<figure><img width="1000" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd7a9c7e80680e0a0be7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Aunohita Mojumdar on right talking to farmers in a field in the village of Haibat Khel in Parwan province in 2008. Photo: ANNE FEENSTRA</figcaption></figure>Gut-wrenching images and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/bring-us-home-says-nepali-in-kabul/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">stories</a> have flooded the media sphere over the last few days. Hundreds flocking to the airport, clinging to the undercarriage of aircraft in desperation,<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/call-to-evacuate-afghan-journalists/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> journalists in hiding</a> or seeking visas to leave, people in streets and in camps fleeing the violence that has preceded the fall of province after province to the Taliban. The rapidity with which the Taliban have been able to take control over the entire country has surprised everyone including the Taliban themselves. However, while the speed may not have been foreseen, the collapse of the government had seemed inevitable for some time, especially after the steps taken by the US in rapid succession since the Doha deal they struck with the Taliban in 2020. Ironically called the ‘Agreement for Bringing Peace to Afghanistan’, the deal ensured the unconditional withdrawal of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-rome-statute-and-the-hague/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">American troops</a>. Desperate to leave, the US administration acceded to the Taliban insistence of talks without the presence of the elected Afghan government -- thus de-legitimising the leadership that President Joe Biden is today blaming for the collapse of the government.So what of the 20 years of international support? The entire nation-building project led by the Americans, regardless of what President Joe Biden now says, was based on an American view of what a liberated Afghanistan and Afghans should look and sound like, often with little understanding of the ground reality. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-and-the-talibans-second-coming/">Nepal and the Taliban’s second coming</a>, Kanak Mani DixitUnfortunately, American military and financial power outstripped that of other nations several times over and coupled with the belief in American Exceptionalism this ensured their overweening dominance. More nuanced approaches were run rough-shod and complex perspectives that could address the complicated realities were jettisoned in favour of the black-and-white you ‘are with us or against us’ approach. While there is much to blame on the Afghan government and the leaders, it is worth looking at how the security paradigm and the political leadership were instituted. In the initial period following the 2001 invasion, the US prevented the expansion of NATO in order to keep complete control of the security sphere, and subsequently blocked all attempts at allowing even the negotiated surrender of the Taliban leadership, thus driving them underground. Over the years, international forces killed a large number of civilians, an unacceptably high rate of ‘collateral damage’ that turned a significant portion of the Afghan population against them as well as against the Afghan government they were supporting. While ‘introducing democracy’ to Afghans, the US railroaded Afghans into accepting a governance structure that concentrated all powers in the presidency -- far more extreme than any presidential style of governance in existence -- and also forced an electoral system that kept out political parties -- the building blocks of any democratic polity.  <figure><img width="1000" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd7c9c7e80680e0a0be8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Leaders of militias were rearmed and empowered despite the fact that some of them had a track record of extreme brutality and predation on the local population. In later years, groups directly under the control of the US --and outside the ambit of the local army and police forces -- were armed, often with little checks and control resulting in more for violence against civilians. Finally, in order to meet an artificial timetable of ‘Afghan owned’ security, an Afghan army was built in a hurry despite obvious evidence of its weaknesses: the lack of adequate command and control structures, and inadequate training. Reports of high rates of recidivism, and drug addiction in the ranks were ignored in pursuit of the goal of filling the numbers. Over the years the Taliban regrouped and began to expand its footprint, enabled in some measure, by local discontent, access to safe spaces across the Pakistan border and the ‘live and let live’ deals struck in many areas.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/farewell-danish/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Farewell, Danish</a>, Navesh ChitrakarIn the past several years large parts of the country have been under the control of the Taliban or only nominally under the control of the government. In many areas, deals had been brokered for a holding pattern whereby neither side would engage in operations, thus leaving the local population the space to lead relatively peaceful lives. All of this was known to the US administration as it prepared to leave. What they had not counted on perhaps was the speed with which the government would fall. A more convenient gap would have allowed them to distance themselves from the disastrous political fallout a little better, and made their efforts to gas-light an entire country appear a little more tenable.As it is, the rapidity of events has left the emperor with no clothes, its usurpation of Afghan airspace to remove its own citizens while holding Afghan civilians at bay at gunpoint is now the last lingering image.What nextThe uncertainty that has come with the Taliban taking power is fearful, and the fears very real. But the truth is that no one yet knows what kind of governance will emerge under Taliban 2.0 Will women be allowed in the public space? Will they have to adopt diktats on a dress code that will force them back into burkha? Will independent media be allowed to function? Will the Taliban seek to replicate the image of the state that they created between 1996 and 2001 when they controlled almost the entire country? Will they, as they have stated publicly, respect the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/i-may-not-be-alive-by-the-time-i-am-evacuated/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rights of women </a> ncluding their right to education? Already these rights are being caveated by talk of ‘within Islamic law’ which is open to wide interpretation. What will the Taliban attitude be towards the minorities, especially the Shi’a Hazara communities some of which were massacred when they were last in power? <figure><img width="480" height="640" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd7f9c7e80680e0a0be9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>For a section of the media, ‘the terrorists have arrived’. And while the desperate images from the airport tell an important part of the story about the arrival of the Taliban in power they do not tell it in its entirety. Most Afghans did not want the return of the Taliban, but many urban, educated Afghans used to freedoms are staying on, deliberately and consciously, willing to consider and find ways and means of navigating the new realities. They are willing to unpick the issues and tackle them to try and create the space for living their lives, and all of us should be doing that too rather than treating Afghanistan and its people as a lost nation, or the situation as ‘game over’. The Americans have abandoned Afghanistan and the Afghans. It is time we in the region abandon the American approach towards Afghanistan as a nation to be lost or won, to be inducted into the empire of allies or rejected as an ‘enemy’ country.With the fall of the Afghan government and the takeover by the Taliban, much of the strategic discourse in the national media of the neighbouring countries has been an accounting of