Every year antimicrobial resistance (AMR) contributes to the death of around 5 million people around the world. Resistance to antibiotics, once considered ‘miracle drugs’, is fast becoming one of the biggest threats to health and development in Nepal as well.
Antimicrobial resistance (AMR) empowers harmful microbes to withstand the very medications designed to stop them from spreading. This means that disease-causing microbes such as bacteria, viruses, fungi, and parasites can survive even when we treat them with medicine.
So how are these pathogens getting more resistant? There are many factors, the primary being underuse, overuse or indiscriminate use of antibiotics to treat common infections among humans or livestock.
Introducing medicinal drugs to microorganisms without proper tests and diagnostic trials helps them build resistance and get stronger. As a result, many medicinal drugs have become ineffective because they do not kill the ‘<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17373">superbugs</a>’. If this keeps up, it will not be long before medicines become ineffective in treating diseases.
AMR is not just a problem for humans, it can affect wildlife as well as the whole ecosystem. Microorganisms resistant to drugs can reach forests and wildlife through air and water. Human-animal interactions can also expose them to these drug-resistant organisms.
Numerous wild animals like elephants, rhinos and wild boars often venture outside Nepal’s protected areas into farmlands to feed. In buffer zones in Chitwan or Bardia, it is common for domestic and wild animals to graze in the same area and use the same water source, this can transfer harmful pathogens to new hosts – the wild animals.
Once livestock is infected with antibiotic resistant microbes, the shared resources in the forest will create a pathway for transmission of diseases among wild animals.
Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/are-you-sick-of-chicken">Are you sick of chicken?</a>, Sonia Awale
Even when dealing with known infections, providing medical treatment and care to wild animals poses formidable challenges. This will only be exacerbated when facing infections caused by new superbugs.
The more advanced the infection, the easier it spreads, and lower the chances for it to be treated successfully. The drugs available to treat such diseases will be more limited, and the only option will be to stand back helplessly as wildlife die en masse. By the time new antidotes are tested and delivered, it will be too late, and entire species may be wiped out of their habitats.
The forests of Nepal are home to many globally endangered and rare species, and they are now under huge risk of AMR. Geographical variations in the area means that different animal species share the same habitat, creating opportunities for shared encounters. In such circumstances, infections can swiftly spread infecting entire wildlife populations in the area.
Some habitats in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/underpasses-to-reduce-roadkill-in-nepal">Tarai region</a> are connected to India, allowing animals to freely cross the border and potentially carry harmful pathogens back and forth, harming the country’s tourism and economy.
It is important to recognise the looming dangers of AMR on Nepal’s wildlife. The first thing is to evaluate the degree of damage drug resistance has inflicted on wildlife populations thus far by conducting nationwide surveys to evaluate the current status of AMR in wildlife. Based on the findings, plans, and policies should be developed and amended as required.
Monitoring of healthcare, medication practices, and overall public health ecosystem is necessary as these are the root causes of AMR.
Education and raising awareness play a huge role in mitigating the risks of AMR. In Nepal, only a small section of the population, mainly those in medical or clinical fields, are familiar with AMR. This lack of awareness among the general population results in the careless misuse of antimicrobials.
A common example would be the use of pesticides by farmers to boost crop yields without considering their detrimental effects on the environment and ecosystem. Similar practices are also common in other sectors such as poultry, fisheries, and animal husbandry. Increased public awareness about the dangers of AMR among communities and individuals would help mitigate the threat.
Achieving this will not be simple, and it cannot be accomplished by one agency alone. It needs a coordinated plan to tackle a huge challenge. Government agencies, lawmakers, research persons, medical personnel, farmers and grassroots workers must take ownership.
A unified commitment to curb increasing AMR will not just save human lives, but also preserve Nepal’s success in nature conservation.
Siddhantha Pandey is a MSc Biotechnology student at Tribhuvan University and a research affiliate at Greenhood Nepal.

