<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba77e9c7e80680e073787jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1728" height="1296"/><figcaption>A woman gets Sayana Press suring the lockdown. Photo: IPAS NEPAL</figcaption></figure>For the past two decades, Basanti Paudel, 41, of Nawalpur had always used Depo-Provera to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/no-conceivable-reason-for-unwanted-pregnancies/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">prevent unwanted pregnancies</a>  Then last year, she was given a new choice: Sayana Press.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-far-from-hitting-contraceptive-target/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sayana Press</a>, a successor to Depo-Provera, was introduced last year in  Nawalparasi and Sindhuli and is a better option because it has a smaller dosage, comes with a small needle, can be stored at room temperature and is injected sub-cutaneously just under the skin rather than in the muscles, making it less painful. Sayana can also be self-injected at home and lasts for three months just like Depo-Provera.Basanti Paudel immediately took to the new contraceptive. “It is a much better, but I worry about its availability during the lockdown, and that I may have to go back to using Depo-Provera,” she says.Pabitra Acharya, 42, of the same neighbourhood also started using Sayana Press after her husband who was working in India came back home following Covid-19 pandemic. She would also like to continue using the injection but is also worried about its availability.“Once we decide on the contraceptive best for us, we should be able to access it each time. Using different methods affects our health,” Acharya says.Both women were at the Rajahar Health Post in Nawalpur this week to express their concern about availability. At the health post, Dev Bahadur Dahal  Nawalpur assured them that they would not have to go back to using Depo Provera.“The drug used in Sayana Press and Depo-Provera is the same, the only difference is the dose, which is 30% lower. We thought why not go for an option that has lower drug but is just as effective and not as painful,” says Lhamo Y Sherpa of Ipas Nepal, adding that depending on the results in the two districts, the new contraceptive would be scaled up to the rest of the country.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/implant-service-providers-take-contraception-to-nepals-poor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s contraceptive prevalence</a> rate at 53% is a dramatic improvement from 20 years ago, but it is still a long way from the government’s target of 75% contraceptive prevalence by 2030.Furthermore, the use of modern family planning methods has plateaued since 2006 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-males-and-population-decline/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">due to labour migration</a>. But the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/workers-return-to-jobless-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">return of hundreds of thousands of migrant workers from India</a> and the Gulf following the Covid-19 pandemic is leading to an increase in the demand of contraceptives. Which is why there is a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/baby-boom-expected-after-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">fear of shortages</a>  and also a break in the supply chain because of the lockdowns.According to the Nepal Demographic and Health Survey (NDHS) 2016, there is a 24% unmet need for family planning in Nepal — a quarter of women who need contraceptives are not using them.Sayana Press offers a new and easy to use contraceptive that can help meet the country’s unmet needs for family planning. It also gives women agency, especially because their husbands often refuse to use condoms.The new birth control device is already popular with women in Nawalparasi and Sindhuli districts and very few users have complained of side effects normally associated with contraceptives. In fact, users have reported fewer reproductive health complications.“For 20 years, I never got my periods regularly, once I did not have them for two years, and had to resort to medications to force my period,” says Basanti Paudel. “Since using Sayana, it has become more regular. It evevn seems to have brought down my blood pressure, and I don’t have nausea anymore.”Dilmaya Pariyar, 29, has been using contraceptives for 12 years and once every three months she needed to go to a health post to get a Depo-Provera injection, which was always followed by a week of pain in her arms, preventing her from working.“With Sayana Press, I haven’t had any pains. In fact, this has been the most suitable contraceptive for me so far,” she says. The other advantage is that Sayana Press can be injected at home with some basic training.There are some women who have complained of excessive bleeding for up to seven days after switching to Sayana Press, but according to a survey, the new contraceptive appears to have been well accepted in the trials which are conducted by the reproductive health agency Ipas Nepal and the Ministry of Health and Population (MoH) with financial support from the UK’s Department for International Development (DFID). Sayana Press is already used in 40 European countries.Of 1,112 women from 17-49 years of age who participated in the Ipas Nepal comparative study, 12% said they preferred Sayana Press to Depo-Provera. Participants also found the fact that it was self-injectible quite appealing.Says Bhim Singha Tinkaro, head of Family Welfare Division in the Health Ministry: “Given the positive results so far, Sayana Press can now be expanded to other parts of the country, and the ministry is expected to make a decision soon.”

