Before the road got here to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Nepal’s prime apple growing region</a>, the bumper fruit harvest would rot in the orchards in autumn. Farmers tried to feed apples to livestock, but the cattle were sick of eating it. There were few jobs, a war was going on, and most young men migrated out of this spectacularly scenic but isolated region along the Kali Gandaki River between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri. &nbsp; Saroj Tulachan was one of them. He left his small homestead near Tukuche and walked five days to Pokhara, took a bus to Kathmandu and through contacts got a job as a chef in Japan. “I was just like a coolie there, working in the kitchen, but I learnt a lot about farming techniques in my spare time, and kept dreaming of the day I would return to Nepal with savings in my pocket,” says Tulachan. But it took him 16 long years to come back. &nbsp; But much more important than savings, he came back with a dream. In the beginning, like most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">returnees</a>, he struggled to adjust and find a meaningful job to pay for high living expenses. Then the Covid pandemic hit, and Tulachan fell ill.&nbsp; “I said to myself, why am I staying in the city when my home in the mountains is safe and a heaven on earth?” Tulachan recalls, his face wrinkled in a wide smile.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1313" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> <figcaption>He has combined his apple farm with an eco-tourism resort in the lap of Mt Nilgiri, added a cold store and expanded his orchard.</figcaption> </figure>  Tulachan’s dream was always to return to his native <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">Mustang</a>, Covid just made him bring the plan forward. What he has achieved since coming back is a remarkable example of passion, simple technical innovation and marketing skills transforming rural Nepal in just a few years. Improving on the knowledge about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tara-pariyar-s-karnali">apple farming</a> that he learnt from his father, Tulachan uses a high-density tall spindle farming method to grow apples vertically like vines rather than trees. The system improves productivity through early yield, better fruit quality, and reduced costs for care. Each plant produces more than a much bigger tree of the local Marpha variety, and the fruits fetch a higher price in markets in Pokhara and Kathmandu. In the past year, business has been so successful that Tulachan has expanded from the orchard he inherited from his father to buy and lease more property along the Kali Gandaki floodplain. He is also helping neighbouring farms in Tukuche, Marpha and Jomsom to adopt the new technique. “It does not make sense only for me to do well, the whole community needs to benefit,” says Tulachan. “What is most important is self-fulfillment and happiness, I can’t take my money with me when I die.” And Tulachan is happiest among his apple trees. He is up at the crack of dawn and with his garden shears is off for a morning of pruning, training and grafting apple plants. He has built his own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/access-to-water-changes-the-face-of-rural-nepal">irrigation system</a> channeling water from a nearby stream. Learning from his Japan stay, he has also established a ryokan-style inn called Mustang Eco Hill Resort by the Pokhara-Jomsom highway with a restaurant serving organic produce from his farm, and a gift shop.&nbsp; A new addition to Tulachan’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">eco-tourism</a> and apple orchard venture is a cold storage which evens out the autumn glut after the apple harvest when prices are low, so the fruits fetch a higher price in April-May.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1166" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> </figure>  “If you want to get rich quick, this is not your line of business,” warns Tulachan, walking between neat rows of tall spindle apple stems to check on his drip irrigation system. “You have to be patient, and plan ten years into the future.” His Japanese high density apple variety takes only three years to ripen, compared to 15 years for local trees. Presently, the farm harvests 18 tons of apple every season, and with the new plants in his expanded farm, Tulachan expects 40 tons. The farm makes Rs3.5 million in profit every year, which goes for upkeep, servicing loans and upgrading his inn.&nbsp; Traders now come all the way from Kathmandu to book Tulachan’s apples. His apple varieties sell for Rs400 per kg at Bhatbhateni department stores, more than three times more than the traditional Marpha variety. A flag of Nepal flutters proudly in the afternoon wind on the roof of the Mustang Eco Hill Resort, and Tulachan says Nepalis who stop at his farm marvel that there is a place like this in Nepal. He has set an example that it is possible to run a profitable business and create jobs despite the government. He says: “There is no point blaming the government, we can do a lot by ourselves. If they just scaled up what I have done here to the national level by investing in tourism, agriculture and hydropower, Nepal can also be prosperous.”

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Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government

