<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dfc9c7e80680e0bd51ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"/><figcaption>ALL PHOTOS: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>The historic town of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/05/03/harisiddhi-earthquake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Harisiddhi</a> is just 2km from the Ring Road, and still bears the scars of the earthquake from seven years ago. There are ruins of abandoned homes, and concrete high rises have come up where older houses collapsed.As many as 850 houses were destroyed or damaged in this town, leaving 24 residents and two visitors dead, 150 more were injured. As Harisiddhi rebuilds, it has also been transformed from a historic city with heritage buildings that defined the core area, into one that is no different from the rest of Kathmandu.The town is on the highway to Godavari, now a jumble of multi storey<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/preparing-for-future-shocks,3472" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> cement structures</a> over narrow alleyways. Here and there, we catch a glimpse of some old houses with tile roofs, empty lots where houses once stood, rubble overgrown with vegetation that still has not been cleared after seven years.Many families who lost their homes relocated to other parts of the Valley, while others still wait for assistance the government promised for rebuilding.Harisiddhi is a microcosm of the Valley’s many historic Newa towns — how the movers and shakers were the first to get compensation to rebuild, while <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Women-still-waiting-%20to-rebuild-homes-and-lives,3118" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women-led households</a>, Dalits and some ethnic groups with limited ownership or inadequate documents have not benefited from the recovery (see below).“When they decided on compensation, they forgot to consider the traditional makeup of Harisiddhi. Even today many residents here buy and sell land in the old way. Not everyone has a land title, even if they have been living here for generations,” explains Ganesh Kumar Maharjan, Chair of Ward 29. “This has delayed aid for many people.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dff9c7e80680e0bd51bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="412" height="198"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dff9c7e80680e0bd51cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rebuilding</a> <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">resilience</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> 7 years later</a>, Anil PokhrelInitially after the 2015 earthquake, the government committed to give Rs200,000 in three tranches to each family whose house was destroyed or damaged beyond repair. The amount was later increased to Rs300,000. The first installment of Rs50,000 was provided when the house owner signed an agreement with the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA), the second Rs150,000 on completion of plinth level construction, and the last after completion of the roof level.But to get the second and third tranches, a certification from the NRA engineers indicating that the house complied with seismic-resistant design and building code was mandatory. Land ownership papers were also needed, and many in Harisiddhi were deprived of their compensation despite years of scouring government offices.In Ward 29, 252 households qualified for the assistance, and only 86 had land ownership papers. Some 58 houses are still waiting for money. The story is similar in Ward 28 which is still getting enquiries from survivors.Land registration in Nepal began in 1965, but in many ancient settlements like Harisiddhi, the dense cluster of houses in a small area as well as unclear division of land among family members posed a problem in registration. The language barrier and other social factors meant that many still do not have land titles.“It is a shame that houses that were built on once-public land have got their land titles but not the original inhabitants who have been living here for generations,” says Bharat Maharjan, a researcher on Newa settlements.To be sure, the government did facilitate the registration of land for survivors after the earthquake, but the latter say the window to register was too narrow and the process unclear.“They should be able to start the process at any time. But when they define the time, it becomes difficult as not everyone may have money for the process. When people have money, the window to register may not be open,” says Rajesh Maharjan, Chair of Ward 28.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e029c7e80680e0bd51djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Sita Kapali</h5>When the earthquake struck on the day of 25 April 2015, little did Sita Kapali think she would be experiencing aftershocks even after seven years.Sita, now 65, lives with her daughter Geeta and her grandson in a two-storey house outside the core area of Harisiddhi.The family was lucky that their old family house did not fully collapse and no one was killed. But the family could not afford to tear down the damaged home and build a new one. They had hoped the Rs300,000 assistance from the government would at least help in repairs.Two years after the earthquake, the family got the ‘red book’ and the first tranche of the housing assistance after their home was assessed. But the money was not enough to demolish the house, let alone rebuild. Moreover, the family did not have land ownership papers, which delayed the process further.“They said we did not qualify for the second tranche because we did not have land ownership papers. My brother made the rounds of government offices and finally got it made last year. But when the engineers came by again, they said we could not get the remaining money, they did not say why,” says Geeta.As per the clauses for housing assistance, the second tranche is released only after the reconstruction process has started and assessed by engineers. But this family simply has no finance to do that or get a loan from anywhere.Before the pandemic, Sita worked as a house help for families, but she has not been able to work since last year after her husband died, further straining the famaily’s finances.For now, the three continue to live in the old house mending the cracks with a slurry of mud and water. Her son and daughter-in-law have been living separately in a rented room since the earthquake because there is not enough room in the house for them. Her other son is working outside Kathmandu Valley.Says Sita: “It is ok for now but what will we do if there is another earthquake?”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e049c7e80680e0bd51ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e069c7e80680e0bd51fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Babu Kaji Kapali and Hasina Kapali</h5>Babu Kaji Kapali, 70, has three brothers. In theory the four brothers had separated, but they lived in the same house. When the earthquake occurred, the three-storey house collapsed and the roof caved in.“When the government announced the assistance, we were hoping each family would get it but they said only one person from one house can get it,” says Babu Kaji. “But we were all living separately already.”He sold a plot of his land and took out loans to build a four-room house in his farmland. He hopes the ownership papers of this house and land will qualify him for the grant. “We have to live somewhere. It will help repay debts,” says Babu KajiThe land ownership of the old family house is with his elder brother who is Hasina Kapali’s father-in-law, but even they have not been able to get the money.When Hasina’s father-in-law fell sick, they needed to move him from the temporary shelter. The family pooled in whatever money they had, and took loans from the bank and community center to rebuild the house. But they have only received the first tranche of government assistance. She does not know why they have not gotten the money despite having the land ownership paper.“I have been to the government offices several times but I’ve lost hope now. Clearly they are not giving money to the poor, those with better economic conditions than ours got it already. Maybe because we are further away from the core Harisiddhi village they missed us,” says Hasina.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e099c7e80680e0bd520jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Shrawan Kumar Maharjan</h5>Shrawan Kumar Maharjan has forgotten the number of times he has visited the ward office in the last seven years. In his latest visit last week, the 40-year-old craftsman returned empty handed yet again. He was there to see if the ward could help him claim the housing assistance.After their house collapsed in 2015, Shrawan and his family lived in the temporary shelter for years, waiting for the government assistance. Two years ago, he took out a loan and sold a plot of his land to rebuild the house.“This money is not enough to build a house in Kathmandu. And yet, I keep coming to the ward office to inquire about the government compensation because I would have at least paid off the interest on my loans,” says Shrawan.Like many here, the family did not have land ownership papers, so he filed for those at the Land Revenue Office. He still has not got the document.Says Shrawan, “We have lived here for generations, but we don’t have the papers. I don’t know why they cannot give us the money. If it is only about the land titles, then there are others without it who have already got theirs. The government has forgotten about us earthquake survivors.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e0c9c7e80680e0bd521jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Dinesh Maharjan</h5>Dinesh Maharjan, 31, was in Dakshinkali with his family when the earthquake struck. Because the temple did not suffer any damage, he did not think the tremors were strong. But when he drove through the city towards Harisiddhi, he saw more and more damage. He knew then that his old mud house did not stand a chance.For the next three years, the family lived in temporary shelters moving from one place to another. “We did not have land titles or building permits, so they did not initially give us the money,” says Dinesh, repeating a familiar plight.The family decided to move to the core area and build a house there, but they did not have ownership papers for this land either. They took out loans and sold other property.“We managed to get the first tranche after proving we have been living here for generations. We had to bring four witnesses for that, it was a lot of hassle,” says Dinesh. The family received the first tranche in February 2020, and the rest of the amount only in July of last year.He has submitted his application for the land ownership papers in the Land Revenue Office but doesn’t know how far the process has gone. “We have the compensation now, but my paperwork for land title is still stuck at the Land Revenue Office,” he says. “If I don’t get the papers, we will have to go through the entire process again the next time there is an earthquake.”

