The fact that we in Nepal in this day and age are having to block a bill that perpetuates polygamy, and that there are voices justifying it, shows just how ossified the ruling class still is.
It is one step forward, two steps back, and is not surprising given entrenched patriarchy in mainstream society and disregard for constitutionally-stipulated reservation quotas for women at all levels.
Here is a brief recap for those of you not following this saga: a proposed amendment to Article 175 of the Criminal Code attempts to legalise polygamy where an extramarital affair has resulted in a child. It does not state how many partners and children will be accepted, potentially leading to more problems.&nbsp;
Further, the pretext of protecting children’s and women’s rights purported by the bill is not even valid, legally or otherwise.
Existing civil and criminal codes have mechanisms to establish paternity of a child, not taking into account the circumstances of their birth, providing a clear pathway for birth registration and citizenship. It also allows for inheritance to all children, regardless of the marital status of parents.
But many men refuse to recognise children born out of an extramarital affair, fearing they might be prosecuted for polygamy, or have to further fragment inheritance. But an extramarital affair is not criminalised, unlike polygamy.&nbsp;
We would do better to resolve this confusion, as well as the lack of clarity in the bureaucracy that asks for a marriage certificate for the civil registration of children when it is not even mandatory.
As for protecting women involved with married men, marriage is not always the solution, other mechanisms for reparation should be looked into. She might also be as guilty as the man, and what of the justice for the first wife? Children are not collateral damage, but they are also not a ticket to legitimise a misdeed.
Even so, if people are not happy in a marriage, they can choose to divorce and remarry. A better solution would be to make the path to legal separation easier and more just for both parties. At present, a man can rarely get a divorce without his wife’s consent, owing to social disadvantages that women face. It is less complicated for women.
“It is unlikely that the bill in its current form will be passed, but the fact that something like this has even come up and we have to have this discussion is a huge relapse,” says lawyer Neha Gurung.
Equally problematic is what the bill does not say in not so many words: that a woman’s identity is her marriage, her husband, her family. She cannot exist as herself.&nbsp;
Polygamy was criminalised with the enactment of the Muluki Civil Code 2017 and the Muluki Criminal Code 2017 after decades of advocacy by rights groups. This amendment not just threatens to undermine progressive work of the past, but also sets a dangerous precedent.&nbsp;
“A step like this can take Nepal back by at least 30 years,” warns advocate Diksha Kandel. “And female protection is just a guise, this is not even a gender issue although women will suffer more if this bill were to pass. No one should be allowed double marriage, regardless of their gender.”
Last month, Prime Minister K P Oli urged people to marry “soon” after turning 20 and have three children by age 30. There may be biological merits to having children earlier, and Nepal’s ageing population will be a problem, but it is none of the prime minister’s business if, when or how many children women decide to have.&nbsp;
And it is hypocritical to ask women to have more children when the government cannot even guarantee that they get citizenship in the mother’s name. Till today, civil registration for marriage must be carried out in a man’s constituency.
Nepal’s laws are still being made by men for men. Women are there just to reproduce. There is outrage and ridicule on social media about the polygamy amendment proposal.&nbsp;
Wrote advocate Aanchal Adhikari on LinkedIn: ‘Legalizing second marriage on the grounds of pregnancy is not just a legal loophole, it is a moral failure. It emboldens infidelity, erases the pain of the first wife, and degrades women to mere vessels of reproduction.’
Nepal’s former ambassador to Australia Lucky Sherpa wrote on her Facebook: ‘Any move to legalize polygamy or other discriminatory provisions against women is a direct violation of our Constitution and Nepal’s international commitments.’
The amendment is drafted by the Ministry of Law, Justice and Parliamentary Affairs, no less. It has been the judiciary, not the legislature or executive that have upheld women’s rights in Nepal in the past.&nbsp;
In response to anger in the public sphere, Law Minister Ajay Kumar Chaurasiya clarified that the draft will be amended if certain wordings are objectionable.
