Nepal’s new political wave has been described in many ways: a generational shift, a technocratic shift, a shift in ideas, and a shift in political behaviour. Young leaders now sit in Parliament, many with international education and policy experience.
But amid this excitement, a quieter truth risks getting lost: this political transformation is also the ascent of people who, until recently, were the grassroots themselves.
For the first time, many of the people now sitting in government are not distant elites. They are people I have marched with, argued with, worked with, and been inspired by for more than a decade.
They are people who once stood ankle‑deep in floodwaters, not in front of press conferences. As optimism rises around the new government, we must not forget that the climate crisis has not slowed down. 
The monsoon is at our doorstep again. And if the disasters from previous years taught us anything, it is that climate impacts do not wait for political transitions. And our mountains and rivers do not care who sits in Singha Darbar.
What is different this time is who holds power.
During the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair" target="_blank">September 2024 floods in Kathmandu</a>, the first responders were not the state or development machinery. It was ordinary young people. A loosely formed WhatsApp network coordinated everything from dispatching mountain bikers to landslide‑stranded areas, to pooling relief supplies, to delivering materials to army bases for airlifting. These were citizens acting out of necessity, not mandate.
Many from that very network are now part of the government. As I have argued before in Nepali Times, top‑down climate responses in Nepal have always been too little, too late, and too disconnected from lived experience. The only proven path is bottom‑up, community-led adaptation where those who face the risks daily shape the solutions. 
International research backs this: community-based adaptation has been central to success stories from Bangladesh’s cyclone shelters to Vietnam’s mangrove restoration to the Philippines’ barangay disaster committees. The world has repeatedly learned that resilience grows from the ground up, not the top down.
RARE MOMENT
Nepal now has a rare political moment where people with lived experience of crisis sit in positions of authority. The real test is whether this lived experience becomes policy and immediate action.
The expectation should not be that these new leaders deliver because of their degrees. It should be because they remember where they come from and use their privilege to strengthen and fund local institutions, networks and people who kept this country functioning long before governments did.
The monsoon that starts in June will test the government’s commitment to governing from the bottom up. Will these new leaders govern the way they once volunteered — listening first, acting fast, improvising where needed, and involving those closest to the danger? Or will the weight of the state push them back toward the familiar comfort of top‑down plans and consultant reports?
The challenges are complex. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu" target="_blank">Climate change is driving displacement</a>, deepening poverty, and exacerbating gendered vulnerabilities. Climate adaptation, therefore, needs cross-sectoral solutions that understand how these issues intersect.
Long-term transformation is essential. Our major cities like Kathmandu desperately need a future where rivers are protected instead of mined, where an urban forest cools our heat‑trapping city, and where mobility focuses on sustainability, not just shiny EVs. Our mountain villages and terai lowlands deserve a community resilient to climate impacts, with livelihoods protected.
These require years of work. But immediate, life-saving measures cannot wait.
Will the government finally rein in the sand mining and quarrying upstream of the Rosi and Nakkhu Khola? Will someone sit down with the communities on the riverbanks and listen to the early warning signs they’ve learned through pain? Will climate adaptation be prioritised amidst political noise and competing crises?
Or will we find ourselves, yet again, mourning damage that could have been prevented? I have been inspired by many of the individuals now in government — they questioned old hierarchies, challenged worn‑out norms, and believed that things could be done differently. 
But while the faces in Parliament have changed, the bureaucracy has not. Development organisations and civil society groups have not. And those systems are slow: too slow for the speed at which our climate is changing.
So something has to give. And that shift must begin with remembering where this political movement came from: the grassroots. Those now in power must not forget the urgency they once carried in their bones. They cannot forget the feeling of wading into murky floodwater, holding a bag of rice over their heads. 
And it is our responsibility — mine <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/turning-green-policies-into-greenbacks" target="_blank">as a writer</a>, yours as a reader, and ours as citizens — to remind them. The real spark for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/measuring-climate-impact-on-culture-and-heritage" target="_blank">climate action</a> comes from personal stories of loss, fear, survival, and solidarity. And suddenly, those stories are no longer outside the halls of government. They are inside.
The question is no longer whether our leaders understand the stakes. They do. They lived it. The real question, as the skies grow heavier again, is this: What will we do with this moment?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu">Rastra Raj Bhandari</a> is a co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya. He contributes regularly to Nepali Times on climate change.

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Soon, the monsoon

The pale green ice on the top of the lake gleams in the pale January sunlight. The dark waters beneath are visible through the translucent frozen surface. This is Thulagi Glacial Lake at the foot of Mt Manaslu in central Nepal, classified as one of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up">most dangerous lakes </a>to appear in the Himalaya due to climate heating.&nbsp; The place is breathtaking not just because of its 4,050m altitude, but the scenery all around. The beauty belies the threat this expanding lake poses downstream along the Marsyangdi Valley. &nbsp; The lake lies at the terminus of the 4.5km long Thulagi Glacier. The local Gurung inhabitants call it Dona Tal. They say it started appearing in the 1960s. Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung, 47, has been ferrying trekkers to the spot for about 20 years.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>MELTING MOUNTAINS: Thulagi Glacial Lake in Manang has been identified among 47 lakes in Nepal at risk of an outburst flood because of climate breakdown. All photos: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Yaks graze below Thulagi Himal (7,059m) and Mt Manaslu (8,163m) along the Dona Khola that drains the lake.</figcaption> </figure>  “Dona used to be small, but it has now grown bigger,” he says, gesturing to how the glacier has receded and shrunk. Trekkers used to be able to go to the other side, but now the glacier is riddled with ponds and boulders falling off the moraine that make it dangerous.&nbsp; Gurung adds rather matter-of-factly: “The lake will burst sooner or later.”&nbsp; Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) has been studying Thulagi for the past two decades. Topographic maps from the 1960s and early satellite images show the lake being much smaller.&nbsp; When the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-resource-curse">Marsyangdi Hydropower Project</a> project was being built in 1994, the German Institute of Geology and Natural Resources with the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology measured the lake to be already 2km in length. More recent surveys show the lake has increased its size since then to more than 1 sq km. &nbsp; The lake is among 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya">dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal and Tibet </a>&nbsp;identified by ICIMOD in 2020 due to its size, the risk of landslides and avalanches, and the gradual collapse of the lake’s ice-core moraine dam.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung has been taking trekkers up to Thulagi Lake for 20 years.</figcaption> </figure>  In 2018 a team of glaciologists led by Umesh K Haritasya <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2072-4292/10/5/798">published a journal article</a> about the evolution of three glacial lakes including Thulagi, Lower Barun, and Imja. Even back in 1976, Thulagi was twice the size of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Diverting-danger,3172">Imja glacial lake</a> in the Khumbu and six times the size of the Lower Barun. The team measured the lake’s depth at 79m, and calculated that it held 36.1 million m3 of water. Since then, Thulagi has been growing at a slower rate than the other two lakes because it is shielded by shadows of mountains. There is also not as much glacial calving in the narrow valley.&nbsp; Nonetheless, scientists and experts have long warned that a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from Thulagi poses a big risk to four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and settlements like Besisahar and Dumre (map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504" data-rendition-name="original" width="2076" height="1444" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi map"> </figure>  The lake feeds into Dona Khola, a tributary of the Marsyangdi where the 49.9MW Dona Khola hydropower project is being built at a cost of Rs10 billion. Another 42MW Super Dona Khola project is planned on the river. “One of the trigger points that could lead to a glacial lake outburst could be the steep lateral moraine, which might be weakened by rapidly melting permafrost,” says Scott Watson, a University of Leeds researcher who was part of the team that conducted the 2018 study. Locals are already witnessing what Watson describes. They say that it was easy to reach Thulagi’s headwaters even until a few years ago, but that is now dangerous because of ice and rockfalls.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1426" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>The 50MW Upper Marsyangdi Hydropower Project station in Lamjung. A Thulagi Lake outburst would damage four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and its tributaries.</figcaption> </figure>  GLOF WARNING&nbsp; Glaciologist Rijan Bhakta Kayastha has been studying Thulagi since 1994, and was part of a team that discovered that the lake’s terminal moraine was made up of rocky soil on top and ice at its core.&nbsp; In 2020, Kayastha's team published a study that modelled the route of a possible GLOF. They found that if the lake burst, it would take 2.5 hours to reach Dharapani, and 4 hours to reach Bahundanda 39km downstream. The surge would be 13.7m high at Dharapani and 15m by the time it reached Taal, the village most at risk because it is situated only a few metres above the Marsyangdi. ‘Considering the size of the Thulagi glacial lake and its dam, it seems unlikely that a rock fall or avalanche would cause the lake to breach the moraine dam,” concluded the study. “But an earthquake or climate change would require a separate study. At present, there is no immediate or imminent threat of this glacier bursting.” MEMORIES OF 2021 Across Manang valley, residents are haunted by the memories of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come">2021 flood on the Marsyangdi</a> that swept away parts of Chame, Dharapani, Naso, and Taal villages.&nbsp; Kamarkali Gurung, grew up on the banks of the Marsyangdi in Dharapani, and had never imagined that the tranquil river she knew could become such a monster. She had saved up to build her own three-story property with 17 rooms.&nbsp; Her family was away that June evening when the flood swept away her hotel. “Not even a spoon remained, everything was gone,” says Kamarkali. “Losing the hotel hurt like losing a loved one. The Marsyangdi flows through my house now, I can never go back.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>SURVIVORS: Kamarkali Gurung's hotel was swept away by the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi. She now operates her hotel from a rented house in Dharapani.</figcaption> </figure>  Surendra Gurung, also a hotelier, was in Dharapani the night of the flood, and can still remember the fear as the river roared towards the village. “I did not know if I would live or die,” he says.&nbsp; Sirantal village was merely 10m above the Marsyangdi, and was completely destroyed by the flood. Thirty-two people were rescued by army helicopters, and most of the families have now relocated to Taal.&nbsp; One of them is Singha Bahadur Gurung who also ran a lodge for 20 years. “We did not have to buy anything except rice, the soil in Sirantal was so fertile,” he remembers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Singha Bahadur Gurung operated a lodge in Sirantal before the flood swept it away in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  Marsyangdi now flows through where Singha Gurung’s village used to be. “Ever since the flood, I am terrified every time it rains from June to August,” he says.&nbsp; The 2021 flood was during the monsoon, and was caused by unusually heavy rainfall in the catchment. A GLOF on the Marsyangdi would be much more destructive. Roshni Ghale, 46, runs a hotel in Taal, and escaped with her family to a nearby cave as the flood engulfed nearby homes.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Roshni Ghale spent six months after the 2021 flood rebuilding her hotel in Taal. Tourism has steadily picked up in the four years since the flood. </figcaption> </figure>  “We spent the next six months after the flood rebuilding our lives, going to bed hungry many a night,” she recalls. In the four years since, tourism has picked up again, but the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-unseen-wounds-of-climate-disasters"> community is still traumatised</a>. In the wake of the floods, the government had begun talks to rehabilitate and repatriate the community, but until now, they have been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/from-one-disaster-to-the-next">empty promises</a>. In any case, the people here, most of them experienced hoteliers whose livelihood depends on tourism, are unwilling to uproot their lives and start over elsewhere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Most of the survivors of the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi from villages like Sirantal have relocated to the upstream village of Taal, which itself was hit by a monsoon flood in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  DISASTER PREPAREDNESS Even though studies have assessed the risk of GLOFs in Manang and across Nepal, and warned about the damage that such floods could cause, it took until 2021 for early warning systems to be installed on the banks of the Marsyangdi and in the town of Taal.&nbsp; But beyond that, there has been little preparedness. Early warning systems and disaster preparedness are necessary not just along the Marsyangdi but also at and around Thulagi itself, say experts. Locals here are becoming increasingly aware of the risk posed by the expanding lake up the valley, but are reluctant to leave homes and communities that they have lived in for generations. The hydropower projects on the Dona Khola promises jobs, and the local government is upgrading the hiking trail to Thulagi Lake which has become a tourist attraction. “Manang now gets <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/too-little-snow-too-much-rain">too little snow and too much rain</a>, and the Marsyangdi charts its own course,” says Min Rashi Gurung, chair of Ward-1 of Naso rural municipality, where Thulagi is located. &nbsp; But help may be on the way.Last year, the Green Climate Fund (GCF) approved a $36.1 million grant to help Nepal reduce risk of GLOFs in Thulagi and four other glacial lakes. The project is managed by the government and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The project is set to begin next fiscal year, and will reduce the water level in the four glacial lakes including Thulagi, similar to what was done in Imja and Tso Rolpa, says Dinkar Kayastha at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. &nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism - Nepal

