Last month, Finance Minister Bishnu Paudel and Pokhara Mayor Dhanraj Acharya were burned when hydrogen-filled balloons exploded at the launch of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-s-tourism-woes">Pokhara Visit Year 2025</a>. Both were flown to Kathmandu for treatment. In 2023, Nepali Congress Member of Parliament (MP) Chandra Bhandari was severely burned in a kitchen fire. He was taken to India for treatment. His Rs5.6 million medevac and treatment bill was paid by the government. It took the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/burning-in-the-aftermath,3757"> burn injuries </a>of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-nepal-s-vip-prisoners-do-in-jail">high-profile figures </a>in Nepal to finally spark action on an issue that affects mainly the country’s poorest. “We call this the burns paradox,” says Kiran Nakarmi at the Nepal Cleft and Burn Centre at Kirtipur Hospital, where the Pokhara patients received care. “Treatment is costly and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19400">most victims are poor</a>."&nbsp; About 60,000 people suffer <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/removing-scars?fbclid=IwAR2MiX-ZhGNSsqUwgDYfvLWE3a7ZeLaHncz66MMKLQGtSSraTjr9cF5mIWo">burn injuries</a> in Nepal each year and 2,200 of them die. The demand for care in Kirtipur is growing.&nbsp; In 2014, it treated 90 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-burning-desire-to-help,881">burn patients</a> and this more than doubled to 194 in 2015, reached 373 in 2016, and peaked at 790 in 2023. Last year the Centre treated 753 patients, and in January alone this year it was 111. Ninety-two percent of cases come from outside Kathmandu from 75 districts,” says Nakarmi. “When we started it was 42%.”&nbsp; Ideally, burns treatment should be decentralised so that local levels have primary <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/altruistic-healthcare-models-in-nepal">burn care centres</a> no more than two hours away, where patients can get initial treatment like cooling and dressing of wounds, and fluid replacement. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/removing-scars?fbclid=IwAR3YJaMAa7AekbmwWYy3UlNnJkDj8XZk8qRxcagXd7Sl0M4m4SzolGs_0ow">Removing Scars</a>, Yugeshwor Koirala If necessary, they could be transferred to regional centres to handle surgery for minor burns. The government has already designated six such facilities across the country, and Nakarmi says the Centre could train their staff. He clicks forward on a slide to show a female patient brought in two months ago with her buttocks and thighs burned. “The wound was deep, it was not going to heal on its own. She needed some kind of graft.” If surgeons at a regional facility were properly trained, they could have done the graft. Instead, the patient waited for one month before coming to Kirtipur.&nbsp; Nakarmi is looking for funding for a 70-bed national burn care centre at Kirtipur Hospital, where patients can be isolated from the risk of infection that comes with sharing space in general wards. Another MP, Bindabasini Kansakar, is herself a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-acid-attack-survivors-find-a-saviour"> survivor of an acid attack </a>by a spurned suitor in 2013. She registered a Bill in Parliament last year that includes specialised burn units in all <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/devolution-for-development">government hospitals </a>with 100+ beds, and in some private hospitals and medical colleges in Kathmandu. She is also calling on the government to create a fund to give immediate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/justice-delayed-justice-denied-byrx8a1c">financial support to victims </a>and their families, discounts for women and children, especially from poorer communities, as well as training for health staff, twice yearly awareness programmes at local levels, and strong penalties to deter acid attacks and intentional burn injuries. Parliament’s delay in passing the Bill is ‘deeply frustrating, especially given my personal experience,’ Kansakar wrote to us.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250314110312_8d1a63b9d63d2ee0c116ffa1bc46e9a3aa5e63e7cdeeceb5a67fd7e772fbe957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250314110312_8d1a63b9d63d2ee0c116ffa1bc46e9a3aa5e63e7cdeeceb5a67fd7e772fbe957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1446" height="717" loading="lazy" alt="burn incidents in Nepal"> <figcaption>Member of Parliament Bindabasini Kansakar before an acid attack by a spurred suitor in 2013 (left), after, and now. </figcaption> </figure>  ‘I know first-hand the physical, emotional, and financial struggles<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18771"> burn victims </a>endure. Delays mean more victims are left without proper care, financial support, or legal protection,’ she added. ‘If burns affected wealthier or more influential communities, the response might have been swifter. This inequality is precisely why the Bill is so crucial — to ensure<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/justice-delayed-justice-denied-byrx8a1c"> justice and support for all victims</a>, regardless of their social standing.’ Burn incidents are the second most common injury in rural Nepal, according to the World Health Organization, and researcher Kamal Phuyal says that making just a handful of simple adjustments to everyday life could prevent most major burns. Before <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/ways-nepal-can-rebound-from-covid-19-2966ixvu">Covid-19</a>, he ran a research project in three municipalities in the mountains, hills and Tarai. After six months gathering data, the team told locals to make changes in their communities to prevent burns. For the next two and a half years, Phuyal worked with health staff, female community <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/enlisting-female-health-volunteers-to-fight-covid-19-b4qlgy1e">health volunteers</a> and other locals. In that time, the number of major burns in the three districts dropped from 21 to zero for two years running. The most effective change was to stop people from cooking on the ground. “If you can put the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">cooking stoves</a> just three feet (1m) off the ground, 50% of burns can be eliminated,” explains Phuyal.&nbsp; Nakarmi says that 70% of patients at Kirtipur Hospital, too, got burn injuries in the kitchen. “It should be the safest place to be, but it is the most unsafe,” she adds. Phuyal says<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/deputies-drive-development-in-rural-nepal"> local representatives</a> were convinced by his findings and, especially in Makwanpur, eager to make changes. He expected them to adopt a policy to approve construction of a house only if the plans included putting the cooking space 1m off the ground, to reduce burn incidents, Phuyal explained at a training session at Sushma Koirala Memorial Hospital (SKMH) last October. But <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-uneven-covid-19-deaths">Covid-19</a> hit, the project ended, the officials were replaced after elections, and the work lost momentum. Today, no <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people">local government</a> seems to have moved forward on <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18770">burn prevention</a>. During the training session at SKMH, the hospital’s deputy director, Rojina Shilpakar, described some of the burn cases at the facility in recent months. In Dailekh district, two boys were severely burned while collecting fodder. “The parents all thought that they would die so they didn’t take them for medical help. But after two weeks they survived and the story was posted on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-social-media-contagion">social media</a>.” The hospital reached out and arranged for both boys to be brought to Kathmandu, one to Kirtipur Hospital and the other to SKMH, with burns on 40% of his body. “He was emaciated, just flesh and bones, covered in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/medicine-goes-back-to-its-roots?fbclid=IwAR31DMkL6vtx8KFvX3KG79Jf6omKN8H8VZ0Dr9G-1UWtIBlFHNphMJi8mrY">herbal medicine </a>that looked like mud,” recalls Shilpakar. If he had been brought for treatment quickly, he could have recovered sooner, she adds. But he was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nearly-half-of-nepali-children-still-malnourished">malnourished,</a> and contractures had developed where one part of the body sticks to another, preventing movement. “We couldn’t take him to the operating room right away because of his malnourished condition. He had to gain some weight, increase his haemoglobin levels. Even skin grafts were not taken properly, so it affected the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-art-of-healing">healing,</a>” explains Shilpakar. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/pandemic-of-poverty">Poverty</a> prevents many families from<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-an-emergency-nepal-needs-to-improve-trauma-care"> seeking care</a>, although both facilities will not turn away burn cases for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/poor-cash-rich-nepal">lack of money</a>. SKMH paid the bills for the Dailekh boys' treatment, including an eight-month hospital stay. Now seven, the youngster has already had a follow-up surgery and is likely to need more operations as he grows. Smaller <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes">hospitals</a> outside Kathmandu often do not not accept severe burn cases, and instead send them immediately to a larger facility. “If the patient dies within a few hours, they will be blamed, So they just try to push them away,” adds Shilpakar. SKMH has been <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16801">training health workers</a> from across the country to treat burns since 2012. This includes countering the prevalent belief at the time that burn victims should not be given fluids. Patients would reach the centre <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating">dehydrated</a>, and then go into acute <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">kidney failure</a>. Some with a high percentage of burns die. Those cases have decreased in the last few years because <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-health-workers-at-risk-of-workplace-hazards">health workers </a>have been trained, including to give fluids to patients. The treatment at the Cleft and Burn Centre has become much more effective since it opened in 2014. Says Nakarmi: “Back then we could not save anyone who had 40% burns or greater. Now we can save half of victims with 40% burns, and if someone has 60% burns, they have a 15% chance of survival. We aim to save half of patients with 60% burns.” The centre developed a six-day training for health staff on burns care for workers from facilities country-wide, but funding was provided by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">USAID</a> and has been cut. There is no replacement in sight. Recent increase in government support for burns treatment seems to have been sparked by the case of MP Bhandari. In October, the government announced free treatment for patients from the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-nepal-s-poverty-rate-is-stuck"> poorest families</a>.&nbsp; “But there is a little catch,” says Nakarmi. “The treatment of destitute burn victims, are supposed to be covered right? But everyone else also wants to get support. A lot of Nepali people are not destitute, but they are poor. We just try to cover their costs as much as possible.”