Decades of media stereotyping has given the Karnali a bad rap for &nbsp;chronic hunger and poverty, but at least one woman in this remote region has shown that this need not be so.&nbsp; Pariyar’s husband and two relatives were killed during the Maoist conflict 20 years ago. The responsibility for taking care of her three children and in-laws fell on her young shoulders. &nbsp; When we met her earlier this month in Jumla’s Lihi village, 42-year-old Pariyar was in her apple orchard. The trees were heavy with fruit, and there was a fresh cool breeze blowing down from snow-capped Kanjiroba Himal.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/milking-every-opportunity">Milking every opportunity</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_ba7ceda3c995d633becf080d1596648f034072c11535bfe1c6cae6666bd21b15.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023061212068_ba7ceda3c995d633becf080d1596648f034072c11535bfe1c6cae6666bd21b15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1550" height="1034" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  The orchard has allowed Pariyar to earn a decent income to turn her life around, and single-handedly care for her family and community. The apples sell for Rs60 per kg, and one season’s income is enough to support the household for the whole year: food, clothing, children’s education.&nbsp; As a single mother from the Dalit community, Tara Pariyar had to constantly struggle against caste and gender discrimination in this culturally conservative area. Added to this was the stigma of widowhood.&nbsp; And till five years ago, she knew nothing about apple cultivation. She was a day labourer in a farm, and believed that owning an apple orchard was only for rich farmers since it required a lot of investment, the trees took five years to bear fruit and the crop could be destroyed by disease or hailstorms. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tale-of-a-modern-day-lahure">Tale of a modern day lahure</a>, Uday Bahadur Baniya  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_9676466ac505c24fb7a9fc4e741a4ca34e042fb53beb941cf345cfe9643d9ce9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023061212068_9676466ac505c24fb7a9fc4e741a4ca34e042fb53beb941cf345cfe9643d9ce9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2339" height="1560" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Climate change had also altered the weather pattern, prolonged winter drought affected apple trees that needed snow to flower in spring. She was convinced apple cultivation was too risky for someone with limited means like her. All that changed with the government’s insurance scheme in Humla, Mugu and Jumla districts for apple and other cash crops. Suddenly, farmers did not have to worry about losing their crop and Pariyar took the leap. Under the scheme, the government pays 80% of the annual premium and the farmers bear the rest. The UN’s World Food Programme (WFP) distributed families with up to 25 apple saplings each to get their orchards started. Pariyar already had five apple trees, and she bought another 20 saplings to grow 50 trees. Then she insured some of them for Rs40 per tree per year with Shikhar Insurance. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/feminising-farm-based-firms">Feminising farm-based firms</a>, Shristi Karki&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FyAoPe6KllSQ&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> The company compensates farmers for drought if precipitation in Jumla is less than 70mm from March-May, like this year. Which is why Pariyar received Rs4,500 in insurance payout, and she ploughed it back into her business, buying 40 more apple saplings.&nbsp; “Because climate change has made the rains so unpredictable, apple farming can be very risky, which is why I was hesitant at first, but insuring the trees made business sense, and it has lifted my family’s status,” Pariyar says. &nbsp; Her first apple harvest last year was 200kg, from which she made Rs12,000 income. But this year, with 100 fully grown trees, she hopes to sell up to 1,300kg for Rs74,000. She has her fingers crossed that there will not be one of those fierce spring hailstorms that Jumla Valley is famous for. All this income has helped her pay for her elder son Munal to learn Korean and the younger one, Upahar, to finish Grade 11 in Surkhet. Her daughter Sharada is already married. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs/">Staying in Nepal to create jobs</a>, Naresh Newar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_9fb4ddcb1fbedc5e956b7682c49dbba59a078f68d3f99e7b5a3c185c41026ba4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023061212068_9fb4ddcb1fbedc5e956b7682c49dbba59a078f68d3f99e7b5a3c185c41026ba4" data-rendition-name="original" width="2386" height="1591" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Income from apple farming has given Pariyar the confidence to also raise chickens and breed rabbits. The local variety of chicken are much sought after for their taste, and she can sell those for Rs800 each, while rabbit meat is catching on and they fetch Rs600.&nbsp; Besides this, Pariyar is also carrying on her family tradition of growing rice and buckwheat in a small plot of land a steep one hour walk up the mountain from her home. Although the harvest is not much, it does mean she does not have to buy the staples.&nbsp; All the work on the farm has taken its toll. Tara’s face is wrinkled, the soles of her feet have hardened with callus because of working barefoot in the fields.&nbsp; “I don’t mind how they look, at least I can provide for my family, and after all, isn’t this the reality of life in the Himalaya?” she asks with a bright smile.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/money-grows-on-trees-here/" target="_blank">Money grows on trees here</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230612120612_d71b91179db3fbda7001242d0d7c407674bbc8a80a9ca240b5e26369f535b71a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230612120612_d71b91179db3fbda7001242d0d7c407674bbc8a80a9ca240b5e26369f535b71a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1182" height="789" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Despite this, Pariyar finds time to help her community with a WFP supported lift irrigation program to pump water up from the Tila River to fields along the valley. The cash for work program earns her additional income. The community recognises Tara Pariyar’s struggle and sacrifice to provide for her family, and she has become a source of inspiration for her Lihi village. Last month she was in Surkhet for WFP’s 60th anniversary to share her experience so that farmers like her in Karnali can learn from her success. “All this did not come easy,” Pariyar says, “it was a long struggle. Eighteen years ago, I saw my husband being killed before my eyes, and two other members of my family.” Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-farmers-reap-what-they-sow-and-more"> Nepal’s farmers reap what they sow, and more</a>, Marissa Taylor  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_5c18a3ffdbc0959749b91fdaabd0071d87030c8955bad107a72bc23d14e5fa5e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2023061212068_5c18a3ffdbc0959749b91fdaabd0071d87030c8955bad107a72bc23d14e5fa5e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1407" height="940" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Tara’s husband Harilal had been forcibly recruited by the Maoists. One monsoon night in 2002, Royal Nepal Army soldiers on patrol came into the village, and Harilal fled up the mountain to hide.&nbsp; Tara had told her husband not to run away since he was not a Maoist. The next morning while she was in the kitchen, the sound of gunfire echoed in the surrounding mountains. She ran outside to see her husband being led away by soldiers, who then shot him dead. She fainted, and by the time she came to learn that the soldiers had already buried her husband on the banks of the Tila. &nbsp; He brother-in-law Khadka had been killed by the army, and he sister-in-law Sopana was raped and killed a year earlier. After their two sons were killed, Tara’s mother-in-law and father-in-law became mentally ill and she had the added burden of taking care of them.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/delay-dilute-deny">Delay, dilute, deny</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_9843c87f685b1fdb773729c90435b68aeca1ec908ebfad9c770909ce243e91bf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2023061212068_9843c87f685b1fdb773729c90435b68aeca1ec908ebfad9c770909ce243e91bf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1555" height="1037" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Tara went into deep depression after all this, and even tried to kill herself. But it was the thought of leaving behind three young children that brought her back from the brink. Munal Pariyar has memories as a child of his mother facing constant taunts from neighbours. How she would go hungry to be able to afford to educate him and his siblings, while facing social ostracisation in the village for being a Dalit and a widow.&nbsp; “It was a very difficult time, people would come to the house, say unkind things and make our mother cry all the time,” Munal recalls. “But she was like a pillar for us. We had no other support.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/a-parliamentarian-s-apple-grove">A parliamentarian’s apple grove</a>, Muesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_c2db5371b4b5749b3f69d125aaf7be008dc2b94444782213b265f9750df393b0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2023061212068_c2db5371b4b5749b3f69d125aaf7be008dc2b94444782213b265f9750df393b0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1555" height="1037" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  But today, villagers who used to spit on Tara and consider it inauspicious to even pass her by on the road come to her for advice on apple farming, insurance and irrigation.&nbsp; Tara Pariyar is happy she has set an example for women to be independent, but says gender and caste discrimination is still common in Jumla.&nbsp; She remembers Maoist guerrillas using cruel words to tell her she would have to live as a widow if her husband did not join the militia. She became a widow anyway. Those former guerrillas are now all in Kathmandu, and the country’s prime minister is a Maoist. Says Tara with a wry smile: “One day I would like to go to Kathmandu to see for myself why the Maoists from here have all gone there, and what is so special about that place.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-last-men-standing">The last men standing</a>, Daman Rai