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

Belém’s lowland Amazon landscape stands in stark contrast to &nbsp;Himalayan peaks, yet the decisions adopted at COP30 will influence the future of mountain regions across the world.
For the first time, mountains were anchored across several outcomes of the UN climate negotiations, including a dedicated dialogue to be held during the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) mid-year session in June 2026.
COP30 also made a small step forward in advancing the urgent call to limit global temperature rise and scale up climate finance, both of which are critical for vulnerable mountainous countries.
For mountain countries like Nepal, these milestones are not symbolic gains, they are overdue acknowledgement of the profound and accelerating risks unfolding in the high mountains. They offer a rare opening for mountain nations to elevate their priorities, strengthen coalitions and ensure that global climate action translates into real protection for the people and ecosystems of the world’s highest and most fragile landscapes.
In a decisive step, COP30 requested the Chairs of the Subsidiary Bodies, the technical and scientific arm, to convene a formal UNFCCC dialogue on mountains and climate change during its mid-year session in June 2026. This matters for three reasons.
First, from the continuous rise in global temperature, and from rapidly retreating glaciers to unstable slopes to drying springs, mountain systems are undergoing ‘irreversible change’ at faster rates than many other regions.
Second, hundreds of millions of people in downstream countries depend on mountain water, biodiversity and resources. The collapse of mountain systems is not just a local concern, it is a global risk.
Third, mountain nations have historically had limited negotiating leverage. While many other geographic groupings have established strong collective platforms, mountain agendas have remained scattered. The dialogue, supported by a summary report to be presented at COP31, offers a new diplomatic anchor point.
For Nepal, as well as the broader mountain ranges such as the Himalaya, the Andes, the Alps, the Atlas and the Ural Mountains, this opening helps not only to highlight vulnerabilities, but also to shape global climate policy in ways that reflect mountain realities.
Beyond the standalone dialogue, mountains were referenced across COP30 decisions in ways that give mountain nations more substantive hooks in the global process.
The Global Mutirão decision, the political heart of COP30, explicitly reaffirms the ‘vital importance of protecting mountainous ecosystems’, among others, as part of an integrated response to climate change, biodiversity loss and land degradation. This holistic framing aligns with Nepal’s longstanding call for recognising the interconnected crises affecting mountain landscapes.
Meanwhile, the Belém Adaptation Indicators under the Global Goal on Adaptation include mountains as a specific category for disaggregation. This is an important technical win: it allows countries like Nepal to measure and report adaptation progress in ways that reflect the unique vulnerabilities of mountain ecosystems and communities.&nbsp;
Indicators related to climate-resilient ecosystems, ecosystem-based adaptation, and biodiversity resilience all reference mountainous areas, opening pathways for targeted adaptation planning and finance.
Not only COP30 but the process leading up to it has made consistent progress on mountain issues. The IPCC, in its Seventh Assessment Cycle, will include a dedicated cross-chapter paper on mountains. Likewise, the UNFCCC’s Standing Committee on Finance has selected ‘mountain ecosystems and melting glaciers’ as a sub-theme for its forum next year.
Both developments pave the way for advancing climate science and climate finance specifically in the context of mountains. These decisions, taken together, offer a foundation to build a more structured and sustained recognition of mountain issues in the climate regime.
CLIMATE SCIENCE
The urgency behind the COP30 decisions reflects what climate science has been warning for years. The Hindu Kush Himalaya is warming significantly faster than the global average. Even at 1.5°C of global warming, the region could lose up to one-third of its glacier volume by the end of this century.
Extreme rainfall events that were once rare are now more frequent and intense. Landslides are becoming larger, deadlier and more unpredictable. Springs that sustained communities for generations are drying up. Ecosystems are rapidly shifting upslope, leaving species with shrinking habitat and escalating extinction risks.
These impacts are already manifesting on the ground. Recent floods, landslides and glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) across Bhutan, India, Nepal and Pakistan all reflect a broader pattern of climate-driven extremes. As the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) warns, the intensity and frequency of such events will continue to increase with every fraction of warming.
This is why referring to the Paris temperature goal of 1.5°C as ‘unattainable’ is not just scientifically careless, it strikes at the very survival of mountain communities. Yet current global commitments fall far short of what is needed. Based on 86 NDCs submitted by 113 Parties, global greenhouse gas emissions in 2035 are projected to be only 12% below 2019 levels, far from the 43% reduction the IPCC says is required to keep 1.5°C within reach.
For mountain countries, the message could not be clearer: there is no margin for delayed action.
PATH AHEAD
COP30 has created both political and technical space for mountain issues–thanks to the joint efforts of mountainous nations like Nepal, Bhutan and Kyrgyzstan (as Chair of the Mountain Group), along with support from countries in Latin America and Africa.
But turning this progress into real protection for mountain regions will require collective effort and sustained leadership. It is not only about securing the word ‘mountain’ in decisions — the real task ahead lies in advancing urgent action to limit global temperature rise and in mobilising climate finance that reflects the realities and complexities of mountainous geographies.
The upcoming mountain dialogue in June must underline the fact that protecting mountains requires stabilising global temperatures well below 1.5°C.
The case for mountain-specific finance for adaptation and addressing loss and damage remains key. Mountain regions face challenges that do not align with conventional adaptation models: high-risk terrain, dispersed settlements, difficult access, fragile ecosystems and complex hydrology.
Adaptation here is more costly, technically demanding and long-term, yet climate finance mechanisms rarely reflect this reality. The GGA indicators must help to push for simplified access and scaled-up support for ecosystem-based and nature-based adaptation, recognising the complexity of mountainous geography when justifying climate rationale.
For mountain countries, many climate-induced impacts cannot be avoided by adaptation alone. The accelerating pace of glacier loss, slope failures, biodiversity collapse and cultural heritage impacts demands a robust loss and damage system. The Fund for responding to Loss and Damage (FRLD) must also recognise differentiated realities and address mountain-specific risks, GLOFs, highland droughts, erosion-driven displacement and glacial retreat.
Diplomatic progress alone will not safeguard the mountains. Action must reach the places where impacts are unfolding, unstable slopes, remote settlements, shrinking pastures and drying springs. This requires scaling up early warning systems tailored to mountain hazards, and expanding watershed and spring-shed restoration to secure vital water sources. It also means investing in resilient mountain infrastructure and protecting biodiversity corridors linking fragile highland ecosystems.
Empowering local communities through climate-resilient livelihoods is equally critical, alongside strengthening scientific monitoring of the cryosphere and mountain ecosystems to understand fast-changing risks. Finally, enhanced cross-border collaboration on data, forecasting and water governance is essential, given the Himalaya is a shared mountain system whose stability depends on collective action.
COP30 has opened an important chapter for mountain issues in global climate diplomacy, but it is only the beginning. The 2026 mountain dialogue, the implementation of the Belém Adaptation Indicators, the IPCC cross chapter paper on mountains, to the Standing Committee on Finance to discuss mountains, and above all a renewed global commitment to decisive emission reductions will determine whether mountain communities are protected in ways that reflect their realities.
For Nepal, a country whose identity, ecology and economy are inseparable from its mountains, this moment is both an opportunity and a responsibility. The stakes are nothing less than the future stability of the Himalaya and the well-being of millions who depend on it. The world can no longer afford to look away from the mountains. And mountain nations cannot afford to wait.
Manjeet Dhakal is the Head of LDC Support Team at Climate Analytics and Director for Climate Analytics South Asia. He is a member of Nepal delegation and Adviser to the Chair of Least Developed Countries on climate change. &nbsp;

