Walkabout with Anil: Hiti

Walkabout with Anil: Gai Jatra

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022112911110/6385d8539c7e80680e0cc75djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1336" height="806"/><figcaption>Illustration: Bhanu Bhattarai</figcaption></figure>Albert Einstein is attributed for defining insanity as repeating the same process again and again, but expecting a different result. By this logic, we human beings are stark raving bonkers. But excelling even more on Einstein’s madness scale would be us Nepalis.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-electric-transport-future-is-here/">President Bidya Devi Bhandari</a> recently recited a two-and-half hour long speech about the government’s plans and policies. In parliamentary systems, this is just a formality. But Finance Minister Yubaraj Khatiwada proceeded to deliver his <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-unveils-covid-19-budget/">budget speech</a> from the same podium that completely contradicted what she had laid out a few days previously.As usual, the budget speech is a cut-and-paste job that repeated ad nauseum a wish list that has been repeated ad nauseum before.  Wonder if the same person has been writing the speech for decades, with minor edits to suit the political masters of the day.The budget cannot just be a menu followed by ad-hoc allocations and some vague source of revenue. It needs to give the people a clear direction – especially at time when it is clearly headed to the edge of the coronavirus precipice.Traditional wisdom says that if you want to make God laugh, tell him/her/it that you have A Plan. Nepal always seems to have a plan for every situation. The only problem with these plans is that they never get implemented.Some donor-funded projects do get some work done because the agencies doling out the money are accountable to tax payers back home. But even here, Nepalis have to watch from the sidelines because the way contracts are awarded and the method with which the government, its development partners and lenders procure services, is opaque and restricted.One of the goals is ‘capacity building’. It always has been. The hidden costs of doing business in Nepal is on the rise, and unless you have an inside track nothing moves. No wonder the poor always end up paying more for almost everything.So, chocolate is going to be cheaper and electric <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-takes-3-steps-back-on-e-cars/">vehicles are going to be more expensive.</a> That is what the average person on the street has concluded about the budget. Nepal will generate 1,300MW more power this year, doubling its generation capacity.But the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-electric-shock-to-nepals-energy-future/">Finance Minister does not want to create a market for surplus power</a> by encouraging electric vehicles. Everyone gets it. A senior government official says  government drivers, administrators, and accountants will never allow us to replace diesel and petrol vehicles because they still have not figured out how to pilfer from electric vehicles. Once this problem is solved, you can be sure electric vehicles will become a normal part of our life.So we will have plenty of cheap chocolate, a lush new carpet at the presidential palace, and cabinet ministers who look really fit because they are getting a new gym. Now that foreign hospitals and treatment are not an option due to the lockdown, it makes perfect sense. Someone has also figured out that Nepal’s donors will pay for almost anything in the wish list, but a carpet and gym maybe a bit of a push. We know how to work these systems.Many thinkers and writers have taught us that the problem with the present application of capitalism is that all the profit goes into private pockets or bank accounts, but all the costs and risks are ultimately socialised. No one can tell us where and how our politicians became so good at condemning capitalism, but they do not quite seem to get the idea for the need to replace imported fossil fuels, which are paid for by precious foreign currency earned by our young migrant workers.They do not seem to get the link between the cost of imported vehicles, imported fossil fuel, declining jobs in foreign lands, numerous Indian blockades and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-lockdown-proves-air-quality-can-be-improved/">air pollution that makes all of us vulnerable to COVID-19</a> which seems to prefer to attack the respiratory system. Then there is climate change, but that was dealt with on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/build-back-greener/">World Environment D</a>ay. The budget should be the platform that establishes these linkages.COVID-19 has demonstrated that our vulnerability depends on our health and also our wealth. Many rich people do not work in the essentials services sector, have health insurance and access to the best services. The poor, who should be more concerned, demand an end to the lockdown and the need to go back to the old normal that was, all said and done, working in their favour. Change is easy to demand but very difficult to implement.The poor, who have neither health nor wealth, get sick, die and leave their families poorer than before. Breaking this vicious cycle is what the budget needed to address. It is this systemic poverty that keeps many politicians in power.The poor become the vote bank, and the poverty card is played every four to five years to get into positions of power. The budget making process forgets who and how they got into power in the first place.Anil Chitrakar is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddhartinc</a> and this is his fortnightly column ½ Full in Nepali Times.

