On life lessons

"Why are adults sexist?” my ten-year-old nephew, Paartha, asks in response to a scene where the parents threaten to marry off Asha Karki, if she fails her exams. I’ve been reading to him from an illustrated young adult fiction series by Anbika Giri.

In the story, Asha, like many girls in Nepal, has to juggle between household chores and schoolwork. By the time she is done at night, she is too tired to study. And in the mornings, she is always late for the school assembly because of chores. And as if the burden of household work wasn’t enough, there is constant threat from her parents to “marry her off” if she fails-- the idea of marriage, dangling like a dagger over her head the entire time.

Asha is compliant to the daily needs of her family over her own desire to study. The elders do not appear aware of her aspirations as a schoolgirl, but it is her brother who shows up, becomes an ally. The boy starts to take up responsibility for household errand and is present for his sister in times of distress, eventually helping her to win the accolades and recognition she is deserving of.

The series comes in the form of five books: Mother is Mighty, Nisha’s Life Lessons, Lakshu’s Silence, Superhero Sister and Payal Goes to School (आमाले सक्नुहुन्छ, नाक कसरी ठाडो हुन्छ, लक्षु किन बोल्दिन, मेरी दिदी र पायल पढ्न जा). The series was completed in 2021 and was first published in Nepali-- they are taught at schools in Kathmandu and elsewhere. The English edition of the novellas, translated by our friend Prawin Adhikari, hit the bookstores in June 2025.

In each of the novellas, the story pivots around a schoolgirl, either as the narrator or the protagonist. She is faced with a range of challenges-- from the yearning for a bicycle to the agony over confronting social afflictions. And in all of them, Anbika creates male allies in the roles of family members, teachers or neighbours or government representatives.

Her female characters as mothers, sisters, friends, students are resolute, self-aware, astute, and feisty. If they are cast down because of life’s circumstances, they get up, pick their bicycles and pedal again.

Anbika had started writing these books in 2017, when she and I used to be colleagues. She would disappear one weekend and would show up at work on Monday and announce she had sort of finished writing a novella. That’s right, one of the books was written in exactly three days. I recall her saying she wanted to create a series about how girls in different parts of Nepal get to school, focusing on the commute. And while the books waver slightly from the original plan, they hinge on the idea of bringing books about Nepali girls to young readers.

“I wanted to write these books for my daughter, Awani. I wanted to write books that are gender sensitive, female-led, and represent cultural diversity,” says Anbika. “Awani has never had books like that to read. Female leads do not exist in Nepali literature for children.”

Like many other children in Nepal, Awani too grew up on books by international writers. And while the beauty of that is that a wide range of context is presented to children, which helps build empathy, but they lack the local context. And that is the gap Anbika tries to fill through her books.

“I wanted to put into context some important questions. How can we change ourselves as humans? How can we have empathy, gain realisation and evolve as individuals? I wanted to write stories that carry morals,” she explains. “I wanted to introduce politics to children in the simplest way.”

Anbika’s girl characters aim at becoming prime minister, local leader, doctor and riding bikes when they grow up-- challenging the traditional portrayal of women’s desire for beauty, love, marriage and home. She introduces topics like child marriage, menstruation, casteism, bullying, property ownership, economic independence and the local governance system. And none of them are easy subjects to broach when writing for children.

“I’m a political writer and I have my own politics, and it shows in everything I write. I think of gender as my politics. And it shows in subtle ways in the children’s books I write,” says Anbika. She says she hopes for the books to also be read by parents. “I thought of creating something that both adults and children can read, comment on.”

The stories are mostly set against the rural Madhes backdrop. “Some have questioned me about the romanticisation of village life, but that kind of life also exists and needs to be seen and understood,” she says. Some scenes slide into what could be difficult to read for some children, such as the mention of maternal death. There is no sanitised version of life in these books. But there is triumph and hope.

Anbika says the details of village life and the core sentiment of the book have been earnestly transferred to the English iteration, something she had always hoped for when she had started writing the books. “Thanks to the thoughtful and sensitive translation by Prawin Adhikari, the dream has taken flight. I’m deeply grateful for the care he’s brought to every word and nuance. I chose him to translate these books because he understands the context of my stories.”

Prolific and also deeply passionate about her projects, Anbika wants to eventually write her books in English. That passion is embodied by her characters.

“My characters in Ama le Saknu huncha and Payal Padhna Janche carry books, dreams and strength on the handlebars of their simple bicycles. They are brave, determined, and ready to ride against the wind.”

Each book has been illustrated by a different artist, some depictions better than the others. The books’ covers bear dreamy images by Anamika Gautam-- the one with a schoolgirl on a bicycle, a common favourite between Paarth and me.

Paartha, was very impatient when we read the parts where the key characters went through difficulties. One of the questions he asked on repeat was why do adults treat girls unfairly, reminding me of the deep responsibility we bear towards children. 

When we had finished reading Superhero Sister, I told him: “That unfair treatment needs to change, so girls can live as boys do.”