<figure><img width="1200" height="800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91d49c7e80680e06f112jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>From left to right: Finnish Ambassador Pertti Anttinen, EU Ambassador Nona Deprez, the new Health Minister Sher Bahadur Tamang, Nepal’s third in one year, with German Ambassador Roland Shäfer at Kathmandu Airport on Tuesday to receive another consignment of medical assistance from Europe. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>When Nepal’s new Health Minister Sher Bahadur Tamang went to Kathmandu Airport on Tuesday morning to receive another international consignment of medical assistance, he was the third Health Minister since the pandemic began.Tamang was brought into the Cabinet by Prime Minister K P Oli last week in a reshuffle in which he inducted 12 ministers from the Janata Samajbadi Party (JSP), removed prominent ministers from his own UML, and kept seven portfolios for himself for now.Tamang had earlier sided with the Pushpa Kamal Dahal-Madhav Kumar Nepal faction of the Nepal Communist Party, but defected to the Oli side after the Supreme Court disbanded the party earlier this year. <figure><img width="960" height="641" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91d69c7e80680e06f113jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Health Minister Sher Bahadur Tamang greets EU Ambassador Nona Deprez at Kathmandu Airport on Tuesday. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>He succeeded <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/aid-pours-into-nepal-but-where-be-vaccines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/aid-pours-into-nepal-but-where-be-vaccines/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252329000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGyPl6Sr4mQ4kPdI5ExVOvZoMnGZg">Hiradyesh Tripathi</a>, who was former minister of federal affairs and general administration. Because he graduated in political science from Russia, he had been entrusted by the Oli administration to buy 5 million doses of the Sputnik V vaccine. Tripathi had negotiated with the Serum Institute India for the purchase of 2 million doses of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-begins-covid-19-vaccination-drive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-begins-covid-19-vaccination-drive/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252330000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFR9dOY2OIo7t4ier63kVQ3SiP3DQ">Covishield AstraZeneca</a> vaccine and even sent advance payment. But <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-gift-of-the-jab/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-gift-of-the-jab/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252330000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHgSXRiKrbzrrx_SdQTwRktENrKmw">only 1 million doses were delivered</a>, before India banned the export of vaccines. Tripathi later blamed the Serum Institute of India’s representatives in Nepal of trying to take a bigger cut from the next order of 5 million doses for the failure to produce vaccines in time. This allegation was later refuted by the representatives, Hukam Distribution &amp; Logistics, which said it was due to India's ban, and that it was just following the law that allowed 10% commission.As the second wave surged through Nepal in April, Tripathi <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/our-health-system-cant-contain-the-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/our-health-system-cant-contain-the-pandemic/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252330000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE5fNsRaZtmGASdtIMPLB9kn9kURw">said in an interview with Nepali Times</a> that the pandemic had overwhelmed Nepal’s health system and it could not contain the pandemic. He said it was now up to the public to take proper precautions.Before Tripathi, the health minister was <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/swiss-pcrs-for-nepal-covid-19-testing/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/swiss-pcrs-for-nepal-covid-19-testing/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252330000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG8X1gfPXURrL-FOhHlLcEV8Y6Juw">Bhanubhakta </a>Dhakal, who was in charge when the first scandals broke in the procurement of Covid-19 test kits through <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-relying-on-unreliable-covid-19-kits/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-relying-on-unreliable-covid-19-kits/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252330000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGTtkj-VCFBkfqZ9QwtugfGT26oWA">Omni International</a>, a local company. The kits were found to be faulty and overpriced. Dhakal was made Tourism and Civil Aviation Minister during a reshuffle last year.  <figure><img width="1405" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91d99c7e80680e06f114jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Swiss Ambassador Elisabeth von Cappeler handing over 30,000 PCR kits to Health Minister Bhanubhakta Dhakal at Kathmandu airport last year on 8 May. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1467" height="973" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91dc9c7e80680e06f115jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Swiss Ambassador Elisabeth von Capeller (centre) handing over Swiss medical assistance to Health Minister Hridayesh Tripathi on 22 May this year at Kathmandu airport. Also pictured, Head of Cooperation for SDC Silvana Hogg. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>The new health minister Sher Bahadur Tamang as MP has been lobbying for the legalisation of the cultivation and controlled sale of cannabis to lift rural livelihoods. He was at the airport on Tuesday to receive the new consignment of assistance from Germany under the European Union’s Civil Protection Mechanism. The material arrived on a Turkish Airline cargo charter that brought 62 ventilators, 27,500 FFP2 masks, 30,000 surgical masks, 100 gumboots, 200 body bags, 5 isolation centre tents, and 25,000 litres of disinfectant.  Also on hand at the airport to receive the aid package were German Ambassador Roland Shäfer, EU Ambassador Nona Deprez and Finnish Ambassador Pertti Anttinen. <figure><img width="960" height="640" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91df9c7e80680e06f116jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>A Turkish Airlines cargo plane brought another consignment of medical equipment from Germany under the European Union’s Civil Protection Mechanism to Kathmandu on Tuesday. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>Although the official daily total for confirmed Covid-19 cases has been going down, public health experts say it is an underestimation. The number of hospital cases, ICU patients and those on ventilators are all going down in Nepal’s cities. However, the virus is said to be ravaging the remotest villages in Nepal where access to health care is rudimentary.They say what <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-goes-viral/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-goes-viral/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623223252330000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGWNZGKW3qrT2rSKlxzDVTy0WWTVg">Nepal really needs now is vaccines</a>. Some 1.4 million doses are needed immediately for elderly people waiting for their second dose of Covishield, and then for the 18 million adults in the coming months as the lockdown is eased.Nepal registered 3,370 new cases on Monday and 6,950 recovering, which has brought the number of active cases to below 90,000 for the first time in 6 weeks. The number of Covid-19 deaths in the past 24 hours was 92, with a total of nearly 8,000 since the beginning off the pandemic.