Sahina Shrestha

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Falling through the cracks

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721df19c7e80680e0bd515jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>All photos: NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption></figure>Commemorating a national tragedy like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/photos-nepal-earthquake-2015,2207" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the 2015 earthquakes</a> is a time to mourn the loss of lives of fellow citizens, but also a chance to ask ourselves how to avert such humanitarian crises in future.As we mark the 7th anniversary of the earthquake for the first time after the completion of post-earthquake reconstruction, the question of saving lives and infrastructure from future disasters is even more urgent.Let us rewind the clock to 25 April, 2015. It was a Saturday, so schools and offices were closed. At mid-day, most people were outside their houses. The monsoon had not arrived, and the ground was firm.If it had not been a Saturday, hundreds of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earthquake-an-opportunity-to-rebuilt-education-system-not-just-fallen-schools,2336" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">thousands of students</a> would have been inside school buildings. If it was midnight, most of us would have been at home fast asleep.Even worse, if the 2015 earthquake had struck us in the midst of a monsoon downpour, immediate and large-scale rescue and relief work could have been almost impossible. In villages of Sindhupalchok, where nearly 3,000 people were killed, thousands of survivors could have been left in the lurch for days.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721df49c7e80680e0bd516jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="412" height="198">It was our sheer luck that the earthquake hit us on a weekend. Yet, it claimed nearly 9,000 lives and injured over 22,000 people. The quake also damaged private houses, public buildings, schools, health facilities, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">heritage sites</a>, and other critical infrastructure in as many as 32 districts, causing an estimated economic loss of $9 billion.Thousands of families rendered homeless by the earthquake spent several monsoons and winters in makeshift shelters. Children resumed their studies in temporary learning centres. It was difficult to imagine how Nepal would carry out such a massive reconstruction campaign within a tight five plus one year deadline.To be sure, the initial phase of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rebuilding-five-years-after-2015-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">post-earthquake reconstruction</a> was slow. But the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA) did a commendable job introducing frameworks, guidelines, and procedures necessary for allocating grants for reconstruction of private houses.It prepared the Post Disaster Reconstruction Framework identified priority sectors and financing needs. The NRA coordinated with multiple government agencies, development partners, private sector, and communities in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rebuilding schools</a>, health facilities, heritage sites and other public infrastructure.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721df59c7e80680e0bd517jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1250" height="834"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The NRA has set an example of planned and systematic reconstruction within a tight deadline. It was able to serve as an example despite the Covid-19 crisis that followed. Now that the NRA is dissolved, its remaining responsibility has been handed over to the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA).The creation of the NDRRMA is in itself a paradigm shift in Nepal's approach to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-disaster-resilient-nepal-is-possible/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">disaster risk management</a>: from being mostly response-centric to prioritisation of understanding risk, improved governance, financing, including preparedness for effective response, recovery and reconstruction.The NDRRMA has not only taken on the NRA's remaining task of reconstruction, but also a responsibility to increase resilience during future disasters.We as a nation seem to have short-term memory. We easily forget <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/building-back-unsafe,3674" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">how narrowly we escaped death</a> just a few years ago. A lot of things could have gone wrong on this day seven years ago. The 2015 earthquake was not as destructive as it could have been because of few favorable situations. We may not be as lucky next time.We have some urgent tasks: strict implementation of proper <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/preparing-for-future-shocks,3472" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">building codes</a>, introduction of insurance instruments for our houses and public property, training human resources for post-disaster rescue operations, establishment of effective multi-hazard early warning systems, and massive awareness campaigns about safety and preparedness.Our municipal governments have designated jurisdictions to manage disaster risks. However, building codes are being implemented only in selected urban municipalities. We need to strictly implement these codes in rural municipalities as well. Adhering to the building codes is not only necessary for receiving bank loans, but it is also important to save our lives.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721df89c7e80680e0bd518jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dfa9c7e80680e0bd519jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="750">As part of the post-earthquake reconstruction campaign, we have built over 800,000 earthquake-resilient houses. We have also built over 7,000 earthquake-safe schools, over 750 health facilities, and over 650 government buildings. Such a massive scale of construction of earthquake-safe structures has increased earthquake resilience in 32 districts affected by the 2015 earthquakes.But another mega earthquake could hit other parts of the country where most structures are not earthquake-proof and could collapse easily. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Western Nepal</a> has not been shaken by a mega earthquake in 500 years, and enough tectonic pressure has built up underneath this region. An earthquake as powerful as the 2015 quake could be far more catastrophic in this region because of the poor implementation of building codes there.A <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/lessons-still-not-learnt/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">disaster teaches us valuable lessons</a> so we can prepare for future ones. But we have also learned the wrong lesson from the 2015 earthquake. When we saw mud-mortar houses collapsing in many old settlements even as concrete structures remained intact, we drew a false conclusion that concrete houses are stronger and safer.A concrete house can withstand a huge earthquake only if it is built properly. A mud mortar house can be equally or stronger if there are adequate horizontal and vertical bands. So, when another mega earthquake hits cities like Kathmandu, we will likely see more <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">concrete houses collapsing</a>. In preparation, we are buying concrete cutter machines along with collapsed structure search and rescue equipment.Now that we have wrapped up the post-earthquake recovery and reconstruction, we need to focus our attention on building a more resilient Nepal. This is possible but only if we shake up our complacent mindset and expect another mega earthquake to hit us at any time. Even while reading this article.Anil Pokhrel is Chief Executive of National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA).

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Rebuilding resilience 7 years later