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

New contraceptive for increased lockdown demand

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58c19c7e80680e054852jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>WELCOME TO THE WORLD: A child sleeps in a hammock while its parents work in a workshop making idols for the Dasain festival in Kupondol. Photo: GOPEN RAI</figcaption></figure>Giving birth is a life or death issue in Nepal. Even though the maternal mortality rate dropped from 1,000 per 100,000 live births 40 years ago to 239 today, inadequate birthing facilities is still a problem. But attention is now also shifting to preventing pregnancies.There is a big <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/implant-service-providers-take-contraception-to-nepals-poor/">unmet need for contraceptives</a>: nearly a quarter of women surveyed nationwide in 2016 said they were not using birth control, even if they need it. Social stigma, patriarchy, ignorance and lack of access were reasons.Nepal’s contraceptive prevalence rate is 52%, but in remote Bajura it is only 34%. Although progress is being made, we are still a long way from the government’s target of raising the rate to 75% by 2030.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33714&amp;preview_nonce=033aa12640&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal far from hitting contraceptive target,</a> Sewa BhattaraiAs our reports in this edition from Bajura and Chitwan show, there are cultural hurdles. With <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-males-and-population-decline/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">husbands away working for long periods</a>, their wives are reluctant to use contraceptives because of what others will say. The result: women suffer unwanted pregnancies, <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/globe-rallies-to-aid-nepals-women,3841" target="_blank" rel="noopener">unsafe abortions</a> and ultimately struggle to take care of large families.Almost every woman who visited a hospital in Bajura on a busy day last month had the same story: their husbands were away and they did not use birth control. Some were suffering from botched abortions.More than 800 abortion cases were registered in Bajura last year. Just one hospital in Achham terminated more than 600 pregnancies in one year. Meanwhile, Nepal’s total fertility rate has dropped from 6 in 1960 to near-replacement level at 2.05 today, and the country’s population growth rate is also down from 2.5% in 1990 to 1.1% today. Surveys in Province 2 and Far-western Province have shown a clear correlation between unwanted pregnancies, child marriage and fertility in regions with entrenched patriarchy.Among Nepalis, 21% use injectable contraceptives, 10% are on pills, 10% use condoms, 8% have IUDs and only 3% have implants. Depo-Provera was among the most used injectables, but it was difficult to administer and painful. Now, the government, with donor support, is field-testing in Nawalpur and Sindhuli a lower-dose injectable called Sayana Press, which could make contraceptives more accessible to women.Interventions like these, the government hopes, will reduce unwanted pregnancies, thus preventing unsafe abortions and reducing the number of women who have to take care of larger families.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Comment/mothers-in-Nepal-still-dying-at-childbirth,1007" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Complications during pregnancy or at childbirth</a> are the leading causes of death among girls aged 15-19 in low-income countries like Nepal. Unwanted pregnancies also hamper women’s education and economic independence, and impact their family life, fuelling an intergenerational cycle of poverty and poor health.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/implant-service-providers-take-contraception-to-nepals-poor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Implant service providers take contraception to Nepal's poor</a>, Rojita Adhikari

Born in Nepal

https://youtu.be/VaSUaALct0oParvati Thapa, 39, looks lost as she wanders into the district hospital in this isolated northwestern corner of Nepal. She and her husband have walked a whole day to get here, and they just found out she is 19 weeks pregnant.Thapa already has three children, and after they were born she lost four sons one after another. After her menstruation stopped, she suspected menopause but now knows she is pregnant for the eighth time.“My husband is away for months at a time, tending cattle in the mountains. Why should I use <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/implant-service-providers-take-contraception-to-nepals-poor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">family planning</a> when we meet so rarely?” asks Thapa, who looks much older than her age.