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  It would have been better if we did not have to leave our families behind. But we migrate to secure a future for our children. Mine have done well for themselves, they are educated and disciplined. This motivated me to stay on overseas. And now my son’s achievement has further motivated me. From childhood, Manish was a hard-working student who did well throughout his school. He got into politics through Bibeksheel and has now made his way to RSP where he is contesting from Nawalpur. Everyone has their reason for joining politics. My son was drawn to it because the country was deteriorating and corruption is rife. Many youth are leaving. The Gen-Z revolution in which many young lives were lost made him even more committed to run for office. I come home every two years on vacation, but this time it was special when I arrived three days ago. I was overjoyed. Even on the plane, people recognised my son on videos. He is from an ordinary Nepali family, but is getting noticed globally. &nbsp;I had never imagined this reality is possible, such a life-changing opportunity has opened up for him at such a young age. He is the second youngest candidate running for office.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_b5a8fbc1a268445798a573e6f9e837a1ed620d494a2c06492a4a14d790a7a319.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260223120244_b5a8fbc1a268445798a573e6f9e837a1ed620d494a2c06492a4a14d790a7a319" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> <figcaption>Rishiram Khanal (left) with his son Manish Khanal.</figcaption> </figure>  I want to see him run the country. I want him to ensure that the youth can get decent jobs in Nepal itself. I am encouraged by the feedback I have received from fellow workers in Bahrain. They support me and congratulate me for raising a son with such integrity. Here in Nawalpur, the environment is positive and I am also helping campaign for my son. The support for the RSP abroad is high. People are calling up family members back home to tell them to vote for घन्टी. We have long duty hours so don’t travel around much but from what I saw, there is a lot of support for the party. No matter who is running from whichever party, I hope that the priority will be Nepal’s prosperity, they should focus on building the nation. Nepalis should not have to leave in such large numbers.&nbsp; As for my son, I wish him the very best and hope he goes far. I want him win and become Nepal's son, not just mine. I want the world to know of him as an honest, selfless Nepali who will fulfil his duties for the nation earnestly.&nbsp; <h2>If not now, then when?</h2> Narendra baral, Oman  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_f8d421d93e8668b794e606198ee5b29d8e6b1af1640c91577b6f984c93d088f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260223120244_f8d421d93e8668b794e606198ee5b29d8e6b1af1640c91577b6f984c93d088f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="606" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  Just like elections have taken over Nepal, those of us abroad are equally excited and engaged. After the GenZ movement in particular, we Nepalis abroad have become even more involved. Friends are also keen to return to Nepal to vote. The mentality that no matter who wins it won’t matter and nothing will change has now been replaced by: if not now, when? There is a growing consensus that youth need to lead the nation. In that regard, the leadership change in the Nepali Congress (NC) has encouraged overseas Nepalis because we view Gagan Thapa, with his experience and sacrifices, as the right person to lead the nation. What he did recently to change the face of the NC has rejuvenated hope. For far too long, the musical chairs among the same old people had led to a sense of disgust with the state of the politics.&nbsp; Now, with new parties and new leadership in old parties, we feel emboldened to talk and engage positively and with hope. He has already won people’s confidence by allowing new faces to contest the elections, and even those who had started feeling skeptical or discouraged with Congress are now strongly supporting the party. I first migrated to Dubai in 2006 and returned five years later to start a poultry farm and fresh house in Nepal, but it did not go very far, so I decided to remigrate to Oman in 2016. It is a pity that overseas Nepalis could not vote in this election either. We saw Bangladeshis mail their votes just recently, while Filipino colleagues do so online.&nbsp; We even submitted a petition to the embassy on this issue, and the ambassador was positive given that there are just 25,000 Nepalis in Oman. Let’s hope the next election will be different. I am glad that this issue has been addressed in recent manifestos shared by the parties. Other than allowing diaspora voting, the government should also create a platform for those of us abroad so we can channel our investment and skills back home. We are investing in Oman and would like to do the same back home and create jobs for youth. Those of us who can manage are coming to Nepal to vote. Some of us have timed our vacations that way. Others have taken a week’s leave. <h2>Every vote counts&nbsp;</h2> Prajwal Poudel, Saudi Arabia  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260224130228_0b2e9f6cbfc40a4fbd90ee93ede9bfe66dfb7011785376e6d290ce12578f69a6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260224130228_0b2e9f6cbfc40a4fbd90ee93ede9bfe66dfb7011785376e6d290ce12578f69a6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="878" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  I was not sure if I would come to Nepal from Saudi Arabia for this election. But as election came close I really wanted to come home, I thought every vote matters. It is a basic right of every Nepali citizen and this is the right time now in Nepal where things are building up for change.