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Nepal’s wildlife at risk from drug resistance

<h6>Antibiotics in poultry make Nepalis resistant to drugs that fight infections</h6>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlOudtkiAyQ&amp;feature=youtu.beThe next time you dig into a plate of chicken curry and rice or order momos, you may want to first find out what the birds are fed in the poultry farm where the meat came from.Broiler poultry is fast replacing free-ranging chicken in markets across Nepal, meaning birds bred in crowded pens have to be fed <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11719#.WweuOe6FO70" target="_blank" rel="noopener">antibiotics</a> so they don't get infections and grow faster.Half of broiler chicken meat and eggs in Nepal are estimated to have antibiotic residue. This means people who consume them slowly develop a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Antibiotic-resistance,1974" target="_blank" rel="noopener">resistance to antibiotics</a>, and will not respond to treatment of bacterial infections.An <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/counter-attack-microbes,3407" target="_blank" rel="noopener">epidemic of anti-microbial resistance is sweeping the world</a>, and scientists say one of the main reasons is the ingestion of antibiotics from poultry products, dairy milk, pork and aquaculture fish.Common illnesses are turning into potential killers, and surgery can sometimes be fatal because of ‘superbugs’ that are immune to most antibiotics. Kathmandu hospitals all have patients who are not responding to antibiotic treatment for typhoid, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/resistance-to-live-saving-drugs-threatens-to-set-back-progress-in-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener">tuberculosis</a>, pneumonia, or common infected wounds.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d7049c7e80680e0314bajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/>“Two-third of antibiotics globally is used on animals, and chicken are often fed last resort antibiotics. It may not be a good idea to eat poultry products,” advises Buddha Basnyat, physician at Patan Hospital.Numerous studies in Nepal have shown that antibiotic residue in poultry is finding its way into the human food chain. Poultry farmers use antibiotics not just when their chicken fall sick, but for prevention and also as a growth promoter.“We know it for a fact that farmers are using antibiotics in poultry as prophylactics to prevent diseases,” explains Sameer Mani Dixit of the Centre for Molecular Dynamics Nepal. “We might be getting healthy chicken, but at the cost of resistance that has major public health consequences.”However, the use of antibiotics in poultry farms is going down in Nepal because of a recent law against antibiotic additives in chicken feed, and farmers are now generally more careful about hygiene. Even so, chicken consumption in Nepal has grown several fold in the last decade as living standards rise. Nepalis consume up to 5kg per capita of chicken meat per year, higher than annual consumption per person in India and Bangladesh combined.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d7079c7e80680e0314bbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="840"><a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5870509/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A study</a> this year by the Institute of Agriculture and Animal Sciences showed that 94% of the E coli bacteria in broiler chicken in Chitwan showed resistance to up to four types of antibiotics. Not only is antimicrobial residue in meat making people resistant to the drugs, but the chicken themselves are contaminated with harmful bugs that are resistant. (See chart, below)<a href="https://www.nepjol.info/index.php/IJASBT/article/view/18302" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Another study</a> published in the International Journal of Applied Sciences and Biotechnology last year showed high tetracyclin and penicillin residue in 22% of meat samples in Kavre and Kailali districts. <a href="https://www.farm.com.np/research/detection-of-antibiotic-residues-in-marketed-broiler-meat-of-gorkha-parsa-chitwan-and-kathmandu-district/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Another research</a> by the Institute of Agriculture and Animal Science, Rampur, showed that 40% of chicken samples in Gorkha, Parsa, Chitwan and Kathmandu had penicillin residue, while 35% had tetracycline traces, and there were aminoglycosides in 17.5% of the samples.An earlier study by the Department of Food Technology and Quality Control found that nearly 70% of chicken meat sold in Kathmandu Valley still had ampicillin residue -- with about 17% having concentrations above the permissible threshold.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d70a9c7e80680e0314bcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="700" height="666">Although Nepal now has a law against antibiotic additives in feed, the ban is not effective because of the open border with India. A recent expose by the UK-based Bureau of Investigative Journalism titled ‘<a href="https://www.thebureauinvestigates.com/stories/2018-01-30/a-game-of-chicken-how-indian-poultry-farming-is-creating-global-superbugs" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A Game of Chicken: How Indian Poultry Farming is Creating Global Superbugs</a>’ revealed lax controls, and a looming superbug epidemic in hospitals across India.High bacterial disease burden, overuse of human antibiotics, and no regulation on use of antimicrobials in poultry and livestock means <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/india-tackles-the-emergent-threat-of-superbugs,1976" target="_blank" rel="noopener">India is sitting on a time bomb</a>, scientists say. And right next door, with no border controls, is Nepal.The British company Venky exported nearly a thousand tons of the ‘last hope’ antibiotic colistin branded ‘Colis V’ to India and Nepal in 2016 for use in poultry, according to customs data. WHO has recommended that colistin be restricted in animals because it is one of the few drugs that can still treat infections in humans. Two Indian companies also manufacture colistin as antibiotics and growth promoters.The report quoted Timothy Walsh, professor of Medical Microbiology at Cardiff University as saying: “Colistin is the last line of defence. It is the only drug we have to treat critically ill patients resistant to carbapenems. Giving it to chickens as feed is crazy.”Carbapenems are last resort antibotics used to fight infections in the bladder, lungs and blood in humans, but more than half of infected patients in India are already resistant to carbapenems and need colistin to get better. Drug resistant infections kill an estimated 58,000 babies in India every year. In Nepal, there is evidence that colistin resistance is spreading among humans (see graph, below).