Marty Logan

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A burning problem that needs solutions

Pritam Kunwar was born with a cleft lip and palate in Pokhara, but his family could not afford treatment for his condition. His face was disfigured, his speech was unintelligible, and the food he ate would often get into his nasal cavity.&nbsp; Finally, at 15 he received cleft surgery, but without post-operative therapy his speech was still impaired. Then one day, at age 26, his life changed. He used to make a living rowing boats at Phewa Lake, where a foreigner hopped on for a ride. He turned out to be a plastic surgeon volunteering in Nepal who referred him to Fishtail Hospital. That is where he met Shankar Man Rai. Kunwar underwent a second surgery, and received speech therapy. Today, he holds a Taekwondo black belt, and runs an academy by Pokhara’s Lakeside, training young women in self-defence. “Before my second surgery, the students at my martial arts academy did not understand a word I said, but after I could speak properly they learnt faster,” recalls Kunwar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080844_7e557a7682a0bc504237ed5cf9b1b6082ecf346ee34a541c43ae00d25377a2d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230804080844_7e557a7682a0bc504237ed5cf9b1b6082ecf346ee34a541c43ae00d25377a2d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="7238" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Removing scars 2"> <figcaption>Pritam Kunwar was born with a cleft lip and palate in Pokhara. After two surgeries and speech therapy, he now runs a Taekwondo academy training women in self defence.(Photo: Jana Ašenbrennerová)</figcaption> </figure>  On average, one out of every 500 live births in Nepal is a case of cleft lip or palate, birth deformities in which the lip or palate fail to fuse. Incidence in Nepal is higher than in most parts of the world for reasons which are unclear, but may have to do with a combination of genetic and environmental factors.&nbsp; However, the numbers afflicted are going down due to awareness and treatment at the <a href="https://nepalcleftandburncenter.org/">Nepal Cleft and Burn Center</a> at Kirtipur overlooking Kathmandu.&nbsp; “Before the 1980s, cleft and burn treatment through plastic surgery was unheard of in the country,” explains Shankar Man Rai, who is now a plastic surgeon and director of the Kirtipur centre. “International volunteer teams carried out the procedures, while Nepali doctors remained under-equipped.” Since then, Rai’s team has seen that scenario change. Improved awareness of the condition means parents bring their children for treatment to the 30-bed Centre almost as soon as they are born.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080844_56ba408f9cd1b497374609fc6002f6a5412b99432d4aff498f8f8fca81445e6d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230804080844_56ba408f9cd1b497374609fc6002f6a5412b99432d4aff498f8f8fca81445e6d" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Removing scars"> <figcaption>Shankar Man Rai(Photo: Jana Ašenbrennerová)</figcaption> </figure>  Nepali paediatric and general surgeons were trained by the international teams, and for over 25 years Rai’s team has been treating thousands of burn and cleft patients free of cost. The facility is funded by two non-profits, ReSurge International and Smile Train. The facility at Kirtipur was inaugurated in 2014, but the <a href="https://nepalcleftandburncenter.org/">Cleft and Burn Center </a>was initiated in 2002 by American textile retailer Jim Webber after meeting Rai in Nepal. Webber ran the Tibet Rug company, and organised financial support from other rug importers from Nepal to help fund the project.&nbsp; Since then, the Center has been Nepal’s first and leading teaching hospital specialising in deformity-correction surgery. Today, it is being run by Kirtipur Municipality and the non-profit <a href="https://www.phectnepal.org/">Public Health Concern Trust Nepal (phect-NEPAL)</a>, providing free treatment not just to patients at the centre but through camps in remote parts of the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080844_a5ba78663011d44d14e8c3f4d8dccbf4eb23c07d9d5dd7770187c4788023878b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230804080844_a5ba78663011d44d14e8c3f4d8dccbf4eb23c07d9d5dd7770187c4788023878b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Removing scars"> <figcaption>Photo: PHECT NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Kiran Nakarmi is the head of the Department of Burns, Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery at Kirtipur Hospital who worked with Rai to set up the centre. He says a cleft lip is easily recognised in infants, and can now even be diagnosed via ultrasound before birth. “Timely treatment is important because it yields better speech outcomes,” Nakarmi explains. “Our focus is on comprehensive care. Surgery alone is not enough, it needs follow-up with speech and occupational therapy and counseling.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080848_ee0057f9cd2d17d2834babd2164720028ef66b3d41fec3199246d7e21b2d4d91.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230804080848_ee0057f9cd2d17d2834babd2164720028ef66b3d41fec3199246d7e21b2d4d91" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Remioving scars 6"> <figcaption>Kiran Nakarmi looks at a patient.(Photo: Jana Ašenbrennerová)</figcaption> </figure>  The Kirtipur center’s camps have reached many rural parts of Nepal, impacting more than 20,000 cleft patients. Initially, speech therapists used to go to the camps but now has trained nurses like Kabita Bhattarai Gurung to carry out the same task.&nbsp; The outreach camps provide free food, lodging, orthodontic treatment, parental counseling, and speech therapy to patients, a model which Rai says can be replicated globally.&nbsp; The caseload for cleft palates has fallen sharply and the Kiritpur center which used to carry out up to 1,200 cleft operations a year till a decade ago now performs half that.&nbsp; <h2>Burning need</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080844_9a3c5a83db7f5f9ef918acbe1093472f7c9c2c6e9266078038b34420e00208bf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230804080844_9a3c5a83db7f5f9ef918acbe1093472f7c9c2c6e9266078038b34420e00208bf" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Removing scars"> </figure>  But with the decline in cleft cases, there has been a growing need to treat burn patients at Kirtipur.&nbsp; Bhesh, 14, was playing in his home in western Nepal when he heard his mother shriek from the kitchen. She was cooking when the open fire spread and engulfed the house.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/burning-in-the-aftermath,3757">Burning in the aftermath,</a> Sahina Shrestha Four days later, both Bhesh and his mother arrived at Nepal Cleft and Burn Center. The long ride had been excruciating, and with burns over 30% of her body, his mother died shortly after. Bhesh went through several surgeries and skin grafts. Over a third of the patients admitted to the Centre are children, and half are women.&nbsp; “We think that the home is the safest place, but that is where most burn injuries occur,” says Rai. “The proportion of children with burns at the Center shot up to over 40% during the pandemic. At home they were more at risk.” Rural women are exposed to open fires, and children suffer because they are largely unsupervised in high-hazard settings. Disfigured burn patients have to deal with social stigma because they are seen as a sign of bad luck.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080848_0f27d63b1f3a521c61cdb69bc45799d40ba1bea94c60d094cab9e6b5d7279035.