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfc2c9c7e80680e0a0b73jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Photo: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure><ul><li>Two years ago after going through a bad relationship, a 36-year-old Kathmandu-based doctor started getting suicidal thoughts. During the long months of lockdown, he would be on the rooftop and imagine jumping off to end it all. But before long he realised that he was causing self-harm, and sought help. He was diagnosed with depression, eight months into treatment he is rid of suicidal thoughts and is back to his outgoing ways.</li> <li>The bubbly young woman used to be the life of every party, but few of her friends and relatives realised what was going on inside her mind. As the pandemic hit, she started having violent thoughts about harming others and herself. The 22-year-old tried to deal with it herself, but two months ago she sought help from a mental health doctor. She was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and started treatment. Looking back, she advises others to also seek professional help in time.</li> <li>The young woman felt worthless, lacked confidence, avoided crowds and had self-inflicted cuts on her arm. Her inability to come in terms with her sexuality aggravated her sense of insecurity. When the pandemic foiled her plans, she blamed everything on herself, she felt irritated and uncertain, stopped attending virtual classes and her eating habits changed. She finally sought help for her depression and she is now under regular psychiatric counselling and medications. Grounding exercises in particular have helped her overcome self-harm and feelings of inadequacy. “I am okay now,” she says.</li></ul>As the pandemic turns lives upside down, there has also been a global <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/post-pandemic-mental-health-epidemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">outbreak of mental health disorders</a>, and Nepal has reported a rise in suicides. However, as these cases show, professional counselling and medication can save lives.Recoveries rarely make news, only suicides do.“Most of my patients who attempted suicide have gone on to lead normal lives after they get treatment, and oftentimes they look back to their mental health crisis as nothing more than a lapse of judgment,” says psychiatrist and researcher Rishav Koirala.There has been a sharp rise in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/have-suicides-increased-during-nepal-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">suicides in Nepal</a> since the Covid-19 pandemic in March 2020 and subsequent lockdowns. Nepal Police data shows that in the last 12 months, there have been 7,141 reported deaths due to suicides nationwide, up from 6,252 the year before.Do not shy away from seeking help. If you, or anyone you know, would like to speak to a trained mental health professional, please contact:TUTH Suicide Hotline: 9840021600Transcultural Psychosocial Organisation-Nepal Crisis Hotline: 1660 0102005Mental Health Helpline Nepal: 1660 0133666Centre for Mental Health and Counselling Nepal Toll-free: 16600185080, Hotline: 1145Koshish Toll-free helpline: 166001-22322 (Bagmati Province)Patan Hospital Helpline: 9813476123National Suicide Prevention helpline operated by Mental Hospital Lagankhel and TPO: 1166<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfc2e9c7e80680e0a0b74jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="475"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In a survey last year, <a href="http://www.tponepal.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Transcultural Psychosocial Organisation (TPO) Nepal</a> which works with mental health compared five years of suicide data for March-July to see if there was any change during the lockdowns in 2020 and 2021.The results are revealing: suicides have been increasing steadily at an average rate of 8.5% every year, but it spurted to 19.4% in the first four months of the lockdown. Researchers also conducted key informant interviews across Nepal, who reported witnessing an increase in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/suicide-watch/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">suicidal behaviours</a> in the community as well as health facilities.“We now have both quantitative and qualitative evidence that mental health problems have increased following the pandemic,” says TPO Nepal’s executive director Kamal Gautam. “And given that the majority of suicides are caused by psychological problems, we can say that Covid-19 has significantly contributed to its increase.”Mental health professionals have long been warning of an epidemic of psychological disorders following the Covid-19 crisis. They have reported an increase in anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), hypochondria, obsessive disorders and psychotic symptoms among the general population in the last two years.Economic collapse, job loss and slashed income due to the pandemic as well as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/in-nepal-lockdown-a-domestic-violence-spike/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">increased domestic and sexual violence</a> and added workload during the lockdowns have all acted as contributing factors. In addition, those afflicted do not have normal social interactions that used to be a safety valve during more normal times.Moreover, many patients on treatment and medication have relapsed due to the limited access to health services, counselling and psychotropic drugs during the pandemic, and in many cases because of Covid phobia.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfc319c7e80680e0a0b75jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1052" height="690"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Up to 80% of suicides have mental health disorders as an underlying cause. A significant portion of cases are also a result of impulsive behaviour.Experts agree that the official <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-suicide-rate-vastly-underestimated/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">numbers on suicides are vastly underestimated</a> due to a lack of suicide registry. Official figures are based solely on police data and post-mortems, and because of stigma associated with mental health, many families also often refrain from revealing the actual cause of death.Official records also do not take into account <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepals-migrant-workers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">suicides of Nepali migrant workers overseas</a>, mainly Malaysia and South Korea. Similarly, suicides among those in the LGBTIQ community who have lost their limited sources of livelihood during the pandemic have been largely neglected.“Reported cases alone are not conclusive, but given that we now have a year and a half long trend and data, we have seen a significant increase in mental health disorders, and can assume that pandemic has played a crucial part in the rise in the number of suicides,” adds Rishav Koirala.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/suicide" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">More than 700,000 people die by suicide</a> every year around the world, that is one in every 100 deaths -- more than HIV, malaria, breast cancer, or war and homicide. And for every suicide, there are many more who make attempts to end their lives.Nepal is among the countries with the highest suicide rates in the world and consistently ranks within the WHO’s top 10 list. The Nepal Health Research Council (NHRC)’s <a href="http://nhrc.gov.np/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Factsheet-Adults-1.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">National Mental Health Survey</a> published earlier this year found the prevalence of suicidality (current suicidal thoughts, lifetime suicidal attempt and future likelihood of suicidal thoughts) to be high at 7.2% among Nepalis.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfc339c7e80680e0a0b76jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1464" height="752"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The first of its kind survey in Nepal interviewed 15,088 participants and was carried out before <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/coping-with-anxiety-in-new-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the pandemic</a> from January 2019 to January 2020. The study revealed that 10% of Nepal’s adult population had mental health problems in their lifetime with 4.3% experiencing some disorders at present.Mood disorders and neurotic and stress-related disorders were among the most common <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/tackling-nepals-mental-health-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">psychological problems among Nepalis</a>. The prevalence of lifetime disorders was found the highest in Province 1 (13.9%), in the age group 40-49 years (13.3%) and among males (12.4%). As for current disorders, Bagmati scored the highest (5.9%) as well as those in the age group 40-49 years (6.3%) and females (5.1%).These figures correlate with Nepal’s suicide data of the past five years. Despite fewer attempts, men accounted for 57% of total suicides, against 43% of women. Among minors, however, more girls died by suicide, which experts ascribe to possible victimisation and a higher prevalence of borderline personality disorder among younger females.Suicide deaths are also disproportionately distributed across Nepal with Province 1 recording 65 deaths per 100,000 populations. Lumbini and Gandaki follow closely with 58 and 52 per 100,000 respectively. Traditionally neglected by the state and economically disadvantaged Karnali, Far West and Province 2 regions have lower suicide rates.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfc369c7e80680e0a0b77jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2287" height="1816"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>More people are dying of suicides in urban centres such as Kathmandu Valley and Ilam district, which reported 32 and 38 suicide deaths respectively per 100,000 populations last year against Rautahat’s 18 and Humla’s 6.This is in direct contrast with the global trends where 77% of suicides occur in low and middle-income countries. Unemployment and poor economic condition have long been associated with a high risk of suicides, but only up to a certain point, as proven by recent data. Japan, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">South Korea</a> and Hungary with their higher per capita GDPs have some of the highest suicide rates in the world.“Poorer nations have weaker education and health systems, which translates into delayed or even lack of diagnosis but poverty is not a sole factor for suicides,” says Kamal Gautam. “Suicide is complex and there are multiple factors at play which means a linear approach to prevention would be incomplete, it needs an integrated approach.”Addressing underlying mental health disorders is the most effective way to prevent suicides. This means increased awareness and education about psychological disorders, which in turn can help <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/all-in-the-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reduce societal stigma</a>. An introduction to and discussion on mental health in the school curriculum can further sensitise the public.In addition to medication and counselling, societal structure and family dynamics is an important support system for individuals suffering from psychosis, trauma and depression. Telemedicine in particular has been essential in preventing self-harm during the pandemic-induced restrictions but mental health services need to be scaled up across the country.On the other hand, a strict regulation must be implemented on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/suicide-by-pesticide-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">availability of pesticides</a>, an easy means of suicide for many. Access to alcoholic products must also be supervised with Nepalis known to self-medicate to cope with stress and trauma, in turn increasing the risk of self-harm and suicide.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfc399c7e80680e0a0b78jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But most of all, analysing suicide attempts can be a powerful tool for prevention. On average, there are six attempts behind every suicide. Up to 80% of people with suicidal ideation reveal their intention to either a family member, friends or their doctors within a month before their attempt.“We forget that even before the pandemic suicide rates were very high in Nepal and while the pandemic might have added to the problem, the figures alone don’t mean anything if we fail to also study suicide attempts to find a stronger link between the prevalence and the contributing factors,” says Rabi Shakya, psychiatrist and director of Patan Academy of Health Sciences.He adds: “Historically, there have been more suicides after than during the crisis due to the long-term socioeconomic impacts. So we must start preparing for the pandemic of mental health problems including suicides post-Covid. Our health care workers must be trained and fanned out across the country.”Nepalis are not new to mental health problems induced by a crisis. The 10-year-long Maoist insurgency killed 17,000 people but many more continue to suffer from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-mental-scars-of-violence/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">PTSD, depression, anxiety and distress</a>. A 2017 report published in the journal Lancet found as high as <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stigma-and-silence-mental-health-nepal,3486" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">37.5% of the general public</a> had some form of psychological disorder.The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/its-all-in-the-mind/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">2015 earthquake</a> further added to Nepal’s epidemic of mental disorders. Survivors who had narrow escapes or lost family members reported increased panic attacks, anxiety and trauma.But <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/the-republic-of-insomnia,3311" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">conflicts, disasters</a> and pandemics have shined a light on mental health with an increased national and foreign investment in prevention and management. With larger chunks of the population impacted, there is now more acceptance and the field is starting to get the priority it warrants.Says Rishav Koirala, WHO focal person for mental health post-2015 earthquake: “The best way to prevent suicides is to address underlying psychological disorders and crises, despite adding to the burden has helped normalise them because many more people can now relate and understand that they are treatable.”