Mountains at the tipping point

The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

Too little snow, too much rain

Nepali Times spoke to Director General Kamal Ram Joshi of Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM) about weather extremes and changing rainfall patterns. Excerpts: &nbsp;
Nepali Times: Is the risk of glacial lakes bursting as serious as it is made out to be?&nbsp;
Kamal Ram Joshi: Analysing meteorological data of the past 30 years we see that average temperatures in Nepal are rising at o.o56 Celsius per year. That may not seem like a lot, but it adds up over the decades. More worryingly, the rise in average temperature is much higher: 0.086 Celsius a year. The Himalaya is therefore more at risk from global warming. 
 
This means 24% of our glaciers retreated between 1977 to 2010, and in many of them glacial lakes are expanding. Of total 47 glacial lakes categorised as potentially dangerous for Nepal, 21 are in Nepal, 25 in China and one in India. Since many of our rivers start in China, the impact of glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) is transboundary.&nbsp;
In the past 60 years 27 major GLOFs have been recorded in Nepal. Of them, 15 were from lakes in Nepal and 12 originated from Tibet. Lately, we have seen that even smaller unnoticed supra-glacial lakes have turned out to be a serious threat downstream – for example, recent floods in Thame of Khumbu, Namkha of Humla and Bhote Kosi in Rasuwa. 
 
So, what can be done to reduce the risk from GLOFs?&nbsp;
In 2000, with the support of The Netherlands the DHM lowered the level of Tso Rolpa glacial lake by 3.4m. Sixteen years later, we lowered the water level of Imja glacial lake in the Everest region. We have installed automated early warning systems in downstream areas based on precipitation data.&nbsp;
Based on the experience with Imja and Tso Rolpa, we proposed to the Green Climate Fund to reduce the risk of four other dangerous glacial lakes: Thulagi, Hongu 2, Lower Barun and Lumding Tso. It will cost of $50.44, GCF has approved $36.1 million with the UNDP and Nepal government co-financing it. 
 
How easy was it to secure GCF funds?
The Imja lake lowering was with support from the Green Environment Fund, and this experience allowed us to get the GCF on board to lower the water level of four more glacial lakes. We have also prepared a national adaptation plan based on which we can approach other donors and the international community.&nbsp;
 
Does Nepal graduating from a least developed country affect access to more funds for climate adaptation? 
 
Despite being a climate vulnerable country, Nepal has made good progress especially in the mitigating glacial lake outburst floods. India, Bhutan and China have not lowered their glacial lakes yet. Nepal has a lot of experience that it can share, for example 20 years ago we started an SMS early warning service to save lives from floods. Others can also follow our model. Lowering glacial lakes in Nepal means less risk for downstream countries.&nbsp;
Irrespective of financial and human resources that we have and our topography Nepal has done quite an impressive job in the field of disaster management. We have much more to do making our infrastructure more climate resilient. But we have done our best to disseminate information to save lives.&nbsp;
For example, in August a glacial flood started in China at 3am. If we had been warned, the nine lives we lost on the Bhote Kosi could have been saved. The flood arrived at Rasuwagadi at 6am, and we immediately warned settlements downstream saving lives. So, data sharing is important especially to prevent transboundary disasters. If China doesn’t share data with us, we will not know there is a flood coming.
Neither our northern nor southern neighbours are generous about sharing meteorological data. In Nepal, we share real time data on our official website. It is in the public domain and more people outside Nepal access them than Nepalis. Why? For any flood that originated in Nepal it takes three days to reach India, three more days to reach Bangladesh. We are sharing data on humanitarian grounds, but it is not reciprocal.
 
How do you plan to lower the remaining four glacial lakes?&nbsp;
We have started an implementation plan defining roles and responsibilities of implementing agencies, finalising project designs, total cost and structures. Based on that, selected firms will lower glacial lake levels and we will install early warning awareness and hydrometric stations. The core objective of this approach is to ensure an end-to-end early warning system and last mile communication. Next, we also protect watersheds after lowering water levels.&nbsp;
 
What is in Nepal’s national adaptation plan?&nbsp;
Access to global climate finance is evidence-based. No donor will give money without data justifying your claim. Our experience with Tso Rolpa and Imja is proof to potential donors that we have experience and evidence to back it up. At Cop27, we had pledged to ensure early warning for all by 2027, we have now extended that to 2030.&nbsp;
&nbsp;For that, we will expand our forecasting and early warning so that the death and destruction following the tornado in Bara and cloud burst in Manang in 2022 could be prevented. Manang saw 300mm of rain in Manang in June when the average rainfall for that month is 42. The Melamchi flood in 2021 is taken as a disaster of multi-hazard cascade effects.&nbsp;
Last year, an unprecedented 624mm was recorded in Kanchanpur. Because of timely information and rescue, there was zero casualty. But this year 97 people died in flood whereas 34 died in Kathmandu valley despite timely information. That was because of the public ignoring the warnings. It is worth noting that more than 1300 people had died when a similar rainfall volume was recorded in 1993.&nbsp;
Timely information about extreme weather caused by climate breakdown can save lives.&nbsp;

“Neighbours not keen on sharing met data”