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230804080848_0f27d63b1f3a521c61cdb69bc45799d40ba1bea94c60d094cab9e6b5d7279035" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Removing scars"> </figure>  The Center also treats burn violence usually perpetrated against women in the homes of in-laws, and this adds to the count of the 110 people who die of burns each year in Nepal. “Burns survivors in Nepal need more support,” says<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18771"> Wendy Marston, co-founder and advisor of Burns Violence Survivors (BVS) Nepal</a>. “Small acts of kindness from all of us, such as the spreading of education, and charitable giving, can go far in helping these survivors and patients.” BVS Nepal works with underserved patients in over 12 hospitals, providing funds for their treatment, therapy, and setting up businesses for survivors. Its prevention approach is shared by the Burn and Cleft Center which also holds burn awareness camps for community health workers and local people. “For household burns, awareness is surely the first step towards prevention,” Rai says. “But we can’t simply tell people what to do if they don’t have the means to act.” A WHO study shows that burns are the second most common injury in rural Nepal, accounting for 5% of disabilities in the country,&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tsering-sumjok-is-all-right">Tsering Sumjok is all right</a>, Sahina Shrestha “When we first started treating burns, we began with disabilities caused by post-burn contractures,” explains Nakarmi. “If the wound is in a place such as a joint, this causes the patient to lose mobility.”&nbsp; The Kirtipur team prioritises comprehensive care for burn contractures. But unlike with cleft palates, they failed to see any decline in the caseload even after years of effort. Rai says this is because burn survivors are not getting the treatment needed. Surgeons hope that using flaps and grafts they can reduce the occurrence of contractures. Nepal’s difficult geography keeps patients like Bhesh from quickly receiving care. Burn survivors from all over the country are referred to the few specialised centres in Kathmandu, but there is usually a long waiting list and it takes weeks before a doctor can see them.&nbsp; The Kirtipur Center has largely succeeded in minimising waits by enabling surgeons to go to patients instead of the other way around. This means patients at the Center receive the surgery they need within days of being admitted.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230804080852_34cfa9c4509717fa9b1fb8ff4184effa8d3e8d199b834ffae5ca43c117dd6611.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20230804080852_34cfa9c4509717fa9b1fb8ff4184effa8d3e8d199b834ffae5ca43c117dd6611" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Removing scar"> </figure>  But there are challenges. “Your treatment is not possible here,” were the words that Nepali Congress leader Chandra Bhandari heard at the Nepal Burn and Cleft Center where he was rushed there after suffering severe burn wounds in a gas cylinder explosion in February. Bhandari was eventually medevaced to Mumbai where he was successfully treated.&nbsp; “It is unfair that any Nepali should have to go abroad for burn treatment,” Bhandari told Nepali Times. “Our surgeons are the best in the world, yet they have had to rely solely on individual and community effort. The government urgently needs to support the surgeons, and I pledge to do what I can.”&nbsp; There are only 30-40 reconstructive plastic surgeons in the country, eight of them at Kirtipur, which offers a residency program for reconstructive plastic surgery affiliated with the National Academy of Medical Sciences program at Bir Hospital, whose curriculum was developed by Rai.&nbsp; While cosmetic plastic surgery is a booming profession in Nepal, the niche dedicated to burns treatment has not got the attention it deserves. Kirtipur Hospital, for instance, only has seven ICU beds, The country’s only skin bank at the Center has got only 31 donations in the nine years since it was set up.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-burning-desire-to-help,881">A burning desire to help</a>, Kunda Dixit With little government support, the Center mostly runs on international help for free treatment to about 600 patients a year. But even as its focus shifts from clefts to burns, international assistance is skewed in favour of cleft palates.&nbsp; “We get more donations than we need for clefts,” Rai reveals. “Burns are where we need greater investment, but because they are more expensive and complex, and have higher odds of ending in mortality, there is less interest from donors.” Not only is the government not providing needed help, its bureaucracy puts up obstacles every step of the way. Kirtipur Municipality received a donation of Rs2,900,000 for urgent burn treatment supplies. But red tape has delayed delivery. The Center now has an ambitious plan to establish a sustainable fund for free burns treatment by encouraging donations from well-to-do local Nepalis and the diaspora. The goal is not to have to turn to international donors for money. The Nepal Cleft and Burn Center will soon open a branch in Itahari of Sunsari district with the same level of care as Kirtipur.&nbsp; Says Nakarmi: “We don’t need big, lavish burn hospitals all over the country. We need a lot more primary burn centers where rural patients can receive immediate care, and then be referred to the larger centers if need be.” Nepal has seen major improvements in burn and cleft palate surgeries in recent years thanks to doctors like Rai and Nakarmi. Says Rai: “I am sure we will see a day when no patient seeking treatment in Nepal has to live with scars, both figuratively, and literally.”&nbsp;

Removing Scars

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203b79c7e80680e0b2821jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="695"/><figcaption>Tsering Sumjok Gurung with German plastic surgeon André Borsche (left) and Peter Hinze (right). Borsche had treated her childhood injury at the Sushma Koirala Memorial Hospital in Kathmandu. All photos courtesy: PETER HINZE</figcaption></figure>Last November, in the waiting room of a hospital in Bad Kreuznach in Germany, Tsering Sumjok Gurung caught glimpse of a familiar face.The tall man with graying hair and moustache was wearing a white coat over a yellow jumper. He was none other than plastic surgeon André Borsche who had treated her horrific childhood burn injury at the <a href="https://www.skmt.org.np">Sushma Koirala Memorial</a> Hospital in Kathmandu ten years previously.“It was an emotional reunion for both of us,” Tsering, now 23, remembers. “He was very friendly and wanted to see how my injuries had healed.”Tsering was 18 months old that summer when her family made the annual migration up to high pasture to graze their yaks. One day, while her mother was tending the livestock, Tsering fell off her crib right into the fireplace. She was badly burnt on her back, and right arm.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-burning-desire-to-help,881">A burning desire to help</a>, Kunda Dixit<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203ba9c7e80680e0b2822jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="308" height="462">There were no doctors in her village of Bhijer, so she was treated for the next four years by the local <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/I-am-an-amchi,3349" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">amchi healer</a>. This kept her alive, but the skin on her right arm was fused with the torso. All her childhood, Tsering was carried around in a doko bamboo basket.“Burns are common in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dazzling-dolpo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Dolpo</a> because home life revolves around the kitchen fire,” says Tsering. “I was lucky.”Despite being painful to move around, Tsering started going to school in Bhijer and excelled in studies. In Grade 2, a group of wealthy American and Swiss trekkers visited the school that they had supported. They noticed Tsering, examined her injuries, and helped bring her to Kathmandu for school and treatment. Over the years, the two families have also funded a hospital and a cheese factory in the village.Tsering used to watch her classmates in Kathmandu run and play, or dance in school programs, but could not participate because of her injury. She was eventually admitted to the Sushma Koirala Hospital, which is supported by INTERPLAST-Germany, where André Borsche and his team performed five major operations with reconstructive surgery. Every week, she had to make a painful bus ride from her dorm in Boudha to the hospital in Sankhu for physiotherapy and follow-ups.She missed many classes, but she made up for it by reading books which inspired her to become a doctor, so she could serve her community in Dolpo. Not able to afford higher education, in 2017 she started working as a hostel warden at a school in Chobar.That is when she met German journalist Peter Hinze who was researching his first book on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/The-Great-Himalaya-Trail/dp/3957281377" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.amazon.com/The-Great-Himalaya-Trail/dp/3957281377&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641892465582000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3DjWYFudXKEdEQ0H4UlQmW">The Great Himalayan Trail, </a>and Tsering later travelled with him to Upper Dolpo to make a film with herself as the lead character.Tsering was back in Bhijer for the first time in ten years, and her family and neighbours were surprised how much she had grown and changed. Her injuries were not visible anymore, and no one could believe that a little girl who had such terrible injuries would be so transformed.