Anil Chitrakar

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Nepal at the edge of the COVID-19 precipice

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110911110/636b7a519c7e80680e064753jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>The whole world is now using vocabulary that we assume everyone, everywhere, will understand in the same way: pandemic, lockdown, self-isolation, quarantine, flatten the curve, exponential spread, COVID-19. In a country with low adult literacy rate, really poor health infrastructure, Nepalis need to be careful with these terms and how we explain it to the public.Although the country’s economy is ruined, Nepalis themselves have so far has been relatively less affected. Once this pandemic dies out, as it will one day, we have a change to rethink development, revamp our economic development model and update the school curriculum to make it relevant, timely and useful to both the student and society at large to deal with future health scares.How soon should our young be learning about pandemics and epidemics? Nepalis have lived through an armed conflict, became a republic, written a new constitution, lived through an earthquake and Indian economic blockade – all within a generation.We have restructured the state, and now we are coping with a global pandemic. That is a lot of content for a whole set of new text books. High school history books in Nepal still do not mention the war. Now, we really have to work on how development, environment and health issues are taught in our schools so that the students grow up to be able to respond individually and collectively to future crises.Education is the key to preparedness. We also cannot end up in a situation where people know, but do nothing because students just regurgitated memorised passages in exams.  We need to create an education system that focuses on action, results and impact. This will be challenging because the facts are changing rapidly, and knowledge itself comes with an expiry date.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/pandemic-is-a-chance-to-rethink-development/">Pandemic is a chance to rethink development</a>, Ivan G SomlaiThe bigger challenge is to change people’s behaviour based on the information they receive, and the education they have had. Policemen do not need to beat people walking on the streets, they need to be able to stop them explain what a lockdown is, and the costs and benefits of compliance to society.Lockdowns are cruel, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/lockdown-fallout/">they bring societal inequities to the surface</a>. Just as the virus targets the vulnerable, the measure used to control it by enforcing a lockdown also disproportionately impact on the poor, elderly or those far from home. In a situation where people do not trust the government and black marketers are politically protected, we cannot blame a public that is skeptical of government moves.What is the use of buying insurance only to be told that it does not mention COVID-19 in the fine print? How is anyone supposed to know? For teachers and students of economics, there should be a chapter on how to deal with unprecedented global disasters like pandemics.Businesses in Europe and North America show profit, give shareholders their dividends, and then use government subsidies to buy back stock to keep share prices high. Is this the advice multilateral and bilateral agencies give us? If it is, we really need to rewrite our economics text books.The pandemic is a real teacher if we are willing to learn. How do we explain to college students why the US stock exchange rose over 6% on the day 3.3 million eligible citizens filed for unemployment benefit and the number of COVID-19 infections kept rising. How do hospitals choose which patients to treat and which ones can be left to die because there are shortages of equipment and medicines?We shall also need the best minds working on the experiences of other countries so we know what works and what does not in a federal political system like the United States. The pandemic is unfolding in real time on our tv screens and monitors, and the challenge is to stay ahead of the curve – for which communicating with the public is key.The fact that we are teaching people how to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/covid-19-revives-nepals-wash-drive/">wash their hands </a>in 2020 does not speak a whole lot about where we are and where we need to be. Nepalis have been through a lot and have paid a heavy price for not being prepared for disasters, for being poorly governed, and for over-dependency on foreign aid. Experience and education should provide us the common sense needed to take collective action. After all, common sense is not very common.Anil Chitrakar is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.siddharthinc.com/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1584429126566000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHlGpjXdetcUvuOgKB-EOTHzU-evQ">Siddharthinc</a> and writes this exclusive fortnightly column ½ Full for Nepali Times.