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1084x550

3 health ministers in 1 year

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91cc9c7e80680e06f10fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="428"/>One thing we cannot complain about is that, for once, the world is not ignoring a humanitarian disaster in Nepal. They have even named a variant after us.Worried about the Delta strain spreading in his country, a UK official blamed the ‘Nepal variant’ for spoiling summer holiday plans for many Brits. The tabloid press, but even the BBC, dutifully headlined this, despite a WHO denial about a Nepali strain. But the damage was done. Just google ‘Nepal variant’ now.What the publicity has done is pushed the world to rush oxygen and medical supplies to Nepal. All help is useful in a crisis like this, but much of the aid being flown in contains items that Nepal is already buying in bulk in China.While there was a dire shortage of oxygen cylinders three weeks ago that led to loss of lives, the nature of the emergency has changed. Nepal’s 29 oxygen factories are now working at 100% capacity producing only medical oxygen, and soon there will be a surplus. The problem is not supply, but logistics and equitable distribution.What we really need are vaccines — most urgently for the 1.4 million Nepalis above 65 who got their first dose of Covishield AstraZeneca three months ago, and are now past the default date for their second after India banned its export.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91cf9c7e80680e06f110jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="318"><figcaption>India's total vaccine exports before it was stopped in March.</figcaption></figure>The lockdown should have bought us time for a mass vaccination drive, but once more we squandered two months shutting people in their homes. The restrictions did bring down the daily caseload, but infections are likely to spike again once mobility increases, just like last year.Instead of #NepalVariant trending on Twitter, we need #NepalVaccines to go viral. To be sure, the United States has pledged 80 million surplus doses, but only 7 million of that in the first phase is for the whole of South and Southeast Asia with a population of 1.5 billion. Supply bottlenecks mean the first shipments will not include AstraZeneca.Europe has a stockpile of AstraZeneca and more on order that are not going to be used, either because of slow uptake or because of fears of clots. In France, tens of thousands of doses have gone to waste. Norway and Denmark are not using  AstraZeneca anymore, and some of this may be channeled to Europe’s pledge to donate 100 million doses this year, sell 1.3 billion doses at cost price to low and middle-income countries, and donate another 1.3 billion doses in 2022, mostly through COVAX.The International Monetary Fund (IMF) last week announced a $50 billion plan to vaccinate 40% of the world population within 2021, and 60% by mid-2022. This is all encouraging news if it happens, but the long and short of it is that for Nepalis, neither the second doses nor vaccines for the larger population are getting here any time soon.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91d19c7e80680e06f111jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="282"><figcaption>Number of patients in ICU and ventilators in Nepal in May.</figcaption></figure>Even Andrew Pollard of Oxford University, an old Nepal hand, and one of the developers of the AstraZeneca vaccine says he feels helpless. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/im-sad-vaccines-are-delayed-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/im-sad-vaccines-are-delayed-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEqHFh4Fbf8IcsJ4g-XnTG5qP1SzA">He wrote in a column</a> in this paper recently: ‘I felt so proud when I saw the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-begins-covid-19-vaccination-drive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-begins-covid-19-vaccination-drive/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE6-2fepjLEOU19PSLjzWqAvKa05A">first doses of the Oxford vaccine being administered in Kathmandu</a>, and the hope that it brought to Nepalis, but I am now saddened to hear that further supply is delayed.’On Tuesday, the 60-65 age group in Kathmandu Valley, and 62-65 outside started being vaccinated with the 1 million extra doses of Sinopharm VeroCell donated by China. However, we need to get jabs to at least 19 million Nepali arms in the next few months to reduce the danger of a pre-Dasain surge, not to mention younger cohorts who are likely to be more vulnerable to a predicted third wave. Negotiations with Sinopharm to procure another 2 million doses are bogged down over a confidentiality clause in the contract.The only ‘Nepali variants’ we should be worried about are the country’s feckless and mutated politicians. Prime Minister Oli has replaced five Health Ministers since 2018, three of them since the pandemic began.Since vaccines are unlikely soon, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/3-pronged-strategy-to-save-nepal-from-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/3-pronged-strategy-to-save-nepal-from-covid-19/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFBpfK-x_4CespExs5Gd3dW9_6oMA">public health experts have warned</a> us repeatedly that even after the lockdown is eased, and even if some people are vaccinated, the only way to prevent future surges is through <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/keep-wearing-masks-after-the-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/keep-wearing-masks-after-the-lockdown/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFrVgv5oLBXzAWQyNuTw7uc_DdWQA">proper masks and physical distancing</a>.A recent <a href="https://www.business-standard.com/article/current-affairs/covid-19-crisis-india-draws-lessons-from-bangladesh-s-mask-study-121051401341_1.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.business-standard.com/article/current-affairs/covid-19-crisis-india-draws-lessons-from-bangladesh-s-mask-study-121051401341_1.html&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHgAojjRlhejojvnimKSVT8uOMRbA">Yale study in Bangladesh</a> involving over 300,000 people showed that four simple actions led to a 10-time increase in mask wearing. Their <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1EUhdri6CST9uzw_myffNmyUVPt8_UMsM75NOt5Q-54o/edit" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://docs.google.com/document/d/1EUhdri6CST9uzw_myffNmyUVPt8_UMsM75NOt5Q-54o/edit&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGV_AM4_ATLpwI_uAwFRandfzstdA">four-fold path</a> includes: 1. Giving away free masks, 2. Spread information about how to wear them properly, 3. Get celebrities to promote mask-wearing, 4. Enforce mask-wearing through persuasion and punishment.Official figures <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-covid-19-impact-worse-than-official-figures/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-covid-19-impact-worse-than-official-figures/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH48dysJncU5jxSSYZYwIF57tBcRw">grossly underestimate</a> the spread and fatality from Covid-19 in Nepal. A projection by the <a href="https://covid19.healthdata.org/nepal?view=daily-deaths&amp;tab=trend" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://covid19.healthdata.org/nepal?view%3Ddaily-deaths%26tab%3Dtrend&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1623211108062000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH24lI1y0n0i0mWO_OHRW4ckwQBxA">Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation (IHME)</a> of the University of Washington School of Medicine in Seattle shows that on 31 May when the government reported 96 deaths from Covid-19, the actual number was closer to 363.IHME calculations also show that 1,000 fewer Nepalis will die by 1 September if 95% of people wore masks while outdoors. The government is hinting that the lockdown rules will be eased on 14 June. Since vaccines are still a long way off, our only protection is masks and minimising movement.

