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“How can we argue that those victims whose loved ones disappeared should simply forget?”

<img width="800" height="451" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131132/637235539c7e80680e0c497djpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Nepali human rights activists and survivors of the 1996-2006 Maoist insurgency have written to United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres alerting him to ‘multiple flaws’ in a transitional justice amendment bill before Nepal’s Parliament.The letter was handed over to the UN Resident Coordinator in Nepal Richard Howard on Monday in Kathmandu, one day before the International Day of the Victims of Enforced Disappearances on 30 August. A copy of the letter was also given to Michelle Bachelet Jeria, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights.The Comprehensive Peace Accord of 2006 envisaged setting up a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/no-closure-after-nepals-insurgency/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/no-closure-after-nepals-insurgency/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1661934213834000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0gT_QRHglKZGU7wjxZeoZm">transitional justice mechanism</a> with the formation of a Commission for the Investigation of Enforced Disappeared Persons and a Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The commissions were finally formed in 2014, but have <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/stop-stalling-transitional-justice-global-human-rights-bodies/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/stop-stalling-transitional-justice-global-human-rights-bodies/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1661934213834000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3BQNmw2JY2EtTKZ9hfL2bK">lacked teeth</a> because former enemies have served together in coalition governments that have tried to brush war-time atrocities under the carpet. Read  also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dead-and-dying,3955">The dead, and the dying</a>, Om Astha RaiThe Commission on Enforced Disappearances did draw up a list of 1,334 people who have been missing since the conflict ended in 2006. Less than half of the families of those disappeared by both sides have received compensation.But, more importantly, most have not been told the truth about whether their relatives are dead or alive, why they were taken away, or where their bodies are. Most families have been living for the past 16 years without closure.The government had been stalling on implementing a Supreme Court ruling to amend the 2014 transitional justice law, but got the human rights activist turned Minister for Law and Constitutional Affairs Govinda Sharma Bandi last month to present an amendment bill in Parliament.Human rights activists and conflict groups have held street demonstrations against the proposed bill, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1661934213834000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3yY1dq5VJPT-IyGX1Pigr2">which they say is perpetrator-friendly</a>, and would grant amnesty to those responsible for war crimes by both sides during the conflict. Minister Bandi serves in a government led by the Nepali Congress which was in power for most of the conflict years, their coalition partners from the Maoist party which was waging an armed struggle. <img width="1554" height="1468" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131132/637235559c7e80680e0c497ejpeg.jpg" alt="">Both parties now find themselves on the same side, and appear to have colluded to ensure that the draft bill will allow state security forces and guerrilla commanders who are now in government to not be answerable for torture and disappearances, summary executions, rape and other heinous crimes.The letter to the UN Secretary-General seeks his good offices to ensure that changes be made to the draft bill so that families and victims receive truth and justice. It reminds the Secretary-General that the United Nations has been a meaningful partner in Nepal’s peace process, which makes it surprising that the respective Special Rapporteurs, the OHCHR and other UN entities have not publicly reacted to the transitional justice bill.The letter states that the transitional justice bill does not follow the ruling of Nepal’s Supreme Court and goes against international law. It draws attention to the re-definition and distinction between ‘murder’ and ‘cruelly conducted murder’ in the bill, as well as the issues of child soldiers, torture and wartime rape.‘The amendment bill is designed to provide de facto immunity to perpetrators of both sides,’ the letter states, adding, “we hope that the United Nations will remain engaged on the matter.’UN Resident Coordinator Richard Howard assured the meeting of human rights conflict victims’ groups (pictured) that the United Nations remained committed to values inherent in the transitional justice process.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/forgetting-to-remember/">Forgetting to remember</a>, Sahina ShresthaThe letter was signed by Gauri Sankhar Lal Das and Sushil Pyakurel (former commissioners of National Human Rights Commission), Kul Chandra Gautam (Former Assistant Secretary General of the United Nations, Min Bahadur Shahi (Human Rights Alliance), Nani Maya Thapa (NGO Federation of Nepal), Suman Adhikari (Conflict Victim Orphan Society Nepal) and Maina Karki (Conflict Victims’ Common Platform), among others.It also included victims’ groups, including the Army Single Women and Injured Families Group, Conflict Victims’ Society for Justice, Amar Prahari Pariwar, Conflict Victims’ National Alliance, Discharged People’s Liberation Army Nepal.Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal/">Transitional injustice in Nepal</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit

Nepali activists write to UN Secretary-General

<figure><img width="1500" height="1241" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc329c7e80680e08bc0djpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>The letter Kiran Chaudhary got last year from the NHRC informing her about compensation for torture and rape by the security forces during the conflict.</figcaption></figure>Last October, a letter came for Kiran Chaudhary from the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC). It was Dasain, so the letter took several months for it to reach her husband’s home in Kailali.The letter had made a recommendation to the government to pay Chaudhary NRs300,000 as compensation for her ordeal during the insurgency, and to arrest the perpetrators. The conflict lasted from 1996-2006 with a loss of more than 17,000 lives. There are still 1,500 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-empty-chairs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">missing</a>,  and there have never been a specific number for those maimed or still <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">suffering from mental trauma</a>.Kiran Chaudhary is one of them.It was in April 2002, four vanloads of government security personnel arrived at the village in Kailali district and entered her house. Chaudhary, a schoolgirl at the time, was accused of being a Maoist supporter."They accused me of being involved in the Lamki bombing, and asked me how many people I had killed," recalls Chaudhary. For the next 38 days, she would be locked away, followed by torture and rape."I can only remember that everything was red with blood. My menstruation cycle had not begun then, but in detention, I started to bleed. I could not tell if I was menstruating or bleeding from being raped regularly.”More than 18 years later, Chaudhary continues to suffer from the physical and psychological trauma. In her mid-30s now, she nurses a fractured pelvis from beatings, and the severe injuries caused to her reproductive organs by repeated rape.“I have been married for more than six years, and I cannot have children. When my in-laws ask, my husband is kind enough to say it is because of him,” explains Chaudhary. The couple still spends a quarter of their income on her medicines. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/">Nepal runs out of excuses to address war crimes</a>, Tufan Neupane <figure><img width="1400" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc369c7e80680e08bc0ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The letter from NHRC last year gave the couple some hope, and they spent some time in Kathmandu last week, visiting people at the Commission. But they came away confused about the process of getting the compensation money.“We went to the Commission to ask them what we should do with the letter, and they said we have to go to Finance Ministry and Home Ministry, but we don’t know anyone there,” Chaudhary said. She had already spent ten days in Kathmandu waiting in government offices, trying to get noticed. But this is not new to her. Chaudhary has been in Kathmandu every few years following-up on her case. On most occasions, she walks from office to office, waits on people until she runs out of savings. She registered a case with the NHRC against the perpetrators in 2013. But it was only after the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/truth-about-truth-commission,3565" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Truth and Reconciliation Commission</a> as set up two years later that it received some attention. But with 63,000 other complaints, progress on individual cases like hers has been slow.  “It all depends on the Cabinet now,” an NHRC official told Nepali Times, requesting anonymity. She added, “We have already issued a letter recommending the government pay her compensation and take action against some individuals in the security force who violated and tortured her.”<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/state-of-impunity,2976">State of impunity</a>, EditorialMeanwhile, Chaudhary’s life staggers along. A storm last April, blew away the thatched roof of her house and destroyed her documents, including her citizenship certificate.  “We received too much rain last year and the fry plopped out of the pond before they could grow to full size. It was a bad year for business,” says Kiran’s husband Mahesh. “We grow just enough rice to last a few months, but with her medical expenses, we never have enough.” Last year, Mahesh spent a few weeks going down to Lamki, learning Korean. He also cleared the Employment Permit System (EPS) exams, but with the pandemic, his migration plan is on hold. “We thought if I work abroad for a few years, we can save some money for her treatment.” Kiran also requires physiotherapy for her back, but the nearest hospital is two hours’ bus ride away. Most days after field work she cannot sit because of the pain. Kiran Chaudhary was detained, tortured and raped in two different army bases in Kailali. When she tried to go back to school after her release, she was ostracised and forced to drop out. For a year, she had to report to the police every day, and the villagers called her, “आर्मीले लगेको केटी”.“So many people have died in my family in the last few years, I find myself very alone, with the same problems that never leave,” sighs Chaudhary, with a catch in her voice. She tries not to think about her past, and has tried many ways of moving on. In 2012, she briefly joined Surya Bahadur Thapa’s Rastriya Janashakti Party, hoping that political affiliation would ease her life in some ways, but quickly realised she had no time for politics.  Peace is not peacefulFrom withdrawing inward to shun memories that would send her into fits, she has learned over the years to live with the past. But every time she hears of another woman who suffered similarly during the conflict, and the government doing nothing to help, she feels like the cycle is a perpetual one.“I am not the only one, am I?” she asks, in reference to recent cases of rape. “Even the officer at the Commission said that there are so many like me. Will they even do something about us? If I get the money it would at least pay my medical bills.”The NHRC official said the Commission has been following up on conflict-era cases, and has been pressuring the government to include individual cases like Kiran Chaudhary’s on the agenda. “It would be easier for everyone if the government made the decision and sent the compensation amount to be released to the local governments so that they don’t have to keep coming to Kathmandu,” the officer says. “But with the political mess we are in, it doesn’t look like that will happen soon. And it’s always the victims who keep suffering.”Some names have been changed.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-stalls-on-war-crime-probes/">Nepal stalls on war crime probes</a>, Nepali Times