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18771#.Ydv72C8w3u0">Lending a hand</a>, Nepali Times“I met the right people who helped me get treatment otherwise my life would have been different,” Tsering says. “Even now, there are many children in my neighbouring villages who are not as fortunate.”The film project was cancelled because of the pandemic, but Hinze converted the research into the book 100000 Schritte zum Glück about Dolpo, and invited Tsering to Germany for the unveiling in November. The book made it to number 4 on Amazon's best seller list in Germany.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203bd9c7e80680e0b2823jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="169" height="242">And he had a surprise in store – a meeting with the surgeon who had treated her in Kathmandu all those years ago. It was an emotional and joyful reunion.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203bf9c7e80680e0b2824jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="641"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“This was one of the best days in my 26-year career, when I could see the wonderful result of our charity work,” said André Borsche.Tsering was equally happy: “I made it from my family stone hut in Bhijer to the hospital in Germany to meet the surgeon who changed my life.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-acid-attack-survivors-find-a-saviour/">Nepal’s acid attack survivors find a saviour</a>, Sabina Devkota<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203c19c7e80680e0b2825jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="1000">In the hospital, Borsche examined her burn scars and was satisfied with how well her back had healed. He suggested one more operation, but Tsering refused any more treatment.“I am over medical procedures for now,” Tsering told Nepali Times on her return from Germany. “After all those surgeries, I am put off by the sight of blood. I don’t want to think about the pain afterwards. For now I think I am ok.”These days, when Tsering is not busy with her full-time work at the Chobar school, she helps Hinze with Project Dolpo, a private initiative to help those who need assistance in her home district. She gets frequent calls from families in Dolpo who are in distress.Says Hinze: “I think this is a motivating story about a girl who never gave up, and who trusted herself. It shows how when help gets to the right people, the underprivileged and the almost forgotten, it can make a big difference to their lives.”This past week in Kathmandu, Tsering has been busy taking a seven-year-old boy from Dolpo who was also badly burnt with boiling water, and was brought to Kathmandu for treatment. Tsering has been taking the patient to the burns hospital in Kirtipur for medical attention.“It happened to me, and now to this boy. These accidents occur so frequently and Upper Dolpo just does not have the facilities to treat burn injuries,” says Tsering.For now, she wants to complete her education and ultimately return to Dolpo: “I feel it is my responsibility to give back to my community. The only way my village is going to develop is when young people like me get educated, and head back to help others like us. There is so much to do.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-prolonged-trauma-of-acid-attack-survivors/">The prolonged trauma of acid attack survivors</a>, Laxmi Basnet

Sahina Shrestha

Tsering Sumjok is all right

Nepalis worship the sun, and mark its seasonal passage with festivals. Adding to that spiritual reverence now is the economic relevance of solar power. Fast-flowing Himalayan rivers give Nepal a total feasible hydropower generation capacity of 48,000MW, of which only 3,600 has so far been harnessed. Yet, Nepal’s total solar power potential has been calculated to be nearly 10 times higher at 432,000MW. &nbsp; With over 300 days of sunshine a year, the country could produce 3.6 to 6.2 units of electricity per square meter based on its solar radiation levels.&nbsp; This potential, combined with decreasing installation costs of Chinese-manufactured photovoltaic cells and other means, is a viable and affordable alternative to Nepal’s over-reliance on hydropower which faces concerns about the destruction of riverine ecosystems, as well as risk from glacial lake floods caused by climate breakdown. However, restrictive domestic energy policies and geopolitical sensitivities mean Nepal is failing to diversify fast enough to tap this tremendous solar energy potential. Nepal’s hydropower generation is almost entirely from run-of-river projects that do not have large reservoirs. Many such projects in Nepal and across the Himalaya have been swept away by glacial lake outburst floods in recent years.&nbsp; Such risks and limitations to hydropower should have prompted the Nepal government to jump-start investment into solar farms, but the main reason is that the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) caps solar power at just 10% of total capacity. There is no official explanation, but it is likely due to the outdated perception that solar technology cannot supply a consistent energy stream at evening and morning peak loads.&nbsp; But today, there are plenty of ways around it, including pump storage schemes that use daytime solar power to pump water from a river to a reservoir and drain it to generate electricity at night. Battery technology is now more advanced, and affordable enough to make grid-scale batteries feasible.&nbsp; But then there is an issue of tariffs, which are much lower for solar at Rs5 per energy unit, and competitive bidding forces companies to lower it even further. But there is no bidding process for hydropower and licenses are given out on a first-come, first-served basis with a fixed rate of Rs6.5 per unit regardless of location.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112303118_c3280cddae6f3305d07319011dd9c187005822a9b905bb849c36b95e3ad0d516.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025112303118_c3280cddae6f3305d07319011dd9c187005822a9b905bb849c36b95e3ad0d516" data-rendition-name="original" width="1109" height="887" loading="lazy" alt="Here comes the sun"> </figure>  SUPPLY VS DEMAND Hydropower is supply-driven, while solar responds to demand, so under such a discouraging scenario, solar power accounts for only 5% of Nepal’s total energy mix. “Given the environmental risks to hydropower, investors are now demanding tariffs on hydropower to be increased. So the question to the government is, are you paying more money for hydropower or willing to buy more of the cheaper solar power,” said energy entrepreneur Kushal Gurung. Solar investors are lobbying the government to raise the cap on solar power to 30% and expand zoning policies so that solar plants can be built in areas with high potential, such as Dolpo and Mustang in the trans-Himalaya. These regions are sparsely populated, arid, have a cold climate and high solar radiation levels — ideal conditions for photovoltaics. Solar power’s biggest advantage is its cost-effectiveness compared to hydropower, with the operating cost of a hydropower plant up to four times higher than of a solar plant of the same generation capacity. Investors are no longer assured of a return on investment on hydropower due to climate risk which have increased insurance premiums. “Last year, when the government opened a bidding for 800MW of solar power, the private sector was ready to invest 3,000MW. Both banks and investors were convinced about the potential for solar energy, but the government and especially the bureaucracy, was not on the same wavelength,” added Gurung.