Common sense is uncommon in fighting COVID-19

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101152/636b78e49c7e80680e0646cdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4054" height="2703"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Globalisation is credited with raising over two billion people in the world out of poverty. The money to pay for all the fancy houses, mobile phones and traffic jams in Nepal can be traced back to Nepalis who can find work all over the world.Globalisation is double-edged and has its downsides: inequality, supply chains that ignore environmental costs, and the increased worldwide mobility that also makes people vulnerable to pandemics.Global challenges therefore require global solutions. COVID-19, the climate emergency, human trafficking cannot be addressed unless we think and act globally. Unfortunately, the costs and benefits of globalisation are not equitably distributed and hence in times of crisis, the response has been to fall back on nationalism, point fingers, or to turn our backs on the problem.With its own COVID-19 pandemic stabilising, Beijing decided to send a team and a planes full of equipment to help out Italy. There should be more of this, instead of ostracising entire continents as some countries have tried to do.The solution is complex because the virus must be stopped while minimising the impact on national and global economies. This is tricky. Any attempt to control the spread of the disease adversely affects the market, which in turn is needed to supply lifesaving drugs, test kits, masks, medical suits, and disinfectants. How do we do one and stop the other? Does the world need two independent systems?Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-economy-already-weak-takes-direct-hit/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's economy already weak, takes direct hit</a>, Sanghamitra SubbaFurther, in a globalised world our response to the same pandemic is different in different countries. What worked in China may not work in the UK. The Italian approach seems to be very different from the Trump approach. It would be good to see leaders talking to each other more so that the general public at least gets a coherent message.When businesses make profit, they give themselves dividends. But when COVID-19 plunges them in the red, governments are supposed to step up and bail them out with money from taxpayers. What percentage of the profit and the tax they pay needs to be diverted to build resilience and a response mechanism by the time the next global crisis hits?It is not enough to say, “I pay taxes and now it is someone else’s problem”. Corruption, over dependence on foreign aid and indifference always seems to come around to bite us. Being resilient means the ability to bounce back quickly to the same state as when the crisis began. What are the lessons from the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/04/25/massive-earthquake-rattles-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">earthquake</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/10/28/lose-lose/" target="_blank" rel="noopener" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/10/28/lose-lose/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1584429126565000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFCsCkxpG5BMb082beHPsdsx68-ZA">Indian Blockade</a> in 2015, and now a pandemic? Right now it does not look like we are capable of learning.In a globalised world, the media has much more leverage than global agencies. CNN declared the pandemic before the WHO. And COVID-19 seems to discriminate against certain age groups, but not between rich and poor. Global finance agencies and governments suddenly found themselves loosening their purse because the virus did not spare the rich, celebrities or head of governments and health ministers. These agencies need to do a bit of soul searching as to why diseases that kill the poor cannot be sufficiently funded.The global marketplace is where competitively produced goods and services are bought and sold. When we face a pandemic, should a country like India be allowed to ban export of life-saving drugs to Nepal?  And why is the Nepal government not going after shopkeepers who hoard and sell medical masks in the black market? How about coming down hard on those hoarding fuel?<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/covid-19-revives-nepals-wash-drive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hand washing has worked in Nepal</a> for containing typhoid and other infections long before COVID-19 came along. The epidemic may actually help make hand washing a habit.The world may be global, but we need to think local and make ourselves safe, as well as ensure the safety of those around us. The biggest lesson of COVID-19 is that individuals and nation states cannot protect only themselves, we are all in this together.Anil Chitrakar is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.siddharthinc.com/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1584429126566000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHlGpjXdetcUvuOgKB-EOTHzU-evQ">Siddharthinc</a> and writes this exclusive fortnightly column ½ Full for Nepali Times.

Global thinking and local action on coronavirus

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101136/636b74e09c7e80680e0623b9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="900" height="600"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Nepal has restructured its polity and installed local, provincial and central governments. People have been promised economic prosperity and happiness by a Communist majority government at all three tiers of government.Though there is confusion on the devolution of rights and responsibilities to local government, urban and rural municipalities have created plans for the benefit of the local populations.Many elected representatives have also gone abroad on study tours to see how other ‘municipalika’s around the world serve their people. There are examples of recognized good work: The mayors of Seoul and London have gone on to become President and Prime Minister of their respective countries. And in the US a Democratic Party candidate for president is also a mayor.Many of Nepal’s local governments have made tourism a key pillar of their economic development agenda. Tourism appears as low-hanging fruit until a deadly virus strikes, reminding us of the risks of dependence on visitors, and how having a beautiful landscape and monuments is not enough.Many municipalities are in a Catch 22 situation because the things that they must do are not popular with their voters. How can an elected official start taxing the informal economy, fraudulent businesses and net tax evaders when these very people are his/her voters or party funders? This is the dark flip side of the democratic system that we have chosen. The right thing to do may not be the popular thing to do.Local governments need to clean up the air and water, clear litter and manage waste if they are to make urban spaces more liveable, and if they are to benefit the local population from tourism income.There were simpler times when we could drink from the neighbourhoodwater spout, well, or street-side tap. As water became polluted and spread disease, we were forced to buy and drink bottled water. We are not alone in this unfortunate trajectory. The world-famous brand Evian started selling bottled water in Switzerland in 1929 because of the fear of cholera.What will we do if the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking/">air is as polluted</a>? Breathe bottled air? That is already happening in some bars across the world that offer piped oxygen. The day may not be far away when we start seeing tourists at Darbar Square not just carrying bottled water but also oxygen cylinders in their backpacks. With the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-from-hubei-quarantined-in-bhaktapur/">Covid19</a> scare, we are already seeing them masked.If, god forbid, a disease outbreak were to occur in Nepal, could our elected officials impose a strict quarantine of the kind we have seen in Hubei? Can they clear illegally occupied land or river banks? Will they stop breweries from polluting rivers upstream from national parks? Or shut down an illegal asphalt factory in the middle of a residential area in the capital?China can build a 1,000 bed hospital in two weeks because it never had free and fair elections. This is not the path Nepal has chosen, but something is not working if officials elected to protect the public only protect those who fund them.The government wasted tax rupees to ‘train’ rivers by building gabion embankments which did not even last the next monsoon due to poor design and bad engineering. Local governments now make a fortune allowing corrupt contractors to extract of sand and boulders from rivers. Tipper trucks mine river beds and have killed the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/The-economy-needs-oxygen,459">Trisuli, Sun Kosi and Indrawati rivers</a>. They are not done yet: now they are moving upstream to damage watersheds and water sources.Nepal needs a national compact to protect air, water sources, springs, wells, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/crushers-of-justice/">watersheds like the Chure Hills</a>. Timber, sand and boulders will allow <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/crushing-tale-of-Chure">contractors to make a fortune</a>, and government officials to strike rich with kickbacks. But the people need water tomorrow for drinking and irrigation, and not so much that it <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/monsoon-2019-deluge/">floods the downstream Tarai</a>.Governments were elected to ensure development that can sustain us into the future, not to irreversibly destroy it. We must all work together to get our elected governments to protect open spaces for the next disaster, our monuments and cultural assets for the next generations, and plants, birds and animals for the sake of humanity. In a federal Nepal, these responsibilities are greater at the local level.Anil Chitrakaris President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddharthinc</a>.