· &nbsp;At least 400 people are dead or missing after heavy rainfall lashed arid regions of northwestern Pakistan. Walls of mud and boulders engulfed entire villages in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province. More than 700 people have been killed in floods in Pakistan since June.&nbsp; · &nbsp;Over in India’s Jammu and Kashmir at the same time, multiple slurry floods on 17-18 August killed more than 80 people · A mudslide possibly caused by a glacial collapse upstream in Uttarakhand on 5 August nearly wiped the village of Dharali off the map. At least 70 people, 23 of them Nepalis are dead or missing. · On the night of 8 July, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">glacial lakes in Tibet overflowed</a>. By dawn the mudflow had demolished the Nepal-China border bridge killing at least 11 people, destroyed hydropower plants, swept away bridges, roads, over 100 cargo trucks and newly imported electric vehicles. All these disasters have a common thread: a cascade of hazards caused by record-breaking rainfall on fragile Himalayan slopes destabilised by melting glaciers and permafrost, seismicity and poorly engineered infrastructure. They are called ‘rain bombs’ — a heavy localised downpour measuring more than 100mm/h on a steep mountainside. As global warming heats the atmosphere, warmer air can hold more water vapour. The heavy rain then falls where there should be snowfall: on moraines and slopes that have lost the permafrost adhesive that held the debris together. “Increasingly, there is now more rainfall at higher altitudes where there used to be snowfall previously, and this directly impacts loose material in that fragile landscape which moves down,” explains Mohan B Chand, a Himalayan Glaciologist at Kathmandu University. “Moreover, the rains these days are heavy and fall within a few hours. So even a small burst has bigger impact.” The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">2021 Melamchi flood</a> and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Sikkim disaster in 2023</a> have been attributed to record-breaking torrential rain on a glacial moraine that collapsed, unleashing a catastrophic debris flow.&nbsp; The Bhote Kosi flood this year happened even without torrential rain, and originated at rapidly expanding supraglacial lakes that overflowed, similar to what happened on the Mendenhall Galcier in Alaska last week. In Uttarakhand, the trigger could be in the upper catchment cryosphere, or a landslide dammed lake. Basanta Raj Adhikari of the Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering also calls them ‘sediment bombs’. He clarifies: “There is lots of sediment up there from landslides or glacial activity, and when there is heavy rainfall and hotter temperature, they are unleashed downstream. One thing is for sure, these extreme events are getting more frequent and more destructive.” Researcher Alton C Byers who has studied melting glaciers in the Himalaya and Andes names the eight most potentially dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal: Lower Barun, Chamlang North Tso, Chamlang South Tso, Dig Tso which burst in 1984, Lumding Tso, Thulagi, Tso Rolpa and Imja Tso (see map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="522" height="557" loading="lazy" alt="high risk glacial lakes in Nepal"> </figure>  Of these, Tso Rolpa and Imja have been lowered by 3m each, while Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes have been targeted for lowering by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology as part of the recent Green Climate Fund grant of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">$36.1 million awarded to Nepal</a>. “These lakes have changed over the years as their debris-covered glaciers continue to recede,” Byers told Nepali Times. “When water volume in the lake basin increases, they become more vulnerable to flood triggers such as overhanging ice as glaciers recede further to their headwalls, and permafrost on their moraines continues to melt.” <h2>These are not ‘natural disasters’</h2> Scientists have given the current planetary epoch a name: the Anthropocene. And anthropogenic causes in this era heighten the risk of disasters. Indeed, an analysis of recent Himalayan calamities (page 1) shows that there is much more at play here than climate breakdown. Haphazard encroachment of floodplains, quarrying and crusher activity exacerbated the effect of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">extreme rainfall on 28 September around Kathmandu Valley</a> that killed 200 people. The human cost of the 5 August catastrophe in Uttarakhand would have been high in any case, but the fact that the tiny village had expanded across a vulnerable alluvial fan to cater to a tourism boom meant more death and destruction. There are similar alluvial fans across Nepal, where small towns have expanded because new highways follow rivers, like Beni located at the confluence of the Myagdi Khola and Kali Gandaki. Other towns like Kagbeni or Damauli are located on the banks of rivers and tributaries that are directly downstream from rapidly expanding glacial lakes or unstable mountains. “In Butwal, people are building houses on the floodplain of the Tinau River, and yet people blame climate change or rainfall when there is a disaster,” says Basanta Raj Adhikari at the Institute of Engineering. “This is happening all over the country. Imagine the kind of devastation Beni would suffer if there was a big flood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Beni Bazar"> <figcaption>RISKY CONFLUENCE: Beni has expanded rapidly after the highway to Mustang was built. But the town is situated on the alluvial fan of past flash floods on both the Kali Gandaki and Myagdi Khola which have dangerous glacial lakes in their upper catchment. Photo: BENI TOURISM</figcaption> </figure>  Traditionally, Nepal’s villages and settlements were located high above rivers because our forebears learnt lessons from recurring flash floods. Now, the road network follows rivers, and towns have sprung up along these highways. Even when roads are not on river banks, many gouge out slopes above, unleashing massive landslides that block rivers. Experts say Nepal’s hazard map should now be updated for glacial outbursts so municipalities can plan risk-sensitive land use zoning. This &nbsp;must go hand-in-hand with measures to reduce the risk by structural mitigation, such as engineering and construction, and then with risk awareness and early-warning systems. Says Himalayan researcher Alton C Byers: “Sooner or later, communities will realise that certain sites are simply no longer safe for a village or city, especially because of climate change in the mountains. The Himalaya has always been high-risk with its steep slopes, thin soil, monsoon rainfall regime, and frequent seismic activity. So, some places are no longer safe to live in.” Mohan B Chand of Kathmandu University adds that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">hazard mapping is especially crucial for expensive hydropower plants</a>: “Most of these are on snow-fed rivers, but environmental risk assessment is not taken seriously.” He says that because Nepal is set to generate 28,500MW by 2035 to meet its carbon neutral target, the government must work to minimise upstream risk by integrating disaster mitigation components in new energy investments. Few know that Nepal’s first hazard mapping was done 40 years ago in the Khumbu with a United Nations University study titled ‘Highland Lowland Interactive Systems’. It is hard to find that document anywhere. Today, hazard mapping technologies, satellite remote sensing, drones, synthetic aperture radar (SAR) and modelling with AI have made it much easier to integrate multi-hazard risk assessment. That data needs to be made available to local governments so they can plan. Cell phones and new apps that monitor real-time glacial lake levels, live precipitation and hydrological data, and local weather forecasts can make early warning systems more effective. Recent disasters have shown that even the smallest of glacial lakes that are rarely considered in risk assessments can cause much damage. Langmale Lake in the Barun Valley was less than 0.1 km2 in size, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting" target="_blank">the flood in 2017</a> caused extensive downstream damage. The 2012 Seti flood in Pokhara, the Chamoli disaster in Uttarakhand in 2021, the South Lhonak proglacial lake burst in Sikkim in 2023 that washed away the $1.7 billion Chungthang Teesta III Project, and the August 2024 floods above Thame in Khumbu are other recent examples.&nbsp; Byers thinks some of these floods may have been initially triggered by massive rockfall or moraine collapse related to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost" target="_blank">melting permafrost</a>. The size of a glacial lake alone does not determine the severity of destruction. What makes all the difference is downstream development, and if there pre-warning. Dig Tso in Khumbu which burst in 1984, was much larger than the lake that caused the Bhote Kosi flood in July, but the economic cost to the country of the trans-boundary disaster this year was much higher. Says glaciologist Chand: “We have to monitor the lakes, not just via remote sensing but with field visits. These may be costly, but mitigating the risk is less expensive than the disasters themselves.” Nepal has the technology and trained personnel to do hazard mapping, monitoring, and to design early warning apps. That data and information now needs to be available to all three levels of government to improve preparedness and risk reduction. “The cascading and compounding hazards are increasing in the Himalaya, this must be the subject of our research now,” says Adhikari at the Centre for Disaster Studies. “Recent events are a wake-up call, if we do not take this seriously things may be more dangerous in future.”