Sonia Awale

Nepal sees spike in suicides during pandemic

<figure><img width="1780" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111136/636b83769c7e80680e067738jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Tundikhel in 1921. Photo: Madan Puraskar Pustakalaya archive.</figcaption></figure>The tragic death tolls from two recent earthquakes in the Greater Himalaya should give Kathmandu residents pause. Kashmir, 2005: more than 73,000. Sichuan, 2008: over 88,000.In urban earthquake emergencies, few things are more critical than open space, but Kathmandu Valley has more people and less usable open space than ever before.A 2020 International Organisation for Migration (IOM) report warns that many of Kathmandu's crucial disaster evacuation spaces have been ‘reduced, encroached, transformed into non-usable areas or heavily built up’, and says the Valley will suffer ‘extreme difficulties’ in the next big earthquake.‘Open spaces have not been recognised as vital city infrastructures that can be of great significance during a disaster," the IOM report says. History has actually shown the importance of Kathmandu's open space time and again. <figure><img width="1800" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111136/636b83799c7e80680e067739jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>1934In the afternoon of 15 January 1934, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/01/12/katmandu-was-a-ruin/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a 8.1 magnitude earthquake shook Nepal and north India</a>. The British surgeon Lt-Col C H Smith described that day's devastation:‘The city itself was a dreadful sight. At least one house in five had completely collapsed and very few seemed to have escaped uninjured...every hundred yards or so the narrow streets were blocked with piles of debris twenty feet high over which we had to climb.’ Residents, he noted, fled to Kathmandu's open spaces:‘The inhabitants were behaving splendidly; there seemed to be no panic. The people were all hurrying out of the narrow streets towards the various open squares with what goods and cattles they had been able to save, and were settling down in family groups in these open spaces preparing to pass the night as best they could.’The next day Smith found people ‘all collected in the various squares and open spaces. They were quiet and orderly, sitting in family groups cooking what food they had. They had no shelter, and must have spent a very unpleasant night, as there was a heavy ground frost.’Kathmandu was lucky in one respect, Smith said. Had the earthquake hit at night or early morning, when people are generally indoors, collapsing building would have taken many more lives.  <figure><img width="351" height="234" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111136/636b837c9c7e80680e06773ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="779" height="655" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111136/636b837d9c7e80680e06773bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Traditionally, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake/">Kathmandu residents use many types of open spaces</a>: streets, courtyards (bahal/ bahil), neighborhood squares (nani/chuka), palace squares, and open space at town periphery (khyo, buffer zone).These communal open spaces were used as living rooms and work spaces (not for motorcycle parking). The people dried grain, washed clothes, and looked after children at play. But during disasters, they turned to these spaces for safety and shelter. Open space created resilience.At the time, Kathmandu Valley had a tenth of today’s population. People had no problem finding open places to run to.The city's massive growth was decades in the future. Rani Pokhari, British journalist Perceval Landon noted in the 1920s, stood outside the city. The Ashoka Stupa loomed ‘a mile outside the city of Patan in the country’. Boudha sat ‘among the maize fields’. Budhanilkantha was a ‘long journey out’. Times have changed.In 1930, approximately 250,000 people lived in Kathmandu Valley. Today there are nearly 4,000,000 people. After almost a century of hurried, haphazard, rule-flaunting development, life-saving open spaces have been ignored and are now much harder to find.The IOM report reminds us: ‘Open spaces are taken for granted until the need arrives.’2015During the April 2015 Gorkha Earthquake, Valley residents once again turned to the city's open spaces. Thousands of families moved into large open spaces such as the Tundikhel. The parade ground also served as a debris management site. <figure><img width="457" height="270" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b83809c7e80680e06773cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Similarly, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/parks-not-parking-lots/">Narayan Chaur</a> became a temporary home for 7,000 people. Five days after the first big quake, 33 open spaces provided refuge to almost 31,000 residents of Kathmandu from 5,500 households.City planners and local activists deserve applause for Narayan Chaur. One of the 83 emergency evacuation sites identified in 2013, it was developed to be multipurpose: as a green public park, a playground for children, and as an emergency shelter in disasters. It pioneered the use of Community Level Search and Rescue (CLSAR) Boxes, containing hammers, rope, saw and many more rescue materials.Open spaces like Tundikhel and Narayan Chaur brought neighbouring families together, saving lives and reviving community bonds. Kathmandu residents also relied upon open spaces as small as highway medians. After an earthquake, all open space counts. <figure><img width="780" height="266" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b83829c7e80680e06773djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="430" height="305" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b83849c7e80680e06773ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In 2013, government planners identified 83 open spaces for evacuation and refuge during disasters. According to the 2020 IOM report, only about half of these sites are actually usable in an emergency. New small buildings, storage areas, and infrastructure expansion have eaten into important space. Ten sites have been dropped from the list as they now serve other purposes. The report highlights other problems: an almost total lack of on-site water and sanitation facilities, unsuitable terrain, scarce local participation, especially of marginalised groups; low public awareness; and insufficient routine emergency drills. Some local governments did not even realise that spaces under their jurisdiction are designated earthquake evacuation sites.  We also need to plan for multiple hazards: earthquake and floods at the same time, or even simultaneous earthquake, flood, and pandemic. Nepal ranks eleventh and thirtieth worldwide in earthquake and flood vulnerability. This multiple hazard preparedness scenario is not impossible. After the 2015 earthquake, people in Bhaktapur's shelter camps had to flee the gushing Hanumante River. We often call earthquakes ‘natural’ disasters. Doing so allows governments and others to avoid blame. But the real cause of many disasters is not nature, it is poor human planning. Kathmandu Valley residents would do well to remember how they have relied up open space in the past and will need it again in the future. The World Health Organisation recommends 9 sq m of open space per person. Kathmandu has about 0.25 sq m per person. Lalitpur has only 0.06 sq m per person, with poorer people’s access even less. So, neighbourhoods with the least open spaces have to be prioritised. Regular drills are needed everywhere so people know where to go and what to do in a crisis. Says Anil Pokhrel of the National Risk Reduction and Management Authority, “Nepal is one of the fastest urbanising countries in the world, and 2015 was an eye opener. Government had done some work, but it really showed us the meaning of open space.” He stresses the importance of gardens and parking areas, not just the 83 designated open spaces in the Valley. “We need spaces closer to home,” he adds. “We have serious threats to urban space, such as construction and encroachments, but we also have communities like Thimi that are protecting and restoring ponds and cultural heritage as open spaces for emergencies.” Pokhrel says the aftermath of the earthquake six years ago showed how crucial water and toilets are for families. He adds, "Our message to every local government is this: work disaster planning into everything you do." <figure><img width="400" height="270" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b83869c7e80680e06773fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="402" height="307" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b83879c7e80680e067740jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nilima Thapa Shrestha is an architect and urban planner focused on urban ecological planning and DRR.Tom Robertson, PhD, is an environmental historian who writes about Kathmandu and Nepali history.