Tara Pariyar’s Karnali

https://youtu.be/etwE_snoB7AWhile Nepal’s Members of Parliament are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-human-cost-of-nepals-political-deadlock/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">squabbling among themselves</a> chasing contracts and lobbying for ministerships in Kathmandu, Polden Chopang Gurung is busy tending to his apple orchard in Ngisyang village of Manang district, and arranging relief for flash flood survivors in the region.Gurung is the chairperson of the Manang chapter of the UML and was elected to the House of Representatives after he broke into the district’s Congress stronghold during the 2017 elections.“I am a representative of the people of Ngisyang, so there is no reason I have to be in Kathmandu in order for me to do my job,” says Gurung with a shrug, “I can serve my constituents from right here.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11b89c7e80680e0a989djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Gurung’s home district of Manang has been plagued by disasters of late, with the region seeing a seven-month winter drought last year, followed by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/wildfires-ravage-nepal-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wildfires</a> in the spring that burnt entire mountainsides near Chame for three months. Then the monsoon hit the semi-arid district in the Himalayan rain shadow with 300% above average precipitation resulting in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come/">devastating floods and landslides</a> in mid-June.In the wake of the disaster, Gurung has been actively involved in helicopter rescues of his constituents trapped by the landslides, as well as in the rebuilding of Manang’s disrupted road infrastructure.But even during more normal times, when Parliament is not in session in Kathmandu, Gurung can be found tending to his apple orchard at his home in Ngisyang. “I use whatever free time I have to take care of my apple orchard,” he says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11bd9c7e80680e0a989ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048">Gurung credits his father for inspiring him to come back to Manang despite having the opportunity and reason to stay in the capital. Like him, his father Pema Chhiring Gurung was an MP and an Assistant Minister for Local Development during the Panchayat era.But Pema Chhiring was first and foremost a farmer, and had started an apple orchard in Manang 45 years ago.“My father always told us that he had tried his best to raise us and to be of help in his community,” recalls Gurung. “He asked that we continue to do the same for our village that he had devoted his entire life to.”Pema Chhiring had built his apple orchard out of land collectively owned by seven Manang villages. Residents of the villages worked in the orchard and distributed the profit amongst themselves.Eventually, the work ceased to yield any profit, and the land was rented out.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11c29c7e80680e0a989fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/growing-apples-on-a-war-footing/">Growing apples on a war-footing</a>, Mukesh PokhrelNow, his son’s apple orchard is spread over 37 hectares of land in Manang. Gurung obtained the plot when his Manang Agro Company won an open competition six years ago that allowed him to lease the land by paying a yearly sum of Rs5.8 million.Gurung’s orchard is crammed with apple trees, saplings of which were brought from Italy and Serbia. And the yield is plentiful, with 600,000 kgs of apples expected to be harvested this year. Over the next three years, Gurung’s target is to produce 1.7 million kgs of apples annually.Nepal spent Rs243 billion in food imports in the fiscal year 2019/20, an increase of Rs19 billion from the previous fiscal year. Two-thirds of Nepalis depend on agriculture, but Nepal’s annual food imports are increasing exponentially due to a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-less-and-less-able-to-feed-itself/">growing population and rising income</a>.Of total food imports, Nepal spends upwards of Rs13 billion annually on apple imports. Which is why Gurung believes that there is a huge domestic market for Manang's apples, provided supply can meet demand and there is access to markets. If the fruits themselves do not sell, there is significant demand for products like apple juice, wine and candy.In fact, the demand for apple seedlings from other mountain districts of Jumla, Huma, and Mugu has gone up ever since Gurung began buying better quality saplings that resulted in higher yields.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11c59c7e80680e0a98a0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048">Gurung tells us that he would rather be recognised as an apple farmer from Manang than an MP in Nepal’s political arena.He adds: “My father told us not to forget our roots, and that individual wealth and happiness held little meaning in the grand scheme of things. So I decided to return home, and build on his legacy.”Translated by Shristi Karki from <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/126267">the Nepali original</a> published on himalkhabar.comRead also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang/">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel

A parliamentarian’s apple grove

Climate change has unleashed floods, but also allowed apple and vegetable farming in what used to be a desert<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636516fd9c7e80680e02c24ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>80-year-old Karma Gurung of Tiri village had never seen a flood before</figcaption></figure>It hardly rains in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19611#.WrOj2h1ubIU">Upper Mustang</a>, the district of Nepal located beyond the Himalaya which juts out into the Tibetan Plateau.Rain is rare here, and floods even rarer. So when the stream next to her village of Tiri burst its banks five years ago, it was the first time 80-year-old Karma Gurung had ever seen a flood.The heavy rains and flood had killed a migrant worker from Lamjung, and few livestock.“It came suddenly, without warning and I lost 15 cows, ten goats and two horses,” recalls Norbu Gurung, pointing to how high the muddy water and boulders had reached.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517009c7e80680e02c24bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517049c7e80680e02c24cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Konju Gurung lost a chunk of his nearby <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9266#.WrOpYh1ubIV">apple farm</a>, which used to earn him Rs100,000 a year. Today, there are only huge boulders and sand where there used to be fruit trees.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/preparing-for-the-big-flood,3190">Flash floods</a>, which used to be rare in this part of the Himalayan rain shadow, are becoming more frequent as weather patterns become more erratic. In the past decade, the people of Mustang suffered winter droughts, unseasonal snowfalls and cloudbursts.The geology of the area is made up of pre-historic deposits of sand and boulders, and with no trees to hold the topsoil together, these are easily dislodged by heavy rains.It was 1 Jun 2015 when it started raining heavily in Marpha village along the Kali Gandaki. The monsoon rains were not due for another three weeks, but the freak storm dumped a huge amount of rain in the surrounding mountains, sending a wall of liquefied mud down a tributary of the Kali Gandaki.“It had been raining heavily, and all of a sudden there was this thunderous noise as rocks the size of houses were washed down in a sea of mud,” recalls Bhakti Hirachan, 77. The flood damaged 25 houses in Marpha and the scar of the flood can still be seen from the village.A few months later in August, floods came again and destroyed houses and fields in Jong village. Indeed, floods have become commonplace in what used to be arid Mustang.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517079c7e80680e02c24djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/6365170b9c7e80680e02c24ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Villagers here say the weather has ‘gone mad’ in the past 20 years, and blame the wrath of the gods. Few here have heard of global warming and how scientists now believe it has made extreme rainfall and extended periods of droughts more common.Climate expert Ngamindra Dahal explains: “There is increasing evidence that global warming has lead to more cloud build-up along the Himalaya, and this is leading to intense storms and creating erratic monsoons and winter rains in Mustang.”Besides flash floods, the uncertain weather is also affecting local crops like buckwheat, barley and corn. Farmer Chiring Pemba Gurung of Jong village says his harvests have gone down by half in the last two years.“Winter snow is good for the spring crop, but for the past two years we hardly had any winter snow, and when it does snow it comes in the spring planting season,” says Chiring Pemba.Ironically, while the weather is creating havoc, long-term change in the climate has allowed vegetables and fruits to grow where they previously could not. There are now apple farms in Upper Mustang, and farmers are switching to cabbage and cauliflowers, which used to be unheard of.“There never used to be apple up there, now you can have orchards in Jharkot, Khinga, Dhe and other areas of Upper Mustang,” says Balkrishna Adhikari who is helping farmers here through the Apple Farm Centre.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/6365170f9c7e80680e02c24fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517129c7e80680e02c250jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Meanwhile in the famous apple growing areas of Marpha and Tatopani to the south, new diseases like red spider mite, woolly aphids, and white grub have destroyed many orchards. “It is getting too hot for apple trees in Marpha, and the regions of upper Mustang are becoming more suitable because of climate change,” Adhikari explains.Chiring Pemba Gurung planted 180 apple trees in his new orchard in Jong village, where apples never used to grow. He is confident that the new investment will increase his farm earnings in five years time.Climate change is a mixed blessing here in Mustang. While it has unleashed floods and disasters, the warming trend has also allowed orchards and farms to move up to what used to be barren mountains.Says Kusum Thakali, 77, in Jomsom: “The snow doesn’t fall when it is supposed to, it rains too much at other times, bringing floods, but now we can also practice farming where we never used to be able to.”Read also<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17269#.WrOgtR1ubIU">Climate refugees in Mustang</a> , From the Nepali Press<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/mustang">Mystical Mustang in the monsoon</a> <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/mustang-safe-for-trekking-post-quake,2416">,  Stéphane Huët</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/the-last-yak-herder-of-dhe-review,1469">Climate refugees</a>Plants move up the mountains to escape the heatGlobal warming is melting the Himalaya twice as fast as the rest of the planet, and the most vivid proof of this are rapidly shrinking glaciers and the receding snowline. However, there is another less evident trend, and that is the movement of native plant species up the mountains to escape the heat.Recent research in the Indian and Nepal Himalaya examined plants growing from 60m above sea level up to 6,000m, which showed an upward migration of plants as global warming increased average temperatures across the mountains.Sub-tropical weeds and ferns growing in the low valleys of Sikkim and Kashmir are now found in higher elevations. The journal Nature recently reported that the flowering and fruiting cycles of pear and apple trees have changed over the last 50 years as have their size, colour and taste. Pine species in India’s Himachal Pradesh have moved 1,000m up the slopes in the last three decades, the magazine said. Even moss and lichen are said to be found higher up the mountains as snow cover recedes.Many of the species which cannot adapt by moving higher could eventually become extinct. There is also an upper limit to how far plants can move since there is no topsoil at extreme altitudes to support plant life.