winners and losers, a zero-sum game that tallies the increasing influence of one country and the reduction of another’s. One popular narrative suggests that the return of the Taliban will lead to an Afghanistan-China-Pakistan nexus and that India has lost out.It might be more pertinent from the viewpoint of strategic policy to look not just at the convergence of interests but also at the divergences. China would like to see stability that will allow it economic engagement with Afghanistan. It has already invested heavily in the country’s mineral wealth and has been waiting to reap it. Neither China nor Russia would like to see unrest on their borders/near borders. China’s boundary with Afghanistan borders Xinjiang, and China has been critical of the way the US has withdrawn troops rather than happy about the exit of its strategic competitor. Russia has been deeply concerned about the problem of drugs flowing from Afghanistan, and even collaborated with the US in counternarcotics measures. Iran and Pakistan will both bear the brunt of the exodus of refugees from Afghanistan and while Pakistan has provided safe sanctuary to the Taliban, allowing them to grow in strength and capability from the safe havens, the Taliban in power in Afghanistan may make it more difficult to operate against their own home-grown terror networks. <figure><img width="1000" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd819c7e80680e0a0beajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1000" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd849c7e80680e0a0bebjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Until now, regional political power has been exercised at the behest of the Americans with countries it considers to be inimical kept out of the way. That template will have broken down with the American departure, and political change in Kabul. But a regional approach based on common interests, short, medium and long-term can be found only if the countries do not look for the zero-sum approach. And, what about all of us in the region? Can we leave it to our governments? ***Afghans and Afghanistan are us“We are not Americans,” the young Afghan man told me angrily, and, I thought, patronisingly. It was 2004 in Kabul and we were in the middle of a fierce debate on independence of media and women’s rights, the two issues which have come to the fore in the aftermath of the Taliban takeover of Kabul. The young man, R, was insistent that all this talk of rights was an American imposed program, alien to the culture of Afghanistan. “Nor am I American,” I answered, emphasising that my footprint was firmly in the region. My shift to a regional paradigm changed the tone of the conversation that day, and we were able to have a discussion based on substance rather than on stereotypes. I was to find this again and again as I navigated through the complex space of a country emerging from years of isolation, one, which seemed, then, to be on the brink of a more hopeful future. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-repatriation-from-kabul-starts/">Nepali repatriation from Kabul starts</a>, Nepali Times <figure><img width="1000" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd879c7e80680e0a0becjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>To me it seemed as though the complexities of the country and the opportunities, its strengths and its problems mirrored ours, different certainly in scale and acuteness but nonetheless familiar and tractable. The problems facing Afghan women had not disappeared with the removal of the Taliban. Some areas experienced much greater freedom, and some faced more problems. The most brutal interpretation of Sharia was gone, but it still took presidential diktat to save an Afghan from execution for perceived blasphemy. Over the eight years that I lived there, I also saw a growing erosion of support for women’s rights. An Afghan woman activist was denied appointment as a minister by the parliament because her work for safe houses for women was considered immoral. Women were still being incarcerated in Pul-e-Charkhi prison outside Kabul for the crime of running away from abusive homes. They were guilty since, as possessions of the family, they were considered to have committed a theft against their family by running away. Women ran radio stations and became TV anchors. In some places they were also forced to leave the radio stations they had joined as their voices on air were considered unbecoming by their families. The space which had opened up after the removal of the Taliban was full of possibilities. It was also full of struggle. It also felt familiar, the way it did in many parts of India where many women like me had many more rights than others did. It felt familiar the way it did in the villages of Haryana where I had reported from homes where Hindu women observed deep purdah as many Afghan women continued to do. In Kabul I wore the same head covering I had worn in many villages in India on my reporting trips and received some lectures from western women journalists on how I was supposed to show the way to Afghan women by discarding it. When some of the women’s rights started being eroded under the growing clout of the ultra-conservative militia leaders they had put in power, western diplomats started to talk about cultural relativity. I found myself asserting that I came from a similar culture but that the rights to life, liberty and safety were neither relative nor negotiable. The reigning narrative of the Taliban was one of oppression of religious minorities. Except that in the popular narrative it was oppression of non-Muslim minorities - the Hindus and Sikhs. What I found in Afghanistan was different. One of the first de rigueur interviews as an Indian journalist was with the leaders of the Sikh community in Kabul’s Karte Parwan area.  <figure><img width="500" height="668" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd8a9c7e80680e0a0bedjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Sikh leader complained about the deterioration of security after the departure of the Taliban. They said their religious rights had not been impinged upon by the Taliban whose focus was on making Muslims observant of all the religious practices. I thought about that today when I heard the Indian government had decided to discriminate on religious grounds, and offered help only to the Hindus and Sikhs of Afghanistan. I thought about the outcry over independent media in Afghanistan today when I read about journalists in Srinagar being thrashed while reporting on the muharram procession.I knew about the outrage of the destruction of the Buddhas of Bamiyan. When I travelled to Bamiyan valley I also saw the areas where communities of Hazaras had been massacred around the same time, with much less international comment. I had gone to live in Afghanistan in 2003. In 2002 I had marched in the streets of Delhi and organised meetings after the state-assisted massacres of Muslims in Gujarat. I would not have been working in Afghanistan had the Taliban still been there and I could see the young Afghans I worked with and met amazed at the opportunities.They would show me their ID cards from the Taliban times, long bearded and morose, laughing at how much older they had looked then – but it also felt familiar, like the struggles of much of our region against femicide and infanticide, against horrific dowry deaths and religious discrimination, against the use of state power to brutal ends. It didn’t feel like another planet the way it seemed to do to some westerners. The truth is that long before the Americans abandoned Afghanistan, we in the region, had relinquished our claims to a shared kinship based on geography, history and culture, looking at the country as a mutation of our worst fears, and one can draw a line, perhaps not straight, but jagged, from there to what we see today. But now, perhaps, it is time. It is time we in the region not leave it to our governments, and to claim Afghanistan and Afghans as one of us.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/who-will-rescue-nepalis-from-afghanistan/"> Who will rescue Nepalis from Afghanistan?</a>Aunohita Mojumdar is a Southasian journalist. She lived and worked in Kabul for 8 years.