Kathmandu loses its open spaces

Laxman Ranjit walks on past the Kasthamandap, one of the Valley’s oldest buildings, from which the city gets its name. There are days when he stops by it briefly. The structure that dates back to the 7th century is in scaffolding as it is being rebuilt after being destroyed on 25 April 2015 earthquake. It was here that Ranjit, his wife Nilu and five-year-old son, Aryan, found themselves during a blood donation drive when the earthquake struck. When the earth started trembling, and the wooden beams and columns of the structure started to shake, Ranjit immediately clasped Aryan to his chest and leapt out of the balcony. He saved his son’s life, but could not save his wife Nilu, whose body was pulled out of the rubble with nine other <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/The-fall-of-Kasthamandap,2234">blood donors who died</a> that day at Kasthamandap. A national level athlete, Ranjit had had the presence of mind and the agility to pick his son up and jump out as the ancient structure collapsed behind them, breaking his leg at several places during the fall. “I never thought Nilu would die,” he recalls. “As they rushed me to hospital I was in excruciating pain, but I remember thinking they must have taken her to hospital as well.” When the dust from the earthquakes had settled, Ranjit suddenly found himself a widower, a single father, left to care for his son and an ageing father. He would spend several months recuperating at the National Trauma Centre, undergoing surgery and counselling. Every time Ranjit leaves his home in Chikamuga in the past six years, he has had to walk past Kasthamandap, and this has become a constant reminder to him of that tragic day. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5cf9c7e80680e09672fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"> Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</div> Laxman is a torch bearer of the Ranjit clan, which has to perform the Majipa Lakhe ritual mask dance during the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-celebrates-yenya/">Indra Jatra festival</a> every year. Aside from that, he also leads a parallel mortal existence as a policeman and a national level weight lifting champion in the feather weight category. In <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-behind-the-divine-mask/">his guise of the Majipa Lakhe</a> he used to put on a memorable performance every year, making him the undisputed, celebrated member of the clan of masked dancers. But 25 April 2015 changed his life. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5d39c7e80680e096730jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="559" height="278"></div> The days in hospital were an awakening. He recalls how impatient he was to get out into the world again, and how he would walk around the wards, raising the spirits of other injured survivors like himself. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5d49c7e80680e096731jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1933"> </div> “There was this bahini who had injured her back. I said to her, you have a life ahead of you, look at me, I lost my wife, I have a child and I might no longer be able to do my job. It is the spirit that keeps us alive, life is not over,” he recalls. Ranjit was not going to let a broken leg strap him, and he knew he would have to don his mask and go back gyrating into the Indra Jatra throng. He missed being behind the ferocious mask, the flowing brocade frock, with the bells clanking around his waist, and dashing through the streets without restraint. He also missed his life as an athlete. Even while recovering from his injury, the next Indra Jatra saw him supporting his brothers who were upholding the responsibility of performing the mask dance. And that is when he met Amrita Maharjan, who he would eventually marry. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5d79c7e80680e096732jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="853"> Phoot curtesy of Laxman Ranjit.</div> “I had heard about what he had been through,” Maharjan tells us. “We met through a cousin. I finally saw who the lakhe really was, and he was a child.” As Amrita spent more time with the father and son, she understood that she would soon have a role to play in their lives. They had a small wedding on the side of Aryan’s Bratabandha ceremony last year. “She has filled a void in our lives,” says Ranjit. “Nilu left me because I spent too much time at work. I will try to spend more time with my family now.” Ranjit is now back to work as the red-haired masked demon at Indra Jatra. He says, “Once I wore my gear, I was the lakhe. My body found the rhythm again.” Because of his injuries, the 41-year-old finds that he can no longer compete as a weight lifter and is considering other professional options. “I could remain a policeman until I retire and wait for a pension, but that will not be enough to give my son a good education,” says Ranjit, who has turned down offers to cameo as Lakhey at national events. Ranjit is troubled by the projection of lakhe as characters in YouTube videos, which have been criticised as cultural misappropriation. “There’s nothing wrong with culture. One needs to understand the history of the land and its connection to the people first,” he says. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5db9c7e80680e096733jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="798"> Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</div> Like all boys in the Ranjit clan, someday Aryan will inherit the mask and fiery attire, which the family regards as a source of strength, but until then the father hopes to build his son’s emotional resilience. “The spirit of the lakhe is indomitable, it does not cower down to anything. The demon is actually a representation of who we are as humans,” Ranjit explains. “We fall, but we have to rise and we have to keep going. It is all about will power.”

Pratibha Tuladhar

The spirit that is fire

<figure><img width="3264" height="2448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5b89c7e80680e096727jpeg.jpg" alt="wooden frame if the new school in bihi"/><figcaption>The school in Bihi that was destroyed in the 2015 earthquake being reconstructed using traditional building methods and designs. Photos: Sonam Lama</figcaption></figure>I was born and raised in Tsum Nubri’s Chhokangparo village in Upper Gorkha, the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/life-times/In-the-Mountain,181">holy valley famous for its Kyiumolung pilgrimage</a>. From when I was in primary school, we used to look up to the mountain above us that we called Lombo.It was only after I came to the city for my higher studies, that I realised the peak above my village is also visible from Kathmandu where people call it Ganesh Himal.From Kathmandu I went on to study architecture in Germany and graduated from the School of Architecture at the Technische Universität Darmstadt in Germany, and at the Universitat Internacional de Catalunya in Spain.  I returned not just to Nepal, but to the land of my birth—drawn by a spiritual connection to the holy beyul valley where every monastery, mani wall, khanyi carries a centuries of history and culture.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YLjrnoXUN4The <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9268#.USXvvB2LA1s">Guru Rimpoche </a>is said to have visited Tsum and there is even a cave where the Mila Repa meditated in the caves of Pirenphug. Tsum is truly a beyul, a hidden valley of such tranquility and beauty that it makes mortals contemplate eternity and transcend to a higher spiritual plane.  <img width="559" height="278" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5bb9c7e80680e096728jpeg.jpg" alt="">The 120km sacred <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2489#.YH0N6-4zaUl">Kyiumolung circumambulation</a> in Nepal and Tibet of Siringi Himal is now not possible because of the difficulties in travelling to China, but pilgrims still do the partial trek on the Nepal side.Since returning, I have campaigned to preserve the culture and heritage of the Tsum and Nubri valleys, actively trying to shelve plans to build a road that I felt would destroy our traditional way of life and everything that is precious to us. Haphazard highways are causing irreversible damage to the culture, nature, and economy of Nepal’s remote valleys. Driven by greed and graft, roads are being built where one already exists, and where they destroy the region’s culture and tourism prospects. The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-road-from-nowhere-to-nowhere,549">Tsum road</a> will bulldoze chortens, mani walls and settlements because the alignment would have to follow the foot trails along the narrow valley. Our way of life, language, culture is different from other parts of Nepal. It has been passed down to us through generations by our ancestors and we are duty bound to protect them. We are just temporary custodians of this heritage. We may not be able to improve on what they left us, but we have to at least try to protect it. <figure><img width="6591" height="2592" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5bc9c7e80680e096729jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I have travelled across the world, and am convinced that Tsum Valley is unique in many respects, and not because my family is from there. As an architect, for instance, I can see that the method of construction of old houses here is suited to local conditions, uses materials such as stone, bamboo, timber and blends with the high-Himalayan environment. All this richness lay in ruins after the 25 April 2015 earthquake. I was in Kathmandu then, and immediately set off on the four-day walk to Tsum along trails that had been wiped out by huge rockfalls. I was devastated, but was determined to do what I could towards reconstruction and rehabilitation.First, I trekked across the valley to assess the damage to the houses, monasteries, trails and bridges. I talked to local builders about their traditional construction methods which had been passed down from the generation before them.I met village elders, and took their advice about seismic resistant construction methods. The challenge was to try to preserve traditional building methods and designs, while making the structures strong enough to withstand future shocks. <img width="350" height="475" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5c09c7e80680e09672ajpeg.jpg" alt="">This was not as easy as it sounded. For example, the new plans had to conform to the government’s 17 listed designs for reconstruction to be eligible for the Rs300,000 grant. None of the designs were suitable for Tsum Valley, neither in terms of material, nor of traditional space requirements. This made my job even more complicated. We concentrated on rebuilding schools and health posts first using designs that matched local architectural traditions, while being earthquake resistant.  <figure><img width="4032" height="3024" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5c39c7e80680e09672bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Delays due to the government bureaucracy was expected, and it was a given. Even after the designs for the Bihi school reconstruction was completed, for example, it took a year for approval from Kathmandu. We had adhered to every parameter laid down by the government and sourced local materials. We chiseled stones in the traditional way, used the lighter and softer ones  for walls, using longer stones for the middle of the wall sections, known as kyangur or jakkhuyuk. <img width="347" height="462" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5c79c7e80680e09672cjpeg.jpg" alt="">In other places we used overlapping stones called noljyak, and employed only experienced masons. We raised the walls 0.8m above the ground and used treated wooden bands at the plinth, sill, lintel and roof levels, trying them at the corners to wooden members called nas. We changed the gable end walls to timber to lighten the structure.The other areas where we departed from traditional design were in the roof timber trusses. Traditional flagstone and slate roofs were heavy and required thick beams and rafters to support them, which made them unstable during quakes. We also secured the truss by gabion wire to the foundation so the light corrugated metal roofing stays safe from winter snowstorms. <figure><img width="3264" height="2448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5c99c7e80680e09672djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>We also used traditional technique of seismic resistant construction with timber-only design for schools which has a wooden frame inside stone masonry envelope called nang che. In 2015, the timber frame prevented the complete collapse of a building in Shya La in Nubri even though the outer stone walls fell down.Since the classrooms also had to be acoustically sealed, in the Bihi school we filled the gap between wooden wall panels with sawdust to reduce noise, and also insulate the rooms from the cold. By using local materials we were not just preserving traditional architecture, village artisans and carpenters also got jobs, and nearly forgotten building techniques were revived.  Interns from my universities in Germany and Spain have travelled to Tsum and Nubri to see for themselves what we built, and learnt about local Nepali culture as well as the reconstruction process.Despite obstacles we have now handed over the schools and health post buildings in Bihi and Chumling to local communities. Sonam Lama is a native of Tsum Valley and an architect currently pursuing Hubert H Humphrey Fellowship at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in the United States.