&nbsp; All five of us roommates are returning. We all came together to Saudi Arabia to work and are going back together to vote for RSP. Our contract was about to end a couple of weeks after the elections so my roommates decided to forfeit a few weeks of salary to come home to vote. My situation was a bit different because I had made up my mind to stay on. I can always migrate overseas, if I have to go again, I can arrange it but the GenZ movement is a once in a lifetime event and this positive environment for change might not come again. I have resigned from my job with the slogan: each vote counts. I also am hopeful that the same employer will bring me back if needed as I have built a good rapport with them and worked hard throughout my contract. I am supporting Ghanti this time but if they do not deliver I will again choose another party next time.&nbsp; For me it is about choosing the right leaders. Some of my colleagues are telling me I should not have made this decision to return. My father was telling me to remain overseas so I have not told him properly that I am coming home with no return plans. My mother knows the reality and seems excited and she brought my citizenship card to Jhapa.&nbsp; If things don’t pan out as I have planned and the same old faces win, I will again migrate. Perhaps that is why I am coming home to avoid that possibility. The stakes are high this time. <h2>I am coming home to vote</h2> Bimal Subedi, Qatar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_8c0597047c2aa87a1dc8d3c062f46071107c16a3d8331df12627db9b14ce2756.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260223120244_8c0597047c2aa87a1dc8d3c062f46071107c16a3d8331df12627db9b14ce2756" data-rendition-name="original" width="924" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  The political ups and downs in Nepal brought me to Qatar 21 years ago, but even from the diaspora, I have continued my engagement with the NC in various capacities. The democratic change of 1990, led by the NC opened Nepal to the world. &nbsp; From a country that did not even allow ordinary people to have passports, the government took steps to provide unemployed youth access to overseas jobs and the international market. This outmigration intensified after the Maoist conflict, and now there is a significant population overseas. Foreign employment has helped us send money back home, which has improved our living standards and helped us come out of poverty. Foreign employment can be beneficial if we make good use of it to maximise our skills and capabilities. I have been able to establish myself as a senior accountant in an international travel company and have also improved my family’s living standards. In the past two decades, I have come home 70 times, in fact, it is easier for me to travel to Kathmandu from Qatar than for someone from Dolpo.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120244_1f89301a33ee6ed0858d7047aeb7ad4c73289c7be58a451c6d1c98d6930d2bc2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260223120244_1f89301a33ee6ed0858d7047aeb7ad4c73289c7be58a451c6d1c98d6930d2bc2" data-rendition-name="original" width="924" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  The recent GenZ movement was a fight for equal access to education and basic services. Someone in Dolpo should have access to the same opportunities as someone in Kathmandu. But inequality transcends borders. Someone working in the same five star hotel overseas versus in Nepal sees a large salary difference. Only the one abroad can make meaningful savings. How do we create a labour market in Nepal that provides quality jobs so people can afford a decent living? The narrative being painted, especially on social media, that only the new is good is misleading. We have long advocated for change that touches the grassroots level and provides equal access to opportunities and services. The latest changes within NC leadership and the manifesto have made it evident that reform is coming, and we are coming home to show our support. Some are returning just to vote, while others have arranged their vacations during election time. This time I am coming home with the hope that the new government will ensure everyone has equal access to healthcare and education. That Nepali diaspora overseas will be provided a platform to invest in Nepal and help create world class jobs.&nbsp; I am coming to vote for a Nepal that we can all be proud of. <h2>Possibility of real change&nbsp;</h2> Sachin Thakur, Malaysia  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223120248_40a23a8aa46cc22999de1bfafe6e77a30c88253ea280473c7213d40d35d3acd5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260223120248_40a23a8aa46cc22999de1bfafe6e77a30c88253ea280473c7213d40d35d3acd5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Homecoming at election time NT"> </figure>  I am coming home for the first time after working 40 months in Malaysia. I came to vote for Balen. I went overseas looking for jobs, just like my father who had spent five years in Qatar as a construction worker and who returned prematurely from the UAE after a failed migration experience.&nbsp; Malaysia is filled with Balen supporters. We have a company canteen where ten of us met constantly to discuss politics. We talked about corruption and the need for better jobs back home. The non-RSP supporters are in the minority at our workplace and perhaps across Malaysia. I came home to vote. I was lucky to be able to time my vacation that way. I look forward to spending time with family but also have plans to get together with the boys to campaign for RSP.&nbsp; For those of us who are overseas, the expectation is that the government will negotiate better terms of employment including higher pay. And that we can eventually come home. I want to resume my business making gold jewelery.&nbsp; What Nepal needs is leaders who focus on improving the basics: education and health, and everything else would work out on its own. We are betting on Balen because he has made a difference in Kathmandu as mayor, and now it is time to think about the whole country. It is not guaranteed how much he will be able to accomplish, but there is an actual possibility for real change this time and that is what matters.&nbsp;