Mixed blessings in Mustang

Nepal showed inconsistent performance at the T20 World Cup 2026 in Mumbai with flashes of brilliance, but ultimately snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rhinos-hit-the-ground-running">near-win against England</a>, a test cricket team by an associate country, in the opening game showed promise and suggested that Nepal’s cricket was on the cusp of glory. The Nepal Premier League and a flawless performance in the qualifiers had raised hopes that perhaps the Rhinos could progress out of the group stage. However, subsequent losses against newcomers Italy and the West Indies were harsh reality checks about the true state of the game: there is a lot of catching up to do in the present, and structural changes to put in place to win big in the future. Head Coach Stuart Law summed it all up quite harshly: “To go from that high to then go to an extreme low four days later, that’s not showing mental toughness.” He was worried about the distraction of social media and lack of focus among players: “When you’re in cricket, do your cricket. It’s a difficult one for me because I’m a social media dinosaur, I don’t understand it. You don’t have to keep showing your face if we’re winning games.” Finally a late-night win against Scotland on Tuesday redeemed some of Nepal’s pride. A strong opening partnership, yet another rugged Dipendra Singh Airee innings and Sompal Kami’s vindictive 3 for 25 helped Nepal beat Scotland in their last group game at the T20 World Cup.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_6ca369f6aefc8b653c2572467f050e96b029c96b71fed5fb4213898c7d469325.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260218010220_6ca369f6aefc8b653c2572467f050e96b029c96b71fed5fb4213898c7d469325" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  There was nothing riding on the game but honour, it means at least that Nepal do not crash out on zero. The game ebbed and flowed. Scotland started well and looked set to score 200 before collapsing in the end at 170. The Nepal batting effort also started out well, but in the middle overs after some wickets had fallen, it looked like the team was whimpering out again. Boundaries dried up, the run rate creeped up to almost 13, before Airee and Jha woke up and took charge and got to 171 with a few balls to spare. The dhaka topi crowd in the stands loved it. A big part of the reason Nepal’s performance was so much better against England than in the other games was the mentality going in. Against England, Nepal were clear underdogs and could play freely. Even a nasty defeat would have been forgiven. Against newcomers Italy, these roles were flipped. Fans and perhaps the players underestimated Italy, a nation much better known for its football culture. But it had put together a smart, experienced team made up of Italian cricketers with South African, Australian, English, Indian, Pakistani and Sri Lankan heritage. And Nepal may have won a series against West Indies last year, but against the full strength Caribbean squad they were easily beaten.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_dc27adaa2102b493f940a97f9572769e695c2c1c41c8558fc4c23657cc1c3261.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260218010220_dc27adaa2102b493f940a97f9572769e695c2c1c41c8558fc4c23657cc1c3261" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  Another key difference is that Nepal was batting second against England. Against Italy and the West Indies, having to set a target rather than chase it, there was miserable batting failure. The front of the order — openers Kushal Bhurtel and Aasif Sheikh, captain Rohit Poudel — did not pace themselves well. They started much too slow, not able to take advantage of the first six powerplay overs. Airee’s 58 and Sompal Kami’s 26 off 11 against the West Indies were the only innings of any note. The middle order of Bam, Jha, Aarif Sheikh was not much better. Nepal really struggled with the ball too in that game, taking the one wicket against the West Indies and none against Italy. Of course, it is a huge ask of your bowling attack to defend anything below 150 in the modern T20 game. There were questionable tactical choices. Early wickets are essential when defending a low score. But key wicket taker Sandeep Lamichhane was not brought on until the middle overs, when the opponents had made too many runs to feel any fear. So they took him on and he had a really poor tournament, going for a lot of runs.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_b0301b854ddf235e1bcb84e8ed58060a68c8f3f13d3bb5a7596e1f51184e0d03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260218010220_b0301b854ddf235e1bcb84e8ed58060a68c8f3f13d3bb5a7596e1f51184e0d03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  To captain Poudel’s credit, he acknowledged the bad showing against Italy: “It was not a 123 all-out wicket. We are professionals and not turning up for the game was disappointing.” Coach Law thinks that Nepal is going to get to the next step. If the team is ambitious, and hopes to compete at the elite level, then it cannot celebrate a loss against England. If it wants to win consistently, it has to shed the ‘Cardiac Kids’ nickname. It is better to win than to be fun to watch but lose. The T20 game is so brisk and so it is often won in the margins. Good catching and fielding can create momentum and save a team the 5, 10 runs that win the game. Nepal were uncharacteristically poor in the field against Italy and West Indies, often fumbling and leaking boundaries. Airee didn’t get any of his usual run-outs either. Nepal lost cheap wickets through run-outs and stumpings. All these unforced errors right through the match add up on the scoreboard.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_1630c283f277631dfbddd3d7f29b930b124bde97c8f6a411cc2e1d089e452f45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260218010220_1630c283f277631dfbddd3d7f29b930b124bde97c8f6a411cc2e1d089e452f45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  SKILL SET Mentality is important but sport performance ultimately comes down to skill. There looked to be a large gap, and perhaps one of the reasons is because the Nepal team is so full of all-rounders. Airee’s two-way performance is undeniable, but Bhurtel, Paudel and Karan KC do plenty of both too and they do not do it super well very often. If the team wants to get consistent, it must have consistent performers with the bat and ball. That calls for some of these players to focus completely on one skill over the other. You do not see openers bowling so much in the top teams as Bhurtel does. The main reason for this skill gap, and one of the hardest parts about being an associate nation, is how little cricket the members of the team play compared to the test nations. Said Stuart Law: “The longer format is where you learn how to play the game. The shorter formats are where you have your fun. We need some sort of multi-day games.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_652ef3ba6fceab394a94c18cabd322dca8ba4a1266557660064339de9169c91d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260218010220_652ef3ba6fceab394a94c18cabd322dca8ba4a1266557660064339de9169c91d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  The contrast in experience showed during the Italy game. Most of the members of the Italy team were well into their thirties, had played a high volume of domestic cricket and were more self-assured. So, while the young Nepali team were more athletic, they seemed to lack the skill and experience to know what to do when things were going wrong. The Italians seemed to go about their game with a lot more self assurance. In the long run, this means setting up grassroot structures, getting kids into formal training when young, and setting up a longer format domestic league. In the short term, CAAN could organise frequent series with other associate nations, and individual athletes could go play long form club cricket abroad. Surely some team in the world has to have a spot for a player like Airee, for example. It has been Airee’s tournament. Scores of 44 v England, 58 v West Indies, and now a match-winning 50 against Scotland that gives the travelling Nepali support something to cheer for. The tournament could have been a lot more, but it is wholesome to end on a win.