But it is not the wording that is the problem, it is the intent. How can a nanny state even think of rectifying infidelity by justifying polygamy?&nbsp;
Sonia Awale

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Nanny State

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f379c7e80680e0b7961jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1373" height="914"/><figcaption>All photos: SRIJANALAYA/THE ASIA FOUNDATION</figcaption></figure>Rajib does not like school. His dreams are filled with snakes, pulling him into dark wells. He stares at his own reflection in the mirror, transformed by anxiety. The boy withdraws into himself, trudging against watercolour skies from one page to the next.When Rajib’s older brother arrives from Australia, he brings with him a gaming set. During one of the games, the boys enter a dark tunnel, and the brother asks: “Bhai, it’s pretty dark in here, are you scared?”Rajib responds: “No, I only get scared when I’m at school...”But the tunnel takes a sinister turn when villains show up. The snakes from Rajib’s nightmares shed their skins to reveal his classmates. He cries and finally shares with his brother the secret that has been eating him up all this time.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f3a9c7e80680e0b7962jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1197" height="821"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the book  गयल केटो (Absent Boy) by Bina Theeng and illustrators Dristi &amp; Keepa Manandhar, Rajib is bullied and suffers from the resulting anxiety. It is one of six new  books produced by <a href="https://srijanalaya.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Srijanalaya</a> in collaboration with The Asia Foundation's<a href="https://www.letsreadasia.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> Let's Read Nepal</a> initiative.The project brought together six authors and six illustrators to design books on children's rights that address topics such as bullying, harassment, identities, gender- and caste-based discrimination and juvenile justice.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/milestone-in-tharu-childrens-literature/"> Milestone in Tharu children’s literature</a>, Alisha Sijapati <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/this-author-is-an-alien/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Books for young readers</a> by authors writing in languages of Nepal are rare. Even rarer are books that deal with the torment and confusion of being a child, so much of which goes unnoticed and overlooked by adults. Often, there is no vocabulary to articulate difficult thoughts and feelings – and even adults do not know what to say.Another book छ्याँबले (Chhyanbale) written by Tirtha Gurung and illustrated by Roseena Sakya is narrated by a mother swallow. Set in the mountain village of Sikles, which also called Chwiuli (barn swallow) locally the book follows an eponymous young boy who cannot walk and is bullied by his peers. Woven together are themes of loss and hope – literally a thing with feathers in the context of the book.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f3d9c7e80680e0b7963jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1196" height="820">“The inspiration for the story came from my own childhood,” says Tirtha Gurung who, like Chhyanbale, was unable to walk for a long time. “But all children grow at their own pace,” he adds, “and the book aims to give hope to parents as well, that it takes time and there is no reason to worry or feel bad.”The musical story unfolds in warm yellow and orange and fresh green through the pages as light slants and curves giving the impression of someone looking over without rest, aiming to protect.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f409c7e80680e0b7964jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1455" height="924">The artwork is similar in सुनौलो सुँगुर (The Golden Pig) by Swapnil Smriti and illustrator Swornim Shakya. It is the story of Lingyok, a young boy in Panchthar, also bullied by his classmates and teacher because of his family profession of rearing pigs. The rainy and thunderous palette mimics the unrest felt by Lingyok.Illustrations by Sapana Sanjeevni and Pallavi Payal for अम्बरको धुन (Ambar’s Tune) by Pranika Koyu on other hand is inspired by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/vibrant-mithila-art-thrives-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">vibrant Mithila art</a>. The book is a day in the life of Ambar who is wheelchair-bound, and each line and shape, all larger-than-life, frame the lucid text to tell the story of boundless imagination.“We wanted to reflect Ambar’s voice and character as closely as possible in our art,” explains Sapana Sanjeevani: “Mithila art with its two dimensional form helps to express his simple and flowing language.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f439c7e80680e0b7965jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1196" height="818">Sarita Pariyar’s उत्सुकता (Curiosity) is illustrated by Rupak Raj Sunuwar, and takes a more fabled approach to tell a powerful story of Dalit children which takes place in an entomic world, with industrious ants as protagonists.  ‘This is not an imaginary story. This is a story even more fearsome – <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-caste-struggle/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the plights of caste-based discriminations</a>,’ read the first lines.