Nepal goes viral

<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181148/636a96cc9c7e80680e05dc8ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: MINISTRY OF LABOUR EMPLOYMENT AND SOCIAL SECURITY</figcaption></figure>Politics is dirty. The manpower business is dirtier. Mixing the two can mean the difference of life or death for hundreds of thousands of desperate Nepalis seeking work overseas.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/win-win-migration/">Labour Minister Gokarna Bista</a> was sacked last week in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/honest-heads-roll-in-nepal-reshuffle/">cabinet reshuffle</a> by Prime Minister K P Oli under pressure from the recruitment mafia – the cartel of unscrupulous middlemen who profit from the blood, sweat and tears of fellow Nepalis. The recruiters had been baying for his head ever since Bista started dismantling the corrupt system that profited from exploiting and abusing workers.Immediately after the minister’s removal, the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA) published a press release warning the Nepal government’s Department of Foreign Employment to take decisions only after consultation with them. Is that a threat? You bet it is. And it shows just how powerful the mafia is that it can go about intimidating the state.What is more, NAFEA’s blatant warning was a not-so-subtle ‘you are next’ reminder to Bista’s successor, Rameswar Rai Yadav, not to deign obstruct their rent-seeking activities by pushing through Bista’s reforms.Prime Minsiter Oli ostensibly carried out his long-awaited reshuffle to address <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/four-year-itch/">public disillusionment with his administration’s failure of governance</a>. Given that  honest heads rolled, politicians with questionable reputation were inducted, and corrupt non-performers were retained, the intention was to consolidate Oli’s position ahead of his <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/prime-ministers-health-condition-under-wraps/">prolonged absence for health reasons</a>. It had nothing to do with rewarding integrity and effectiveness.Bista represented a much-needed voice in the foreign employment industry, but his strong stance against unscrupulous recruiters cost him his job. Within weeks of assuming power, he stopped workers from going to Malaysia in order to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kleptocrats-of-kathmandu-and-kualalampur/">break the syndicate</a> that was overcharging workers. His ministry amended the Foreign Employment Act, reducing the number of manpower companies from over 1,200 to 850 by increasing their security deposit and facilitating mergers. This was to ensure that only professional and honest organisations remained in the industry, and to stop recruitment companies from cutting competition by engaging in visa trading.Bista was aggressively pursuing <a href="a">bilateral agreements with countries including Malaysia</a>, Japan, UAE and Mauritius, which included provisions on equal pay for equal work and zero cost for migrant workers. To minimise fraudulent job offers his ministry required that all demand letters for workers be verified at Nepali diplomatic missions abroad. The agreement with Japan barred recruitment agencies, given the record of aspirant workers paying more than Rs1 million each for opportunities in Japan. These pro-worker reforms cut the illegitimate profits of recruitment agencies who had it easy in the past and consequently, vociferously contested his position.Bista was starting to get crossborder recognition for his initiatives. Following the signing of the Nepal-Malaysia MoU, a writ submitted at the Supreme Court in Dhaka against a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-and-malaysia-rewrite-rules-for-migrant-labour/">recruitment syndicate in Bangladesh</a> that sent workers to Malaysia referred to Bista's initiative as a model. He took a lead in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/labour-pain/">Colombo Process</a> to bring labour-sending countries together.Yet, his <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-and-malaysia-rewrite-rules-for-migrant-labour/">sacking was expected</a>. A recent <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/reducing-labour-pain/">editorial in this paper</a> warned about how many wanted the Malaysia agreement to fail. In the last 20 months, the wave of rumours about Bista’s possible ousting had demoralised his ministry. Bista’s comrades in the party were protecting the mafia, and were also jealous of his popularity as a can-do labour minister, and in his previous job as water resource minister.Reshuffling politicians comes with consequences that are not immediately apparent. The bureaucrats Bista inspired are despondent. The message this episode conveys is discouraging for any Nepali who wants to innovate, break the status quo, and who does not want to be complacent. It is too early to judge the new labour minister's capacity or integrity. But Bista’s unceremonious ouster sends the message to others in government is to lie low and play it safe.  Bista’s zero-cost migration initiative would have been difficult to enforce not just for Nepal but for all labour-sending countries faced with this shared challenge. With his departure, the Oli administration has sent a clear message that predatory recruiters are free to swindle poor Nepali workers as much as they want, exploiting their desperation for jobs.Lasts Thursday on 21 November, Bista walked out of Singha Darbar after his farewell event and took a taxi home. He looked undefeated, perhaps validated by the outpouring of support in the social media. His last words to his despondent team and gathered media: “The post of a minister is temporary. Life itself is temporary. I am coming out of this with more inspiration and vigour to serve the country.” <h2>10 years ago this week</h2> Ten years ago this week the Nepali Times edition  <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/478">#478 (27 Nov 2009 - 03 Dec 2009)</a> talked about how the prime minister was in Singapore for health treatment and the country was in disarray. Sound familiar? Excerpt from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16526#.XdtzyoMza70">editorial:</a>It is the curse of Nepali politics that a party boasts about its democratic credentials by <a href="http://www.nepalitimes.com/2009/11/27/315">'allowing' parliament to function for three days</a>’. The most inclusive house ever elected in Nepali history was blocked for five months, there is a logjam of legislation waiting for ratification, the budget delay deadlocked development, and important national issues were not debated.Meanwhile, despite the drama of the NC and Maoist leaders <a href="http://www.nepalitimes.com/2009/11/27/313">meeting around a hospital bed</a> in Singapore, there is no end in sight to the political deadlock. At this stage, it is difficult to say what NC Chairman Girija Prasad Koirala seeks to achieve by forming a 'high-level political mechanism' when grassroots politics bristles with antipathy and apathy towards the governing coalition.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/478"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181148/636a96cf9c7e80680e05dc8bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="789"></a>