Sonia Awale

Rain bombs

Phewa Lake in Pokhara used to be much bigger, but it has been shrinking because of the sediment brought down from the surrounding mountains as well as human encroachment. The slopes above the lake used to be heavily denuded, and there was severe soil erosion because Pokhara Valley gets one of the highest annual rainfall in Nepal. To trap the silt, small dams were constructed across streams that flowed into the lake, but the Community Forestry Program restored the catchment’s lush vegetation reducing sedimentation. However, there is now a new danger: extreme weather caused by climate breakdown. And it was here exactly 10 years ago on 28 July 2015 that torrential rain over two days killed over 30 people in Kaski district. Thirteen of them were swept away in a flashflood on the Harpan Khola. But a month later, there was such heavy rain that even the thickly forested mountain above could not prevent a landslide that killed more people. Teacher at the local school, Arjun BK, lost several of his students in that disaster. The tragedy was so traumatic that it left a deep emotional wound that he carries to this day, a decade later. Returning to the classroom to see the empty desks became too unbearable. “That’s why I quit my job as a teacher”, BK told us as he showed us around the village which still bears scars of that landslide and flood ten years ago. Teaching, once a source of joy, became a source of anxiety, grief and frustration. BK showed signs of post-traumatic stress: he would find himself angry, would be cross with his students. Aware of his declining mental health, BK made the difficult decision to leave his job. BK’s struggle also exposed an aspect of climate breakdown that has not got as much attention: how climate change induced disasters are affecting the mental health of survivors. He then founded Koshish Kaski, an organisation working on mental health awareness and care. Koshish Kaski is a satellite organisation of Koshish Nepal, which is the country’s first mental health organization. BK’s symptoms aligned with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD): negative thoughts, irritability, difficulty in emotion regulation and avoidance of places that reminded him of the trauma.&nbsp; “I realised these symptoms were not only affecting my mental well-being, but also compromised my ability to teach effectively, so I quit on time,” says BK, while admitting that not everyone has the wisdom to recognise the wounds, nor the privilege to quit their jobs.&nbsp; Many continue teaching while silently struggling, and this can profoundly impact the student’s growth in the process. Arjun BK’s neice Devi Sunar survived the disaster ten years ago, and recalls how her farming community along the Haadi Khola struggled with trauma, fear and sleepless nights. Sunar herself has noticed that the once-predictable weather pattern in the mountains has changed, the monsoons are erratic, springs have dried up, and it is hotter than before. This has led to a decline in harvests – adding to crop loss due to raids by monkeys and wild boar. All this have placed psychological and economic strain on farmers like Devi Sunar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250728110724_c61b3f30d270385f2def34c7a41ef1e7b049b520038a45c90b77c209c4f75265.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250728110724_c61b3f30d270385f2def34c7a41ef1e7b049b520038a45c90b77c209c4f75265" data-rendition-name="original" width="1420" height="716" loading="lazy" alt="climate disasters in Nepal"> <figcaption>The site of the flashflood 10 yeas later. Photo: KAREN SUDMEIRE</figcaption> </figure>  Studies have found that women are more susceptible to anxiety and depression, and this is corroborated by Arjun BK’s own findings at Koshish Kaski. Climate-related disasters and crop loss add to gender discrimination at home and work. The stress, he found, can disrupt hormonal balance leading to irregular menstrual cycles and poor general health.&nbsp; Along with women, ethnic and ‘lower’ caste groups are more affected by climate-related disasters. Indeed, most of the lives lost in the 2015 disaster were from marginalised groups. In Nepal, these communities are more vulnerable because they live in riskier terrain, have limited access to resources, and heavy dependence on the natural environment for subsistence agriculture. To the north of Pokhara in the Trans-Himalayan Mustang district, farmers say winter rain and snow have failed for the past three years. This is critical since the region’s apple orchards need snow to moisten the soil in spring, as well as control pests.&nbsp; In Kagbeni at the confluence of the Kali Gandaki and Jhong Khola, there are still signs of the devastating debris flow that came down in August 2023, washing away 35 homes, a monastery, livestock and infrastructure.&nbsp; “Luckily, no human lives were lost because there was warning from upstream communities,” recalls Kagbeni Mayor Phenchok Tseptan.&nbsp; Although that flood was likely caused by a landslide lake outbrust upstream, local people suffer anxiety and spend sleepless nights even if there is a light drizzle as it brings back memories of that terrifying day.&nbsp; Because of the lack of awareness and societal taboo about mental health, few in Nepal link climate-related disasters like the ones in Kaski and Mustang to post-traumatic stress or generalised anxiety disorder. And as the Harpan Khola tragedy shows, the impact can be felt even a decade or more later. Arjun BK is a rare survivor of a disaster who not only spoke up about his condition, but also chose to do something about it and help others suffering silently. In recent years, mental health awareness has reached many communities across Nepal and the government has announced plans to establish outpatient mental health units in hospitals.&nbsp; Teachers in schools are also being trained to recognise and care for those who struggle silently with mental health issues – especially after climate-induced disasters. Better early-warning systems to reduce the impact would be a way to prevent trauma, anxiety and stress in the first place.&nbsp; Anek Rajbhandari is a graduate of New York University in Abu Dhabi and has a background in Psychology. The article is a part of author's involvement in Lumbini to LoManthang project by Duke University (Planetlab), IHRR, HUC, FEED and Karmaflight.

The unseen wounds of climate disasters

Climate mitigation targets are being rolled back worldwide, and time is running out for saving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">the Himalayan icecap</a>.&nbsp;
That was the unsaid message of the three-day Sagarmatha Sambaad international climate conference hosted by the Nepal government in Kathmandu this week.
The gathering ended with a 25-point Call For Action, but drew criticism for being yet another talk shop, regurgitating jargon and deflecting blame for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-doubles-its-carbon-footprint">lack of seriousness in reducing emissions</a>, adapting to weather extremes in the region, and failure in cross border cooperation.
“The event put Nepal and Everest on the global climate map and had geopolitical benefits for Nepal,” says climate policy analyst Arjun Dhakal. “But it was a missed opportunity for Nepal to strongly push<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-weather-stations-in-the-himalaya"> climate-smart infrastructure</a>, transboundary <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/yes-quakes-can-be-forecast?%2F">early warning systems</a> and highland research.”
Nepal unveiled its Nationally Determined Contributions (NDC) 3.0 with mitigation targets for 2030 and 2035, and its first Biennial Transparency Report with emissions data from 1994 to 2022 and projections up to 2050.
Although Nepal has met previous targets for forest cover (46% of area) and made progress in promoting <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">electric transport</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fossil-fools">fossil fuel </a>use is growing. The Third NDC targets a 17.1% reduction in net greenhouse gas emissions and 26.8% by 2035. This could have a price tag of &nbsp;$73.74 billion — most of it from international climate finance at a time when money for it is drying up.
Nepal also hopes to increase electricity generation to 28,500MW by 2035, up the sales of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">electric public vehicles </a>to 90%, and operate at least 100km of integrated electric bus, trolley and light rail transit in Kathmandu Valley, and build 300km of electric train network.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-public-in-public-transport">The public in public transport</a>, Sonia Awale
These are lofty promises at a time when the government's next budget has a huge revenue shortfall, and the Ministry of Finance is expected to increase taxes on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/evs-hybrids-and-plug-ins?%2F">battery-operated vehicles</a> which have seen a huge increase due to past rebates.
“<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/act-now-on-climate">Climate change </a>has become political, big emitters aren’t even respecting <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/combining-ipcc-targets-with-sdgs">global targets</a>. So it is very unlikely they are listening to us,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “Nepal just does not have the political stature to push global commitments. But we could have narrowed the focus and taken the lead on regional action.”&nbsp;
The World Meteorological Organisation (WMO) has predicted above-normal rainfall and temperatures for South Asia for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">monsoon</a> 2025. Pre-monsoon rains this year are above normal and could be a sign of things to come.&nbsp;
“Rainfall patterns have changed, they are shorter, have higher intensity and are localised. Mudslides are now a big problem,” says Upadhyay. “We need specific intervention for specific places, taking into account geological and other factors to increase <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/on-high-monsoon-alert-in-nepal">preparedness</a>.”
Too much water is a problem, but so is too little. Nepal has suffered chronic <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-suffers-another-winter-drought">winter drought</a>, causing natural springs to go dry — affecting food security and pushing outmigration.&nbsp;
The Climate Impact Survey 2022 put droughts as the number one <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/climate-change-hits-himalayan-rice?%2F">climate concern</a> of most Nepalis, but it barely got a mention in the plush conference hall this week. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-transboundary-haze-affects-nepal">Transboundary pollution</a> and black carbon deposition accelerating <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">glacier melting </a>also could have done with more attention.
One key proposal at Sagarmatha Sambaad was to establish a climate fund for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/from-the-north-pole-to-the-third-pole">Himalayan nations</a>. But given the geopolitical tensions after the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nukes-in-the-neighbourhood">India-Pakistan conflict</a> this month, and the suspension of the Indus Water Treaty, this is even less likely.
Says Arjun Dhakal: “The dialogue could have been more impactful if we had taken concrete steps to set up the Himalayan climate fund instead of just proposing it.”&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya">Climate change is a disaster in the Nepal Himalaya</a>, Sonam Choekyi Lama
The next round of Sagarmatha Sambaad is planned for 2027, and if present warming trends continue, global average temperature will have exceeded 1.6°C above pre-industrial levels. And experts say the Himalaya warms 0.7°C above the global average — making <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/global-heating-melts-mountains">glaciers of High Asia melt</a> even more rapidly.&nbsp;
Of the estimated $400 billion annually required for loss and damage, only $768.4 million has been pledged to the Fund for Responding to Loss and Damage (FRLD) since the operationalisation of the Loss and Damage Fund during COP28. Even then, only $321 million has been paid into the FRLD.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/blueprint-for-a-net-zero-nepal">efforts to reduce emissions</a> have declined globally in recent times, regardless of advancement in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-can-lead-in-zero-carbon">clean energy transition</a>, and some say as the developing world forms its climate action entirely around climate financing, they will also lose their moral ground when advocating for reducing emissions.
“We are running out of time, we cannot keep waiting for the loss and damage fund,” says Upadhyay. “Nepal’s own upcoming budget can do much for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-nepal-can-finance-climate-action?mibextid=Zxz2cZ">climate action</a> if we prioritise emission reduction and preparedness.”