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<figure><img width="1914" height="1078" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd739c7e80680e0a0be5jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>TOLOnews female presenter Beheshta Arghand interviewing Taliban spokesperson Mawlawi Abdulhaq Hemad on 17 August. Photo: TOLONews</figcaption></figure>Steven Butler describes it as “mass panic.” As the Taliban seized control of Afghanistan, CPJ’s Asia program coordinator has been fielding “hundreds and hundreds” of daily pleas from journalists asking for help to flee the country.Butler, along with CPJ Asia research associate Sonali Dhawan and the organisation’s Emergencies team, are now in the process of vetting those requests.Many Afghan journalists told CPJ they are too afraid to speak on the record. To get a picture of what’s happening on the ground, I spoke to Butler and Dhawan via video about what they have learned. Their interview has been edited for length and clarity.CPJ contacted Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid for comment via messaging app but received no response. CPJ also emailed the US State Department for comment but received no response; several calls to the US military failed to connect.When did CPJ begin getting requests for help from Afghan journalists?Butler: The requests for help from journalists who wanted to leave Afghanistan because they saw the Taliban coming started early this year. It was a trickle at the time and then it started to crescendo in July and increased by early August.We are getting hundreds and hundreds of requests for help every day now. Many of them are journalists and some of them are not journalists, they are just trying to find a way out. It has completely flooded our system. We are doing the best we can. We have four people working on analysing and looking into individual cases.We value our reputation for thorough documentation on everything we do and are applying our same standard to this — we are trying to document the cases as the best we can, because we are recommending them to the US government for emergency evacuation.What can you tell us about the <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=tAXPZ997p8VyLOXlEG5WpXOYJYccbznnQXx7atpHJ0Y9PHCkdDZJCw" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3DtAXPZ997p8VyLOXlEG5WpXOYJYccbznnQXx7atpHJ0Y9PHCkdDZJCw&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828623000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGCqxZ-wUJ8YMOcX2o7uKDtOES31w">chaotic scenes</a> at the airport and what it means for journalists?Butler: As of Tuesday the area has been secured and there is a perimeter. Anytime you have a military perimeter you have a problem, because there is an outside and there is an inside, and the outside is going to be controlled by the Taliban in one way or another, so the challenge has been to figure out how to get people through an insecure situation on the streets of Kabul, how to get them checked in through this military perimeter including additional checks by the U.S. military, and then get them on to flights. We have had people that have failed to get through.Why are Afghan journalists so desperate to leave?Butler: As the Taliban have extended their control over the provinces, we have seen them close down media outfits and <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=3fUbZQcSQYFqWpL-dwGEB-4MS14XqK8R6sw7iAugpFl_CbEaiXS6YQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3D3fUbZQcSQYFqWpL-dwGEB-4MS14XqK8R6sw7iAugpFl_CbEaiXS6YQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH3U94F5cWgjTNsQM6z8fSoaio6Tg">substitute their own personnel</a>. That hasn’t always led to people being killed or put in prison necessarily, but nonetheless journalists in Afghanistan are concerned that they are going to be pushed out of their profession — at the minimum. There are a number of very prominent journalists who have been harassed or chased by the Taliban and who have gone into hiding.What specific threats against journalists are you hearing about?Dhawan: Journalists who identify as women and ethnic minorities, specifically the Hazara, are at particular risk. The Hazara are an ethnic minority group who were <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=8nGSPAHFTNAWHtl_cNVp0Wa-r7pbWq-QxXfogE0UCQrF2RSlaPPrhA" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3D8nGSPAHFTNAWHtl_cNVp0Wa-r7pbWq-QxXfogE0UCQrF2RSlaPPrhA&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHqhW6Cirn_7bswdFN_VSBwiX3r5g">subject to mass killings</a> during the Taliban regime in the late 1990s. Journalists who have critically covered the Taliban are also terrified.I spoke to a journalist who was covering the Taliban takeover of a northern province — the Taliban came to his home after his reporting and they chased him out of the home. He ran away and they fired shots behind him and he managed to escape and get to Kabul. In the days after he escaped, he continued to receive calls that said, “We will find you.” Another prominent female journalist told me she received threatening calls in recent days from the Taliban that said, “Your time is over.”One other case that I want to highlight is the <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=lWRvPuQPHAoqNEAFyEtUoE88mQd6fvQj2SodOxze7cJIZrvXGVTtwQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3DlWRvPuQPHAoqNEAFyEtUoE88mQd6fvQj2SodOxze7cJIZrvXGVTtwQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEJ6eWfIffJYNj3zyqYdhc_iL5VZA">takeover</a> of the TOLO News compound, which is arguably the most prominent news channel in Afghanistan, a 24-hour channel that has covered a wide range of events and produced very critical coverage as part of this post-2001 media boom in Afghanistan.The Taliban have interestingly taken over the compound but are still allowing journalists to broadcast, and female journalists <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=2P3ZTjVgDO-LEkXCst0KZnzUc0h--kDD3PboiZx6h-dO7MriTtIB8A" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3D2P3ZTjVgDO-LEkXCst0KZnzUc0h--kDD3PboiZx6h-dO7MriTtIB8A&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNELg6vESSGc2YbiIVZ45Td__kwZyA">actually came back</a> on the air today. But we are seeing that a number of women and ethnic minority journalists are continuing to be threatened and the Taliban are showing up at their homes. <figure><img width="2186" height="1168" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd779c7e80680e0a0be6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Taliban spokesperson Zabihullah Mujahid addresses the first press conference in Kabul on 17 August following the Taliban’s takeover of Afghanistan. Photo: VOA News</figcaption></figure>What is the Taliban presence like at TOLO News? Butler: It looks like the Taliban have stationed armed people around the outside of the compound mainly. When they entered the premises [on August 16] they took away government issued weapons from <a href="https://tolonews.com/pa/afghanistan-174313" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">TOLO</a> security but they allowed privately purchased weapons to remain.People who have watched the recent news broadcast say it is much toned down. The women are appearing with headscarves and more conservative dress. It is really unclear what is going to happen and why the Taliban have taken what seems to be a softer approach to TOLO compared to other radio or broadcast operations in the provinces.Are they trying to create a kind of appearance for the international community because TOLO is the best known? That is one possibility. Have they changed? They say they welcome press freedom and they are allowing women to operate in certain professional positions. I don’t think that people are taking what they say at face value. There is a lot of skepticism given the documented <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=Qm8S0bLLVJ7VWAdng49e6NWxgMgLeRu8YDifWhwF3EytCs8gDPhfBQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3DQm8S0bLLVJ7VWAdng49e6NWxgMgLeRu8YDifWhwF3EytCs8gDPhfBQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHgoIizaupuirfDUabrDxt4LdLRDg">history of brutality</a> by the Taliban.What specifically did the Taliban say about press freedom?Dhawan: The Taliban spokesperson, Zabihullah Mujahid, <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=GTQHMjGHuQmSkAGZG2mdL8hgbEKDt4Najm_LKtnaY6TDn_wbiLITRw" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3DGTQHMjGHuQmSkAGZG2mdL8hgbEKDt4Najm_LKtnaY6TDn_wbiLITRw&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFbY5li5mrgvjiJPdjQ-a5i3T2YNQ">conducted a press conference</a> and it really goes to show how brave Afghan journalists are because they were asking really tough questions, particularly about women in the country.He said the Taliban will allow all media outlets to continue their activities on three conditions, the first being there should be no broadcast that will contradict Islamic values, the second that they should be impartial, the third that no one should broadcast anything against the national interest. What we are seeing on the public platform is not matching the realities on the ground, because several radio stations in provinces, newspapers, and news outlets have <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=4Iz0EHIu5_DpwD3wuGtdDC-JY9cff80wRXnyIURB4EOTpk1LlP7ZbA" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3D4Iz0EHIu5_DpwD3wuGtdDC-JY9cff80wRXnyIURB4EOTpk1LlP7ZbA&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFhf6nM1WfeS3vuyfaHKJPHmVUVLQ">shut down amid fighting</a> as the Taliban took over.What is the Taliban trying to convey with these comments about press freedom?Butler: I would look on it pessimistically. Governments use this kind of double talk all over the region and all over the world to find ways to restrict what journalists do. It could well be that the Taliban have seen what other countries are doing in terms of rhetoric and are imitating it.It is a fact that democracy and press freedom are values that are universally spoken about but only rarely fully embraced. I think that we may see that pattern repeat itself in Afghanistan. Hopefully not. Hopefully they actually believe what they are saying, but we will have to see.You mentioned that female journalists are at particular risk. What else are you hearing from women?Dhawan: Most of the female journalists I have spoken to are absolutely terrified and have left their homes and gone into hiding somewhere. This is because there are several local reports of women journalists who have had their homes searched or the Taliban have showed up at their homes. And that is a particularly traumatising experience.A lot of women journalists who work in the fields of arts and culture or education are equally terrified. I know of several women journalists that work in these fields and are actively receiving threats from the Taliban. The Taliban did show up at the home of one very prominent journalist and said they would come back to her home and are looking for her.What other journalistic beats could draw the attention of the Taliban?Butler: Journalists have a history of their own work that lives on social media. I have been told that many journalists are now trying to scrub their social media profiles and deleting articles to try to hide that past. It is hard to say going forward what are going to be the sensitive issues, but journalists who were highly critical of the Taliban in the past could face a kind of reckoning.There’s a journalist I have been in touch with quite a lot. He and his wife were able to get out. But they are desperate now to get their families out. They say that the Taliban is going to go after their families because of their highly critical reporting on the Taliban in the past. I don’t know if that is going to be the case. I hope it is not. But they are convinced that their families will be killed.You described a “media boom” in Afghanistan after 2001. Can you say more about what is at risk of being lost at this moment?Dhawan: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/call-to-evacuate-afghan-journalists/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Afghan journalists</a> have done incredibly thoughtful and diligent work over the past 20 years to build a thriving press. They have braved the dangers of a military occupation, the presence of militant groups in the country and they have reported critically during these extremely dangerous times.The precipitous withdrawal of U.S. forces from Afghanistan has led to a complete collapse of the government and security forces, leaving journalists at severe risk of violence. There are simply no avenues for journalists to seek protection from authorities and they are essentially relying on their own community, their neighbours, and family members for protection at this point.As much as there is a need for journalists to get out of the country and CPJ is doing its best to do that work, journalists who want to remain in the country must be allowed to freely report on the extent of a humanitarian crisis that is about to occur.Butler: The international community totally failed to create a stable democracy, but they did succeed in creating a thriving press. There was a lot of money – US government money, USAID, private foundation money — to support and get these operations going because of course a free press is the absolute foundation of democracy. It stuck.We had a <a href="http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i=C3l9uYxO5cc-ndmCYIfcz__Str-VhI1hJJ1tFo1n3uKsDH6ZjkofdQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://support.cpj.org/site/R?i%3DC3l9uYxO5cc-ndmCYIfcz__Str-VhI1hJJ1tFo1n3uKsDH6ZjkofdQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1629510828624000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGQBEOeZRNkd6kUMGfd-GWYKvqQQQ">case</a> a couple of weeks ago of people being forced into an interview with a Taliban local commander and made to promise that they would broadcast the interview. They came back and refused to do it because it wasn’t good journalism just to broadcast one side, so they went into hiding in Kabul.They got some of the lessons of what good journalism consists of and if you look at TOLO News, all these news outlets, a lot of it is quality journalism. And, of course, the international press relied heavily on local journalists. This is really a remarkable achievement and it would be a terrible shame for it to disappear completely. It would be wonderful for some of that spirit of press freedom and quality journalism and reporting to live on even if the previous government, the collapsed government of Afghanistan, no longer exists.Is there anything else that has struck you from this past week that you’d like to share?Dhawan: I was in contact with a journalist who is being actively threatened by the Taliban. She has been messaging me every day, afraid for her life. She is sheltered in a hotel right now and I told her we are working with the U.S. government to evacuate her and will continue to provide updates about her case as soon as we receive them. She said, “I may not be alive by that time.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/afghanistan-abandoned/"> Afganisthan abandoned</a>, Aunohita MojumdarNaomi Zeveloff is Features Editor at Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ). This interview is reprinted from Inter Press Service.

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“I may not be alive by the time I am evacuated”

New and old, businessmen and former diplomats, engineers and academics — they have all been trooping to the Election Commission to register political parties ahead of the Sunday deadline.