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33648&amp;preview_nonce=5c7e9df60a&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Born in Nepal</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33648&amp;preview_nonce=5c7e9df60a&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> </a>Like most women in the remote mountains, Thapa has never used contraceptives. <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-males-and-population-decline/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Doing so carries a stigma for married women with migrant husbands</a>, and there are misconceptions about the different methods available. The result is that women suffer unwanted pregnancies, <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/globe-rallies-to-aid-nepals-women,3841" target="_blank" rel="noopener">unsafe abortions</a> and end up with large families they are  unable to take care of.Nepal’s contraceptive prevalence rate is 53%, but in Bajura it is only 34%. Although this is a dramatic improvement from 20 years ago, it is still a long way from the government’s target of 75% contraceptive prevalence by 2030. The fact that the use of modern family planning methods has plateaued since 2006 points to futher deterrences.“The family planning rate is really low in Bajura because a lot of the men migrate to India for work,” says nurse Dhankala Khadka at Bajura District Hospital. “If the husband is away and the wife wants to use birth control, she is often questioned about fidelity and may be ostracised by her community. Even husbands do not support them.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58de9c7e80680e054862jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="970"/><figcaption>Parvati Thapa went to Bajura district hospital suspecting menopause, but found out it was her eighth pregnancy. Photo: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Almost every woman who visited nurse Khadka on a busy day last month had the same story: their husbands were away and they did not use birth control.There were 804 abortions in Bajura in the past year, which Rohit Giri of Bajura District Hospital says is very high: “Most who come to us are married women with children, and the abortions are due to the lack of birth control, which leads to unwanted pregnancies.”<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.15px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">In Bayalpata Hospital</a> in neighbouring Achham district, the story is much the same — it performed 660 abortions in the past year. Bhawana Rawal, 33, has had two abortions at the hospital in the past five years and admits she does not used birth control.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-males-and-population-decline/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Migrating males and population decline</a>, Om Astha Rai“I already have two children, and do not need any more, but I got pregnant twice by accident,” she says. “I still do not want to use contraceptives in future.” Rawal did try a Depo-Provera injection once but says it made her bleed too much. Other women have the same complaint. For those who do not want to use a permanent contraception, many felt pills were a hassle to acquire and take every day, and IUDs hurt.“Unwanted pregnancies often lead to anaemia because women lose so much blood,” says Kalawati Setthi, a nurse at Bayalpata Hospital. Nearly 40% of women in Far-western Nepal were found in a survey to be anaemic — most of them pregnant and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/back-to-the-nipple-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">breastfeeding</a>.The government has put up posters in rural hospitals to encourage contraceptive use but at this rate, it is unlikely that the target of 75% contraceptive use will be reached.<h2>Demand, but no supply</h2>According to the Nepal Demographic and Health Survey (NDHS) 2016, there is a 24% unmet need for family planning in Nepal — a quarter of women who need contraceptives are not using them. A report by Population Services international (PSI) Nepal found that unmarried youth aged 15-24 and married women aged 20-24 are the groups that use contraceptives the least.Married women like Parvati Thapa at a clinic in Bajura last month (left), normally tended to use contraceptives after their first child, and exposure to information about family planning through health workers and current users of family planning, as well as talking about it with husbands or relatives.Unmarried youth were likely to discuss family planning only with their sexual partners and most used condoms over other methods, which were bought and kept by the male partner. In contrast, married women visited health facilities themselves and chose the type of method they wanted.Unmarried youth, especially adolescents, had a higher unmet need and were more vulnerable to stigma associated with family planning. The report argues that the term ‘family planning’ only applies to married women and their plan to have children, whereas there are many contraceptive users who have no intention of having children, or use contraceptives to prevent sexually-transmitted diseases (STDs).Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/child-marriage-in-nepal-eloped-at-13-mother-by-17/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Child marriage in Nepal, eloped at 13, mother by 17</a>, Sewa BhattaraiWhen a woman goes to a public health facility for contraceptives, a register is filled out, which includes a column for ‘husband’s name’, which is another deterrent for unmarried women. Though the husband’s name is optional, there is no column for the wife’s name when it comes to male contraceptives like condoms or a vasectomy.A report by the UN Population Fund (UNFPA) about sexual and reproductive health says complications in pregnancy and childbirth are the leading cause of death among girls aged 15-19 in low-income countries like Nepal. Unwanted pregnancies also hamper women’s education and economic independence, and impact their family life, fuelling an intergenerational cycle of poverty and poor health.