<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d70c9c7e80680e0314bdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="411">Although European countries have restricted antibiotic use in animal feed, the United States is still using it indiscriminately even though the Atlanta-based Centre for Disease Control and Prevention and WHO have warned about the proven link between antibiotics in animals and antibiotic-resistant infections in humans.From 2008 to 2016, Nepal’s import of veterinary drugs is estimated to have doubled as poultry farms proliferate to meet demand. An estimated Rs300 million worth of veterinary antibiotics were imported last year, records show. Nepal meets only 15% of its poultry and livestock antibiotic requirement from domestic pharmaceutical companies. Experts say the government controls on antibiotic additives in animal feed will not work as long as it is allowed in India.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d70e9c7e80680e0314bejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="579"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“The trend of antibiotic residue in poultry and resistance in humans won’t stop unless there is a better mechanism to regulate and monitor quality control and sales of drugs,” says Varun Sharma at the Department of Livestock. "Our only hope is to make sure that antibiotics which still work last longer, by regulating their use."There is also a need to make poultry farmers aware of the dangers. Many have a misconception that antibiotics prevent infections and promote growth, when it should be given only for treatment. However, Til Chandra Bhattarai of Pancha Ratna Group of Poultry Industries in Chitwan says it is impossible to run a modern poultry business without antibiotics because of the widespread danger of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-chicken,657" target="_blank" rel="noopener">avian infections</a>.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d7109c7e80680e0314bfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="758">Tika Rai, who runs a poultry farm in Nuwakot that supplies meat to Kathmandu markets, agrees. He urges the government to help with alternatives like probiotics as growth promoters and biosecurity.“These drugs are a major cost in the business, but we cannot stop using antibiotics. We would lose all our investment if the birds die,” Rai told us.Farmers are also said to be violating the withdrawal period which requires birds fed antibiotics to be quarantined for a period before being sold. Over-the-counter sales of antibiotics, over-prescription and self-administration in poultry farms all contribute to spreading drug-resistance in humans.WHO calls antibiotic resistance the biggest threat to global health. It warns that South Asia is 'the epicentre' of the drug resistance crisis, and an epidemic of superbugs in India would engulf Nepal as well.Many Nepalis already have multi-drug resistant tuberculosis and pneumonia that do not respond to treatment, because of earlier misuse of antibiotics, and from eating chicken raised on antibiotic-laced feed.Says Sarada Thapaliya, Dean of Veterinary Science and Fisheries in Chitwan: “The restrictive and judicious use of antibiotics in animal feed is the best available solution for now.”<h4>Banning antibiotics in food animals</h4><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d7129c7e80680e0314c0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="795">The link between anti-microbial resistance in humans and antibiotic use in poultry and livestock is now scientifically proven, and countries around the world have banned their use as growth promoters. Many countries still allow limited use to control poultry epidemics, but enforce a window period after the drugs are administered so the meat does not have drug residue when consumed.Sweden was the first country to stop animal antibiotic use as growth promoters, in 1986. In 2006, the EU banned all antibiotics used to make animals grow faster. In 2017, the US also restricted antibiotics as feed supplement.In the Asia Pacific region, antibiotic use in poultry feed is projected to rise by 129%, by 2030, with India and China leading the way because of higher living standards. Bangladesh law in 2010 criminalises antibiotic use as growth promoter in animal feed.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Antibiotic-resistance,1974" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Antibiotic resistance</a>, Buddha Basnyat and Hellen Gelband<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/growth-of-antibiotic-resistance-in-nepal,1975" target="_blank" rel="noopener">"Patients are impatient"</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/counter-attack-microbes,3407" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Counter-attack of microbes</a>, Sameer M Dixit, Buddha Basnyat and Paras PokhrelSource: Department of Food Technology and Quality Control, Antibiotic resistance pattern and virulence genes content in avian pathogenic Escherichia coli (APEC) from broiler chickens in Chitwan, Nepal, Multi-drug resistance and extended spectrum beta lactamase producing Gram negative bacteria from chicken meat in Bharatpur Metropolitan, Nepal, Prevalence and Antibioic Resistance Profile of Salmonella from Livestock and Poultry Raw Meat, Nepal, Assessment of Antibiotic Residues in the Marketed Meat of Kailali and Kavre of Nepal, Detection of antibiotic residues in marketed broiler meat of Gorkha, Parsa, Chitwan and Kathmandu districtReaders write:<a href="https://twitter.com/RajeebLalSatyal" data-user-id="85534869">Rajeeb Lal Satyal‏</a>Not scary anymore. It comes in package as a part of being Nepali and a lot more. We become vegetarian for the same reason. But Vegetarians are also not free. Every vegetable we eat has pesticide. That's why, unlike in old days, we look for vegetables with insects instead.