Nepal goes in and out of T20

After his critically acclaimed 2023 book of essays सुन्यताको मुल्य on the state of women and children in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-karnali">Karnali</a>, paediatrician and writer Nawaraj KC has come out with a next one, Swasparsh. The new book is almost a sequel to the first one, with real-life stories drawn from his medical practice and social engagement. Both are powerful accounts of suffering, resilience, and the search for human dignity in Nepal’s most remote and underserved districts. The book opens with deeply disturbing yet real incidents of the suicide of a Grade 2 student. A &nbsp;frantic mother rushes in with a son who had already written a suicide note but was saved at the last moment. There is a desperate call from a young woman threatening to jump into the Karnali River.&nbsp; We meet children carrying immense trauma: a toddler who refuses to eat after losing her mother, and another child who stops speaking after experiencing sexual abuse within the family. The emotional climax comes when KC himself falls into depression after being violently attacked by a drug addict patient, leaving him with a serious head injury.&nbsp; But this is not a book of only sad stories of deprivation and poverty. It is how people who find themselves in the worst circumstances struggle to overcome what life has thrown their way, and triumph in the end. By just surviving against all odds, people emerge stronger, often with a renewed commitment to helping others. As a paediatrician working out of his native Surkhet in Karnali Province, KC's work brings him face-to-face with the human side of what a centralised government’s neglect and apathy can do to communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-dasain-in-kalikot">Nepal’s most far-flung region</a>. KC shows empathy not just to human beings in trouble, but also animals and underlines the importance of coexisting with the natural world. By helping others individuals ultimately help themselves. Although a paediatrician by profession, KC demonstrates a deep understanding of structural oppression, gender discrimination, caste hierarchy, class inequality, and regional marginalisation within the Nepali state.&nbsp; He also captures moments of tenderness, such as young couples supporting one another through hardship. How poverty can drive families to take heartbreaking decisions — like a patient forced to discontinue life-saving medicine in order to qualify for disability allowances needed to repay debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260217030252_ffd67815063cffe51a0310f10405a554f6094ba05564993f34086fe4b31543f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260217030252_ffd67815063cffe51a0310f10405a554f6094ba05564993f34086fe4b31543f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1646" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Swasparsha"> </figure>  A former teacher is forced to beg despite receiving treatment, exposing the failure of conventional development models that ignore sustainable livelihoods.&nbsp; Then there are inspirational stories like the one of Mandire, who ran away at age 12 to work as a labourer in India, suffered severe burns while unloading coal, and lost a hand. Despite this, his infectious smile and fortitude transformed him into a local symbol of hope both in India and Nepal.&nbsp; Even in old age, he is always smiling and helping others less fortunate.&nbsp; Through Mandire’s story, KC explores the science of the healing power of a smile, the positive psychology of a ‘mental gymnasium’ in which optimism is cultivated through conscious practice.&nbsp; For example, a young girl from the historically marginalised Badi community which faces deep social exclusion refuses to accept her circumstances, and grows into an advocate for other disadvantaged children. A devoted foster mother dedicates her life to raising orphans, empowering them despite her own hardships. One of the book’s strengths lies in its accessibility. In Nepali language, KC blends science, philosophy, and lived experience into everyday language that resonates with villagers and ordinary readers. He comes across not only as a doctor and healer, but also as a teacher, nature lover, and social activist. He tries to introduce greenery to a remote school, and how this transformed children’s learning experience. He reflects that his patients are his greatest teachers helping to expand knowledge beyond medicine and technology into the realms of humanity and ethics. I read Swasparsh after witnessing the recent GenZ movement. The book’s recurring calls to youth, appearing at the end of several chapters, has special relevance today. KC reminds young readers that hardship is part of everyday life, but within struggle lies the potential for healing and growth.&nbsp; He encourages self-reflection, self-healing, and cultivating a positive mindset. Above all, he asserts that humanity’s greatest gift is its own human capacity henceforth solutions to all problems lie within oneselves rather than outside forces. The GenZ movement represents an urban youth revolt against traditional political parties and state institutions that have failed to deliver opportunities and accountability. Rising unemployment, widespread corruption, and frustration with stagnant governance have fuelled demands for new political alternatives.&nbsp; With the 5 March election less than three weeks away, many young people hope that new forces will be capable of bringing systemic change. Yet whether these forces can truly meet their aspirations remains uncertain. Established political actors are reluctant to relinquish power, while emerging groups often lack organisational depth and historical experience. In many ways, these new political actors resemble the people of Karnali: resource-poor, And in the periphery of power, yet rich in commitment and determination. Drawing from Buddhist teachings that recognise suffering, understanding its causes, and seeking pathways to overcome it, KC indirectly inspires today’s youth. Every problem contains the seeds of its own solution, provided we learn to know ourselves, care for ourselves, and care for others. Ultimately, the title Swasparsh means self-healing, self-reflection, and self-confidence. At a time of political uncertainty and generational change, this book speaks directly to Nepal’s younger and the emerging alternative forces — reminding them that transformation begins from within.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026021704020_1d2a855730bc14acbea596cce7b3a00b20f85c79c3a7d8ca46274a15eb642f59.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026021704020_1d2a855730bc14acbea596cce7b3a00b20f85c79c3a7d8ca46274a15eb642f59" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Swasparsha"> </figure>  Hisila Yami served as CA member, Minister of Physical Planning &amp; Works, Minister of Tourism &amp; Minister of Land Reform. At present, she is a member of Central Political Council in Pragatishil Loktantrik Party and is a lecturer in IOE Pulchok.