<h2>More choice for family planning</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58e19c7e80680e054863jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1029"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Although Nepal’s contraceptive prevalence rate has increased dramatically, from 7% in 1981 to nearly 60% today, social taboos, patriarchy and unavailability mean that many women still do not have access to birth control.It usually falls on women to take the initiative, since many men refuse to use condoms or get a vasectomy. Popular contraceptives used to be the pill or Depo-Provera, an injectable that needs refrigeration and must be taken at a clinic, but the dosage is high and the injection painful.Now, women like Shanti Adhikari, 43, in Chitwan, (pictured, right) who have always used Depo-provera for short-term contraception, have a new choice: Sayana Press.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/implant-service-providers-take-contraception-to-nepals-poor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Implant service providers take contraception to Nepal's poor</a>, Rojita Adhikari<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58e49c7e80680e054864jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="524" height="531">Adhikari’s husband, who works as a security guard in India, will be coming home for Dasain, so she is at the health post in Nawalpur for her Depo-Provera progesterone hormone injection, which prevents pregnancy for three months.But auxiliary nurse midwife Sharada Rimal (pictured, left) tells her about Sayana Press. Its advantages over Depo-Provera are that it comes with its own small needle, the dosage is much smaller, it is less painful and can be self-injected.“Everyone in my neighbourhood comes to this health post for contraceptives, but no one told me about this new injection. The needle looks much smaller, I think I will go with this one,” says Adhikari, 43, as Rimal proceeded to inject her in the thigh.Sayana Press, a successor to Depo-Provera, is being launched in Nepal in two districts: Nawalpur and Sindhuli, by the reproductive health agency Ipas Nepal in coordination with the UK’s Department for International Development (DFID) and the Ministry of Health and Population (MoH). The drug has already been tried and approved, and is available for use in 40 European countries.What sets Sayana apart from Depo-Provera is the smaller dosage (104 mg compared to 150), it comes with its own needle, it can be stored at room temperature and is injected sub-cutaneously (just under the skin), rather than in the muscles like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-the-curse-of-the-contraceptive,493" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Depo-Provera</a>.Injectable contraceptives are the most popular reversible contraceptive among women, for a variety of reasons. Adhikari says she does not like pills because she has to remember to take them every day, and, because of her age, she wants to be discreet about using them.While most other methods, like IUCDs, implants, condoms and pills, are visible and can be discovered by others, an injection leaves no traces. 52% married couples use contraceptives in Nepal: 8.9% use injectables, 4.6% are on pills, 4.2% use condoms, 1.4% use IUDs and only 3.3% use implants. 9.8% use other traditional methods. Some have gone for permanent contraception, with 14.7% preferring female Sterilization and 5.5% male Sterilization.“Depo-Provera has been in use for 50 years, but it was so popular and effective not much further research was done on it,” explains Lhamo Yangchen Sherpa of Ipas. “But WHO studies found that a much lower dosage was enough.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58e69c7e80680e054865jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="478" height="531">Health workers like Rimal confirm that Sayana Press is much easier to inject, more portable and less painful. Though it is self-injectable in some countries, in Nepal, where it has been undergoing trials in 14 health facilities of Nawalpur and Sindhuli since 5 September, it will only be administered by health professionals.Bhim Singh Tinkari of the MoH Family Welfare Division says that since 7% of pregnant women still die from unsafe abortions, making contraceptives easily accessible can save lives. Binod Bindu Sharma of the MoH links contraceptives to women’s choice and empowerment. “The availability of contraceptives is important for women’s rights, since it lets women choose when and how many children to have,” says Sharma, adding that the ministry is making Sayana Press available for free in health facilities.Lisa Honan, head of DFID Nepal, links contraceptives with women’s economic potential, adding that the country can make better use of women in the workforce if they have better choices of contraceptives. “DFID is committed to providing Sayana in any volume in Nepal until 2022 through UNFPA (the UN Population Fund), and would help Nepal scale it up all over the country if the results of the feasibility study are positive.”