Pratibha Tuladhar

The lingering trauma of war

<figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/636934429c7e80680e03dfe6jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>HAMMERS AND SICKLES: Basanta Mahatara (left) and Nirmala Thapa’s husbands were murdered by opposing forces during the Nepal conflict. Twelve years later, both are now fighting for the same cause: truth and justice. Pic: Om Astha Rai</figcaption></figure>Basanta Mahatara was just 22 and pregnant with her second child when her husband, a policeman, was executed by the Maoists after being captured during a raid in Pyuthan in 1999.After that, police began hunting down Maoists in reprisal attacks among Pyuthan’s mountains. Nirmala Thapa’s husband was a Maoist, and was dragged out of his house and later shot in 2002. Like Mahatara, Thapa was also pregnant with her second child when her husband was killed. <img width="640" height="605" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/636934459c7e80680e03dfe7jpeg.jpg" alt="">The two war widows, both from Dharmawati village of Pyuthan, struggled to raise their children. They met after the signing of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12806#.W_aXRjgzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the Comprehensive Peace Accord</a> in November 2006, and were united for a cause: truth and justice. They say their husbands were both summarily killed in detention, and not during battles.Mahatara and Thapa were among 200 conflict victims who came to Kathmandu this week on the 12th anniversary of the peace accord seeking truth, justice, reparations, and a guarantee of non-recurrence. They have issued a charter, pressing the government to reboot the lingering transitional justice process. Bhagi Ram Chaudhary of Conflict Victims’ Common Platform says: “We want the government to give the process a fresh start, involving us and respecting international norms.” Transitional justice has been the most neglected component of the peace process. After the peace accord of 2006, political leaders were preoccupied with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12499#.W_aXqTgzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">demobilising and disarming the guerrillas</a>, reintegrating them into the Nepal Army, and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/09/20/peoples-constitution/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">writing the new Constitution</a>. They <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/justice-delayed-justice-denied-transitional-justice,3556" target="_blank" rel="noopener">delayed investigating war crimes</a>, waiting for victims to tire out and give up. It took the government a decade to even form the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and Commission on Investigation of Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP). Conflict victims questioned the legitimacy and intention of these bodies from the beginning, arguing that a mechanism led by political appointees would serve the perpetrators, and not victims. Chaudhary told us: “As we predicted, the TRC and the CIEDP have failed. We now need to dismantle them, and form a new mechanism that involves conflict victims and civil society.”He adds: “So far, we have looked at transitional justice just as a technical issue. It should be dealt with as a political problem. We need to forge a political consensus to resolve it.” Civil society leaders, human rights activists and conflict victims began discussing the need for a new mechanism, also owned by political leaders allegedly involved in war-time atrocities, after <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/just-not-justice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the controversial draft of the new TRC law</a> was out. The draft bill, if passed, will allow perpetrators to wash their hands of blood by doing time in open jails or community service.Conflict victims say it is not just the content of the TRC bill that is problematic but also the process of drafting it. But won’t the new mechanism settle conflict-era cases by just doling out compensation to victims and granting amnesty to perpetrators? Chaudhary answers: “We will not allow amnesty for those involved in gross human rights violations.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/just-not-justice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Just not justice</a>, Om Astha Rai<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/justice-delayed-justice-denied-transitional-justice,3556" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Justice delayed is justice denied</a>, Editorial