Essays on self-realisation and self-healing

Chronic winter drought and decades of unmanaged forest biomass have turned wildfires into a systemic risk for Nepal. We need to re-learn to convert fire fuel in forests into fertilizer for crops.&nbsp; On 11 January, a huge forest fire spread rapidly from China into the forests of Sindhupalchok, 40km northeast of Kathmandu. The newly-opened Tatopani border checkpoint was closed. Smoke from the fire spread across central Nepal, blocking the sun.&nbsp; The fire burnt itself out within a few days, but the border stayed closed for longer. Such wildfires were once rare in mid-winter, and traditionally peaked between March and May as temperatures rose ahead of pre-monsoon showers. What is unsettling is not just the early onset of the fires, but also their scale. This shift is not accidental, the pattern has been unfolding over years due to winter drought, weakening post-monsoon moisture, and the accumulation of dry forest biomass as Nepal’s forest area doubled in the past 30 years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009024_5f4a84bb389f9b56f4fa47d4f694adcd464eb13b192d184af0f1eb20efdfeebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026022009024_5f4a84bb389f9b56f4fa47d4f694adcd464eb13b192d184af0f1eb20efdfeebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1055" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>A NASA FIRMS image of Nepal with red dots signifying fires in February 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  Together, these factors have made forests tinder dry in spring, just waiting for a spark. Nepal has experienced winter drought in eight of the past ten years (this winter was an exception). Winter rain and snow at higher elevations play a decisive role in maintaining surface moisture, recharging shallow aquifers, and keeping forest floors damp enough to resist ignition. When winter rains fail, forests dry out months earlier than usual. Satellite-based assessments show a steep decline in surface moisture across the middle mountains of Nepal, particularly in areas with dense forest cover but limited undergrowth management. Springs that once flowed year-round are now seasonal.&nbsp; More than half of the springs in the mid-hills have either dried up or show significantly reduced discharge, a trend closely linked to declining soil moisture and disrupted recharge zones. Dry soil does not just threaten water security — it helps the vegetation ignite. FUEL WITHOUT FUNCTION For decades, Nepal’s forests have been accumulating dry leaf litter, fallen branches, shrubs, and deadwood. Historically, this biomass was not considered waste because rural households regularly collected leaf litter for livestock bedding, which was later composted and returned to farms as fertilizer.&nbsp; Forest floors were therefore relatively clean while the mulch fertilized farms. That relationship has steadily eroded due to outmigration, changes in livestock systems, restrictions on access to community forests, and the growing availability of chemical fertilisers.&nbsp; Community forests across the country today are thick with dry twigs, branches and leaves — a highly combustible carpet. When prolonged drought dries this biomass, even a small spark from a herder’s intentional fire, a cigarette, or lightning strike can trigger massive fires.&nbsp; Under such conditions, the question is no longer whether fires will occur, but how intense and widespread they will be. Forest fires are often framed as an environmental issue concerning trees and wildlife. In reality, their impact extends far beyond forest boundaries.&nbsp; Smoke travels faster and further than flames. Fine particulate matter, especially harmful PM2.5, spreads across countries. In recent fire seasons, air quality monitors in Kathmandu have recorded air quality levels several times higher than WHO guidelines. The smoke adds to Kathmandu’s own pollution and lingers for days.&nbsp; Flights are cancelled or delayed in cities like Pokhara, and poor visibility blocks mountain views affecting tourism. Health facilities report spikes in respiratory complaints, particularly among children and the elderly. Just as wildfires have multi-sectoral causes, the impact of forest fires go beyond forests. One critical dimension remains largely invisible: the soil. The fires cause silent damage beneath the ash, and the emergency does not end when the flames subside. Beneath the surface, soil suffers long-term damage. Organic matter burns away, beneficial microorganisms die. The soil structure weakens, reducing the land’s ability to absorb and retain water. The scorched earth is more prone to erosion, increasing the risk of floods and landslides once the rains return.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009028_cc54ff056b2cac8b789cfd4d11afef9eaf943368e47b99aabd57c7b63b776cf2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026022009028_cc54ff056b2cac8b789cfd4d11afef9eaf943368e47b99aabd57c7b63b776cf2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1717" height="2143" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>Wildfire risk map based on the validated Random Forest model (a) Overall reclassified wildfire risk map of Nepal, (b) District level wildfire risk, and (c) Municipality wildfire risk map.</figcaption> </figure>  In many of Nepal’s agricultural areas, soil organic matter levels are already below 2% -- lower than what is needed for resilient and productive farming. Repeated fires push these levels even lower, undermining soil fertility and forcing farmers to rely more heavily on chemical fertilisers, unleashing a vicious cycle of higher costs and food insecurity.&nbsp; Climate breakdown is often cited as the primary culprit, and rightly so. Rising temperatures and erratic rainfall have intensified fire risk. But fires in Nepal are increasingly the result of human intervention.&nbsp; The response of all three levels of government remains too little, and too reactive. Each year, resources are mobilised to extinguish fires once they have already spread. Far less attention is paid to managing the fuel load within forest undergrowth that makes such fires inevitable.&nbsp; Meanwhile, forestry and agriculture policies are not coordinated, missing opportunities to address shared challenges. Forest fires are not natural disasters, but predictable outcomes of governance choices. National plans and climate pledges set an ambitious target of raising soil organic matter to 4%. The science behind this goal is solid. Higher organic matter improves water retention, stabilises yields, reduces fertiliser dependence, and enhances long-term food security. What remains unclear is the pathway.&nbsp; Where will the organic inputs come from? How will they be processed and applied safely at scale? Without practical answers, the 4% target risks remaining aspirational rather than achievable. Forest undergrowth can be turned into fuel and fertiliser. Biochar is produced by heating organic biomass in a low-oxygen environment, converting it into a stable form of carbon that can be added to soil.&nbsp; When properly produced and applied, it improves soil structure, enhances water and nutrient retention, supports microbial activity, and locks carbon into the ground for decades. In Nepal biochar addresses two interconnected problems: reducing the accumulation of combustible biomass in forests, lowering fire risk, while simultaneously rebuilding depleted soils. In doing so, it restores the broken link between forest management and agriculture.&nbsp; Done well, biochar is not merely an environmental intervention. It is an economic one, with potential to create local employment, reduce farmers’ input costs, and support climate-smart agriculture. But biochar propagation depends on improved governance. If promoted as isolated pilots or short-term projects, it will fail. What is needed is institutional clarity: standards for production and safety, quality control mechanisms, farmer extension services, and coordination across local, provincial, and federal levels.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009028_e6e2218f38fae5b1fe81d9f99078fe01f58d04b4b3b2c41447f017c3f838a1d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026022009028_e6e2218f38fae5b1fe81d9f99078fe01f58d04b4b3b2c41447f017c3f838a1d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>Freshly prepared biochar under control tempature (350-600°C).</figcaption> </figure>  Community forest user groups could manage biomass collection. Local governments then support safe, decentralised production units. Agricultural extension services guide farmers on application, linked to soil testing and monitoring. Such an approach would reduce fire risk, improve soil health, and generate rural livelihoods.&nbsp; Poorly produced biochar or contaminated feedstock can harm soils and human health. Without training, standards, and oversight, good intentions can backfire. Nepal needs to move beyond fire-fighting to fire prevention and confront the structural causes that make them a growing risk. It is not just a technical choice – it is one that demands political will from newly-elected leaders after March. &nbsp;&nbsp; Ngamindra Dahal is a hydrometeorologist with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation specialising on climate and water management issues.&nbsp;