Himalayan meltdown

The spring 2025 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">mountaineering season</a> has started with an early reminder of the fine balance of glory and risk on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/knowing-our-mountains-43v4iyvo">Himalayan peaks</a>.&nbsp; Everest as always is the biggest draw. But on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/il-y-a-d-autres-annapurnas-dans-la-vie-des-hommes">75th anniversary of its first ascent</a>, Annapurna has seen record numbers of expeditions, and climbers are also commemorating 70 years of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>’s first successful climb in 1955.&nbsp; But as a stark reminder of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2912">dangers of Himalayan mountaineering</a> that have been exacerbated by a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-third-pole-is-warming-faster-than-expected">warming climate</a>, came on Annapurna with the tragic deaths of two promising young Nepali high altitude guides.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Everest</a> is seeing big numbers because it is Everest, and it is there. Some 220 international climbers and their guides from 22 expeditions have already arrived at Everest Base Camp, but this number is expected to cross 450, and could even beat the 2023 record of 478 foreign climbers.&nbsp; There seems to be greater demand for Everest permits because the fee is being hiked up from $11,000 to $15,000 starting this autumn. But the $4,000 increase is not expected to reduce the crowds, and therefore<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/overkill-on-everest"> the risks, on the world’s highest mountain</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250418050440_f2cb0157d4779ee131d4b7ef8b67302904cad74b37aee48a778bbdcff05ed824.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250418050440_f2cb0157d4779ee131d4b7ef8b67302904cad74b37aee48a778bbdcff05ed824" data-rendition-name="original" width="1121" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Number of climbing permits 2025"> </figure>  The Department of Tourism starts issuing permits for the mountain only in early-April, which many find absurd because mountaineers start preparing for their Everest climb years in advance.&nbsp; “That is just the process, we want to make sure climbers have all of their paperwork in order once they land in Nepal,” says Goma Rai from the Department of Tourism.&nbsp; Even as expeditions make their first forays up the Khumbu Icefall on Everest, there has already been considerable activity on other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-just-2-years-a-nepal-peak-becomes-snowless">Himalayan peaks</a>. Makalu (8,485m) has already seen <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nepali-times-buzz/seven-summits-women-climb-again,1486">successful summits </a>this season. Ten guides fixing ropes reached the top of the world’s fifth highest mountain on 10 April. &nbsp; There are two Indian expeditions on Kanchenjunga, which at 8,586m is the third-tallest mountain in the world. The Indian teams are climbing from the Nepal side of the border peak because climbing from the Indian side is not allowed. &nbsp; One of the teams is led by three-time Everest summiteer Col Ranveer Sing Jamwal which is on the last leg of the ‘Har Shikhar Tiranga’ campaign to plant an Indian tricolour on the highest point of all 28 Indian states.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Unpredictable weather</a> and its technical nature makes the north face of ‘Kangch’ treacherous. There have been 12,884 Everest summits since 1953, but there have only been 250 ascents of Kanchenjunga in 70 years. Annapurna saw 45 summits over 6-7 April before the weather worsened. On 7 April, an avalanche swept away Ngima Tashi Sherpa and Rima Rinje Sherpa. Pemba Thenduk Sherpa, who was also roped up, survived. “It was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-years-after-avalanche-langtang-is-locked-down">big avalanche</a>, taller than a Kathmandu house when it came down,” recalls Pemba Thenduk. “Me and my client were right under a serac and were saved. We realised our two friends had been swept away but could not find them.”&nbsp; After four days of searching with two helicopters, the expedition company Seven Summit Trek abandoned the search. Nima Tashi was the unsung hero who helped save the life of an incapacitated Malaysian climber, carrying him down from 8,400m on Everest last year. A video of the rescue by Ngima Tashi and Gelje Sherpa became an international sensation. But luck ran out for Ngima Tashi and Rima Rinje on Annapurna last week. ‘We have lost two of our finest <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/without-sherpas-there-is-no-mountaineering">Sherpa guides</a>,’ Seven Summits said in a statement. ‘It is no longer possible for anyone to survive this long under the ice, and prolonging search means risking the lives of other Sherpas.’ In the past 75 years, Annapurna has seen the highest fatality rate among Himalayan peaks, with one third of those trying to climb it not making it down alive. This year, guides ran out of fixed rope because there were so many crevasses on the north face. They also reported bigger and more frequent rockfalls and avalanches.&nbsp; South African climber John Black was nearly caught in the avalanche that killed the guides. He then made the agonising decision to turn back soon after leaving Camp 3 last week on Annapurna.&nbsp; “I was uncomfortable and uneasy. Some may call it gut, others may call it calculated,” says Black, who actually shared a chocolate with the two Sherpas just before they were swept away by the avalanche. “It is certainly a sharp reminder that the risks are real and things can change in a heartbeat.”&nbsp; After the avalanche, there has been criticism of some climbers deciding to be helicoptered off the north face despite not showing signs of immediate emergency. A problem in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-himalayan-odyssey">Himalayan mountaineering </a>in recent years has been the greater numbers of inexperienced climbers who are not only risks to themselves, but also to guides and other climbers. Many do not know when to turn back when the going gets tough. “Some climbers struggled with crampons, some seemed to lack decent techniques for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/if-the-ice-is-gone-we-are-done">climbing rock and ice</a>,” says Black. “In many cases, the climbers were too slow and struggled to move efficiently across tricky terrain. On a mountain like Annapurna, speed is the only thing you can do to reduce exposure to danger.”&nbsp; The problem has been made worse by instant gratification through social media posts. The challenge of climbing a Himalayan peak has been replaced by an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/love-of-books-goes-online">Instagram</a> summit fetish, and expedition companies try to accommodate the wishes of their clients.&nbsp; The other expedition that generated a controversy even before it started is of a four-member team of British Army veterans who are ‘acclimatising’ by breathing xenon gas ahead of the climb to enhance production of their red blood corpuscles. Although this is said to be an ‘experiment’, use of the gas by the Mission Everest Expedition has been criticised because it is banned by the Anti-doping Agency as performance enhancing. Dimantha Dilan Thenuwara, a Sri Lankan IT professional, is attempting the gorgeous Ama Dablam. He plans to take both the Sri Lanka and Nepal flags up to the summit, and wear the daura suruwal Nepali national dress on top. He wants to promote a message of ‘prosperity through unity’, especially among <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/south-asia-2040-qxr16oup">South Asian countries</a>.&nbsp; Thenuwara describes himself as a pampered child who was best friends with his dad, who was killed in the 2004 Sri Lanka Tsunami. The tragedy drives him to climb.&nbsp; “This expedition is a mission that began 20 years ago,” says Thenuwara, who had to grow up quickly, and put himself through tech school. He is financing the trip himself, and believes strongly in the need for youth to remember their roots. The Ama Dablam climb is<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6738"> preparation for an expedition</a> to climb K2 later this year.&nbsp; Another notable expedition is of Peter Hamor of Slovakia and the Italian couple Nives Meroi and Romano Benet, who are attempting a new route on 7,590m Yalung Peak in the Kanchenjunga massif. A two-member British team is already at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/letters-from-everest-base-camp-1-vfqcer0e">Everest Base Camp</a> to go up the Lhotse face and make one more attempt to jump off the mountain in wingsuits. &nbsp;