Till press time Thursday, five new parties had been registered and 21 new parties were in the process of applying. Behind the scenes, new parties are head-hunting, well-known figures are shopping for parties to join, while older parties are splitting or uniting to form new united parties.
“It is reason for optimism that people are enthused to form new parties,” notes political analyst Indra Adhikari. But, she adds, this does not mean that despite the celebrity status they will win votes and succeed in politics.
The outlier in all this are the Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, which are still licking the wounds after being swept out of power by the GenZ protests in September. Neither are too keen on elections because of the prospect of losing badly.
Former prime minister K P Oli is the most recalcitrant, and seems to want to scuttle elections so Parliament will be reinstated. After announcing that he was stepping down, the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba has had a change of heart in Singapore and is gunning to restore Parliament.
Neither party and their leaders have shown any remorse for the 8 September massacre, or understood the outrage on the streets against their decades-long incompetence and corruption. &nbsp;
Among those registering parties are various GenZ youth groups and family members of those killed during the September protests. Notable among the new parties certified this week was Gatishil Loktantrik Party (गतिलो) backed by Buddha Air founder Birendra Basnet and led by sociologist Dinesh Prasai. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang’s Shram Sanskriti Party is also registered.
Energy and Infrastructure Minister in the interim government Kulman Ghising has backed the Ujyalo Nepal with former secretary Anup Kumar Upadhyaya as its chair. Ghising has been playing coy about his political ambitions, and is planning to resign from his cabinet post before elections.&nbsp;
Ghising had been talking to Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP about joining, but that negotiation failed. Former RSP lawmaker Sumana Shrestha was supposed to join Ghising, but pulled out following Ghising’s reluctance to resign from government.
Ghising has much public support because he is credited with ending power cuts as head of the Nepal Electricity Authority, but is now getting flak for being unwilling to give up his ministerial portfolios while still wanting to contest elections. &nbsp;
Ujyalo has hit other snags. GenZ activist Tashi Lhazom, who was considered for a Cabinet position last month but was dropped by Prime Minister Sushila Karki, has said she is not in Ujyalo despite being listed as a Central Committee member. Another member has said that he will not be a part of Ujyalo due its “a lack of political culture”.
Even though Nepalis from across backgrounds and professions are eager to participate in the country’s new political landscape, there are doubts about the structure of their parties, ideology and electoral platforms.&nbsp;
Hurriedly set up parties without a shared philosophy have less chance of political influence and longevity. For example, the RSP was formed just months before the 2022 polls to become the fourth-largest party in Parliament, has lost its momentum, and its leader is in jail.
“Parties like the RSP, which did some positive work after being elected, have still not been able to establish a clear ideological roadmap or organisational structure,” Adhikari says. &nbsp;“It is easy to form parties, the real work goes into building an institution, which is the hard part”
Meanwhile, despite expectations of increased and inclusive youth participation not just at the polling booths but also on the ballot, only a few GenZ-led parties are applying at the Election Commission. They include the Rastriya Pariwartan Party and the Rastriya GenZ Party Nepal. Most other parties are led by men in their 40s, even in their 70s.&nbsp;
Analysts note that despite hopes of young blood in politics, Nepalis are still inclined to trust those with experience, as evidenced by GenZ’s choice of Sushila Karki to succeed KP Oli as Prime Minister after the September protests.&nbsp;
“So it will be difficult for young Nepalis without prior political experience to lead parties and it will be even more difficult for them to cultivate enough public trust to get votes,” says Adhikari.&nbsp;
Then there are the old political players, who have been breaking up and making up new alliances. Resham Chaudhary quit his Nagarik Unmukti Party and registered a new one.
Last week, Puspha Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre, and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s Unified Socialists merged along with smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party (NCP). Disgruntled former UML members like Bhim Rawal have also joined the NCP. On the other hand, Janardan Sharma has fallen out with Dahal and is going his own way.&nbsp;
Even though the NC, UML and NCP show little sign that they have learnt their lesson and will be turning a new leaf, they still have the party organisation and vote banks to fall back on at election time in the runup to 5 March. &nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “At the end of the day, Nepali society remains hyper-partisan. And although the newly-formed parties and their popular candidates may give older leaders a run for their money, established parties will still benefit from their solid vote base.”

Party Time

The very first frame in The Lama’s Son starts with a vision of Shangrila and the quest of a mythical utopia in the Himalaya when the rest of the world is crumbling away. It is also the personal search of filmmaker Kesang Tseten, but what he finds there are adherents of the Bon Po faith clinging to the last remnants of a culture as it erodes away like the sandstone cliffs of Mustang. “It was while editing the documentary that the story became distilled: how does what we see in the high Himalaya relate to the notion of the Shangrila idyll that especially the West ascribed to them,” asked Tseten during a recent trip to Kathmandu from Berne where he now lives. He continued: “Often and perhaps rightly criticised as an orientalist construct, I wondered if there was any basis at all to the Shangrila notion, and I hung the film on that idea.”&nbsp; Tseten takes us to the vast vistas of Mustang and Dolpo, a landscape of his Tibetan ancestors. This is as much an intimate documentation of families on Nepal’s Himalayan rimland torn between remoteness and globalness as it is about Tseten’s own quest for rootedness.&nbsp; We start from Lubra, a 3,000m village in Mustang the 15 households of which follow the Bon faith. Lama Tsultrim is from a 900-year-old lineage of the animist faith and an exponent of the tradition that is slowly being subsumed first by Buddhism and now modernism. For Tseten, the material is familiar, and not at all exotic as it is for non-Nepalis and indeed for many urban Nepalis. Bon, founded in Tibet, predates Buddhism, but over time, the two religions have come to resemble each other.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  ‘Both believe in karma, rebirth, and that humans can become enlightened. Nature and spirits are predominant in Bon, and rituals are what keep them benign and alight,’ says Tseten, who rarely narrates in his documentaries. “This is not really a personal film as such, but it has a point of view,” Tseten said. “I decided to have a voice-over on this one and cast my presence in the film.”