Building back a beyul in Tsum

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2659c7e80680e08f90ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="720"/><figcaption>The brand new Patan School building that is nearing completion with support from the Japanese aid agency. A raft concrete foundation makes it withstand a magnitude 8 earthquake. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>It took 40 seconds for the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">25 April 2015 earthquake</a> to seriously <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earthquake-an-opportunity-to-rebuilt-education-system-not-just-fallen-schools,2336" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">damage or demolish some 50,000 classrooms</a> across central Nepal. If the earthquake had not struck on a Saturday, the death toll would have been unimaginable.More than five years after a disaster that could have had a much more catastrophic outcome, and with most of the schools now rebuilt, Nepal <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/be-prepared/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">does not seem to have learnt its lesson</a>. The Covid-19 crisis has forced schools into hibernation, schools in other parts of Nepal are not prepared, and the retrofitting of classrooms has languished.“Given the scale of the 2015 earthquake, our reconstruction process has been quite satisfactory but we are not prepared enough for future mega-quakes,” says Surya Narayan Shrestha, executive director of the National Society of Earthquake Technology (NSET) Nepal.Indeed, National Earthquake Safety Day on 15 January which commemorates the 8.3 magnitude 1934 earthquake that devastated Kathmandu, is the right time to assess our <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">preparedness for future disasters</a>.“<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/mind-the-gap/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Western Nepal hasn’t had a major earthquake</a> in a long time and a lot of stress has accumulated,” warns Shrestha. “But no part of the country will be spared, and we are not prepared for it – especially public buildings such as schools and hospitals.”Nepali Times surveyed some of the rebuilt schools in and around Kathmandu, and in general the new structures appear to be of seismic resistant design. However, because there have been no classes for nearly a year, there have been no preparedness drills.At <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/back-to-school-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tripadma High School</a> in Patan, a retrofitted block withstood the tremors in 2015, and  served as a shelter for the community for more than a month. However, an older building was heavily damaged and got a red sticker in the post-quake assessment.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2689c7e80680e08f90bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd26c9c7e80680e08f90cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024">(Left to right) Two eight room buildings inside Tripadma School in Patan built after the 2015 earthquakes to acommodate the growing number of students. A retrofitted building next to it, survived the disaster and served as a shelter for the community in its aftermath. Photos: SONIA AWALEAcross town, the Padmodaya High School in Putali Sadak would have had 1,000 students in the classrooms if the 2015 quake had struck on a regular day. The building was destroyed. A newly built, sturdier structure next to it survived and was a temporary home for many in the aftermath of the disaster.According to the Central Level Project Implementation Unit (CLPIU) under the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA), a total of 7,923 schools and 49,681 classes were damaged in the earthquakes.“After the earthquake, we conducted classes in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/keeping-the-children-in-safe-classrooms,3057" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">temporary learning centres</a> for two years. It was unbearably hot under zinc sheets during summer. The roof leaked when it rained,” recalls Principal Narayan Prasad Gautam of Padmodaya School. “Things have got better with the new building. The engineer has assured me it can stand a 9M quake.”Tripadma and Padmodaya were both rebuilt with support from CLPIU and are two of the 7,553 schools the Nepal Reconstruction Authority (NRA) targeted for rebuilding post 2015 earthquakes. Five years since the earthquake, 6,085 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">school buildings have been reconstructed</a> and another 1,468 are still under construction.“We have reconstructed some 80% of the schools and the rest will be completed by June,” says Gopal Prasad Aryal of NRA. The government entity has also been working on rebuilding 44 universities and colleges with financial support from India. “We now have strong infrastructure with water, toilets and ramps. Our hope is that it aids the quality of education.”This year’s National Earthquake Safety Day will have to also work on regular disaster preparedness drills, and reminders on earthquake safety. And as memories of the 2015 earthquake fade, many are becoming complacent with construction that flout the building code. Meanwhile, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-two-disasters-in-west-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">western half of the country</a> has little or no information about earthquake safety.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5F2eKkUmvNALike most houses rebuilt after the 2015 earthquakes, schools from Kavre to Gorkha now use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reinforced concrete structures</a>. This means safety drills will have to be adjusted, and search and rescue procedures completely revamped to take into account the new construction material.The lack of trained professionals and training in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Search-locate-%20rescue-in-collapsed-concrete-houses,3676" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">search, locate and rescue in collapsed concrete structures</a> will be wholly different than in 2015, when most of the collapsed buildings were of lighter timber, brick and mud mortar construction.In 2015, crucial hours in rescue operations were lost because of the lack of concrete cutters, and with them, lives. Some children who had already escaped swaying buildings rushed indoors to perform duck-cover-hold procedures taught at schools when the structures collapsed on them.“Despite having earthquake resistant structures we have drills at least once a month in school so that students have complete knowledge regarding earthquake safety,” says Tashi Tenzing Norgay of Nepal Green Tara Foundation which rebuilt two <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/rebuild-school-after-earthquake,3458" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">schools in Nuwakot</a> in 2014. When the earthquake hit central Nepal in 2015, those two schools were among the few still standing.After the earthquake, the foundation has built three more schools. “Infrastructure is important but so is earthquake education,” says Norgay. But the importance of drills have been forgotten in most schools, especially as schooling scenarios changed due to the Covid-19 pandemic.With schools closed for the past 10 months because of the Covid-19 pandemic, students have had no <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17851#.YAExZ-gzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">earthquake preparedness training</a>. But as schools prepare to open now, the focus will largely be on infrastructure that ensures social distancing.Local governments are working with the Health ministry and UNICEF to launch the Learning Continuity Campaign this week. The campaign engages parents, teachers and local government, providing guidance on safe reopening of schools and alternative modes of instruction like home-schooling, low-tech solutions like telephone/SMS for learning, radio programs on parenting and specific focus on marginalised children to prevent dropout, have been highlighted.The newly-built infrastructure of the schools has been a draw for some parents, thus upping the number of enrollment to community schools at a time when Covid-19 crisis has weakened economic status.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd26f9c7e80680e08f90djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Many public schools have noted a rise in admission of students from private schools.Patan School with its ghantaghar like clock tower (pictured above) stands out in the midst of the high rises, and is a model for earthquake safe school reconstruction.Funded by the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), the Rs 320 million building has a concrete foundation raft designed to withstand magnitude 8 shaking. The school has solar and rainwater harvesting backup, classes are spacious, and labs well-equipped.Upgrading in infrastructure, however, does not always guarantee an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">improved standard of instruction</a>. Patan School may have a fancy new building, but is grappling with enough teachers and students to fill the new classrooms, as well as a maintenance budget from the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/ministry-of-education-gets-an-f/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Education Ministry</a>.“There are now bigger, better school buildings but it won’t make a difference to the quality of education at this rate,” says Rajendra Dahal, editor of Shishyak monthly. “The 2015 earthquake and this pandemic could have been an opportunity to upgrade both hardware and software of our education system, but the teaching standards have instead, downgraded.”Indeed, the only thing going for most post-earthquake government schools is that they will be safer during a future earthquake. Otherwise it is the same curricula, under-motivated and under-paid teachers, lack of facilities and budgets.