Vishad Raj Onta

Glory and risk on Himalayan peaks

Before much of the world realised the impact and severity of the climate crisis, Nepal was already moving towards clean energy through ‘small is beautiful’ technology that improved on traditional tools and methods.&nbsp; Today, Nepal is building multi-billion dollar hydropower projects and importing fancy electrical appliances. But few know that both the government and the country’s development partners were actively promoting small, renewable, and green energy sources before climate change became the buzzword. The drivers behind this movement beginning in the late 1970s, included the widespread belief that Nepal was losing its forests at an alarming rate resulting in soil erosion. Called the ‘Himalayan Degradation Theory’, it was later debunked, but not before international conferences and workshops on appropriate technology were held to address the threat of denuded mountains. &nbsp; In 1978, Nepal-based Belgian Jesuit Bertrand Saubolle and Swiss engineer Andreas Bachmann authored the popular book, Mini Technology. They wrote about how to cool a house without air-conditioning, how to chill beer without a refrigerator, how to produce gas for cooking and lighting, and how to make crows trap themselves.&nbsp; Although afforestation and agricultural programs in Nepal 45 years ago received the bulk of foreign and domestic assistance, a small but important portion was devoted to the development of alternative sources of energy for cooking, lighting, and work. Even back then, Dipak Gyawali, Krishna Murari Gautam and Kunda Dixit were already publishing the Biogas Newsletter and the Nepali language alternative energy journal Shakti to highlight small-scale sustainable solutions to the energy, food and water needs of Nepalis. Some of the technologies developed and tested in Nepal are shown below. Some are from 50 years ago.&nbsp; Technicians and tinkerers drove the development of these alternative tools. Some, like Andreas Bachman and Akkal Man Nakarmi, were certified engineers. Many were mechanically-inclined amateurs with a mission, some would say passion, for developing and disseminating simple technologies that could make life better and easier for the average Nepali farmer. All were convinced that their work would one day in one way or another lead to poverty alleviation, better natural resource management, and improved livelihoods. Today, it is important to ask: did the decades of appropriate technology research, development, and dissemination have an impact?&nbsp; Biogas is one of the success stories of Nepal with over 400,000 household biogas plants installed, while large-scale industrial plants are in various stages of operation today. The spread has now slowed because of outmigration and the entry of cheap LPG. Hundreds of improved ghatta are still in use. Scores of micro-and mini-hydropower plants continue to provide power for hundreds of Nepal’s isolated mountain villages. Solar lighting is common in thousands of trekker’s lodges throughout Nepal, as are solar battery chargers for the now-ubiquitous cell phones and laptops. Solar water boilers for kitchen use, and solar driers for fruit preservation, are in use in Nepal’s more arid and sunnier locations, such as Khumbu and Mustang. Solar pumps irrigate fields in difficult terrain. Unfortunately, the Arusha windmill never left Kathmandu Valley, and the legendary winds of the Kali Gandaki proved to be too much for what proved to be a poorly anchored Savonius windmill.&nbsp; Likewise, solar reflectors and insulated cookers never really caught on, most likely because they were too cumbersome or inconvenient to use regularly. And whatever happened to the predictions of catastrophic loss of forest cover on the mountains, one might wonder.&nbsp; Unexpectedly, the &nbsp;‘deforestation’ pressures of the 1970s were largely reduced by outmigration, abandoned farmland, LPG cylinders and second-growth forests. Nepal's successful community-based forestry initiatives of the 1980s also deserve credit, and has nearly doubled its forest cover in the past 25 years.&nbsp; Reduction in fuelwood use brought about by improved chulo, solar water heaters, backburner water heaters, and locally sourced electricity assuredly played important roles as well. Nepal is the pioneer of appropriate technologies in South Asia. But how do all of the empirical successes, and some failures, stack up against the gigawatts of energy being produced by massive new hydroelectric stations that is making possible the current switch to electric vehicles?&nbsp; In terms of total energy output, appropriate technology’s current contribution is miniscule. But the spirit of innovation and the need for locally-appropriate solutions in rural areas will continue to have relevance to many. Simple, cost-effective solutions may just be what Nepal, and the world, need most in the long run.&nbsp; This is especially true because expensive hydro infrastructure and dams are at a higher risk of climate disasters as seen in Melamchi and Sikkim, and Tama Kosi recently. &nbsp; <h2>&nbsp;IMPROVED CHULO</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_5165e36a6f8f2644f30835ec703dec59566e8167408ac6849bea7e3f616bb654.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250201030220_5165e36a6f8f2644f30835ec703dec59566e8167408ac6849bea7e3f616bb654" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1007" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Engineers test the efficiency of a traditional firewood stove, measuring the temperature of water. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  Chulo stoves were tested at the Royal Nepal Academy of Science and Technology (now NAST) to be disseminated across rural Nepal. Form-fitting holes for pots, fire breaks to direct the flames more directly to the bottom of the pots, and chimneys to remove smoke increased the efficiency of traditional firewood stoves, and improved health. <h2>HONEY BEES</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_7ec4ac53f7bdf614e258436b244bf2bdefe8d5d6da7a3103d141561c75377f8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250201030220_7ec4ac53f7bdf614e258436b244bf2bdefe8d5d6da7a3103d141561c75377f8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Bertrand Saubolle with a beehive in Godavari in the early 1980s. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Jesuit priest Bertrand Saubolle was a tireless promoter of 'small is beautiful' technology like biogas, solar driers and small hydropower. <h2>BIOGAS&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030224_300fe4d23c85dc7ae859a2ca593ca5e8cdb623faab7afc25ecd656eb2ce858bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250201030224_300fe4d23c85dc7ae859a2ca593ca5e8cdb623faab7afc25ecd656eb2ce858bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>A biogas plant in Kathmandu in the 1980s, and a homemaker cooking using clean methane gas from a digester. Photos: BROT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  In the mid-1970s, the United Mission to Nepal (UMN) introduced the first village biogas plants based on successful models from India. Each unit produced clean methane gas for cooking and lighting, as well as a nutrient-rich slurry that made an excellent pathogen-free fertiliser. The innovative underground dome Nepali design was maintenance free, and cheaper and spread rapidly with subsidised loans from the government. <h2>SOLAR PLANTS</h2> Despite the dismal state of investment and research into solar plants in Nepal today leading to a chronic lack of diversification in the energy sector, the opposite was true in the 1980s. Engineers at Balaju Yantra Shala were testing and marketing the first generation of solar water heaters for domestic home use.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_8fd43115360c6f633c131a277c4e4f27960b7e8d27097f2f65716589450f8468.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250201030220_8fd43115360c6f633c131a277c4e4f27960b7e8d27097f2f65716589450f8468" data-rendition-name="original" width="1667" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Solar water heaters on display at Balaju Yantra Shala. Nepal is still benefiting from this early investment in passive solar water heaters. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_27f9c80b02a924c70b4d156905c66d98bc35235a87b6ce7504b162b450076608.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250201030220_27f9c80b02a924c70b4d156905c66d98bc35235a87b6ce7504b162b450076608" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1098" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>A solar apple dryer being tested at the apple farm in Marpha in 1982. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030228_22fd5f332d0929f46e791cd58ec18ab58de9c1c8b75b36972b2026c61f733968.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250201030228_22fd5f332d0929f46e791cd58ec18ab58de9c1c8b75b36972b2026c61f733968" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Solar reflector cookers and hotbox cookers being tested in the early 1980s which, along with similar parabolic reflectors, focused the sun’s rays on a pot of water that could rapidly bring it to a boil. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Other solar technologies included solar dryers for drying apples in Marpha, reflective and hotbox cookers that reduced fuelwood use by placing a boiling pot of rice into an insulated box, and solar water boilers that quickly produced hot water for kitchen use. <h2>&nbsp;WINDMILLS</h2> Windmill technology was also being introduced and tested, and included an Arusha-style windmill constructed by Peace Corps Volunteer Jack Martin and RONAST in 1980, and a Savonius-style vertical axis windmill built by Swiss and Nepali engineers at Balaju Yantra Shala in 1980.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_0cf47b4603fb4b8445a34f99e5fb8de9345b6de8fe6cb15c26835c0b6fdb05e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250201030220_0cf47b4603fb4b8445a34f99e5fb8de9345b6de8fe6cb15c26835c0b6fdb05e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>An Arusha-style windmill constructed in 1980 (left), and a Savonius-style vertical axis windmill (right). Photos: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  The latter was eventually installed and tested in Jomsom by USAID’s Resource Conservation and Utilisation Project (RCUP) in 1981, but came to grief due to high winds. <h2>MICROHYDRO</h2> Micro- and mini-hydropower technologies, although common to Nepal’s urban regions for nearly 70 years, were being disseminated to more rural locations by the 1980s as well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030232_d73ce5b0ad5d9654016a2dc8c2efd503866c57928e50ecd7c5a0bcffcfcba755.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250201030232_d73ce5b0ad5d9654016a2dc8c2efd503866c57928e50ecd7c5a0bcffcfcba755" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still beautiful"> <figcaption>A Penstock pipe being installed below Namche Bazar in 1985. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_c841d624c525286ed3449f0dd47c258d81b29e469b61063c8316a6035dc1f6f7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250201030220_c841d624c525286ed3449f0dd47c258d81b29e469b61063c8316a6035dc1f6f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Namche Bazaar (3,440 m) at night with its first electric lights in 1985, and Mt Thamserku looming above. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1985, former Peace Corps volunteer Brot Coburn and UNESCO designed and installed the first micro-hydroelectric system in Namche Bazar. It was later washed away by the Dig Tso glacial lake outburst in 1985.&nbsp; <h2>IMPROVED GHATTA</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030236_a3ef5bb9385a5da005dbed93179dc09bba74be49e11fcc7dce788a135ea3d41e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250201030236_a3ef5bb9385a5da005dbed93179dc09bba74be49e11fcc7dce788a135ea3d41e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Smaii ls still possible NT "> <figcaption>Engineers Akkal Man Nakrami and Andreas Bachmann at a workshop in Asan in 1982. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Engineers like Akkal Man Nakrami and Andreas Bachmann &nbsp;developed improved ghatta, or Multi-Purpose Power Units (MPPU), that not only improved traditional grain grinding efficiency, but also produced electricity. For the first time hundreds of villages across the country had access to electricity at night. The more efficient water mills used better designed paddles on ball bearings that could be connected to a dynamo to generate enough power for domestic lighting in remote areas.&nbsp; Alton C Byers, PhD, is the Faculty Research Scientist at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research (INSTAAR) at the University of Colorado at Boulder.&nbsp;