&nbsp; Interim Energy Minister Kulman Ghising is said to be interested in increasing the cap on solar energy, but there is a question whether he will remain in office since he has launched his only Ujyalo Nepal party to contest elections in March. GEOGRAPHY AND GEOPOLITICS In 2018, Nepal’s only foreign private equity form Dolma Himalayan Climate Fund (DHCF) pitched a proposal to generate 150MW from a solar farm and store 20MW of it in battery systems in Mustang to meet seasonal and daily peaks. It got approval from Investment Board Nepal (IBN) and had already poured millions into the project when the Department of Mines instructed all developers in Mustang to halt their projects, citing the discovery of uranium ore. But insiders say the real reason was due to pressure from the Chinese government’s security concerns about a Western investor being involved so close to the border with Tibet.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112303118_5946a5f1ba63f34c88f900c6d12b37d0101effb76e8a7a5397cd6451c16cd5b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025112303118_5946a5f1ba63f34c88f900c6d12b37d0101effb76e8a7a5397cd6451c16cd5b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="450" loading="lazy" alt="Here comes the sun NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GHAM POWER</figcaption> </figure>  The same thing happened, but in reverse, when the Chinese company Risen Energy was interested in investing $190 million on a grid-connected 125MW photovoltaic generation system in Banke and Kapilvastu districts near the Indian border. Risen’s subsidiary, Risen Energy Singapore JV, was negotiating with IBN to commit $190 million in the project which would also store 20MW of daytime generation for morning and evening peak demand. But the agreement was not signed because the Indian authorities were concerned about Chinese involvement so close to their border. India has also refused to buy electricity from any hydropower plant in Nepal that has Chinese or other foreign investment or contractors. Indian state-owned companies are currently building or planning hydropower plants in Nepal to generate nearly 3,000MW, mostly for export.&nbsp; But not every Chinese-backed project has been blocked. In 2024, China handed over two solar-powered livelihood projects to a local community in Lalitpur — a community solar bathhouse and a rooftop photovoltaic power system. Funded by the Yunnan People’s Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries, the projects aim to improve living conditions. The initiative forms part of the Chinese Embassy’s ‘Happy Community’ program (幸福社区, Xìngfú Shèqū) under the China–South Asia Poverty Reduction and Development Cooperation Center.&nbsp; Says Gurung: “Hydropower is a geopolitical mess, but it has well and truly started in solar power too. It now all comes down to how we handle it, and we need deft diplomacy to make sure our projects are not indefinitely delayed as has happened in the past.”&nbsp; LOW-HANGING FRUIT Despite domestic restrictions and geopolitics, there are still small-scale opportunities for solar energy entrepreneurs to cash in, such as net metering. Most industries in Nepal have enough rooftop space to generate 500KW to 1MW of solar energy. Combined, they would generate a substantial amount of energy to feed into the grid. Factories, supermarkets and chain stores are often bankable and trusted by financial institutions from which they could easily get credit.&nbsp; China could also take advantage of Nepal’s high solar power potential. Given that the United States has only imposed a 10% tariff on Nepal, China could set up PV manufacturing plants in Nepal.&nbsp; However, this requires government-to-government which could run into trouble, again because of geopolitics. The same applies for the Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism which is a carbon tariff on carbon intensive products, such as steel, cement and some electricity, imported to the European Union.&nbsp; Chinese products have suffered under this mechanism but Chinese products made in Nepal can be competitive in the European market given lower carbon tax for Nepal. Clean energy has long been an area where Nepal hopes to attract Chinese investment — not only in hydropower, but also in solar and wind energy.&nbsp; With contributions from Qian Sun, Global Voices.&nbsp;

Nepal, here comes the sun

There were two Bhutans on display during Narendra Modi’s visit this month. The first: a trusted partner, modernising rapidly with Indian support, inaugurating hydroelectric projects, and signing healthcare deals. The second: a nation that <a href="https://www.fmreview.org/gazmere-bishwo/#:~:text=In%201990%2D91%2C%20about%20a,are%20therefore%20not%20Bhutanese%20citizens.">ethnically cleansed 17% of its population </a>and has never been held accountable.
Modi chose to see only the <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-concludes-bhutan-visit-with-prayers-for-peace-and-prosperity">first </a>during his <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-announces-rs-4000-cr-concessional-credit-line-to-fund-energy-projects-in-bhutan/articleshow/125253915.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&amp;utm_medium=text&amp;utm_campaign=cppst">11-12 November visit</a>, granting $450 million in credit, offering birthday tributes to Fourth King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, and inaugurating another hydropower project.
New Delhi has opted for strategic silence on Bhutan’s systematic persecution of the Lhotshampas in the 1990s. The displaced remain scattered across the world and in refugee camps in Nepal, their property seized, their citizenship revoked.&nbsp;
Now, on that same contested land Bhutan is building the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Gelephu Mindful City (GMC)</a>, a megaproject intended to <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-announces-inr-40-billion-credit-line-new-rail-links-and-land-for-bhutanese-temple-in-varanasi">connect directly to Indian infrastructure</a>. The victims are gone, and democratic India’s values remain conspicuously absent.&nbsp;
With no Lhotshampas left to challenge the official narrative and India unwilling to raise it, Bhutan continues to suppress dissent with impunity.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, social media influencer Raghu Pati Subedi was arrested on the Assam side of Gelephu after returning from a visit to relatives in India. His family members reportedly came under intense pressure, including threats of arrest, accusing them of hiding his whereabouts. After his arrest, he was transported to Thimphu and imprisoned.
This was not an isolated incident. It is part of systemic repression that first gained international attention in the 1990s, when over 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa were systematically stripped of their citizenship and forcibly exiled. This mass expulsion, which human rights organisations have characterised as ethnic cleansing, created a decades-long refugee crisis that continues to define the regional political and human rights landscape.&nbsp;
EXODUS
The Lhotshampa crisis of the 1990s was not a spontaneous event but the culmination of years of state-led discrimination. Through a series of legislative acts, notably the 1985 Citizenship Act and the 1989 Driglam Namzha, the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy, the Bhutanese state systematically dismantled the rights of its Nepali-speaking citizens.&nbsp;
The use of the Nepali language was suppressed, the traditional dress of the ruling ethnic group was mandated, and citizenship was revoked en masse, rendering a significant portion of the population stateless in their own homeland.
The new manuscript I am editing has harrowing accounts by the authors of those atrocities. The parallels with what happened to Subedi recently are striking and troubling, showing that even after 35 years the regime has not changed its spots. The methods may have evolved, but the repression against dissidents remains disturbingly consistent.
This refugee exodus was an immense and unasked-for burden on Nepal. Despite being a country grappling with its own political instability and limited resources, Nepal accommodated them on humanitarian grounds. Nepal has consistently advocated for a durable solution centered on the refugees’ right to safe, voluntary, and dignified repatriation.
For years, it engaged in bilateral talks with Bhutan, culminating in a joint verification process. However, these efforts ultimately foundered on what Nepal described as ‘continued rigidity and non-implementation of the agreed decisions by the Bhutanese side’.