1250x600

BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS

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

The Himalaya is not fragile

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

My father’s son

Singha Bahadur Lama worked for six years in Malaysia, but back home in Nepal he is now earning more than he ever did overseas. Here in his village 60km east of Kathmandu, Lama now harvests Buddhachitta seeds from sacred trees that grow in the mountains, and turns them into prayer bead necklaces revered in Tibetan Buddhism. The Buddhachitta tree (Ziziphus budhensis) is indigenous to Nepal and grows in the mountains of Kavre district, and demand boomed after the Dalai Lama proclaimed that the seeds found in Nepal were the best. People from Kavre had gone to Bodh Gaya 12 years ago and presented the Dalai Lama with Buddhachitta prayer beads. Not long after, while speaking in Taiwan the Dalai Lama told followers that the seeds from Nepal had special powers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8" data-rendition-name="original" width="737" height="536" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama shows a visiting journalist different types of Buddhachitta seeds. Single-faced beads are the rarest and most valuable, as are the smallest 8mm beads. A prayer necklace made of 108 beads would easily cost Rs1.5 million (over $10,630). “We cannot say if our trees will give smaller beads or even how many faces or clear eyes, it’s all natural,” says Lama, who now works as a consultant, advising people all over Nepal about planting the tree, and has since spread it across the country. Four years ago, a Chinese middleman made 7mm plastic cups to cover the seeds, hoping the trees would produce smaller pods. It did not work, and the trees died. Such is the demand for high-quality Buddhachitta beads that a group of 20 men employed by a Chinese dealer cut down a tree along the Rosi River last year. The harvest from that tree had made $212,600 the year before. With that kind of price, the trees are in danger of being chopped down. &nbsp; Lama himself used to make Rs10 million ($70,880) from the seeds of each tree. With this money, he built new houses and sent his daughter to Japan, all with Buddhachitta income. But the market for the seeds is volatile.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama invested Rs10 million when prices were high ten years ago, but he lost most of that when the prices collapsed for bigger seeds.&nbsp; He adds: “That year the demand was only for small seeds, and it has only been three years since the prices have risen again for seeds that make no sound when you shake them.”&nbsp; HISTORY Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche left seeds of Buddhachitta while meditating in the Temal region of Kavre district in the 8th century as a blessing. He is known in the Himalaya as the ‘Second Buddha’ whose birth was foretold by the Buddha himself, and spread Buddhism in Tibet. Now, almost every household from the Tamang community here has on average 50 trees. The tree thrives on gravel and sandy soil, needs to be protected from excess water, and can grow up to 10 meters high. It starts bearing fruit annually from its third year and one tree lives for 90 years. The fruits are handpicked every June and July, and then have to be processed by boiling the seeds to remove their hard outer skin. The seeds are then dried in the sun for a few days.&nbsp; “Our families have been growing Buddhachitta for generations, but it started becoming hugely profitable only about 12 years ago, it has become a cash crop and has even replaced staples like maize,” says Dev Lama, 55.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Dev Lama</figcaption> </figure>  What helps is that Buddhachitta is not a high-maintenance crop, it just needs some weeding, watering, and protection from hailstorms and pesticides. Once it matures, it does not need much care, and farmers intercrop it with other grain.&nbsp; “You don’t have to work on it every year like maize, which needs to be planted year after year,” explains Shova Shrestha, 33. “We also continue to grow other vegetables and spices, all of which help to preserve soil nutrients.” Generally, farmers do not sell directly to Chinese traders but deal with local middlemen who take a cut before they take it to the Chinese traders who lodge in Kathmandu during the harvest season. But the bulk of the profit is made by Chinese wholesalers across the border. &nbsp; And now with the proliferation of the plant, and with nearly every family growing several trees, farmers sometimes struggle to find buyers and are often severely short-changed, as was the case with Maiya Tamang’s family.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Maiya Tamang</figcaption> </figure>  “I wasn’t home that day two years ago, but my sons later told me that my husband sold an entire tree for just Rs1,500,” recalls Tamang, 60. “We asked him why he sold it for a price that wouldn’t even buy a sack of rice, and he just shrugged.” Tamang did make a profit two years ago, but last year’s crop was destroyed by a hailstorm. Despite this, the bead business has augmented the income of a family dependent on subsistence agriculture. &nbsp; A neighbour, Sonam Tamang, had a few Buddhachitta trees in his backyard and has bought saplings from a nursery to expand. Saplings cost Rs500, but it is double that for plants that give high value seeds. Says Sonam Tamang: “The middlemen sometimes cheat us by offering much less than the seeds are worth, and they don’t allow us to speak directly with the Chinese buyers. But even if we did, there would be a language barrier.” Meanwhile, Singha Bahadur Lama who started out as a Buddhachitta farmer now owns a nursery and is a dealer in saplings himself. Some Nepalis have tried to sell directly in China, but face added costs of travel and hotel while there. &nbsp; With contributions from Qian Sun, Global Voices.