Nepal far from hitting contraceptive target

<h2>A Nepali Times survey shows adolescents want to know more about reproductive health, but don’t have anyone to turn to</h2>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eybD2-yOuc8&amp;feature=youtu.beAlthough Nepal has shown <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/09/22/nepals-work-in-maternal-health-noticed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">remarkable progress</a> in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/people-politics-placentas-child-delivery-complications,3922" target="_blank" rel="noopener">child and maternal health</a>, somehow not as much attention is paid to the needs of adolescents in the 10-19 age group who make up a quarter of Nepal’s population.Adolescence is a critical developmental transition from childhood to adulthood in which an individual goes through changes at all levels: physical, emotional, psychological and social. These changes bring with them special health needs and risks.Yet, the specific problems of this age group are overlooked by health care providers and the government. Surveys have shown that school-going adolescents do not get enough answers to questions about reproductive health, <a href="ttps://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-males-and-population-decline/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">contraceptive use</a>, sexually-transmitted diseases. Rarely do they get this information from parents, either.“I have irregular <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Girl-talk-period,2377" target="_blank" rel="noopener">periods</a>, and my gynaecologist just gave me medicines without explaining what was wrong. After I stopped taking them, I am irregular again, but I don’t want to keep taking medicines. I don’t know what to do, who am I supposed to ask?” said 16-year-old Nisha Thapa who often misses school because of her condition.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110711110/6368d7319c7e80680e0314cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="400"/>All the girls interviewed for a recent Nepali Times focus group said it would have been much easier if there was a separate health facility for adolescents where they would feel comfortable and open to share problems, without feeling rushed or judged. Both girls and boys in the survey also said their schools did not explain puberty and reproductive health adequately."Our level of understanding is book-based. We know the definitions and basic concepts, but I cannot really apply that in real life," said 17-year-old Renu Adhikari. "I know what menstruation is, but I don’t know what is actually happening inside my body. I don’t know what causes cramps and how to ease it."Even in Kathmandu, there isn’t any separate department for adolescents in hospitals or health posts. Teenagers are directed to adult doctors where they may be too shy to express what is happening to them. Unsatisfactory treatment and lack of privacy are other fears.Many of the teenagers will be voting-age in less than ten years, and preparing them for life’s struggles should be a critical part of the education they get. But because of the lack of guidance from parents and teachers, they turn to peers or the internet for information, both of which give inadequate or inaccurate information.All this leads to mental stress and anxiety in many adolescents. A survey showed that one in every five teens in Nepal suffers from some sort of mental disorder, and suicide is the leading cause of death among 15-19 year olds worldwide. Cultivating a safe and non-judgemental environment for adolescents is therefore of key importance, health experts say.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110711110/6368d7339c7e80680e0314cbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="575" height="563">Investment in adolescents can be cost-effective, too. For example, safe motherhood is a top priority in Nepal’s public health. And if adolescent health had been given more importance, girls and boys would have had a more comprehensive understanding of reproduction – leading to fewer complications later in life.Surveys have shown that many Nepali women are unaware that giving birth before age 20 is not safe. Adolescent reproductive health education is urgent in a country where <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/child-marriage-in-Nepal,3863" target="_blank" rel="noopener">more than half of women are married by age 18</a>. Pregnancy related complications is the number one cause of death among girls aged 15-19 in Nepal.The Nepali Times survey of boys and girls aged 14-19 showed girls were mostly concerned about abdominal and body pain during menstruation, or irregular periods. (See box) For boys it was mainly wet dreams and sexually-transmitted diseases, especially HIV/AIDS.Sita Limbu, 19, is training to become a flight attendant. She has bad cramps and excessive bleeding. Instead of going to the gynaecologist, she takes pain killers.  