Lessons not learned from 2015

<figure><img width="1607" height="1262" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2589c7e80680e08f906jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Earthquake Safety Day 2004 coverage. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #178 </figcaption></figure>Nepal’s National Earthquake Safety Day commemorates 15 January 1934, the day when a magnitude 8.3 quake epicentred in Okhaldhunga, killed at least 17,000 people. It is known as the ‘Bihar Earthquake’ because Nepal was closed to the outside world then, and the British had more information on the damage and casualties in northern India.That sunny winter afternoon, temples and homes in Kathmandu crumbled in clouds of brown dust. Geysers of water shot out of fields, as the soil was squeezed like a sponge. In the royal palace, two of King Tribhuvan’s daughters were killed. Of Kathmandu Valley’s total population of 200,000, more than eight thousand died that day. Survivors, now in their 90s, have traumatic childhood memories of death, destruction and fear.Today, Kathmandu’s population is 3 million. Buildings are densely-packed and most are multi-storey concrete structures. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19934" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu ranks #1</a> on the list of Top Ten cities in the world most vulnerable to a catastrophic earthquake. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/">Past disasters foretold</a>, Om Astha Raihttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5F2eKkUmvNAThe magnitude 7.8 and 7.3 quakes in 2015 were warnings for Nepal to be prepared. Nearly 9,000 people were killed in 14 districts in and around Kathmandu, but the casualties could have been much higher if the intensity was a little higher, and the shaking had lasted a few seconds more. And, as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">our report this week on school reconstruction</a> shows, the number of children who would have been killed had the quake not struck on Saturday at noon, is so high as to be unthinkable. That danger is not over. Seismic resistant classrooms and school retrofitting is one of the most urgent investments that Nepal can make. <figure><img width="1491" height="1182" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd25c9c7e80680e08f907jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Earthquake Safety Day 2011 coverage. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #536</figcaption></figure>The good news, as we report, is that most schools that were damaged in 2015 have been built back stronger. The attention of school administrators should now be on Covid-19 safety when classes resume, as well as upgrading the curriculum. But we also need to move beyond central Nepal that was impacted by the 2015 quakes to make classrooms safer in other parts of the country. This is most urgent in western Nepal, which Himalayan seismologists say, has not seen a mega quake for nearly 700 years, and one is long overdue.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal’s schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel <figure><img width="1535" height="1169" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd25f9c7e80680e08f908jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Earthquake Safety Day 2013 coverage. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #638</figcaption></figure> To be sure, a 8.5 magnitude earthquake epicentred in western Nepal will be a regional catastrophe, affecting the densely-populated north Indian plains, and scientists say its impact on Kathmandu could actually be worse than the 2015 disaster. The most important lesson we must learn on National Earthquake Safety Day from the 40 seconds of shaking at 11:56am on 26 April 2015 is that we have to be better prepared — strengthening existing schools, hospitals and public buildings, enforce a building code on new ones, follow zoning laws, pre-position digging equipment and supplies, conduct drills for search, rescue, and relief. This is not panic-mongering, it is a question of life or death.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/not-out-of-danger-the-big-one">Not out of danger yet</a>,  Sonia Awale <figure><img width="1830" height="1268" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2629c7e80680e08f909jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> Nepali Times editorial on Earthquake Safety Day, three months before the 2015 earthquake. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #740</figcaption></figure> Every Earthquake Safety Day over the past two decades, this newspaper has carried the same message: let’s be prepared. Ironically, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/earthquakes-dont-kill-people-weak-houses-and-bad-planning-do,1930" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">an editorial three months before the 2015 earthquake struck</a> was titled ‘Preparing to be prepared’.  The message bears repeating: the next big earthquake in Nepal is not a question of if, but when.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/mind-the-gap/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Mind the gap</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/disastrous-management-in-nepal/">Disastrous management in Nepal</a>, Sewa Bhattarai

Be prepared

<figure><img width="1634" height="912" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110915118/636bb4589c7e80680e07bb99jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>The 100's Group has been feeding 600 people every day at Khula March for the past five months from donations. Photos: Ansu Yadav Facebook</figcaption></figure><a href="https://www.facebook.com/aasharam.yadav?fref=gs&amp;__tn__=%2CdlC-R-R&amp;eid=ARDiBZgJ7ufICy3El6ctFQQg6KT-HQmKpUxNDt4dYWccv_nmH5Pj2kTglejjKS4Oi0LmvN_6qCm9KH06&amp;hc_ref=ARRuvYqnTsrFJAxkYo3BN3xcRMSTE2x06s2IPX8PFqMAfB4GFH9yPq71vRc10jQa4oU&amp;dti=834061476653097&amp;hc_location=group" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.facebook.com/aasharam.yadav?fref%3Dgs%26__tn__%3D%252CdlC-R-R%26eid%3DARDiBZgJ7ufICy3El6ctFQQg6KT-HQmKpUxNDt4dYWccv_nmH5Pj2kTglejjKS4Oi0LmvN_6qCm9KH06%26hc_ref%3DARRuvYqnTsrFJAxkYo3BN3xcRMSTE2x06s2IPX8PFqMAfB4GFH9yPq71vRc10jQa4oU%26dti%3D834061476653097%26hc_location%3Dgroup&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGhEdaWubeWqqP70fFC8JKLoCHy9Q">Ansu Yadav’s</a> food bank campaign seems almost to be inspired by Karl Marx’s famous axiom: ‘From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.’ But Yadav is no communist, he is just trying to do his bit to lend a helping hand to thousands of Nepalis who have lost their livelihoods, and have no other way to feed themselves. Just like Nepal’s youth stepped in after the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNELrzME5t4rSw0d_EJ6N6VJx0WsWA">2015 earthquake</a> to provide food and shelter to survivors of the disaster, Yadav is among young Nepalis who are trying to do what the government should be doing to help those left vulnerable by the Covid-19 economic crisis.The concept of the food bank is simple: those who have the ability deposit food and other essential items, and the neediest are free to take them. His campaign is has been feeding 600 people every day in Kathmandu Valley since April, and 1,000 plus across the country.  <figure><img width="1814" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110915118/636bb45b9c7e80680e07bb9ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The Simara Food Bank in Bara district was inspired by the 100s Group in Kathmandu that has been feeding 600 people every day for the past three months.</figcaption></figure>“Initially it was just me using some of my pocket money, but the idea spread quickly through social media and other friends and volunteers stepped in,” says Yadav who was a student at the Nepal Engineering Campus and has named his growing campaign the 100's Group.On days when the donations are not enough, Yadav has to buy what is needed to prepare meals at his home in Baneswor. His team then dons PPEs and transports it to the Khula Manch in out-of-work Safa Tempos to distribute it in paper or leaf plates to hundreds of people who are hungry because they are stranded in Kathmandu with no source of income. Five months after he started, Yadav’s feeding campaign has also expanded to Siraha and Banke districts where volunteers are carrying the work forward. This week, the 100's Group is collecting food and relief for the 30 believed killed in Sunday's landslide in Sindhupalchok.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lockdown-brings-out-the-best-in-nepalis/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lockdown-brings-out-the-best-in-nepalis/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFec5qy6bY8UVli7IE9GjwihonxjA">Lockdown brings out the best in Nepalis</a>, Alisha Sijapati<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/volunteers-to-the-rescue-in-nepals-flood-season/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/volunteers-to-the-rescue-in-nepals-flood-season/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHM9ug9j0sZ3XM2O619ea4Vk9lixw">Volunteers to the rescue in Nepali flood season</a>, Marty Logan <figure><img width="1596" height="1100" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110915118/636bb45e9c7e80680e07bb9bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The idea has also spread to Baglung and other parts of Nepal.</figcaption></figure>Catching wind of the project’s success in Kathmandu, the municiaplities of Morang district in the eastern Tarai have also replicated the campaign, and are currently feeding more than 3,000 daily wage earners. Members of the Nepali Congress-affiliated Tarun Dal in the Kebari Rural Municipality  organised their own food bank from 22 August till 1 September, and helped feed 1,400 of the most vulnerable local residents packaging 2kg of rice, 250gm of soybeans, ½ litre of cooking oil and a packet of salt that they got from donations. “We started out distributing food at the municipality, but after finding out that most locals were unaware of our relief effort, we began distributing food in every ward,” reports Pappu Shah, a local volunteer in Kerabari. In Sundar Haraincha municipality local youth set up their own food bank to help 1,000 families in more desperate need. The initiative was supported by 35 local residents who made donations in cash and kind. Each family got a package of food to last a week. “Lockdown restrictions may have eased, but our daily wage earners are still struggling to earn money. We had to continue our campaign to ensure that they had something to eat,” explained volunteer Prakash Shrestha.  <figure><img width="1292" height="824" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110915118/636bb4629c7e80680e07bb9cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The Food Bank in Birat Chok of Morang district uses items donated by local household for those who have lost their livelihoods.</figcaption></figure>Yosa Guragain, a member of a local women’s volunteer club in Itahari, believes that her community’s food bank has become a self-sustaining cycle for relief during the lockdown for some 650 local families. “Us volunteers just serve as the link between those who want to help and those who are in need,” she explained. “And the assistance is self-sustaining because it is local, and the better off are willing to help struggling families as long as the need is there.”The slogan ‘हुनेले दिएर जाऔं, नहुनेले लिएर जाऔं’ and the altruistic concept has gone viral, as it were, because young Nepalis across the country who want to help have latched on to the idea. Recently, local groups in Baglung, Bara, and Palpa have also established food banks by mobilising local donors. The Baglung Kalika Leo Club assisted 300 families for five days, and in Palpa’s Rampur Municipality youth clubs raised money and food to provide for 500 families. “Those with enough food at home helped those who did not have enough, and the local government also chipped in,” said Homanth Neupane of Rampur Municipality. Indeed, in many places local governments and elected representatives have been forced to also set up food banks after seeing the young people in their locality spring spontaneously into action.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-out-of-school-children-get-food-at-home/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-out-of-school-children-get-food-at-home/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEooeW5BDtl4p6ietSGqgMvi7NRsA">Nepal's out-of-school children get food at home</a>, Nepali Times<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/eu-unicef-support-child-nutrition-during-lockdown/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/eu-unicef-support-child-nutrition-during-lockdown/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH1LanXfizac5PzWh5cG_d7Jh-BOw">EU Unicef support child nutrition during lockdown</a>, Nepali TimesSita Dungana is vice chair of Gajuri Rural Municipality of Dhading district, and her office was one of the first to start an effective food bank initiative from the local government level. The municipality is located along the Prithvi Highway and there are hundreds of day labourers here who have had no income for the past six months. Most of the donations are from households, not from aid agencies or non-profits, and here it was the municipality, and not youth volunteers, that first took the initiative. Households with more members get more rice and food items than smaller ones, so it truly follows the concept, ‘to each according to their need’. “All of us elected representatives collectively agreed that our first priority would be to keep daily wage earners fed. Our food bank is supported by better off community members, but also by the local government,” she explained. “It makes me very happy that this spirit of helping those in need has spread.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/wanting-nothing-in-return-but-love/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/wanting-nothing-in-return-but-love/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1600146333148000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGWAom5vEjZz3Y96HLihcYN0Tfhlw">Wanting nothing in return but love</a>, Shusma Barali<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=shW-kgNZw_M&amp;feature=emb_title">Watch video</a> of sita Dhungana, vice-chair of Gajuri rural Municipality on the Prithvi Highway, which also raises donations in cash and kind from better off households, supplements it with aid from the municipality and helps feed those without daily age income.https://youtu.be/shW-kgNZw_M