Small is still possible

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible While premium beauty product outlets were closing during the Covid-19 pandemic, two young women gambled on setting up a new skin and haircare brand with natural ingredients mostly sourced from Nepal and suited for the Nepali complexion. Arushree Sharma Khatiwada and Megha Agarwal were batchmates in school before they left for studies abroad, returning to set up Avani Nepal after year-long rigorous research into ayurveda-based cosmetic products. Avani in Sanskrit means ‘earth’, and as the name suggests it is committed to bringing all natural, pure and authentic range of beauty solutions.&nbsp; “We found a gap in the Nepali market demand for cosmetics, which is why we decided on a brand sourced from all-natural Himalayan herbs that are not used or explored properly,” says co-founder Khatiwada.&nbsp; Nepal is a treasure trove for medicinal plants and those with therapeutic properties. After all, legend has it that Hanuman flew right across the subcontinent from Sri Lanka to the Himalaya to find a rare medicinal plant to save the life of Lord Ram, who was wounded in battle. When he could not find the specific plant, he tore off a whole mountain and brought it down. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Looking good by doing good</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="2012" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Medicinal plants in Nepal range from yarsagumba to jatamasi and 500 other species traditionally used in the Ayurveda as well as now in the wellness industry. Avani is also trying to experiment hibiscus, Himalayan honey and other plants to eventually launch an export drive. Running a business in Nepal is no easy task, especially for small scale locally crafted products but in a few years, Avani has ammased loyal customer base and have many repeat customers. “While it was tricky initially, we were determined to launch our products with the best quality ingredients and in an affordable price range,” says Khatiwada. Following a worldwide trend and emulating the method used by Korean cosmetic brands, Avani has deployed celebrities and influencers to increase its outreach through tikTok , Facebook and YouTube. &nbsp;Actresses Barsha Shiwakoti and Shilpa Maskey and makeup artists like Lemi have reviewed their products favourably. Sutainability is a big part of the brand, and Avani uses glass bottles, cardboard boxes, paper bags for all its products. Plastic use is cut to a minimum, and where used is recycled.&nbsp; “Many people think that sustainable brands are expensive, we want to bust that myth,” Khatiwada told us. “We focus on being eco-friendly using ethically sourced materials that are paraben, silicon, and cruelty free.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/proud-to-wear-dolpo">Proud to wear DOLPO</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49" data-rendition-name="original" width="1048" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Avani has expanded its business to get a toehold in Nepal’s tourism and wellness industry, and the products are carried by spas in leading hotels and resorts in Kathmandu and Pokhara such as the Terraces, Marriott, and Kavya resort, and is in talk with the Hideaway Resort in Pokhara.&nbsp; The skin and haircare brand that initially started with 10 products has since expanded its line to 60 with goods placed in more than 100 stores across Kathmandu. Plans are in the works to expand to India, China and in Japan partnering with Okada. Avani Nepal’s founders say that they support empowerment through employment and training opportunities for women at the company. Khatiwada herself has been engaged with organisations such as Nepal Women Chamber of Commerce, and Nepal Youth Entrepreneur Forum. Additional support from the government such as the provision of lower excise duties has helped but guidance for export and other business regulations is as crucial. Such an environment would also foster opportunities for the youth who are otherwise moving away for jobs or study abroad. “While everyone is trying to go abroad, opportunities can be created here in Nepal itself, with adequate support from the government,” says Khatiwada. “In the meantime, we are eyeing for long term benefits. We are trying to create a legacy for cosmetic brands in Nepal.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/java-in-the-himalaya-y1ilc21h">Java in the Himalaya</a>, Vishad Raj Onta

Redefining the criteria for beauty

&nbsp;With a near two-thirds majority, the RSP has a chance that no other party in Nepal has ever had--to reboot how Nepal is run. Winning an election with such an overwhelming majority was one thing, but running an effficient government will be a whole new ball game. From the start, it will not be easy because the country is running straight into a major economic crisis due to the West Asia war.&nbsp; With 125 first-past-the-post direct wins and 57 proportional representation seats — over 47% of the total 10.7 million valid votes — the RSP has 182 seats in Parliament. The Nepali Congress (NC) is a distant second with 38 seats, while the UML is trailing with 25. Three more made it to the national party list: Nepali Communist Party (17), the royalist RPP (5) and the new entry Shram Sanskriti Party (7) led by former Dharan mayor Harka Sampang. Shram Sanskriti’s performance is also a clear indicator that identity politics is still a potent force. The RSP with its majority can now form a stable government for the next five years, but there are issues that may surface with the choice of Cabinet members and other appointments. PM candidate Balendra Shah and party chair Rabi Lamichhane both have big egos and are ambitious, and Nepal cannot afford rumours of a split be a self-fulfilling prophecy. There is precedent. The last two-thirds government under the Communist Party of Nepal formed after the alliance of UML and Maoist Centre in 2022 collapsed following a power struggle between two cop comrades K P Oli and Pushpa Kamal Dahal. History in Nepal has a habit of repeating itself. No elected government in Nepal has ever completed a full five-year term, so the RSP has a chance to rewrite history. Besides egos and the West Asia crisis, the party has other challenges: legacy parties rule local governments and the National Assembly. The RSP’s rejection of provincial elections and federalism in 2022 did not seem to have affected its votes in the Madhes, but local governments at the periphery will be trying their level best to make it difficult for the centre. The RSP’s strategy should be not to alienate the old parties, but try to win them over and collaborate to build bases outside of major urban centres.&nbsp; Some think Balendra Shah’s aloof and uncommunicative nature could hide an authoritarian streak. And Rabi Lamichhane has been scathing about media exposes of his alleged wrongdoings. Despite this, the RSP's strategy should be to avoid alienating civil society any more than necessary.&nbsp; The media’s role in a democracy is to play the adversarial check-and-balance role, especially when one party is so dominant. However, the press must give up its corrosive, cynical coverage that almost hopes the RSP will fail from day one -- especially since social media offers no help on that score. There are so many things wrong with Nepal that even at the best of times, and even with a supermajority government, it would be impossible to solve them all overnight. But voters are an impatient lot, and they expect a lot pronto.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313080320_388d87c728fce65393a7042b4e649fe73af559b3459c45d8aff7f320acbd62dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260313080320_388d87c728fce65393a7042b4e649fe73af559b3459c45d8aff7f320acbd62dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1033" loading="lazy" alt="Page 1 map"> </figure>  Effective governance takes time, and the RSP must be given the chance even if it fails to make course-corrections. Shah and Lamichhane, on the other hand, must show restraint and prove their critics wrong. Instead of posting inflammatory content on their social media feeds and deploying cyber militias to troll critics into silence, they could try developing a thicker skin. The RSP could work on a clear strategy and plan of action to get this country back on its feet. The party's rise was built on emotion, not ideology. But every party needs ideals, just saying it is against corruption is not enough. Its stance on federalism, secularism, inclusion, need to be clarified. The RSP's lofty promise to bring young Nepalis home will be easier said than done. What will they return to? How can we make this worthwhile? And how do we provide jobs for the other 500,000 Nepali youth who enter the job market every year?&nbsp; Nepal will need liberal policies regarding domestic investment and FDI to reform manufacturing, industry, tourism and infrastructure to ensure jobs at home, while also working toward achieving the 7% annual growth rate projected by the RSP.&nbsp; Rabi Lamichhane has introduced the term 'development diplomacy’ to steer the country away from traditional geopolitics toward economic partnerships with India, China, and other international partners. But the environmental cost of mega projects must also be taken into account in the rush to development.&nbsp; The RSP’s anti-corruption drive, implementing a high-level commission to investigate assets acquired since 1990, must also include judicial reform. Meanwhile, quality health services and education must be affordable and accessible.&nbsp; Cleaning up the bureaucracy will be critical. Electoral reform including election spending and out-of-country voting must be a priority from the get go. It is a long to-do list. But for the very first time, the Nepali people are genuinely excited about their new leaders and the promised transformation. Not another Switzerland or Singapore, people just want better development, more efficient service delivery, meaningful jobs at home and an accountable government.&nbsp; That should not be too much to ask. Sonia Awale

As clear as a bell

The Asian Development Bank approved a $40M soft loan for Nepal’s Digital Transformation Project. The project aims to develop a citizen service portal, improve the national social registry, establish a government-wide data exchange platform, digitise 11 high-impact government services, and strengthen cybersecurity. The World Bank had previously approved a $50M loan for the same project.&nbsp;

climate-change