Sonia Awale

Are you sick of chicken?

Nepal’s month-long cricket carnival ended on a sunny Saturday in Kathmandu with a final game in which the Lumbini Lions dominated the Sudurpaschim Royals with both bat and ball.&nbsp; The Royals were bowled out for an embarrassing 85, thanks to Namibian Ruben Trumplemann’s three wickets for three runs, and captain Rohit Paudel’s hat-trick in the eleventh over. Only opener Ishan Pandey’s 33 run-innings was of any note.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="909" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1345" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  The Lions came out with virtually no pressure on them, and Dinesh Adhikari’s 42 off 13 including 27 off the first over bowled by Dipendra Singh Airee won the match. Rohit Paudel came in to finish the match calmly, with 11 overs to spare, scoring two stylish fours and a six before holing out with the Lions on 83.&nbsp; The Lions took comically long to get the final two runs to win the game, losing one more wicket. But it was merely a matter of time, and a single ended the Royal’s misery.&nbsp; As dusk fell, the big fluffy lion mascot was on the field dapping up the Lions as red fireworks went off and Lumbini fans leaped from their seats in the packed stands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  This capped off an incredible run from the Lions who had finished dead last in NPL Season 1, and had only one win and three losses after four games. They won the remaining three, finishing fourth, barely qualifying.&nbsp; This meant that they had to play an eliminator last week against the Kathmandu Gorkhas and then a qualifier against the popular Biratnagar Kings, whose squad included Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. They won both in style. For the Royals, however, this was the second disappointing final in a row after being the best team in the group stage in both seasons of the NPL. National team batsman Binod Bhandari had had an excellent tournament for the Royals, but was in tears at having come this far again and fallen short.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  Despite the final being disappointingly less action-packed for the neutral viewer, the final marked the second successful execution of the NPL. The addition of seats and floodlights at the TU Cricket Stadium overlooking Kathmandu made evening games possible and improved the experience for fans.&nbsp; The floodlights also made for some gorgeous photography as the sun set behind Chandragiri, illuminating the Himalaya to the north in gradually fading shades of orange.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adam Rossington’s 323 runs, including a century, and Sandeep Lamichhane’s 17 wickets were the standout individual performances across the tournament in the past month.&nbsp; The tournament brought out characters much loved by the vociferous crowd, including ‘Taklu’ Irish commentator Andrew Leonard who worked in a Dhaka Topi, British presenter Jess Crowe who donned a Sari for the final, and Chitwan Rhinos’ charismatic mascot Mr Gaida who entertained the crowd with enthusiastic nonstop dancing.&nbsp; The tournament was such a draw that the university grounds looked like a carnival with food and merchandise stalls. The capacity 10,000 stadium drew such a crowd that Kathmandu streets were relatively quiet on Saturday with people also watching the game live on tv at home.&nbsp; Kathmandu’s residents were genuinely delighted at being able to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/cricket-carnival">a Nepali cricket tournament</a>, and not about the Indian or English Premier Leagues. And while everyone appreciated the cricket no matter who was playing, fans showed up for their provinces in loud numbers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The organisers having proven themselves, future NPLs may need more stadiums in other provinces, even better overseas players.&nbsp; Sambhav Sirohiya of the Kathmandu Media Group ambitiously tweeted that he believes that the league could already become the second most valuable franchise cricket league NEXT SEASON, especially if the government would loosen up its regulations of advertising, especially that of alcohol. Nepali cricketers and fans are now better prepared for the T20 World Cup in India and Sri Lanka in February, with the experience of playing in the NPL and with the access to world-class cricket talent and seeing how they go about excelling at the sport.&nbsp;