Peace on a war footing

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692eb69c7e80680e03c068jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/>Books are scattered around in a dark room, an earthen pot lies shattered to pieces, and clothes litter the floor. The sound of crickets chirping and a woman sobbing add to the eerie atmosphere. This is an installation at Nepal Art Council, recreating the room of a woman who was forcibly detained and raped by the security forces during the 1996-2006 war.It is part of an exhibition titled Memory, Truth, and Justice organised by Voices of Women Media and Conflict Victims Common Platform, which shares stories of more than 100 victims from both sides of the conflict. Some are audio-visual testimonies, there are photographs while others are artistic re-creations.“We wanted to bring these stories out because we realised that everyone was forgetting the war,” explains project manager Bikkil Sthapit. “The government and leaders are not doing anything. And even for family members of those killed and disappeared, memories are fading. Justice is being forgotten. We wanted to record these memories before they are totally gone, inform the public and advocate for justice.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/No-justice-yet-for-the-victims-of-peoples-war,2984" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“How many times do we need to share our story?”,</a> Seulki Lee<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/just-not-justice/">Just not justice</a>, Om Astha Rai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10616#.W7X4vnszbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The ten year war</a> cost 17,886 lives, 1,530 were forcibly disappeared, 8,191 were maimed, millions were displaced. The conflict left deep physical and psychological scars on individuals, families and society. Like most wars, many of the victims were civilians. Innocent bystanders lost their limbs in bus bombs, girls and women were subjected to sexual violence, suspects were tortured, former child soldiers sacrificed their childhood and are now abandoned.Conflict victims and family members have lent items they have preserved lovingly: a shirt bought from first salary, letters smuggled in with noodle packets. These items present victims’ stories with an urgency and immediacy that is lacking in the numbing statistics of war. The first person accounts, often graphic and intense, can be very hard to watch and listen to.“The exhibition reminds us that we should be ashamed that so little has been done for the justice of conflict victims,” says Prakash Wasti of the National Human Rights Commission. “These issues do not belong to the 100 people whose stories are represented here, but to the whole country.”Memory, Truth, and JusticeNepal Art Council Until 6 OctoberRead also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/its-all-in-the-mind/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's all in the mind</a>, Sonia Awale<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-art-of-healing/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The art of healing</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<h2>Sharmila Chaudhary, Dang​</h2> Sharmila is the mother of Jagi Ram Chaudhary, a Kamaiya who was disappeared at the age of 17."I still put some food for my son in this plate before I eat any meal. Though he was disappeared 16 years ago, I still hope that one day he will come back to eat what I serve."Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/doors-closed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Doors closed</a>, Om Astha Rai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/children-of-maoist-conflict-in-nepal,1694" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Children of war,</a> Kunda Dixit<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692eb99c7e80680e03c069jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="636"><h2>Shova Rayamajhi, Nuwakot</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692ebd9c7e80680e03c06ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692ec09c7e80680e03c06bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692ec39c7e80680e03c06cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="288">Shova Rayamajhi was 11 when she was given a gun to fight for a cause she did not understand. After the war, the UN Mission to Nepal (UNMIN) verified a total of 4,008 minors and ‘disqualified’ them from compensation. She missed out on education, even though she fought for the rights of the oppressed. She is now an activist demanding rights for child soldiers like her. The government had earmarked Rs 200,000 for child soldiers so they could reassimilate into society. A writ petition was filed against the decision which the Court stayed.Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/ex-minor-ex-maoists">Ex-minor ex-Maoist</a>, Om Astha Rai<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692ec49c7e80680e03c06djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5472" height="3648"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Sandip Pun, Rukum</h2>Sandip's parents, Surya Prakash Pun and Parampara Gautam, were Maoists and were killed by the army. Parampara wrote this in her diary the day she left home. Sandip has treasured the diaries, but has never turned the pages to read them himself.The day I left my son behind(My son), a piece of heart holds me close.I tell him I am going to bring him some grapes. Son, I give him a loving kiss on the cheek and tell him I am leaving.On the way my mind and body are both unwell. My mind is not in its place. How can I leave the little one behind and travel to village after village. All these things trouble my heart.The bus continued at its speed. I was feeling dizzy. My head was aching. I do not feel like eating anything.When I see bunches of grapes somewhere. Suddenly I am reminded of my son and my heart was troubled anew.It’s ok, I hope my son lives. One day we will surely meet.- 1999/ 6/ 18, Paru<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692ec89c7e80680e03c06ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="639"><h2>Krishna Ghising, Dolakha</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171112/63692ecc9c7e80680e03c06fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080">Even today, I get scared every time I hear a certain kind of music. There was music playing when I gained consciousness after 19 days in a coma. It was a radio jingle which played during intervals of news bulletins of Radio Nepal.I had gone to my village to make my passport with a dream of going to Korea. On the way back to Kathmandu, our bus was moving slowly when there was an explosion. Some passengers died on the spot, the injured were taken to hospital. I survived, but over half my body was paralysed because of a spinal injury. All my dreams were shattered.I left the hospital in a wheelchair after nine months. It was a difficult time. When I was in the ambulance, I felt like I was carrying my own corpse.I wanted make my son a famous person one day. The conflict made me incapable of looking after myself, who cannot move without the help of others.Perhaps, it would not have been so much pain if I was born disabled. But we were made disabled. It is the duty of the state to take care of us. Instead, they humiliate us. I have spent 15 years in a wheelchair now. This is my second life. I don’t know how long this one will last.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519">Post-conflict stress syndrome</a>, Taylor Caldwell<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-spark-that-lit-the-Maoist-revolution,2870"> </a><a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-spark-that-lit-the-Maoist-revolution,2870">What the people think about the ‘People’s War</a>’, Seulki Lee