&nbsp; Lubra's Lama Tsultrim is called upon to perform rituals from Kagbeni and other villages, but there is no one to continue the tradition after him, which is passed from father to son. Lama Tsultrim’s son (hence the title of the film) is a sushi chef in New York and has been gone for 20 years. “The Lama is like a setting sun, his son should come back and take over his father’s responsibilities,” says a local youngster chatting with friends. “If he dies tomorrow, where do we go? We can’t just light butter lamps ourselves to the gods.” It is not only the Lama’s son who has left. The village is nearly empty, and more are planning to leave. One of them is Chimi, a teacher who will be joining her fiancé who is an Uber driver in New York. Her brother is already in Hong Kong. In Lo Manthang a local is back home for a three-month vacation after being in New York for 12 years. A shopkeeper was in Japan for several years, and has returned. “Everything has changed, our language, our tsampa, our religion. We used to work and live together, now the children live separately,” says a middle-aged woman. “There are roads now, and vehicles stop right outside our house, but what’s the point? No one stays home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  Like most of Tseten’s films, The Lama’s Son is an honest documentation of a place and people whose lifestyle, culture and heritage cling precariously to the past. In Dri village we come across local women filling their buckets with water. Tseten asks them why the village is so empty: “Where is everyone?” The women reply that they are “here, there and everywhere”. Then it is their turn to ask Tseten about where he lives and what he is doing in their village. Migration is a recurring theme in Tseten’s documentaries from We Corner People, In Search of the Riyal, or Saving Dolma. His previous film Diversity Plaza documented the lives of Nepali and Tibetan emigrants in Jackson Heights in the borough of Queens in New York.&nbsp; Diversity Plaza was shown at DOC NYC in 2023, and The Lama’s Son will be one of only two Asian films shown next week at one of the biggest documentary film festivals in the world.&nbsp; “The Lama’s Son is not loud, not attention grabbing but intimate, so I was surprised they chose a quiet film for a big, flashy event,” Tseten told us. In Lama’s Son, we also see how climate breakdown is impacting Nepal’s trans-Himalayan regions. Lama Tsultrim shows us the aftermath of a recent glacial flood that swept away houses and fields. The debris-covered farms are as hard as cement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  The nearby village of Dhey at 3,900m is a high and dry cold desert. Farmers get one crop in a year, but the springs have gone dry and there is no snow in winter. So they are relocating to New Dhey, closer to the road. We follow Kesang Tseten to Samling in Dolpo, which at 4,200m is another Bon village. Locals are preparing for the Walchu festival in which Lama Sherrab carries out elaborate rituals to appease spirits that can turn malevolent. But unlike Lama Tsultrim in Lubra, Lama Sherrab has a community of lamas to help him, including two sons, one of whom will eventually take on his role. We move on to the adjacent village of Bicher and listen in as locals talk about how despite being dirt poor, they thrive in scarcity and are resilient. “We wear sheepskin, eat stew and yak meat, and drink wine. But we are very poor, we have nothing. Look at how dirty our clothes are. We may be dirty, but we have few illnesses,” says one. But even here in Upper Dolpo, a week’s walk from the nearest road, things are changing. There are mobile phones, readymade clothes and instant noodles.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  At the Walchu ritual, Tseten watches men and women with hand-woven blankets and down jackets sing and dance after the main ceremony. He narrates: “Bon is sustained by a way of life that fosters a fine but fragile balance between nature and people, where humans come before gods. This is what lies at the heart of Shangrila if there is such a thing.” The film then takes us half-way around the world to a Bon centre in New York, but (spoiler alert) the eponymous Lama’s son never appears. He did not want to be filmed, but it makes for a more powerful portrayal of the life of emigrants forever trapped between two worlds. “Bon villages may be in danger, but the Bon has spread widely across the world,” narrates Tseten, a director who likes to call his storytelling ethnographic, and avoids coming to an apt conclusion. Lama Sherrab’s words after the Walchu ritual is a perfect segue:&nbsp; “Whether you say om mani padme hum (in Buddhism) or matri mi yu (in Bon) they are the same. When you go up, it’s the same heavenly realm. If you go down, it’s still the lord of death who awaits. There isn’t a separate heaven and hell for Buddhists and Bon, it has to be the same for both.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="7087" height="10004" loading="lazy" alt="The Lama's Son NT"> </figure>  The Lama’s Son by Kesang Tseten, 2025 Shunyata Films To be screened at DOC NYC 16 November at 2:05PM local time, Online: 17-30 November Details <a href="https://www.docnyc.net/film/the-lamas-son/">here</a>.

The periphery cannot hold

It was pure drama: the political transition in Madhes unfolded by the dawn’s early light. At around 4AM on Monday, Province Head Sumitra Subedi Bhandari quietly departed Janakpur saying she was headed to Kathmandu for health reasons.&nbsp;
Outgoing Chief Minister Jitendra Sonal, whose coalition had begun to unravel, even saw her off, asking supporters to clear the road for her motorcade.
But an hour later, instead of continuing on to the capital, Bhandari stopped in Bardibas on the East-West Highway. There, as the sun started rising over the misty plains, she administered the oath of office to Saroj Kumar Yadav of the CPN-UML, invoking Article 168(3) of the Constitution.&nbsp;
Bhandari is also a member of the CPN-UML. The provision she invoked is typically used only after coalitions fail under Article 168(2), and the timing and location of the swearing-in have since drawn scrutiny.
Bhandari was subsequently relieved of her duties, and former National Planning Commission member Surendra Labh Karna was sworn in as the new Madhes province head on Tuesday.
Sonal had formed his government barely a month ago, with the backing of 56 provincial lawmakers but it became evident he would not secure the 54 votes needed to survive a confidence motion.&nbsp;
Several lawmakers in his coalition publicly signalled they would abstain. Still, the seven-party alliance that opposed Yadav’s appointment argues that the Province Head, who is the highest constitutional rank in the provincial structure, acted prematurely and under pressure from central UML party command.&nbsp;
A coalition of seven parties, including the Nepali Congress (NC), had been urging the Province Head to invite them to form a new government under Article 168(2). At the same time, the UML, which had been holding demonstrations outside the Province Head’s office in Janakpur, was calling for the formation of a minority government under Article 168(3).