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

People like myself were too young during the decade of the Maoist War to remember its horrors. We often wonder what life was truly like back then. Perhaps the closest we have come to experiencing a national crisis of that scale – with the protests, violence, curfews, and political maneuvering – was the GenZ movement in September. How did people cope? What did they fear? What was it like in the cities and &nbsp;villages? How was it that the king still held so much power? What motivated the guerrillas? And, how did &nbsp;ordinary people adjust and endure the war? My curiosity about the war that ended 20 years ago &nbsp;was met with a rollercoaster of emotions with Monica Rana’s debut novel, The Paths We Choose. The novel is not a retelling of events from the vantage of leaders, rebels. It is not about the violence, but a carefully curated perspective of ordinary people caught up in it. It is a glimpse into how the war altered or defined their paths. This is the 'People’s War' from the people’s own perspective. Readers are immediately invested into the lives of two central characters, the sister duo, Sumnima and Rita. The elder radiating from the beginning with her brave and cunning aura, and the latter, more timid and obedient, much of her time absorbed in awe of her sister. The writer’s language flows as effortlessly as the sisters’ strides up the hills to steal mangoes from Dhire Dai’s trees, only to race back down to Rato Mato, carrying us through their journey into adolescence. Amidst the rolling hills, mango trees, life is filled with laughter, adventures, and everyday banter, scenes so serene that they carry an unsettling calm that hints at what lies ahead. Village life is not all painted in romantic hues. The stark reality of poverty, subsistence, and contrast with the comfort of city living are never far away. Amidst these reminders, there runs a humbling truth: happiness once rested on small things, not on the material excess that define urban life. As the pages turn, the title begins to resonate: two sisters, once bound by the same bloodline, shared dreams, and the same roof, are caught in the crosshairs of war and forced onto separate paths. One by choice, and the other by necessity. The story unfolds with the seasons: the relentless monsoon rains, the scorching heat of summer, and a liberating winter that carries bittersweet truths. The year is 2001, as the insurgency intensifies. Against this backdrop, the cousins’ lives diverge. Sumnima is drawn into the rebels’ ranks to 'fight for equality and freedom', while Rita is uprooted, carried across distances, and placed in Seto Bangala as a helping hand among the higher-ups, in her family’s desperate attempt to secure her a better life after their village is reduced to a 'ghost city' by violent attacks. There are betrayals and beginnings, high palaces and humble hills, royals and rurals, identity and ideology, loss and lament, distance and discovery. Through upheavals, tears, and struggles, one thing remains constant: both sisters wonder about the other. They care. They long to reconnect. They hold fast to the dream they once shared to open a guesthouse in their village someday. A dream to simply live with no fear. To be free. To be happy. And, to be together. The writing illuminates vital themes: innocent people caught up in strife, the vast chasm of class from royals dining on silver plates to villagers back home hiding their last grain to save it from looters. And discrimination so stark it was as if people carried labels on their foreheads, marked by caste, skin colour, and gender. The sisters eventually reunite, but their journey is not an easy one, and what lies ahead is far from the future either of them once imagined. One might romanticise it as fate, or might recoil at the harsh reality Monica Rana lays bare: it is often the innocent who bear the heaviest burdens of war. Civilians are trapped between warring sides, enduring hunger, displacement, and violence through no fault of their own. Wars continue to rage across the world. Though the novel does not particularly focus on exposing the horrifying depths of war crimes, it remains a timeless reminder of what the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish once said: “The war will end, and leaders will shake hands. The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son. And those children will keep waiting for their hero father. I don’t know who sold our homeland, but I saw who paid the price.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The paths we choose book review"> </figure>

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My father’s son

The war between people