RED ALERT: Get ready for the wildfire season

There is a growing tendency to frame Nepal’s current political turmoil primarily through the language of Foreign Hands.
Across talk circuits and commentary today, Nepal’s unfolding crisis is increasingly being explained through external influence —foreign powers, hidden backers, geopolitical plots.
In a tense regional environment, this framing is understandable, but it also risks becoming a convenient shortcut. By looking outward first, it subtly shifts attention away from the harder, less comfortable work political parties and institutions have long postponed: internal reform, accountability, and rule-bound governance.
Three collapses in three decades and seven constitutions in as many decades should force us to pause for self-reflection. Add to this nearly thirty changes of government in just as many years.&nbsp;
Nepal’s democratic century, which began in 1950, has been marked by repeated conflicts, transitions, and crises. Not all of these can be explained by — or blamed on — &nbsp;forces from outside. This persistent finger pointing pattern indicates structural weaknesses at home.
Long before the September GenZ uprising, many observers (including myself) had been warning that Nepal was approaching a tipping point.&nbsp;
The concern was not foreign interference, but accumulated internal fragility: weak checks and balances, cartel-like party arrangements, politicised constitutional bodies, episodic accountability, and the near absence of credible, nonpartisan civic watchdogs.&nbsp;
Together, these produced a system operating at the edge of collapse. In such systems, small triggers — a protest, a ban, a spark — can produce cascading effects far beyond their immediate cause.
Explaining this rupture mainly through foreign influence can feel reassuring, but it ultimately absolves domestic actors of responsibility. External pressures do exist, but they become decisive only when internal institutions are already hollowed out and exposed.&nbsp;
When institutions are weak and compromised, outside forces stop dealing with the state as an institution and begin negotiating directly with individual political powerbrokers. At that point, sovereignty erodes quietly — not through invasion, but through leverage.
This is why the current obsession with identifying external hands risks missing the deeper lesson. The more revealing symptom may not be foreign maneuvering, but the ease with which, for example, militant cadres, informal networks, and extra-institutional actors are able to step in and exert influence, right under our nose during this election cycle. This is just the tip of the ever fragile institutional iceberg that needs tending.
CADRE MACHINES
As some have recently noted, these 'cadre machines' are not causes of the crisis so much as indicators of a broken system — filling a vacuum left by institutional decay.
Nepal’s deeper challenge, therefore, is not denying or ignoring outside influence. It is rebuilding the internal capacity that makes such influence less consequential: credible institutions, internal party democracy, transparent rules, and steady and independent civic oversight that operates beyond election cycles. Without this foundation, every crisis will continue to invite external interpretation — and external leverage.
Several recent essays on my Nepal Unplugged newsletter may be of interest to some: why Nepal’s current crisis is better understood through internal institutional fragility than through the language of 'foreign hands'. &nbsp;&nbsp;
Alok K. Bohara, PhD, is Emeritus Professor of Economics at the University of New Mexico, and writes his newsletter <a href="https://substack.com/@nepalunplugged">Nepal Unplugged</a> as an independent observer on Nepal’s socio-economic and political landscape. &nbsp;

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