“I was fascinated by weaver ants and how they use their saliva to make their homes, and this mirrored in how Dalit women use their saliva in sewing clothes which are then worn by the people of so-called upper caste.” says Rupak Sunuwar.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f469c7e80680e0b7966jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1493" height="945">Narrated by a young weaver ant, Utsukta the story poses tough questions at society’s hypocrisies. She wants to understand why she should come second to her male classmate who copied her answers in exam, or why Pantheni bajai, who ‘reeks of raw milk and cow dung’ snaps at her to stay away before sprinkling purifying water on the clothes Utsukta has carefully brought for her.Ujjwala Mahajan's जुभी (Juvie), is a much darker fable of children in juvenile homes, illustrated by Alina Chhantel in the many shades of red and black, with barbed wires running across the pages.What is striking about this surreal and sensitive story is the multitude of eyes that grow on the children’s skins, as though constantly watched and judged by the world outside.“Books about children's rights are usually didactic, and we have an image in our heads about people who are punished for breaking the law as irredeemable and violent people,” she says, “and with Juvie we wanted to break that narrative.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101148/63720f499c7e80680e0b7967jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1197" height="818">Creators met young adults in Bhaktapur Juvenile Centre before writing the book that may be too sombre for children, but both Maharjan and Chhantel wanted it to be representative of the people it was about.She says, “We believed that being honest to their story, reflecting the seriousness and discomfort, would help get the feeling across to the readers, and encourage them to be more empathetic and accountable.”Pallavi Payal hopes the books will be able to encourage more writers and illustrators to create educational materials for children in Nepal in languages that are easy to understand and relate to. She says: "Children want to read books that make them feel they are not alone.”The books are available <a href="https://www.letsreadasia.org/all/new">online</a> as PDFs in Nepali and English. To request a copy of जुभी (Juvie), please reach out to Ritica Lacoul of The Asia Foundation at ritica.lacoul@asiafoundation.org, or Srijanalaya at srijanalaya@gmail.com.Watch the book readings and conversations with authors and illustrators on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/srijanalaya">Srijanalaya's Facebook</a>.

Ashish Dhakal

For children, about children

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Early on Monday morning, a bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu plunged off the highway in Dhading killing 19 passengers. Two weeks ago, another bus fell into the Tama Kosi in Manthali, killing 12. A few days before that a bus crash in Baitadi killed 13 people.&nbsp; In just the month before Nepal's election, more than 50 people have been killed in road traffic accidents. Most of these cannot be called 'accidents'. They are a direct result of poorly maintained highways and lack of enforcement of traffic discipline. Political parties in Nepal have rolled out their election manifestos, and voters are once again presented with a flood of promises. Page after page, these documents list megawatts and microcredit, highways and airports, jobs and investment. In these manifestos, growth is quantified, projects itemised, revenue forecast — and there are even threats to beat up contractors who do not finish their jobs. But when everything is declared a priority the stale promises are empty. The voter is left confused as to where the party’s loyalties really lie. Will any of these plans and pledges actually ever materialise and help Nepalis live longer, safer, healthier lives? The main job of any accountable government is to protect its citizens, not so much from foreign enemies but from domestic mismanagement. And this means the most basic test the new government should be made to pass is whether it can ensure basic well-being and protection for all its people. The problems of safety, health, and survival remain unresolved for most Nepalis, and are quietly eroding their lives. In the past year alone, the country’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">roads and highways claimed more than 2,300</a> lives. An estimated 41,000 Nepalis die each year directly because of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous">air pollution</a>, and their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/air-pollution-killing-season-starts-early">lifespans are lessened by 3.4 years</a>.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health">Non-communicable diseases</a> now account for well over half of total deaths in the country. And even where survival has improved, deprivation remains. Chronic malnutrition continues to haunt communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mass-migration-from-muktikot">Nepal’s western mountains</a> despite progress in maternal and child health.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="683" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  These are the lived realities of most Nepalis, and it is here that development can deliver its most immediate returns. A rising GDP, in and of itself, does not make roads safer, clean polluted air, or provide enough nutrition to children. Such outcomes demand intentional, granular policies that confront the specific, everyday problems shaping people’s lives.