Sacred seed feeds boom

Dimar Chaudhary was born and raised in Old Padampur, the village inside what is now Chitwan National Park before it was dsignated a protected area. His Tharu community, as well as other indigenous groups, traditionally relied on Chitwan’s jungles and rivers for generations. Chaudhary himself had grown up collecting medicinal plants and wild vegetables, gathering wood, and grazing cattle in the forest. Chitwan, along with much of Nepal’s Tarai, was plagued by malaria until a US-supported DDT spraying campaign to wipe out the disease in the district in the 1950s. This opened the valley up to trans-migration of farmers from the hills. Before that, Chitwan was inhabited entirely by indigenous people: 90% of the district’s population was Tharu, and the rest were Bote, Mushar, Darai and Majhi communities. In 1973 Chitwan National Park became Nepal's first protected area and in 1996, the Nepal government introduced the Buffer Zone Management Rule under the National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act to manage forests surrounding protected areas, and ensure local participation in parks management. Old Padampur was subsequently relocated outside the park. Ntional parks formed buffer zone user committees (BZUCs) to manage and oversee community forests. Hundreds of thousands of local people were directly involved in managing buffer zone community forests across the country. Over three decades, these forests have not only made conservation collaborative, but also helped to mitigate wildlife-related crimes and human wildlife conflict. In 2014, 2015 and 2016, Nepal achieved zero poaching for its three flagship species: rhinos, tigers and elephants. But while these user communities have made wildlife conservation participatory, the process hasn’t been inclusive of Nepal’s indigenous and underserved communities. In 2022, WWF supported Community Conservation Nepal to collect data on natural resources used by Tharu indigenous people before the establishment of Chitwan National Park. The project also looked into the inclusion of indigenous, women, Dalit and disabled communities in the Baghauda, Paachpandav, Meghauli, Mrigakunja, and Amaltari Buffer Zone User Committees (BZUC) as well as the Someshwor, Gardi Chure, Radha Krishna, and Baghmara Buffer Zone Community Forests (BZCF).  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251210141228_83a5b021c62b6c4a67888e5eee85d3fdcba3fd34d00e581996213d1ae10d6977.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251210141228_83a5b021c62b6c4a67888e5eee85d3fdcba3fd34d00e581996213d1ae10d6977" data-rendition-name="original" width="1342" height="941" loading="lazy" alt="BZUC map"></figure>  BARRIERS TO INCLUSION The survey found that women are underrepresented in all the BZUCs despite women user groups being larger. Nepal’s Buffer Zone laws dictate that each BZUC has 13 members. Each BZUC is made up of nine units, and as many representatives are elected from those units. The elected members have the authority to choose the remaining four members. This meant that indigenous peoples, marginalised groups, and women have a far lower chance of being elected. Indeed, out of the total members, Paachpandav and Mrigakunja BCUZs had four women, Meghauli had three women, and Baghauda had only one woman, whereas Amaltari user committee had no woman member. In contrast, the BZCF are relatively more inclusive of women, with two out of four surveyed BZCF comprising half women members. Additionally, some grassroots user committees are made up entirely of women. Most women members of the user committees are not appointed through elections, but chosen by elected male members, and