What next for Kathmandu: bottled air?

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101132/636b73c79c7e80680e062359jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>The past decade has seen a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=336#.XjjoTU8za70">dramatic rise in the number of book publishers, book stores and writers in Nepal</a>. On the one hand this could be because of a rising population of literate people, but it has also become economically viable to publish and sell books.However, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8589#.Xjjoak8za70">the reading public</a> is still limited to those who can afford to buy books, or have access to them. And now comes news that the same government that wants to take mathematics out of the school curriculum for biology students in Grades 11-12, is taxing the import of books.Several book distributors have been forced to close shop because the books are being taxed on their dollar or euro price tags, and not the lower prices for their South Asian editions. This is probably the only country in the world that has excise duty on knowledge.So, do Nepalis actually read or not? There is evidence that with the spread of smart phones, people with shorter attention spans have no time to read. And the erosion of a reading culture does not bode well for Nepal’s democracy.How many have actually read the 1950 Indo-Nepal Treaty to publicly support or oppose it? How many have seen or heard of the Anglo-Nepal Sugauli Treaty of 1816, or the treaty with the Chinese emperor signed on the banks of the Betrawati River in 1856?More recently, how many have actually read detailed project documents of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-millennium-challenge/">Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC)</a> to support or oppose it? Do they know enough to distinguish between the MCC and the MCA (Millennium Challenge Authority)? Or is the opposition solely based on which side of the faction fence party members sit on?In a country where communists have a majority, one would think that books by and about Marx, Lenin, Mao and Castro would sell like hot cakes. People do read newspapers and the numerous on-line news outlets on the social media, but not too many books.Do Members of Parliament carefully read the draft laws they vote on? Evidence suggests they just don’t bother, and just vote along party lines. Why not make MPs actually read all proposed laws, sit for and pass a written exam before they are allowed to vote on them.To be sure, book launch events are becoming more frequent and there are numerous literary festivals which promote a reading culture. Perhaps we could combine the growing business of home delivery of food and vegetables with a simple question, “Would you also like a book? Can we send you the best seller list?”The idea of reading a book is that it takes over three hundred pages to explain, understand and be knowledgeable about a particular issue, idea, event or person. With the looming threat of air-borne viruses at a time when we are just starting to manage water-borne diseases, how quickly can we get people to read up on the dangers of viral mutation?Nepalis generally know what the Mahabharat, Ramayan, Bhagawat Gita and the Swastani Brata Katha contain, relying mostly on oral tradition and not reading. The bahas of Patan are an exception where we can see the Pragya Paramita being read each morning by the members of the Sangha.This may be the reason why story-tellers and speakers are still given more importance than writers. The rise of the Toastmasters network may be attributed to this same phenomenon. However, a good speaker will still have to rely on good books for content, creating a real win-win. At a recent event they did present books to speakers.While Kathalaya is trying to get children across Nepal to read paper books, Open Learning Exchange (OLE) uses its e–patti to promote electronic books and library. All government schools have a budget to buy library books but there are many cases where bills are made but books are never bought.Recently we presented our neighbour’s child with a book on the occasion of her Bel Bibaha and her eyes lit up with gratitude. She remarked that she loved to read and this was her first gift book.All of us have books that sit on shelves gathering dust. Why not donate them to a school or college library? We could join second hand book stores into a network. We could leave books on the seats of the Sajha bus with a request for all to do the same after reading them.More people are buying, reading and writing books than ever before. The trend for publishing memoires and biographies is on the rise. Mani Lama who dedicated himself to taking one picture of Boudha stupa from the day of the earthquake to its restoration has shown us what creativity and perseverance means as book author. The demand for old and not so old photos of Nepal also seem to have a good demand as one sees in the reprints of Toni Hagen’s books.On 22 February, the annual <a href="https://www.bsmnp.org/">Bal Sahitya Mahotsav</a> is being held at Rato Bangala School with a fun event to promote children’s literature and get students to enjoy reading from a young age.As Jhumpa Lahiri writes in The Namesake: “That's the thing about books. They let you travel without moving your feet.”Anil Chitrakar is President of Siddharthinc