Remembering not to forget the people's war

<h2>The conflict and earthquake added to Nepal’s hidden epidemic of mental disorder</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710114/6368ca479c7e80680e02f2fejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>MEMORIES: Nani Maiya Prajapati was serving lunch to her husband, daughter, son-in law and two grandchildren when the earthquake struck three years ago. She survived, but the rest of her family did not. The 2015 tragedy left mental scars on thousands of survivors like her that will take time to heal. ROJITA ADHIKARI</figcaption></figure><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stigma-and-silence-mental-health-nepal,3486">One-third of Nepalis</a> were already suffering some form of psychiatric disorder, but mental health experts say the numbers <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519">went up significantly during the Maoist conflict</a> and rose again after the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/">2015 earthquake</a>.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710114/6368ca4a9c7e80680e02f2ffjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="130" height="101">Besides existing psychological disorders in the general population, there are now torture victims, child soldiers, combatants with post-traumatic stress disorders (PTSD), <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Mental-cost-of-migration,3159">mistreated migrant workers</a>, and lately earthquake survivors who had narrow escapes or lost family members.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=4261&amp;preview=true">Time heals</a>, Prabin DhungelArun Bhattarai was lying down for a nap that Saturday three years ago when a deep underground rumble followed by a big jolt woke him up. His house in Dhading collapsed, and his family became earthquake refugees in Kathmandu. Bhattarai, now 46, suffered from insomnia and anxiety attacks for months afterwards. The trauma drove him to drink, but today after treatment he has beaten his alcoholism.“A lot of people suffered from anxiety, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/the-republic-of-insomnia,3311">post-traumatic stress disorder</a> and depression following trauma and bereavement during the earthquake, some even attempted suicide,” says mental health specialist Kapil Dev Upadhyay. “The disaster aggravated the psychosocial condition of many patients who were already recovering.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710114/6368ca4b9c7e80680e02f300jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="715"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="https://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/Hidden-Aftershocks_Summary-Report.pdf">A survey</a> of earthquake-affected districts of Rasuwa, Nuwakot and Makwanpur for the Nepal Red Cross Society, conducted by the group Transcultural Psychosocial Organisation (TPO),  showed that nearly 40% of respondents suffered from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/all-in-mind/the-silent-scream-depression-is-common-but-only-few-get-treatment,588">depression</a> and anxiety for a year-and-half after the earthquake. Another 22% said they had suicidal thoughts, and a quarter had taken to drinking heavily. More women than men were affected by the symptoms (see chart).Sunita KC was out for a Saturday walk with her husband at Kathmandu Darbar Square when nearby <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Monumental-loss,2215">monuments swayed and collapsed</a> in clouds of dust. The 23-year-old was plagued with nightmares and lost the will to live. She got better after medication, but three years later her symptoms have returned. This week KC was in a clinic in Kathmandu with her family for consultation where she was diagnosed with severe depression.At the Psychiatric Department of Teaching Hospital, Rishav Koirala estimates that every family has at least one member afflicted with some form of mental illness after the earthquake.“In a way, the earthquake was a blessing in disguise because it raised public awareness about mental health and partially removed the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14138#.WthaP26FPIU">stigma</a>. The government was also forced to address mental healthcare.”Indeed, the government trained MBBS doctors to provide psychiatric help to survivors in the primary health care systems and district hospitals. Nepal’s Mental Health Policy, adopted in 1997 but rarely implemented, is finally being revised.At an <a href="http://mentalhealthconferencenepal.com/programme/">international conference on mental health in Kathmandu</a> in February, the government pledged to prioritise mental health, increase investment for a mental health focal unit in each provincial health ministry, and to recognise alcohol and substance abuse as mental health problems.“School level psychological education can help change societal attitudes towards mental disorders, and since Nepalis are resilient and family-oriented there is a support system,” says psychiatrist Namrata Pradhan at Model Hospital.Nepal has one of the lowest patients to psychiatrists ratios in the world. In addition, society has entrenched stigma about ‘mad’ people who are often ostracised, often by family members. Even before the earthquake, patients were left to fend for themselves.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710114/6368ca4d9c7e80680e02f301jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="878" height="516"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rabi Shakya, professor of psychiatry at the Patan Academy of Health Sciences agrees that the public is more aware of mental disorders after the earthquake. “There has been a visible change in terms of awareness and general acceptance level regarding mental health, and as a result patients are coming out and seeking treatment,” he told Nepali Times this week.Post-earthquake studies have shown higher rates of psychiatric disorders, but the major limitation is the lack of a baseline study. The Nepal Health Research Council is now preparing a nationwide mental health survey later this year to help develop a longterm plan to upgrade psychiatric care.Says mental health activist and former patient Jagannath Lamichanne: “We need public awareness and acceptance so that people are comfortable with sharing their experiences, and that can be the most powerful tool for prevention.”Name of patients have been changed.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stigma-and-silence-mental-health-nepal,3486">Stigma and silence</a>,  Ketan Dulal<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/the-republic-of-insomnia,3311">The republic of insomnia</a>,  Editorial<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519">Post-conflict stress syndrome</a>,  Taylor Caldwell<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/down-and-out,3158">Down and Out</a>,  Smriti Basnet