&nbsp; Macroeconomic growth, trade and investment are important, but these alone cannot guarantee improvements health and safety. The word ‘growth’, after all, is also synonymous with malignancy. Economic progress and human protection are correlated only when governance deliberately links them. Impact on life is the unit in which ordinary Nepalis calculate progress. What is needed, then, is a governing philosophy measurable in these same terms: a ‘life-first’ standard where every policy, budget, and reform can be understood and judged by its impact on protecting and extending human life. Such a ‘life-first’ approach would scrutinise three aspects of every policy. First, whether the policy prevents loss of life. A death is termed preventable if better, more coordinated response systems and regulations could have avoided it (vaccines, drugs, road safety, clean drinking water). A newly built six-lane highway <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/highway-accidents-are-no-accident-in-nepal">can be a death trap</a> due to poor design or lax enforcement of safety rules. If neonatal deaths continue in a district despite hospitals being present, or if malnutrition claims lives in predominantly agricultural regions, they too are failures. Preventable deaths also cluster where accountability is less direct. Just last year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/suicides-a-pandemic-within-a-pandemic">Nepal recorded 6,866 suicides</a>, with nearly 20 lives lost every day, yet these deaths fail to prompt any serious examination of governance. The same holds for fatalities linked to domestic or communal violence, alcohol and substance misuse, or ‘natural’ disasters, which register as ‘tragedies without remedy’ rather than as outcomes policy can influence. But when avoidable loss of life recurs at scale, isolated incidents become patterns, and patterns reveal systemic neglect. Saving lives, however, is only the first step, and what matters just as much is the quality of years lived. Nepal’s life expectancy now stands at 71 years, yet many citizens spend years in avoidable disability, untreated chronic illness, or mental distress. A life- first government must ask not only whether people live, but whether they thrive. Are citizens able to pursue education, work, and family life without fear of preventable harm? Do communities have access to clean air and water, nutritious food, and basic healthcare? Can a teenager anywhere in Nepal imagine a future not foreclosed by premature marriage, or untreated depression?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940" data-rendition-name="original" width="2529" height="1427" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  Thriving requires policies that prevent suffering and promote well-being in addition to ensuring survival.&nbsp; Finally, governance must consider graceful aging. Elderly Nepalis should not be left to navigate disease, poverty, or isolation alone. Social systems, healthcare, and community support must enable their continued participation and dignified well-being. Adopting this three-layered standard would gradually reorient how success of any new government is defined. Transportation would be judged by fatalities reduced on the roads. Electricity generation would be measured by whether households can switch from firewood dependence to smoke-free electric stoves.&nbsp; Increase in annual rice harvest must translate into better nutrition, reducing the prevalence of chronic diseases like diabetes. Accountability must follow problems rather than stop at Singha Darbar. Only then will politicians and bureaucrats eventually recognise that their work converges on the same human endpoint. Critics will argue that economies are complex, trade-offs are inevitable, and that governance cannot be reduced to a single metric.But, as Acemoglu and Robinson show in their book <a href="https://ia801506.us.archive.org/27/items/WhyNationsFailTheOriginsODaronAcemoglu/Why-Nations-Fail_-The-Origins-o-Daron-Acemoglu.pdf">Why Nations Fail</a>, the key difference between prosperity and poverty lies in inclusive institutions that empower citizens and create broad incentives for well-being.&nbsp; Extractive institutions concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few while keeping the majority trapped in neglect. Nepal’s governance has remained a striking example of extraction. If lawmakers in the new Parliament continue to resist changes that would save and improve the lives of ordinary citizens, the same systemic rot will persist for generations to come. A life-first mentality can cut through this inertia by clarifying the moral centre of governance and reminding policymakers that behind every policy failure lies human cost. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-hunger">Every mother in Bajura</a> with a child going hungry at night, every farmer in the Madhes unable to afford medical care, and every family that has lost <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">a migrant son to kidney failure</a> understands the true <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating">value of a life saved</a>. Life is the one metric that transcends ideology, ethnicity, and region. Centering governance on this single, focused metric, can shift an election from a contest of rhetoric to a contest of evidence. Which party ensured access to safe water and basic healthcare? Which made work at home and abroad safer and less exploitative. Which measurably extended healthy years of life for ordinary citizens? Health is wealth. By improving the healthy lifespan of citizens economic prosperity would follow naturally. A ‘life-first’ governance model would therefore compel Nepal to address the underlying structural failures across all sectors, rather than merely alleviating their symptoms. The GenZ protest that toppled the government last September was, at its core, a demand for accountability and a rejection of politics as usual. But as the country edges closer to the polls, that clarity has started to dissipate. Parties are now echoing the language of reform, but the public discourse remains dominated by promises that feel disconnected from Nepal’s most immediate and basic priorities. Every preventable death, every hungry child, and every neglected elder becomes a direct failure of governance and a moral debt the state must answer for. It is how we can make sure we keep the next government in check. The writers are Nepali GenZ students of biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Nepal’s life or death election

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible.&nbsp; In the lap of Langtang lie misty meadows that are carpeted with alpine flowers during the monsoon. It was here that Gyalbu Tamang (pictured, right) spent his childhood accompanying his father Pasang Norbu to high pastures, to milk nak and make cheese. Norbu himself was taught to produce Emmentaler cheese by two Swiss experts in the 1950s. Switzerland and Nepal are marking the 70th anniversary of diplomatic ties this year, and the cheese plant in Kyangjin was one of the first the Swiss were involved in.&nbsp; Langtang had surplus milk, and the idea was to turn it into cheese to raise nutrition levels. “The Swiss were very hard-working, and were not used to the laid back attitude of Nepalis,” remembers Gyalbu Tamang, now 50. “The children in Langtang were scared of the tall blonde foreigners, but I got along with them.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Gyalbu remembers sleeping outdoors with his father, under the stars and gazing at Langtang Lirung luminescent in the moonlight. After the milk was boiled, he helped carry it down in 40 litre churns to Kyangjin for processing.&nbsp; The plant was handed over to the state-run Dairy Development Corporation (DDC). Norbu Lama retired, but cheese making was too ingrained in him. So he bought a dozen yaks and Gyalbu helped him sell the milk. At 18, Gyalbu joined the cheese plant, and 32 years later, he is still there – now manager. “I had learnt everything from my father, so it was easy for me,” Gyalbu recalls. “Trekking boomed in Langtang and there was high demand for cheese. It raised the income of farmers.” 2015 EARTHQUAKE&nbsp; But all that came crashing down just before noon on 25 April 2015 when the earthquake triggered an avalanche that buried Langtang &nbsp;village. More than 300 people, many of them trekkers, were killed. “My father was grazing yaks, and we found him five days later, thrown off by the avalanche. My mother was buried in the ruins of her home,” Gyalbu says. Fortunately, his wife and three children in Kyangjin were safe in their damaged house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="882" height="661" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Twenty-seven herders and 400 yaks also perished. The cheese plant was flattened. Even before the disaster, an ageing population, out-migration, and better education meant that fewer Langtangpa were interested in cheese-making. The DDC’s mismanagement also took its toll, and at Rs80 / litre, it was not feasible to herd yaks anymore. The Swiss stepped in again to help rebuild the plant on condition that the price of milk be raised. The DDC agreed to pay up to Rs110/litre depending on fat content, and that price has remained the same.&nbsp; Gyalbu Tamang was in Kathmandu this week, trying again to convince the DDC to raise the price of milk to make cheese-making a worthwhile occupation for the younger generation.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  There are only three yak ranches left and the numbers of yak, nak and dzo have shrunk. In its heyday, Langtang used to produce 5,000kg of cheese per year. Today, it is down to 800kg. The cheese is sold in Kathmandu for about Rs2,000 per kg, but the plant has no savings to upgrade its 80-year-old equipment. “We are on our own, there is not much help from the government or Langtang people overseas,” laments Gyalbu. “I do not know what the future holds, but I will keep making cheese as long as there is milk, and as long as I am able.”&nbsp;

Langtang Emmentaler