Read and let read

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151120/636a663d9c7e80680e05996ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1312"/><figcaption>illustration: DIWAKAR CHETTRI</figcaption></figure>The earthquakes of April 2015 literally shook all of us out of our complacency, and forced us to understand the value of open spaces -- just as after the 1934 earthquake, when tens of thousands of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/leaving-tundhikhel-shelter-camps,2447">Kathmandu residents moved to the open grounds at Tundikhel</a>, or to Lagankhel in Patan.But memories of disasters are short-lived, and in the past five years instead of protecting the last remaining spaces in Kathmandu Valley, we have allowed them to be encroached upon. At the heart of Kathmandu, Tundikhel represents in a microcosm what is happening across urban Nepal as people move into the cities and real estate prices soar.The land mafia, with its political protection, has infiltrated school management committees and taken over most school playgrounds located on prime real estate. The government created a green belt on the Ring Road -- now it is busy chopping down the last remaining jacarandas. The vehicle lobby is obviously stronger than the tree lobby.This newspaper has been <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5876#.Xe8odIMza70">covering the shrinking Tundikhel since 2002</a>, and for the first time printed maps showing the army’s steady encroachment into the open space. Since the government seems to be too slow to act, it is the public and communities that need to be vigilant -- which is why the current #OccupyTundikhel campaign is so important.One good way to begin protecting open spaces like Tundikhel would be to have every local government across the country make an inventory of such spaces in its jurisdiction. These should then be added to a national open space protected list, and legislation passed to ensure no one who eyes them can actually get their hands on these invaluable areas.Former Patan mayor Buddhi Raj Bajracharya set a good example by protecting community spaces during his tenure. A national database could be created and made available online so that no one dares to buy, sell or encroach on these open spaces.Rituals and festivals can be important reasons to save many of the Kathmandu Valley’s open spaces from encroachment.  Tundikhel hosts annual festivals like the feeding of the Gurumapa, Ghoda Jatra, Shivaratri and, more recently, the New Year’s Day showcase of numerous ethnic groups from across Nepal.A published calendar of such events could help enhance the feeling of ownership of open spaces across the country. Disaster preparedness drills in places like Tundikhel could also be pencilled in as regular events.Nepal’s stellar performance in the South Asian Games 2019 could be another reason to invest in saving open spaces. Tundikhel can be dedicated to all future Nepali gold medallists at the Olympics, World Cups and Asian Games. Names of all those who win medals for Nepal could be inscribed on a special monument. With only temporary structures allowed, sports could provide an effective incentive to care for these spaces.At a time when many Nepalis believe the way to prosperity is not education or enterprise but politics, open spaces could be protected as places where Nepalis gather and practise free speech. The name Khula Manch, which means ‘open stage’, has always held a Hyde Park connotation in Kathmandu, even during the days of absolute monarchy. It is a place where anyone can say anything and not face prosecution of any kind. The country should designate Khulla Manch(s) in all 753 municipalities, inspired by the first one at Tundikhel.The oral tradition of the Kathmandu Valley tells us that Tundikhel (Tinkhya) was land bought by wealthy Lhasa traders who needed space to unload and load goods and as a camping ground for porters and pack animals. After the Sugauli treaty of 1816, Muktiyar Bhimsen Thapa used Tundikhel to parade the Nepal Army, in a bid to impress the British of the country’s military might.This great open space has shrunk over time. Rana rulers built Bir Hospital and the military hospital and the Panchayat leaders constructed the post office, the RNAC building, NEA and City Hall. These were all within the boundaries of greater Tundikhel. The road around it was widened during the state visit of Queen Elizabeth II in 1962.From charging ground water to impressing the British envoy and from hosting ancient rituals to New Year’s Day celebrations, Tundikhel has served us well. The temporary bus terminal and school have to be moved immediately and the army has to return to the people what rightfully belongs to them. After the next earthquake, let us not be forced to say: “I told you so.”And let us not listen to economists and finance experts who tell us we need to monetise everything. Not everything should be valued in cash. Let Tundikhel be what Tundikhel was. End of the debate.Anil Chitrakar is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddharthinc</a>