Homecoming at election time

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible.&nbsp; In the lap of Langtang lie misty meadows that are carpeted with alpine flowers during the monsoon. It was here that Gyalbu Tamang (pictured, right) spent his childhood accompanying his father Pasang Norbu to high pastures, to milk nak and make cheese. Norbu himself was taught to produce Emmentaler cheese by two Swiss experts in the 1950s. Switzerland and Nepal are marking the 70th anniversary of diplomatic ties this year, and the cheese plant in Kyangjin was one of the first the Swiss were involved in.&nbsp; Langtang had surplus milk, and the idea was to turn it into cheese to raise nutrition levels. “The Swiss were very hard-working, and were not used to the laid back attitude of Nepalis,” remembers Gyalbu Tamang, now 50. “The children in Langtang were scared of the tall blonde foreigners, but I got along with them.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Gyalbu remembers sleeping outdoors with his father, under the stars and gazing at Langtang Lirung luminescent in the moonlight. After the milk was boiled, he helped carry it down in 40 litre churns to Kyangjin for processing.&nbsp; The plant was handed over to the state-run Dairy Development Corporation (DDC). Norbu Lama retired, but cheese making was too ingrained in him. So he bought a dozen yaks and Gyalbu helped him sell the milk. At 18, Gyalbu joined the cheese plant, and 32 years later, he is still there – now manager. “I had learnt everything from my father, so it was easy for me,” Gyalbu recalls. “Trekking boomed in Langtang and there was high demand for cheese. It raised the income of farmers.” 2015 EARTHQUAKE&nbsp; But all that came crashing down just before noon on 25 April 2015 when the earthquake triggered an avalanche that buried Langtang &nbsp;village. More than 300 people, many of them trekkers, were killed. “My father was grazing yaks, and we found him five days later, thrown off by the avalanche. My mother was buried in the ruins of her home,” Gyalbu says. Fortunately, his wife and three children in Kyangjin were safe in their damaged house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="882" height="661" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Twenty-seven herders and 400 yaks also perished. The cheese plant was flattened. Even before the disaster, an ageing population, out-migration, and better education meant that fewer Langtangpa were interested in cheese-making. The DDC’s mismanagement also took its toll, and at Rs80 / litre, it was not feasible to herd yaks anymore. The Swiss stepped in again to help rebuild the plant on condition that the price of milk be raised. The DDC agreed to pay up to Rs110/litre depending on fat content, and that price has remained the same.&nbsp; Gyalbu Tamang was in Kathmandu this week, trying again to convince the DDC to raise the price of milk to make cheese-making a worthwhile occupation for the younger generation.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  There are only three yak ranches left and the numbers of yak, nak and dzo have shrunk. In its heyday, Langtang used to produce 5,000kg of cheese per year. Today, it is down to 800kg. The cheese is sold in Kathmandu for about Rs2,000 per kg, but the plant has no savings to upgrade its 80-year-old equipment. “We are on our own, there is not much help from the government or Langtang people overseas,” laments Gyalbu. “I do not know what the future holds, but I will keep making cheese as long as there is milk, and as long as I am able.”&nbsp;