The alliance of the seven parties that included the NC and Maoist Centre took to the streets. By mid-morning, protests had escalated outside Madhes Bhawan with cadre vandalising both the Chief Minister’s office and the Province Head’s office.
This was the third government in Madhes to fall since the 2022 provincial elections, and it follows a similar pattern. The previous Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh of the Janamat Party, resigned before a scheduled confidence vote after losing the support of his own party and others including NC and LSP.&nbsp;
His resignation unfolded amid nationwide GenZ protests against corruption, demanding accountability and reform. The recurring instability points to a structural tension in Nepal’s federalism.&nbsp;
Provincial politics remain closely tied to alliances shaped in Kathmandu. The withdrawal of support by parties like the NC and Maoist Centre in provinces often reflects national-level calculations rather than provincial priorities.
As a result, the Provincial Assembly is repeatedly consumed by survival of the coalition instead of governance. Development work stalls. Budget execution slows. Public frustration grows. In a province that was at the forefront of the movement for federalism to counter what is seen as neglect, apathy and discrimination by Kathmandu, the sense that the system may not delivering on its promise is becoming increasingly pronounced.
If federalism is to be strengthened, provincial governments must be able to function with a degree of autonomy that currently exists more in principle than in practice. Otherwise, the perception that federalism is costly, unstable, and ineffective will continue to expand, providing fertile ground for anti-federal sentiment that is already gaining traction.
Earlier examples such as the NC General Secretary Bishwo Prakash Sharma in January calling for a new government in Madhes led by his party demonstrates how the central party leadership deliberately intervenes in provincial affairs. His remarks came during campaigns for bi-elections in Madhes when former CM Singh had been in office for six months only.&nbsp;
Likewise, in early June 2024, the federal coalition in Kathmandu shifted from a Maoist Centre and NC to form a new alliance between the NC &nbsp;and the UML. Within a day, coalition negotiations in Madhes changed to mirror this.
UML leaders publicly stated: “The issues at the federal and provincial levels will be resolved together.” This indicated that the realignment in Madhes followed national party decisions rather than provincial deliberation.
The events that unfolded in Madhes are a reminder that federalism in Nepal is still in transition, and that its success depends on political actors honouring the constitutional framework.

Chronic instability in the Madhes

The sixth edition of PhotoKTM will mark a decade of visual storytelling and continue its role as a vital platform for photographers and visual artists to explore the politics of photographs and their role in shaping our histories and futures.&nbsp; The month-long festival across Kathmandu Valley features 18 exhibitions, slideshows, workshops, artist talks, panel discussions, portfolio reviews, and film screenings. While Nepal Art Council will be the anchor venue, the festival will go on the road in Mangahiti and Chyasal in Patan, Nigu Pukhu in Madhyapur Thimi, Nandi Keshar Bagaincha in Naxal and Tribhuvan University. The curatorial themes of PhotoKTM 6 Global South Solidarities draws inspiration from the historic 1955 Bandung Conference in Indonesia, which marks its 70th anniversary this year.&nbsp; The festival explores the political and cultural legacy of the Third World Project, exploring the history of global resistance and solidarity, and how they have shaped contemporary processes to reclaim sovereignty of regions battered by centuries of colonialism, exploitation, and violence.&nbsp; The festival spotlights the work and curatorial voices of artists from over 40 artists based in the Global South, from Santiago to Lubumbashi and Quito to Dakar, alongside Nepali photographers and filmmakers. “We hope this year’s coming together will deepen cultural understanding among artists and cultural communities across the Third World, strengthen reciprocal transnational solidarities through the sharing of our histories, stories, struggles and hopes, and open up pathways for more south-south collaboration and exchange across geographies,” says NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati, co-founder and festival director.&nbsp; Also featured are eight Nepali artists from the 2025 photo.circle fellowship cohort, whose works explore questions, challenges, and contradictions surrounding the notions of ‘development’ and ‘progress’ in contemporary Nepal.&nbsp; The festival comes two months after the GenZ protests, at a pivotal moment when Nepal is navigating significant political transitions. Says curator Diwas Raja KC: “From anti-colonial struggles to the Bandung Conference, to the non-alignment movement and revolutionary cultural exchanges, these histories continue to shape how countries like Nepal imagine their place in the world.”&nbsp; PhotoKTM6 is supported by the Shikshya Foundation Nepal, the Embassy of Switzerland in Nepal, as well as independent non-profit organisations FreeMuse and Cultural Workers Solidarity Front. “I think it is particularly relevant that these spaces are created and maintained because it is only if people meet and continue to do this important work, in which they think collectively, they work collectively, and they hold up certain values, that they will be capable of contributing to what I would call a ‘free world’,” says yasmine eid-sabbagh, who is the invited interlocutor to this year’s festival. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Ji ta Newa Bhyaa Mawa (I don’t know Nepal Bhasa)&nbsp;</h2> Jyoti Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: JYOTI SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  Jyoti Shrestha was born to Newar parents in Kathmandu but grew up without learning the mother tongue, Nepal Bhasa. ‘My parents, with the best of intentions, taught us English and Nepali—languages of success and survival in a world that had set ours aside... A Newar without language, I felt alien in the very culture that was meant to be mine,’ writes Shrestha in her testimony. Nepal Bhasa is in UNESCO’s ‘definitely endangered’ list. Shrestha has begun to learn her language with help from her parents, and in doing so, their relationship has shifted for the better. She adds: “No census counts the intimacy of a shared memory, the tenderness of language passed between generations, or the weight of an inherited silence.” <h2>The Land Remembers Our Name&nbsp;</h2> Rejin Purja  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RENJIN PURJA</figcaption> </figure>  The Department of Mines and Geology has confirmed the presence of iron ore in Jhumlawang