Let Tundikhel be what Tundikhel was

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110815118/636a63a29c7e80680e05988ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"/><figcaption>Californian writing mentor Laurie Wagner (left) and poet James Hopkins (second left), convene sessions of the Himalayan Writers Workshop to stimulate the writing senses, here in a Bodnath cafe</figcaption></figure>“I’d like this one please.” A loud voice in the peaceful garden café in the shadow of Bodnath stupa startles me from my notebook. I see a lady stabbing the menu with her finger.“But no salami only the cheese, and be sure not to put in any salt, chilli or onion. And make sure the french fries are cooked brown and crispy. And please make me an extra piece of toast because I am really hungry. And don’t forget, no salami, no salt, no chilli and no onion.”She glances challengingly in my direction as I try to hide a smile, recalling a similar sequence in the movie <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inIRtrZIvwU">Five Easy Pieces</a> but in an Alaskan highway diner.Unlike in the film, the waiter nods obligingly and writes it all down with long suffering. She has a conspicuous mala of prayer beads and baggy meditation clothes, carries a well-used cushion, and wears her Buddhism provocatively.Despite the American accent and air of aging defiance, I worry for her. As I leave the restaurant careful to avoid her eye, she is still waiting for breakfast.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110815118/636a63a69c7e80680e05988fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1242"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I am taking a break from the <a href="http://www.himalayanwritersworkshop.com/">Himalayan Writers Workshop</a>, a ten-day course of writing, meditation, introspection and literary self-indulgence to which I’m becoming addicted. This is my second time, but I’m still trying to find that elusive space to write my own memoirs.My poet pal, James Hopkins, has interrupted his Buddhist practice to gather together an unlikely group of committed North American ladies and bookish gents to bask in Nepal’s fertile spiritual atmosphere. Devised by James and offering several courses a year led by various literary luminaries from the US, his Himalayan Writers Workshop attracts a wide range of overseas students, from aspiring to arrived, from young to not-so-young. What we all have in common is a desire to write more or write better, inspired by the unique Himalayan ambiance.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110815118/636a63a99c7e80680e059890jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This October course is promisingly titled ‘Wild Writing, Calm Mind’, and our guest teacher is Laurie Wagner who brings Californian intimacy and relentless honesty to our literary efforts. With bouncing curls, penetrating gaze and feisty grin, Laurie challenges us beyond our comfort zone to push our penned limits, to face our deepest misgivings, to break through barriers, and to throw down words onto that daunting blank page.Cradled within her carefully woven safety net, tears are not unusual as emotions are unleashed and nerves touched. Laurie stimulates us with selected verses and witty techniques: ‘story slices’ encapsulate a spontaneous moment in time, and ‘wild writing’ where the pen does not leave the page for fifteen unguarded minutes, ‘conjuring up stories that are waiting to be written’.James embodies the power of poetry, though he has lost the blond greying ponytail. The designer stubble, zen clothing and energetic charm remain. “I’m not as nice as you think I am.” But I disagree. He organises a local begging village to sew cotton quilts to educate their children, and his deaf-mute waitress friend joins us all for dinner, gesturing in distress at the fast-moving conversation.“I’ll tell you everything later” he signals her back, his hands flying. Yellow petals float in a brass bowl. “I bought the roses around the stupa this morning - why are they wilting already?”During James’ early morning meditation sessions, we calm and awaken our writing senses. He helps us understand how Rinpoche teachings and Buddhist detachment can reveal unexpected truths - just be aware, let go and listen. Tempered with: “We all need a dose of chaos.” Circling Bodnath stupa at dawn we follow him in silence, focussing on sounds or smells. No wonder eavesdropped café conversations become so vivid.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110815118/636a63ac9c7e80680e059891jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The rest of the workshop days are spent on sightseeing walks to assault the senses, guest lectures to arouse contemplation, and structured exercises to write, read, listen, edit, prune, narrate, share and trust. “Connecting our wild voices,” as Laurie calls it. We continue the conversation in libraries, perched in teashops, gathered on temple steps, around sunny outdoor tables, and on cane chairs in gardens full of marigolds.We participants inhabit hotels near the densely divine centres of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/saving-swayambhu-destroyed-by-the-earthquake,2310">Swayambhunath</a> and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-stupa-of-a-million-dewdrops/">Bodnath</a>, before progressing to the open greenery and starry skies of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18298#.XeNtGYMza70">Namobuddha</a>. Sipping lemon grass tea amidst hills receding in waves of blue and grey, the local Namobuddha cottages are too small to swing a cat or perform a downward dog – I know because I tried. But the undisturbed hilltop resort is perfectly chosen for meditating and writing purposes.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110815118/636a63af9c7e80680e059892jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>During a group walk through the back alleys of Patan escorted by the incomparable fellow-columnist in this paper <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/half-full/nepal-between-two-tomcats,1084">Anil Chitrakar</a>, I reflect on the value of seeing familiar sights with fresh eyes, and embracing unanticipated outcomes with courage. My first Himalayan Writers Workshop was with travel writer Eric Weiner three years ago, and the laboriously crafted piece I read out on our final night resulted in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837">first of these Nepali Times So Far So Good pieces</a>. That was 72 fortnightly columns ago.But I’m still trying to get started on that memoir. Singer songwriter Patti Smith wrote an entire book, mainly in a café drinking black coffee, on how hard she found it to write a book. How many times have I been told: “You have such an interesting life, a ringside seat at early conservation and tourism events, what changes you must have seen over 45 years in Nepal, all those historic people you met, and so many entertaining stories. You simply must write it all down into a book.” Must I?<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151112/636a63b39c7e80680e059893jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>www.himalayanwritersworkshop.comLisa Choegyal is a Brit who has made Nepal her home since the mid 1970s. She has been writing these bi-monthly columns, So Far So Good, for Nepali Times since Feburary 2017.  © LisaChoegyal