Nepal fulfilled its moral and humanitarian duty, but the international community largely failed to hold Bhutan accountable. Bhutan’s rulers deflected global attention with the masterful narrative of Gross National Happiness (GNH), while the grim reality in the refugee camps persisted.&nbsp;
Ultimately, with repatriation proving impossible, Nepal acquiesced to a third-country resettlement program led by a group of eight countries, including the United States, Canada, and Australia. From 2007 to 2016, more than 113,500 Bhutanese refugees were resettled in <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/media/nepal-factsheet">one of the largest group resettlement programmes globally</a>, though 6,365 remain in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.
While this solution provided a lifeline for thousands, it was a tragic capitulation to Bhutan’s ethnic homogenisation project. The refugees’ right to return to their homeland has been denied. It is a cautionary tale about the limits of international diplomacy in the face of state intransigence.
Bhutan’s global brand is one of its most successful exports. The <a href="https://www.gnhcentrebhutan.org/">Gross National Happiness </a>doctrine, which promotes holistic well-being over just economic growth, has captivated the Western imagination and policymakers. It offers a vision of a mindful, environmentally conscious, and peaceful Himalayan kingdom. This carefully cultivated image has historically aimed to shield Bhutan from the level of scrutiny applied to other nations with similar human rights records.
The GNH facade, however, cracks under the weight of documented evidence. The same kingdom that champions ‘happiness’ has, for decades, maintained a justice system that human rights groups allege relies on torture, coerced confessions, and draconian laws to silence opposition.
The 1992 National Security Act, with its vague definitions of ‘treasonable acts’ against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (King, Country, and People), has been a primary tool for suppressing political dissent, particularly from the Lhotshampa.
Overlooked by the international community and ignored by global powers including India, in responding robustly to the ethnic cleansing of the 1990s sent a clear message to Thimphu: such actions could be undertaken with impunity. The monarchy emerged unscathed, its reputation burnished rather than tarnished.&nbsp;
This historical impunity now echoes in the case of Raghu Pati Subedi and the <a href="https://www.cijnepal.org/new-list-of-political-prisoners-expected-to-set-off-discussion-on-bhutans-human-rights-record">continued imprisonment of dozens of political prisoners</a> of conscience. The global community’s reluctance to challenge the GNH narrative has, in effect, become a form of complicity.
The arrest and sentencing of a social media influencer demonstrates how old tactics have been adapted for the digital age. Subedi, 40, was a new kind of threat to the state-controlled narrative and he had to be made an example of.&nbsp;
As the founder and administrator of the popular Facebook page ‘The Don of Asia’, he bypassed traditional, state-influenced media to speak directly to about 78,000 followers. His content, informational and satirical videos on rural poverty, corruption, and the GMC project, was the kind of social media activism that was deemed intolerable.
Subedi was arrested in early 2025 and sentenced to 24 years in prison. The charges allegedly stemmed from Subedi’s social media criticism of the GMC, a flagship project of Nepal-born Bhutanese fifth King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://thenewamericansmag.com/2024/11/18/the-kings-gelephu-mindfulness-city/#:~:text=Ganga%20Lamitare%2C%20who%20owns%20four,ancestors%20in%20building%20the%20nation.">Bhutanese refugees like Gangaram Lamitare</a>, the GMC represents a bitter irony, a development rising on their confiscated ancestral lands.&nbsp;
Gangaram, who owns four acres where the GMC’s international airport is now under construction, says: “Many people from villages fled at night in 1990, leaving everything behind to escape oppression. Now, the Bhutanese king and ministers are spreading falsehoods worldwide, calling this land vacant, which actually belongs to those forced to leave the country.”&nbsp;
There are signs that international support that has benefited Bhutan may be waning. The United Nations has become increasingly vocal and last year the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/documents/issues/detention-wg/opinions/session101/a-hrc-wgad-60-2024-bhutan-advance-edited-ve.pdf">UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the detention of several Bhutanese political prisoners was arbitrary and illegal under international law.&nbsp;
In April 2025 from a group of six UN human rights experts raised grave concerns about the use of torture, denial of fair trials, and the ‘severe chilling effect’ of Bhutan’s legal framework on civic space. These developments owe much to the consistent advocacy of the Hague-based Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) since its formation.
However, they also reflect broader shifts in international human rights scrutiny. This places Bhutan’s key international partners, particularly the European Union, in a critical position. Bhutan enjoys lucrative benefits under the EU’s ‘Everything but Arms’ trade scheme, which grants developing countries tariff-free access to the EU market contingent on respect for human rights.&nbsp;
The EU is also a significant provider of development aid to Bhutan which provides it with substantial leverage. In April 2025, members of the <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/saskiabricmont.bsky.social/post/3lmrn5mkmrs2q">European Parliament formally called on Bhutan</a> to release all political prisoners. This action signals a growing recognition that trade and partnership cannot be divorced from human rights obligations.&nbsp;
“Bhutan’s international partners and investors, including the EU, should make it clear that they expect Bhutan to comply with its human rights obligations and release them without further delay,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, of Human Rights Watch.&nbsp;
Bhutan stands at a crossroads. Its desire for deeper global economic integration is colliding with its unresolved history of human rights abuses. The international community now has a choice: either continue being charmed by the myth of a happy shangri-la or insist that the kingdom adheres to democratic values it professes to the world.&nbsp;
Nepal’s recent Gen-Z uprising offers a lesson to Bhutan. In September, when authorities attempted to ban 26 social media, Nepali youth took to the streets and, within hours, toppled the entire pro-establishment political apparatus. Their message was clear: in an age of digital connectivity and mass mobilisation, authoritarian tactics such as detaining social media influencers are both unjust and ultimately unsustainable.
This incident echoes the prophetic warnings of Devi Bhakta Lamitare, Bhutan’s first-generation democratic leader, who died in exile in India in 2022. In his seminal 1970 book
Dankindo Bhutan, Lamitare chronicled the systematic suppression of people’s rights and envisioned a path toward liberation.
Before his death, I worked with him to update and edit this work, which the Bhutan Media Society published posthumously in 2023. In a December 2020 interview I conducted for the book on the Ganga riverbank in Haridwar, Lamitare laid out a stark three-front offensive: political mobilisation from within India to awaken resistance inside Bhutan itself, relentless pressure on New Delhi to champion democracy, and a global ‘pamphlet war’ waged by resettled Bhutanese in the West.&nbsp;
Only through such sustained action, he argues, can Bhutanese citizens win the right to choose their own rulers, a principle India, the world’s largest democracy, should be championing, not abandoning.
Binod Dhungel is the Nepal correspondent for Reporters Without Borders.