are not given positions of leadership. “Women have been the ones protecting the forests ever since the concept of forest conservation initially emerged,” one female participant told us during a focus group discussion. People would get angry when the women stopped them from cutting down trees and grass, and grazing cattle in the jungles, she recalled, adding, “We were dedicated to the user committees. However, we are no longer involved in the committees, nor are we invited to meetings.” When asked about the absence of women in the user committees, one BZUC chairperson responded, “There are only men here because they won the election. Women are unwilling to run for the election. How will they fit into the committee if no woman has ever run for election?” However, not only are women deprived of the chance to contest elections, the chances of them winning polls are also very low because a majority of the positions in the committee will already have been allocated by political parties to their male cadres. Women from marginalised communities face further hurdles.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251210141228_7ee7dc43b925b4d6e97bfdc5a02df85d4d828e8a82eb00d3086217baf2438b43.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251210141228_7ee7dc43b925b4d6e97bfdc5a02df85d4d828e8a82eb00d3086217baf2438b43" data-rendition-name="original" width="959" height="508" loading="lazy" alt="BZUC "></figure>  “No male member from the Musahar community has been elected in the user community, if they had, they could have suggested that women from our community be included in the committee as well,” said a female participant from the Musahar community. While the native Musahar and Bote people lack representation in the BZUC, indigenous people did make up the majority of the members in the committees, while Dalit members were included in some collectives. However, only one committee is led by an indigenous person. The others are chaired by upper-caste hill migrants. In addition, no committee had any representative with disabilities. One of the key reasons for the under-representation of marginalised communities in Nepal’s BZUC is its non-inclusive policy. When Nepal’s Constitution was promulgated in 2015, residents living in proximity to protected areas across Nepal had hoped that policies relating to buffer zones and their governance would be reformed to reflect Nepal’s new socio-political reality. But this has not been the case. However, this has not discouraged indigenous Nepalis, who have continued to demand buffer zone policy reforms that ensure the inclusion of women, indigenous and marginalised communities. In addition to policy revision, it is necessary to reform the buffer zone election so that it is more participatory for underserved communities. Reforms should also regulate the number of members in a user group. Similarly, the budget allocated for buffer zones must be used on activities that benefit conservation instead of local infrastructure development. Women, people with disabilities, indigenous and marginalised communities should be the primary beneficiaries of budget dispensation. Crop damage compensation, which currently is Rs10,000, can be increased by five times to Rs50,000. Policy revisions should ultimately guarantee the rights of indigenous communities like the Sonaha, Bote and Musahar to practice their culture and traditional livelihoods and receive a formal education. Buffer Zone User Committees must apply indigenous conservation practices for park management. Birendra Mahato is an elected member of the Ratnanagar Municipality Ward 6 and Founder Chair of the Tharu Culture Museum Research Centre in Sauraha.