Lisa Choegyal

Writing about writing

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141120/636a57d49c7e80680e054803jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2657" height="2208"/><figcaption>Illustration: SUBHAS RAI</figcaption></figure>Till only two centuries ago almost every human being lived and worked from home. The industrial revolution brought factories, then offices forced city-dwellers to commute to work and back.But with the Information Age, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/nepals-new-digital-landscape/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">smart devices</a> in the hands of smart people means we can once again work from home. Going to an office will and should become irrelevant. Home workers will also not have to work five days a week. They will be so productive, three days will be enough.That is probably what will also reduce traffic jams, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-to-clean-up-kathmandus-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">improve the air quality</a> and as we become healthier, we will once again live longer. Where you are physically located will become irrelevant and the notion of going abroad will be limited to leisure, adventure and disposable incomes. But even here, we have seen a 15% drop in domestic air travel in northern Europe as awareness of the extent of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tourism-aviation-and-carbon/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">impact of aviation on the climate crisis</a> becomes clear.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/lets-listen-to-nepals-young-changemakers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Let's listen to Nepal's young changemakers</a>, Anil ChitrakarThe transformation in the way we work is going to have huge implication for the designs of homes, neighbourhoods and cities. The key word is ‘work’. There still are many who are looking for a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/success-in-nepal-means-not-having-to-work/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">jagir</a> salaried job in the civil service or private companies. Perception and understanding of work and jagir will be very different depending on who you ask.Some still seek a ten to five jagir in an office that pays a fixed income each month, comes with a lifelong pension, and takes a little bit of chakari to keep bosses and political masters happy. Performance and delivery of output are not really an issue, and the worst thing that can happen is you get moved to a different office or to some remote area of the country away from your family and the schools your children attend.Many are seeking a jagir, while others seek work. From construction to managing a restaurant, from driving a taxi or tipper truck to growing crops and vegetables, there are many who work.Work requires self-discipline and a high level of skill and knowledge, which come with a piece of paper that proves you can actually do what you are claiming. There are many risks, including not being paid or being constantly told that the work you did was not good enough.Work may also involve long hours and no holidays, unlike in a jagir where days off are published a year in advance. People who seek work like being independent and want to take risks knowing the benefits are there. They love to have fun, they really know when and how to spend time with family and friends.With the ongoing restructuring of the state there will be fewer government and private sector jagirs going around in Kathmandu. This may be a good opportunity to carve out our work niche for ourselves. Many already have a head start.Numerous producers and service providers have set up businesses. Many <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/lets-listen-to-nepals-young-changemakers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">young people</a> tell us that they are skilled, they have support from the family, have a bit of savings and they want to work – gainfully and independently.These are smart Nepalis with smart devices who want to work smart. They partner with other smart people and wish to live in smart houses in smart neighbourhoods of smart cities. The marketing is all data-driven in an age where data is more valuable than oil.We now need to extend this concept to our towns and cities. For example, being climate smart is critical for the future of humanity and hence there is a need for all individuals and families to do their own carbon audits. A smart app can tell us our carbon footprints, and suggest ways to reduce it.The smartest system is our ecosystem, and we are all smart enough to learn how nature produces for us and its limits to absorb what we waste. As we plan our homes, cities, energy and infrastructure, let us place smart citizens and their work at the centre of all planning.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nt/opinion/12-full-opinion/">Anil Chitrakar</a> is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddharthinc</a>