<a href="http://linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod" target="_blank">linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod</a>, @BinodDhungel

Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

Youth protestors who sustained injuries at the hands of state security forces during the September protest staged a sit-in at Maitighar Mandala on Friday, protesting what they have called the interim government’s inadequate efforts to address the demands of the GenZ movements. The demonstrators also sought to bar the UML from gathering at Maitighar, where party chair K P Oli was expected to announce its Youth Volunteer Force on Friday. The organisers consequently relocated the event. Friday’s demonstration at Maitighar comes as UML and GenZ representatives agreed to sit down for talks in Simara, where a curfew was imposed this week after youth protestors and party cadres clashed near the airport as demonstrators sought to stop UML leaders from flying in for a political event to Simara from Kathmandu.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251121131148_c0b3bfb861f73bee456efbd12f523af55ce3c258742c39e1dea7dbf768774ea5.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251121131148_c0b3bfb861f73bee456efbd12f523af55ce3c258742c39e1dea7dbf768774ea5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2160" height="1440" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ Maitighar"> <figcaption>Youth protestors who sustained injuries at the hands of state security forces during the September protest staged a sit-in at Maitighar Mandala on Friday. Photos: SUBASH SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251121131152_85f3606728d137b334d782ac1b5d1ed6383544493f96ebcc0398fcd9f0c5add7.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251121131152_85f3606728d137b334d782ac1b5d1ed6383544493f96ebcc0398fcd9f0c5add7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2160" height="1439" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ Maitighar"> </figure>  &nbsp;Nepal’s interim government is increasingly cautious about the nation’s sensitive security situation in the lead-up to the 5 March election, as evidenced by pro-monarchy businessman Durga Prasai’s midnight arrest earlier this week over his inflammatory remarks as he called for protests this month. On Thursday, the Supreme Court ordered the government to present Prasai before the court within 24 hours.&nbsp; As it stands, the UML’s inauguration of a youth collective amidst its disregard for the demands of Nepalis for party reforms and a change in leadership highlights party chair and former PM K P Oli’s continued lack of remorse for the excesses of 8 September.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251121131144_aaa296e2e812ef5f6473064bc4b679bf605e14e06ac0ec9be1d6d047b56f96f9.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251121131144_aaa296e2e812ef5f6473064bc4b679bf605e14e06ac0ec9be1d6d047b56f96f9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2560" height="1707" loading="lazy" alt="UML Youth Volunteer Force NT"> <figcaption>The UML launched its Youth Volunteer Force on Friday. Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251121131148_bfa8df3fc382195b4cdb9c4804cd67e169d2d9c0b8d218e61bbef0c4c9dbdaad.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251121131148_bfa8df3fc382195b4cdb9c4804cd67e169d2d9c0b8d218e61bbef0c4c9dbdaad" data-rendition-name="original" width="2560" height="1706" loading="lazy" alt="UML Youth Volunteer Force"> </figure>  Families of those killed and injured on 8 September have demanded that the ousted PM and home minister be held accountable for state brutality.&nbsp; This week, Human Rights Watch published a <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2025/11/19/nepal-unlawful-use-of-force-during-gen-z-protest" target="_blank">comprehensive report</a> concluding that security forces fired indiscriminately on youth-led protestors on 8 September.&nbsp; The human rights watchdog urged the Sushila Karki-led interim government to investigate the excessive use of force as well as arson, vandalism and mob attacks on individuals on 9 September. The government has created a judicial commission to inquire into the deaths of 76 people over two days of protests.&nbsp; “The recent violence in Nepal included serious human rights violations, and those responsible should be held accountable, whether they are security forces or political actors,” said Meenakshi Ganguly, deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch.&nbsp; She added: “The government should ensure that the investigations are independent, time-bound, and transparent, and that no one found responsible for breaking the law is unfairly protected from proper prosecution.” HRW’s investigation was based on testimony from 52 witnesses, victims, journalists, healthcare workers, politicians, and sources close to security forces. Researchers also verified photos and video footage shared on social media and with researchers; and visited the scenes of protests, properties subjected to arson and vandalism, and hospitals.&nbsp; A police officer said that officers opened fire with lethal force five minutes after the District Administration Office declared an emergency curfew around Parliament. Witness accounts and analysed footage did not show grave and imminent danger to life that would justify the intentional use of lethal force, stated the human rights watchdog in the report.&nbsp; The protestors and witnesses identified security forces who fired live ammunition at the protestors by their uniforms as members of the Armed Police Force (APF) and Nepal Police’s Special Task Force (STF). &nbsp; “They literally aimed at us and started shooting,” said one witness who sheltered behind a barricade as police continued shooting.&nbsp; A retired senior police official said police had failed to follow procedures for dispersing protests and using lethal force.&nbsp; Pathologists at a Kathmandu morgue told HRW that they determined 35 cases of death caused by “high velocity gunshot wounds” to the head, neck, chest, or abdomen.&nbsp; The witness recounted being taken into custody along with 33 other protestors by STF officers in riot gear, and said that police police personnel beat him with batons. Detainees were threatened and their IDs destroyed. Several witnesses said that the mob attacks on businesses, politicians, media companies, and educational institutions were very targeted, noting the absence of security personnel on 9 September as arson and violence raged across the capital.&nbsp; Some suggested that the violence may have been instigated by infiltrators associated with various political movements.&nbsp; On Discord, the platform where a significant number of demonstrators organised, participants noted that while there were calls for peaceful movement in the days leading up to the protest, some on the platform advocated for violence.&nbsp; Human Rights Watch has said that any credible allegations of criminal acts contributing to the violence must be investigated.&nbsp; Said Ganguly: “The authorities should recognise that widespread impunity for human rights violations in the past helped enable the violence that occurred this time in Nepal. It is crucial to reverse the decades-long tendency by successive governments in Nepal to bury investigations and stall prosecutions, and to bring about accountability and security sector reform.”

Security forces targeted protestors disproportionately: HRW

&nbsp;Nepal has finally become famous the world over for something else besides Mt Everest — the GenZ Movement. The 8 September protests in Kathmandu may have been triggered by what happened in Jakarta a week previously, but it inspired street uprisings all over the world. This week, Mexico’s GenZ are clashing with riot police. Last month, the president of Madagascar fled to Dubai. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-genzs-inspired-filipinos" target="_blank">Philippines</a>, Morocco, Peru, Timor Leste all have seen similar anti-government protests against corruption, nepotism and poor governance. A Himalayan republic, a Latin American federation, a Southeast Asian archipelago, or a North African kingdom may have little in common, their histories, religions, languages, and political systems are worlds apart. But <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/10/19/world/gen-z-revolutions-protests-louvre-heist-gaza.html" target="_blank">the common thread</a> running through these demonstrations were the simulacra and symbols spread on social media platforms.&nbsp; The young crowds marching through the streets of these countries were holding up the same icons. They painted the same images on cardboard, waved the same flags, stitched the same badges on their backpacks. They chanted &nbsp;the same references from the same corners of the internet.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_2ff7cf4ce7a9590359ed18753f4977648a6db83e95dd62d602a3f81e9eec42c4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251122031128_2ff7cf4ce7a9590359ed18753f4977648a6db83e95dd62d602a3f81e9eec42c4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="1047" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> <figcaption> One Piece reference meme on Instagram, 115K likes(Photo: Shristi Karki)</figcaption> </figure>  To anyone who did not grow up online, this looks random. To anyone who did, it feels like the most obvious thing in the world. A new kind of global identity has formed — one that cuts across nationalities and cultures. In Nepal older relatives mock the ‘जेन्जी’. My neighbour asked me if ‘GenZ’ was a new political party.&nbsp; Around the world, when youth-led protests appear, reporters and politicians ask the same question: ‘Who is the leader?’ The answer is the same: there is no leader.