Youth-led feeding campaign spreads across Nepal

https://youtu.be/27DSJhsNLYgFive years after the earthquake destroyed its central temple, the 350-year-old Rani Pokhari royal pond at the centre of Kathmandu is finally getting back its original look.The temple had been rebuilt after previous earthquakes in the Moghul stucco dome style, and was going to be converted into a concrete-lined structure. But today, the shrine, the causeway and pond perimeter gleam with russet brick.Rani Pokhari has gone through many avatars in the past centuries. The earliest, an engraving commemorating the visit to Kathmandu by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/on-queens-pond-rani-pokhari,4092">Prince Waldemar of Prussia</a> in 1845, shows the Balgopaleswar Temple having a Shikhara style spire. After it came down in an earthquake, Jang Bahadur Rana had it rebuilt with the Moghul dome architecture of north India that he admired so much.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badea9c7e80680e077fbejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="612" height="451"/><figcaption>Rani Pokhari from the German publication ‘Die Reise Seiner KöniglichenHoheit des PrinzenWaldemar von PreußennachIndien in den Jahren 1844 bis 1846’ (The journey of His Royal Highness Prince Waldemar of Prussia to India: in the years 1844 to 1846). The temple is in the original Shikhara style spire.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badec9c7e80680e077fbfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="679" height="379"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badee9c7e80680e077fc0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="628" height="386"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badf09c7e80680e077fc1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="627" height="384"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This structure came down again in the 1934 mega-quake, and Juddha Sumsher Rana had it reconstructed and whitewashed, adding a metal fence around the pond. This structure, too, was destroyed in the 2015 earthquake, and Kathmandu Mayor Bidya Sundar Shakya’s attempt to surround the pond with cafes and shops was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2016/08/24/save-rani-pokhari/">vehemently opposed</a> by the local community.Finally, the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA) is giving Rani Pokhari more or less its original look. After delays due to the lockdown, reconstruction is finally nearing completion.The pond was built in 1671 by King Pratap Malla after his consort, Queen Anantapriya was devastated by the sudden death of her son, Prince Chakrawatendra Malla. The king could not bear to see his queen so distraught, so he built Rani Pokhari to soothe her, and memorialise their lost son.It was an exquisite architectural and ecological masterpiece showcasing the meticulous craftsmanship of the Malla era. The pond was consecrated with the crystal clear waters from 51 sacred sites from all over the subcontinent.On the south side of the pond there still stands a statue of an elephant bearing King Pratap Malla and his two sons Chakrawatendra and Mahipatendra. Four smaller temples protect the central temple from the four cardinal points.Besides its beauty, the pond was also an engineering feat. It was fed by an intricate underground network of channels to keep it full throughout the year. It also served to manage the surface water around in the area during monsoon, so that runoff from as far as Asan market would empty into the pond and overflow past farmlands down to Tukucha Rivulet in the east.Because Rani Pokhari recharged ground water, it kept the water sources like hitis and wells in the surroundings flowing even in the dry season. The pond bed was lined with semi-permeable black clay (dyo cha) so it retained water but also allowed some of it to seep through. The pond thus served as a rainwater reservoir that not just replenished groundwater, but also irrigated nearby farms.“Rani Pokhari shaped the water management system around the area at that time,” says Sudarshan Tiwari, professor at the Institute of Engineering and a conservation architect.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badf19c7e80680e077fc2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="564"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badf49c7e80680e077fc3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kathmandu Valley traditionally had an urban-rural symbiosis with densely-packed towns situated on higher ground, with intensive farming in the fertile soil below. The pond is a reminder of the wisdom of Kathmandu’s rulers who understood this ecological balance, as well as its cultural significance.“Since the day of its inauguration the pond was already considered a sacred site due to the temple in the centre and because water from 51 holy places were ceremonially poured into it,” says <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/deconstructing-reconstruction/">heritage conservationist Alok Siddhi Tuladhar</a>.After it was damaged again in the 2015 earthquake, President Bidya Devi Bhandari inaugurated the reconstruction of Rani Pokhari in January 2016. The Kathmandu Metropolitan City got a budget of Rs120 million for the job, but it started to line the perimeter with cement for shops, and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2016/09/01/unesco-concerned/">used concrete to rebuild the temple</a>. After opposition, the work was stopped and handed over to the NRA.“We wanted to make sure everyone involved had a say in the reconstruction, as the NRA is just a temporary organisation, so we formed a committee consisting of people from KMC, Department of Archaeology and local experts,” explained the NRA’s Sushil Gyawali.After much debate the NRA decided to rebuild the temple in the original 1671 Shikhara style, and also revive the original hydrological elements used in the pond. This was not an easy job. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/resurrecting-rani-pokhari-right/">Experts from Bhaktapur</a> were brought in to line the pond with black clay and bricks.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636badf79c7e80680e077fc4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The biggest challenge was to revive the previous water management system. The artesian wells and underground channels that fed the pond have dried up or have been destroyed by surrounding building construction.“We will do our best to fill the pond through natural means but we will have to take extreme measures if the plan fails,” explained Gyawali.One of those “extreme measures” was to start filling the pond last week with muddy water from a nearby tube well. But this was also stopped after local opposition.“It was a mistake. Rani Pokhari is a holy site and using tubewell water diminishes its religious, cultural and ecological value,” said Tuladhar. The NRA stopped using the tubewell water, but Gyewali says that even the heavy monsoon rains will not be enough to fill the pond.Other options are to use the trial feed from the Melamchi tunnel, or rainwater harvesting from the reconstructed Darbar High School and Tri Chandra College.Another problem might be that the bed of the pond is lined with trapezoid dachhi appa bricks and the gaps between them could over time be blocked by debris and prevent seepage of water for recharging.“This will not only defeat the purpose of recharging the underground channels but it will also make the pond dirty, so money has to be spent in cleaning it,” says Sudarshan Tiwari.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/draining-the-swamp/">Despite the compromises</a> during its reconstruction, Rani Pokhari has become a symbol of what proper restoration should look like. Relentless activism and communities uniting to preserve this heritage has saved  Kathmandu’s past for its future.

Building back Rani Pokhari even better

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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