This week 30 years ago, the Maoists launched their armed struggle from the rugged mountains of Rukum, attacking a police post in Athbiskot on 13 February 1996 (Editorial, page 2). Today, Rukum has been partitioned into East and West, and is an electoral battleground for the 5 March poll between the former Supreme Commander of the Maoist party Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda) and his erstwhile guerrilla commander Janardan Sharma (Prabhakar).&nbsp; The Maoist revolution was all about liberating the people of districts like Rukum from poverty, oppression and feudalism. The comrades promised to end inequality, social injustice, and exclusion in an insurgency they called ‘People’s War’.&nbsp; Today, 20 years after the conflict ended with the loss of 17,000 lives, not much has changed in both parts of Rukum. A motorable road does connect the district to the rest of the country, and it is the route many people have taken to migrate out.&nbsp; In one village in Rukum West, some young men paid as much as Rs8 million to human traffickers to take them to the United States. Some reached the US, but have been deported back to Nepal. Dahal has dropped the label ‘Maoist’ from his newly minted Nepali Communist Party and is contesting from Rukum East, while Sharma split from the party and is contesting from Rukum West as a Pragatisheel Loktantrik Party candidate. Newer faces from Rastriya Swatantra Party and Ujyalo Nepal Party are also in the race. Rukum was affected by the 2023 earthquake that killed 153 people and damaged 10,000 homes in Rukum West and Jajarkot. Many health facilities and schools collapsed, and one of them was Bheri Dovan Secondary School.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_4440ee7eeb935805db344c3bd91f7ed285fc9eec6910ee0d33bfc9410fa15acd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260221020232_4440ee7eeb935805db344c3bd91f7ed285fc9eec6910ee0d33bfc9410fa15acd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>This is my school by the river, seen from above. Chitrakala, 16</figcaption> </figure>  Reconstruction has been slow, but Finland and UNICEF have built a semi-permanent transitional learning centre with a gender segregated sanitation facility.&nbsp; STORIES IN PICTURES &nbsp; The project gave digital point-and-shoot cameras to 15 students between ages 11-16 who were interested in photography to take pictures of their daily lives. Eight girls and seven boys got a three-day basic training in photography. “The reason we chose this school was because it was completely destroyed and they have quite a few children from marginalised communities,” says Sabrina Guruacharya of UNICEF. “We wanted to invest in the creative skills of children and provide the space for them to tell their own stories in pictures.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_73b47852cd98061fc6b938273c7e40dbe5b8b8d0dbd9c528c2c1d295cd1b5ad1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260221020232_73b47852cd98061fc6b938273c7e40dbe5b8b8d0dbd9c528c2c1d295cd1b5ad1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>During the busy rice-harvesting season under Kartik’s gentle sun, farmers of Chinabagar, West Rukum. Lokendra, 14 </figcaption> </figure>  The theme of the photography workshop was to reflect on how the community was rebuilding after the earthquake. But instead of photos of destruction and ruined houses, the children took pictures of their family members, neighbours, friends, beloved pets and household livestock.&nbsp; They also took pictures of bridges, roads and telecom towers, neighbours harvesting crops, family members playing. In one frame, a girl is cooking over a traditional stove even as she scrolls through her smartphone. In another, six neighbourhood children are made to pose in a line -- a heartwarming portrayal of childhood innocence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_4a880ec63b39d5781e5fd240c7892fbb2a44287525b0e5f5af7b7fb44f72147f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260221020232_4a880ec63b39d5781e5fd240c7892fbb2a44287525b0e5f5af7b7fb44f72147f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>My sister was cooking while using her phone. Srishti, 13</figcaption> </figure>  “We are looking at new ways of storytelling that are inclusive and where young people are at the heart of the story. It’s their story, it’s them narrating,” says Guruacharya. Selected photographs were exhibited at Patan Darbar Square in January, as well as in the Rukum West school itself.&nbsp; The project is a direct beneficiary of an initiative in Finland where students raise money every time they walk to school. Finnish children then donate the money to their school, which in turn helps fund education in countries like Nepal.&nbsp; In a video about the program, participating students talk about learning the basics of photography such as different image sizes and camera angles, shooting at eye level and avoiding digital zoom for better results, understanding the perspective of light and motion, rules of composition and different lighting conditions, among others.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_bd935d88f2da60a8f5d6e802934947f9871bf2f763dadc876254a8fb779951a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260221020232_bd935d88f2da60a8f5d6e802934947f9871bf2f763dadc876254a8fb779951a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>I took this photo of my grandmother and my sister because I love my grandmother. Her age is also over 100 years and I wanted to take her picture. Birendra, 13 </figcaption> </figure>  It looks like some of the talented students are set to become content creators when they grow up, and UNICEF is now looking to replicate this in Madhes Province. The photographs taken by the children illustrate their everyday lives and concerns, which seems far away from the manifestos and stale electoral promises of candidates.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lzZkY9CvM4g?si=2QMEaRp9XTadRuu9" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

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