&nbsp; Some names come up more prominently, as people did during <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-historic-youth-dissensus?fbclid=IwY2xjawNPQnZleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHk5Nazeqz3K9aNddXa-dQfCbwtId0nLclQwHzIYhTfg8tzGWXZMBJ5pjm5Qx_aem_a5JoyT1FRqzCVtnnPM7zUw" target="_blank">the Nepali protests</a>: Sudan Gurung. Miraj Dhungana, Rakshya Bam and other organisers who appeared in livestreams and interviews. But look closely and the leader is hiding in plain sight. The leader is not a person. The leader is the internet meme.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_b2319eb8d7abec7ed5e12baf1a53e0a27cfd7a49ee15c058c47cdf2603a7fa8a.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251122031128_b2319eb8d7abec7ed5e12baf1a53e0a27cfd7a49ee15c058c47cdf2603a7fa8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="662" height="1038" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> <figcaption>Aurafarming, 233K likes(Photo: Shristi Karki)</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-meme-revolution" target="_blank">Memes today</a> are doing the quiet organising work that pamphlets and party cells once did. They offer identity, coordinate action, level power differences, and they do it without any central command. This is not because memes cause revolts. It is because memes are the connective tissue of a generation that grew up on the same visual language, the same jokes, the same references, and the same sense of shared digital childhood. Older generations did not share cultural symbols in the same way. Whether they read a certain comic book or watched the same cartoon depended on class, religion, caste, the country, or neighbourhood they grew up in. These divisions created stratified cultural memories.&nbsp; Today, an entire global cohort has been raised on the same visual media. The same YouTube creators. The same TikTok jokes. The same anime storylines. It is truly what McLuhan predicted the Global Village would be.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_136d009a48d8f8daee82ada1b220e0b0c8ec482b52dcd44e0942e2185a70421b.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251122031128_136d009a48d8f8daee82ada1b220e0b0c8ec482b52dcd44e0942e2185a70421b" data-rendition-name="original" width="738" height="1012" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> <figcaption>Masked K P Oli, 63K likes(Photo: Shristi Karki)</figcaption> </figure>  This has also created the perfect environment for <a href="https://observer.co.uk/news/international/article/revolution-20-frances-political-future-could-be-won-or-lost-by-bots-and-memes" target="_blank">memes to become political tools</a>. They are instantly recognisable, emotionally charged, and open for remixing. They allow young people to signal their values without stating them. They compress identity, anger, humour, and belonging into something that the rest of the world dismisses as unserious. The perfect example of a GenZ meme is the famous skull and crossbones in protest flags from Kathmandu to Manila to Mexico City. The Strawhat Pirates from the <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/asia-pacific/20251006-one-piece-manga-revolt-morocco-indonesia-nepal-madagascar" target="_blank">anime One Piece</a>, is a show with over 1,000 episodes and a global fanbase that spans continents. One Piece follows Luffy, a justice driven pirate who travels across a world ruled by corrupt older elites who hoard power and suppress dissent.&nbsp; It is not hard to see why that story resonates with young people who feel locked out of political systems built by generations before them. I even printed stacks of my own flyer that explained memetic warfare using Minecraft visuals and handed them out in the crowd. Each one linked to a Telegram group with the Strawhat Pirates logo called MemePack HQ.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031144_1b12e920be6e312e1dc8768d318c1d1332e32694293b48984089867e7e525a27.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251122031144_1b12e920be6e312e1dc8768d318c1d1332e32694293b48984089867e7e525a27" data-rendition-name="original" width="1100" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Meme Movements"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_08b720667a9ff36537e58992c8a8030b090900847de5eecd479bbb3fc727349d.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251122031128_08b720667a9ff36537e58992c8a8030b090900847de5eecd479bbb3fc727349d" data-rendition-name="original" width="696" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> <figcaption>Indonesia-Nepal comparison, 17.7K likes(Photo: Shristi Karki)</figcaption> </figure>  CULTURE EXPOSURE The Strawhat logo is not the only symbol making people protest. That would be like saying video games cause real world violence. Instead, the logo works like a modern version of mythology. It packs meaning for those who understand it. It represents loyalty, rebellion, chosen family, and resistance against unfair structures. It works as a rallying flag because it is already a shared story. And unlike older myths, it is accessible regardless of religion, caste, language, or national identity. Across Nepal, the Strawhat symbol has shown up on posters, badges, and protest outfits. But it is only one piece of a larger ecosystem of youth symbols. From Nepali meme pages remixing political speeches into ironic audios, to posts that place politicians into familiar pop culture formats, to clips that exaggerate the absurdity of daily life under slow moving governance, these are not just jokes. These are narrative units. Each post is a tiny story with its own punchline and its own political edge. Each TikTok video or meme functions like a religious shlok, a short piece of narrative that carries layers of meaning depending on who consumes it. Someone who has spent years studying a religion, in this case, inside GenZ online culture will recognise the symbols instantly. Someone outside this world will only see noise. This creates a literacy divide that is not about formal education but cultural exposure.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f.png" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251122031128_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="1208" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_d591c4dc857864cc833ffc6baece3f4c2798bbaf70b557f965463fc8f802900e.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251122031128_d591c4dc857864cc833ffc6baece3f4c2798bbaf70b557f965463fc8f802900e" data-rendition-name="original" width="568" height="1124" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> </figure>  Protesting youth spent countless hours scrolling, interpreting, remixing, and responding to content. They built a shared symbolic universe across borders without planning to. This is why their political movements feel leaderless. They are not following individuals. They are following stories that define what justice looks like. Stories that define who the villain is. Stories that define how to respond when power is abused. In Nepal, memes about broken roads, delayed passports, political inheritance networks, and bureaucratic absurdity circulated for months before they became slogans or chants. By the time people took to the streets, the narrative groundwork had already been completed by thousands of posts liked and shared in private. The protests did not emerge from nowhere. They emerge from years of digital storytelling. Which is why the government’s ban on 26 digital platforms on 5 September became such a rallying force. The platforms that distribute these memes are not neutral, they are actually designed to maximise engagement because engagement translates to ad revenue. Right now, there is an engineer in Silicon Valley getting paid an enormous salary to find the perfect colour shade for a singular pixel on your screen so that you linger for fractions of a second longer.&nbsp; Algorithms reward content that trigger emotion. Sometimes the emotion is delight. Sometimes it is envy. Often it is anger. When rage becomes a business model, movements built inside these systems can feel powerful but unstable. The platforms democratise attention but centralise emotion. They allow anyone to broadcast, yet they shape the emotional tone of what becomes viral.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251122031128_f22baab05910305ea435045824b25b796d5630715e2e17c3f3c0991e8371843c.png" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251122031128_f22baab05910305ea435045824b25b796d5630715e2e17c3f3c0991e8371843c" data-rendition-name="original" width="974" height="1156" loading="lazy" alt="Meme movements"> </figure>  GenZ sits inside this tension. Empowered by the ability to speak without gatekeepers. Trapped inside systems that monetise their attention and amplify their frustration. This is why these leaderless online movements feel both organic and volatile. The algorithm filters which stories rise and which fade. It becomes an unintentional political actor. Not elected. Not accountable. Yet influencing millions. When the state is no longer the primary distributor of information, and when the algorithm becomes the new filter of reality, the public is left with a new responsibility. We have to learn to read memes the way past generations learned to read pamphlets or manifestos. A 15 second video can carry more political weight than a two hour speech. A symbol on cardboard might represent a decade of digital storytelling. Older generations often dismiss these images as childish. They are actually literacy markers of a new political class, one that does not wait for leaders. A political class fluent in remixing power, raised on global stories that feel more honest than the institutions they inherited. The youth did not create these platforms. They inherited them. But through memes they found a new language, one that lets them organise without permission. One that lets them build solidarity without needing meetings or manifestos. One that allows them to resist systems that feel too old to reform. It is time to take that seriously. Nobel Rimal is a researcher of digital culture and political communication who studied and participated in the meme driven mobilisations during the Nepal protests&nbsp;