Langtang Emmentaler

&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://election-geo-dashboard.pages.dev/" width="100%" height="700" frameborder="0"> </iframe>Made with AWECODE</div>

Nepal election live results

It took the September GenZ firestorm and public anger against non-performing actors for a 35-year-old structural engineer and rapper Balendra (Balen) Shah to oust Nepal’s four-time prime minister and former revolutionary.
The UML’s KP Oli has been trounced by 50,000 votes in his home turf, an area where he has won many elections in his 55-year political career. It is the same story across Nepal, where established politicians are being rejected by voters.
A 'Balen Wave' has swept the country, dyeing it in the RSP’s Blue party colour. But the UML and NC particularly did this to themselves.&nbsp;
An apology and a retirement after the September protests would have saved Oli some dignity, and given the rebranded UML a tiny bit of hope and perhaps a few more electoral wins.&nbsp;
Maybe he could have been remembered fondly as the funny old guy who made one last fatal political error, but now he will be defined by this defeat. Maintaining control and legitimacy in his own party will be hard too.&nbsp;
Contrary to his past combativeness and blaming nefarious foreign conspiracies, Oli gracefully conceded on Saturday, congratulating 'Balen Babu' &nbsp;and wishing him 'a successful five years'.
Balendra Shah and his RSP knew what they were doing. As of Sunday, it has won 118 and leads in 7 other constituencies, a lot of them with similarly wide margins of victory. RSP candidates have even beaten well regarded candidates like Gagan Thapa of the NC and Kulman Ghising of Ujyalo Nepal.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <video controls src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026030817030_de0fcd0c749f165992c75cbfcb94a19b086018ffcda1d151bd55e71331f4e934.mp4" alt="" width="100%" height="100%"></video>
 <figcaption>Animation: ANUP TAMU</figcaption>
</figure>

Many including this paper questioned the RSP's strategy of choosing popular candidates over competence. But the point of an election is to win it, and there was a short campaign window to put it all together and the RSP pulled it off most successfully.&nbsp;
To be sure, the party should not get too much credit. Its manifesto was broad and bland, and no different than the other older parties.&nbsp;
A big part of the RSP ballots, maybe even most of it, were people voting against the old parties rather than for it. Many seemed to feel that this was coming, and perhaps even hoped for it.
There is also a sense of lingering cynicism. Nepal has had several revolutions and many new political starts and things always seem to end up in the same corrupt hopelessness. There is every possibility that the new RSP government will also go the same way.&nbsp;
The RSP is much bigger than Balendra Shah, although it was his popularity that made this victory possible. Its victory brings with it a sense of hope as all new things do.&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://election-geo-dashboard.pages.dev/" width="100%" height="600" frameborder="0"> </iframe></div>
Not all party members who were elected are going to be as accountable or have integrity. Many of them have a chequered past, saw an opportunity in joining the RSP and took the risk.&nbsp;
What changed things were the events of September. Politicians saw firsthand that 'Power to the People' is not some abstract idea. Get too loose to it, forget that you are ruling and not serving, and you get booted out.&nbsp;
The interim Sushila Karki government deserve credit for delivering on its biggest mandate of holding the election in such a short time frame. The expectation at large was that the polls would be delayed or even scuttled.
In fact, a two-thirds RSP majority is a great opportunity to rethink the country’s political culture and institutionalise change. The point of the government in a democracy is to serve the people. Appointing non-political, competent people worked, at least in the short tenure of the interim government.&nbsp;
Adding layers of bureaucracy and committees and party politics along federal, provincial and local levels heaped resistance to the simple goal of making lives easier for the Nepali.&nbsp;
Nepal is getting a reboot, and the next few months will show whether the country is on the right track with its new generation government.

Motherhood in the Madhes

RSP’s activist DNA

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

The Girl Dad of Nepal

The diaspora and Nepal's Blue Sweep

Mixed feelings about missing the election

Spot AI generated election videos

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Homecoming at election time

Langtang Emmentaler

Nepal election live results

RSP’s activist DNA

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.