in East Rukum. Iron mining has not started yet but a Kathmandu-based private company is said to have won the bid at Rs40.3 million. If the project indeed takes off, most of the families will have to be evacuated. “Not only will they lose their houses, land, and forests, but their roots, culture, and autonomy are also at stake. How can this project be considered of national benefit when it forces the very people it should serve to live in fear of their future?,” Rejin Purja writes in his testimony. Economic development exploits the natural resources of native and indigenous communities. Such projects may boost GDP and corporate profits, but they rarely improve the lives of the people whose land is being extracted from. This work reflects the uncertainty felt by the local people about their village’s future. <h2>Fragmented Land and Me</h2> Sujata Khadka  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUJATA KHADKA</figcaption> </figure>  Sujata Khadka’s ancestral home in Godavari’s Jharuwarasi was destroyed in the 2015 earthquake, after which her family built a new house on a small plot of land nearby. In the decade since the earthquake, rapid land trade has turned the farmland surrounding her home into a housing development. For the past 10 years, Khadka has been watching natural and man-made events unfold on the plots from her window on the second floor of her house. The land has been witness to playing children, negotiating brokers, bulldozers, and prowling wildlife. But despite relentless hemming and hawing by buyers and sellers over the past decade, no houses have been built on the land. &nbsp;“This misshapen land feels like a stage where a cast of characters performs an ongoing act,” says Khadka. “Perhaps this land and I are spectators to this drama.” <h2>Why doesn’t home feel like home?</h2> Karma Tshering Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TSHERING GURUNG</figcaption> </figure>  Karma Tshering Gurung was born in Manang to a Manangi family, where he was raised with his siblings. But in recent times, whenever he has visited his family in Manang, he has felt a sense of unease, like the place sees him as an occasional visitor, an outsider who no longer understands the aspirations of his people. As Manang becomes a tourist spot, Gurung’s brother thinks it is a good idea to tear down their ancestral house and build a snooker house in its place. But Gurung thinks the house is their Appa’s legacy, and worth preserving. The brothers’ ideas of home have diverged. &nbsp; &nbsp;“With a camera in hand, I am trying to rediscover my relationship with this place, with my past, navigating ideas of home and belonging tied to Manang,” he says. “Maybe home for me is no longer just a place, but this search for identity, memory and connection.” <h2>Life and Struggle of Garment Workers&nbsp;</h2> Taslima Akhter (Bangladesh)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: TASLIMA AKHTER@Taslima Akhter</figcaption> </figure>  This project focuses on the millions of workers who leave their villages and move into crowded worker barracks in the cities of Bangladesh, in search of a better life. <h2>Between Us, a Thread&nbsp;</h2> Ahmed Alaqra (Ramallah)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RUBA ALFARAOUNA</figcaption> </figure>  A quiet gesture between photographers, image-makers, and those who hold memory like a fragile light. Palestinian, Arab, scattered — yet orbiting the same wound.&nbsp; <h2>Possible and Imaginary Lives&nbsp;</h2> yasmine eid-sabbagh / Rozenn Quéré  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo Courtesy: YASMINE EID-SABBAGH AND ROZENN QUÉRÉ(Photo: ) </figcaption> </figure>  An exhibition, based on family photographs and taped interviews, tells the story of four strong and feisty Palestinian-Lebanese sisters, exiled to the four corners of the globe. <h2>Martyrs, Saints &amp; Sellouts&nbsp;</h2> Siona O’Connel (South Africa)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: BENNY GOOL</figcaption> </figure>  Comprised of photographs by Benny Gool, Zubeida Vallie and Adil Bradlow, documenting apartheid South Africa, this exhibition presents a vivid narrative of violence, loss and injuries that continue to reverberate under the rhetoric of the post apartheid landscape. <h2>Humo, Semilla, Raíz</h2> Isadora Romero (Ecuador)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: ISADORA ROMERO</figcaption> </figure>  An alternate look into environmental issues through the prism of possibility, instead of catastrophic consequence is what this exhibition brings. Romero’s visual research engages with how the loss of ancestral memory and Indigenous knowledge resulting from colonisation, forced displacement, and racism is causing seeds to disappear at an alarming rate. <h2>First week schedule (selected)</h2> Friday, 14 November Bhandarkhal Garden, Patan Museum, 5:30pm -7:30pm Festival Opening + Award of Excellence Saturday, 15 November Yala Maya Kendra, Patan Dhoka 3pm-4pm Demounting Louis Agassiz – Artistic Renegotiation of Archive, Memory &amp; Place. Talk by Sasha Huber (moderated by Diwas Raja Khatri) 4:30pm-6pm Witness or Accomplice: Photography, Human Rights and the Question of Freedom. Talk by Prof. Siona O’ Connell (moderated by NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati) Sunday, 16 November Yala Maya Kendra July, Unfinished. Jaheen Faruque Amin in conversation with Sabnam Lama, 3pm- 4pm When The World is Blind – Images by Palestinians. Ahmed Alaqra in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh, 4- 6pm Manga Hiti, 7pm-8pm Slideshow – Who Does The River Belong To? Monday, 17 November Yala Maya Kendra, 3pm - 4pm Memory is an Inaccurate Place: Dialogues Across Time, Territories, and Histories. Isadora Romero in conversation with Tanvi Mishra 4:30pm-6pm Third Camera – a Film Series: Ernest Cole: Lost and Found Dir. Raoul Peck 2024 | 1h 46m | English Tuesday, 18 November Yala Maya Kendra Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 1 Paola Farran in conversation with Jessica Lim, 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 2 Chelsea Chua in conversation with Tif Ng, 4pm:30-6pm Khapinchhen, Patan A Photographer’s Fifty-Year Journey in Nepal. A Slideshow and Talk with Kevin Bubriski, 7-7:30pm PhotoKTM Bhoé, 7:30pm-9:30pm Rs1,800 (early bird), Rs2,000 (door sale) Wednesday, 19 November Yala Maya Kendra 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 3 Andrea Thal in conversation with Diwas Raja Khatri 4:30pm-6pm We must refuse silence! Samir Eskanda, Shahidul Alam, and Tabara Korka Ndiaye in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh Thursday, 20 November Nepal Art Council, 4pm- 6pm Walk-thru at NAC with Enuma Rai, Jyoti Shrestha, Karma Tshering Gurung, Manoj Bohara, Manjit Lama, Rejin Purja, Sujata Khadka, Sushila Bishwakarma More details <a href="https://photoktm.com/photoktm6-schedule/">here</a>. PHOTOKTM6 14 November-14 December Kathmandu Valley All events free and open