Smarter Nepalis with smarter devices

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The debate about who is less accountable to the public: politicians or bureaucrats is as old as Nepal’s democracy itself.
Some blame politicians for being beholden to the businessmen who finance their electoral campaigns, and are forced to return the favour with contracts and kickbacks when in power.&nbsp;
Others say it is civil servants who are neither civil nor servants, and know the inner workings of the system to exploit loopholes – they then teach ministers, MPs, mayors, or ward chairs which juicy projects can be squeezed. And everyone gets their share.
In reality, it is probably not a case of either, or. Both have their hands deep in the honey pot. Corruption is now such a given that yet another exposé in the mainstream press, like the latest visit-visa scam, does not raise eyebrows anymore.
We may have to edit Lord Acton’s famous quote to say that in Nepal we do not even need absolute power to corrupt absolutely. The ruling cartel has divvied up the spoils, so that no one ever faces charges. The three parties all know about the skeletons rattling in each other’s closets, and they cancel each other out.
Politicians and bureaucrats get all the blame for taking bribes, but what of the givers of bribes? In this crony capitalism, businesses invariably need political patrons in an elaborate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">national network of give-and-take</a>.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">Politicians and businesses work hand-in-glove</a> so that conflict of interest in contracts, insider trading, cartelling, and non-performing assets of banks become the norm. Our survey after the 2017 local election showed that out of the 753 newly-elected local government chairs, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elected-contractors" target="_blank">nearly 300 were contractors</a> involved in sand-mining, quarrying, or transportation syndicates.
Nepal’s tycoons have discovered that instead of donating to election war chests of politicians, it is a much surer return on investment to spend the money to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-business-of-politics-in-nepal" target="_blank">become legislators and politicians themselves</a>.
In democracies, there are checks and balances to control corruption when it becomes endemic. The Nepal Police and Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) are supposed to do the detective work without political interference. The courts are required to be independent in dispensing justice and punishing crooks.
But the less said about the judiciary the better. A writ petition in the Supreme Court last week accused our sister magazine <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> of contempt of court for two stories: one about how high courts have been overturning a majority of verdicts of district courts in cases of rape, and another about the Biratnagar High Court clearing a self-proclaimed holy man, Krishna Bahadur Giri, of rape despite police presenting physical evidence.
The doctrine of the separation of powers stipulates that it is when the other three pillars in a democracy are compromised that the role of the free press becomes even more vital. The world over, as soon as populist autocrats are elected to the executive, their first order of business is to co-opt the legislature and the judiciary. Then they buy off, intimidate, or neutralise the media with Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPP).
Nepal’s officialdom seems to be taking midnight Zoom lessons from other despots on how to gag the media. Last month, popular talk show host Dil Bhushan Pathak was served an arrest warrant by the Kathmandu District Court for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CntsnTrtG8" target="_blank">a YouTube explainer</a> about the alleged involvement of the son of Foreign Minister Arzu Deuba Rana in a reported purchase of Kathmandu’s Hilton Hotel.
The Lalitpur District Court ruled that Pathak could not be arrested without fair trial, but this week the Kathmandu District Court filed another case against the journalist based on a complaint by the Cyber Bureau, and put him on a fugitive list.&nbsp;
Without going into the veracity of Pathak’s explainer, it is deeply problematic that the Electronic Transaction Act has been invoked – proof that politicians are getting the courts and investigating agencies to make an example of a high profile journalist.&nbsp;
The intention is to silence media investigations into the fake refugee scandal in which the main partner in the ruling coalition is implicated, and in which one of its former home ministers was jailed last year.
The Kathmandu High Court has been mysteriously active in targeting journalists these days. <a href="https://bizmandu.com/" target="_blank">Bizmandu</a> and <a href="https://nepalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">Nepalkhabar</a> were served a notice last month <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-freedom-after-expression-y4inku06" target="_blank">to withdraw a story they did</a> on the Chair of the <a href="https://www.sebon.gov.np/" target="_blank">Security and Exchange Board of Nepal (SEBON</a>) Santosh Narayan Shrestha allegedly demanding kickbacks from hydropower investors.&nbsp;
Incredibly, the court even asked the two portals not to report on the subject anymore – a ruling so absurd that the Patan High Court overturned it a week later.&nbsp;
The allegations against Shrestha were made in a public meeting of the <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Independent Power Producers Association of Nepal (IPPAN)</a>, and MPs demanded a <a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/parliament-demands-probe-into-sebon-chairman-over-alleged-commission-demand-40-32.html" target="_blank">Parliament inquiry</a> into the regulator. <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/144523/santosh-narayan-shrestha" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> reported this week that while Shrestha was reportedly demanding commissions from private investors for IPOs, he cleared primary share sales in Bajhang’s 10.75MW <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Bungal Hydro</a> in which his family members have investments, company records show.
And then just on Monday, bureaucrats hoodwinked MPs by deleting references in a bill requiring a two-year ‘cooling off’ period under which retiring civil servants could be barred from holding constitutional positions for two years.
The contest for who is more corrupt: bureauacrats, politicians, or the private sector is on.
Kunda Dixit

SLAPPing Democracy

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

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