Sonia Awale

It’s all in the mind

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710114/6368ca509c7e80680e02f302jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="844"/><figcaption>Pic: Gopen Rai</figcaption></figure>Immediately after <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/">the earthquake</a>, there was a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/the-republic-of-insomnia,3311">sudden surge of patients with mental disorders</a> in Kathmandu’s psychiatric clinics.But since 2016, records at the Nepal Mental Hospital and Bir Hospital show a sharp decrease in the number of patients with post-traumatic stress disorders. Doctors say the reason is that most patients with earthquake-related psychosocial issues received medication, counselling and support from families in the last three years.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710114/6368ca539c7e80680e02f303jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="130" height="101">Even so, some survivors still have anxiety attacks during an aftershock or when they hear loud noises. Pukar Gautam was a college student who found himself in the narrow alleys of Patan when the earthquake struck.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=4260&amp;preview=true">All in the mind</a>, Sonia Awale“I was terrified and took cover below a sturdy beam,” Gautam remembers. He was traumatised for months afterwards, and even today feels claustrophobic in narrow, crowded alleys.Many traumatised children had to be counselled when schools reopened two months after the earthquake in 2015. They could not concentrate on their studies, had difficulty sleeping and looked distracted.Niroj Mali is a teacher at Chantal Mauduit Academy in Taukhel, and remembers students were still in shock when they came back to school. Instead of regular classes he had the children sing, dance and watch cartoons. “They are doing well now, the earthquake seems like a bad dream,” Mali says.Sandeep Bista, 32, works for the Red Cross and was trapped in a room in Bhaisepati with a visiting aunt when the earthquake struck. He was treated for persistent anxiety, and feels much better now. But his aunt suffers relapses and has to regularly visit the district hospital in Ramechhap.Chief Psychiatrist Lata Shrestha at the Nepal Mental Hospital confirms that the number of patients with psychological trauma has declined to levels before the earthquake. “I have seen more people now seeking psychological help and counselling for trauma and this is a positive side-effect of the earthquake,” she says.Nawal Jha was posted to hospitals in earthquake affected districts and remembers treating many survivors with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/down-and-out,3158">mental disorders</a>. Younger patients who had seen much death and destruction were even <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/all-in-mind/suicide-after-earthquake,496">suicidal</a>, he remembers.Purnima Lama was in a building in Bungamati and suffered a fracture when the house she was in collapsed. She needed medical treatment, but was reluctant to seek psychological counselling. “I was scared <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stigma-and-silence-mental-health-nepal,3486">others would think I was mad</a>,” she says, recalling how a relative was ostracised from her village in Dhading after she was mentally traumatised after a brother was killed during the conflict.Psychiatrist Basu Dev Karki also says societal attitudes towards mental disorders are changing: “People now look at mental health at par with other medical conditions. That is a positive step in ensuring the mental wellbeing of the people.”Some names have been altered.  Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stigma-and-silence-mental-health-nepal,3486">Stigma and silence</a>,  Ketan Dulal<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/the-republic-of-insomnia,3311">The republic of insomnia</a>,  Editorial<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519">Post-conflict stress syndrome</a>,  Taylor Caldwell<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/down-and-out,3158">Down and Out</a>,  Smriti Basnet

Time heals

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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