Like many others, she doesn’t know that sedatives are not the answer to painful periods.Although 24-year-old Bina Gurung is not an adolescent anymore, she still has doubts about reproductive health: "I talk to my friends and older cousins, or go to Google to look up information, but I still cannot say that I know the pros and cons of various contraception methods. We never really had in-depth lessons in school, and we never spoke about it at home."The Nepal government developed a National Adolescent Health and Development Strategy in 2000 and revised it in 2015. In 2011, a National ASRH (Adolescent Sexual Reproductive Health) Program Implementation Guidelines, and a National ASRH Communication Strategy was introduced. Adolescent health was also given priority in the National Health Policy 2014.So Nepal seems to be well-placed in terms of plans and guidelines, but there are big gaps in  implementation. The Family Health Division has set up over 1,000 Adolescent Friendly Service (AFS) centres throughout the country, with at least 13 in each district. But only 56 are certified. In a recent visit, one of the clinics in Kathmandu was understaffed and there was not enough information to the public, especially adolescents, about where it was located. None of the adolescents or school teachers interviewed for this article knew about the government AFS centres, or of any counselling organisation.Birendra Pradhan at UNICEF says: "There are no controlled mechanisms for adolescent health care in urban areas. We need a multi-sectoral and coordinated effort. The government and development partners need to work closely."<h2>The silence</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110711110/6368d7359c7e80680e0314ccjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Most girls, even in Kathmandu Valley, do not know much about <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/removing-menstrual-shame,4148" target="_blank" rel="noopener">menstruation</a> prior to getting it. Nirvani Sharma, a teacher at Uma Maheswor School in Lalitpur, had to send a Grade 6 student home after she came to school without wearing a sanitary pad when her periods started.“This situation could have been easily avoided if her parents had told her about periods,” Sharma said. Many school girls miss classes because of lack of awareness, or social and physical discomfort during menstruation. Some even drop out of school.Pranisha Adhikari, 17, says that although she is comfortable talking about most things, learning about menstruation in school wasn’t easy, mainly because of the attitude of boys in her class.“It is important for boys to also take interest in learning about <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19199#.WwvYTO6FO73" target="_blank" rel="noopener">menstruation</a>, so that they are aware of what is happening to their classmates, instead of making it more uncomfortable for us,” Adhikari said.This natural aspect of reproductive health is still largely viewed as something negative, shameful, dirty and embarrassing. All the adolescent girls interviewed for this story said that they were not satisfied with their knowledge of menstruation, and there was a lot they were still confused about. How to deal with period cramps, for example, was the top question everyone had. The second concerned menstrual hygiene.They suggested that since students spend so much time every day in school, it would be most effective if schools had regular programs discussing these issues, normalising the talk and attitude towards menstruation.Says Pranisha Adhikari, “What we learn through textbooks is helpful, but it still doesn’t equip us to deal with real life situations. For example menstrual hygiene is not discussed in depth, it is too important a matter for us not to know much about it. ”Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/removing-menstrual-shame,4148" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Removing menstrual shame</a>, Clara Hare-Grogg<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19199#.WwvYTO6FO73" target="_blank" rel="noopener">That time of the month</a>, Rubeena D Shrestha<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Girl-talk-period,2377" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Girl talk: period</a>, Anjana Rajbhandari

Let's talk about it

It was 30 years ago this month that investment into ‘Baby Arun’, the 201MW first phase of the run-of-river Arun III project, was brought to a screeching halt when the World Bank officially withdrew its support. This brought about profound and fundamental changes in the way Nepal’s power sector subsequently developed. Nepalis suffered debilitating power outages between 2008-2016 due to shortages attributable to the cancellation. At the same time, the gap left by Baby Arun was filled by private sector investment in ways that were not obvious in 1995. It took 30 years, but in many ways Nepal’s power sector is more healthy today than it has ever been, and likely better than if the project was built as planned. At a projected budget of $1.08 billion, Baby Arun would have cost the equivalent of Nepal’s entire annual government expenditure in 1995. It was to be funded by concessional grants and loans from multilateral and bilateral funders, including the World Bank, Asian Development Bank (ADB), KfW, and investment by the government itself. At the time, Nepal’s total electricity generation capacity was only 230MW, and the trajectory of the power sector changed dramatically following the cancellation. In the past 30 years, $5.4 billion has been invested in the power sector led by private investors, and much of it from domestic banks and pension funds (table, right).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="984" height="521" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Nearly 70% of the new megawatts generated were by private independent power producers (IPP) in the past 30 years, while the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) and its subsidiary companies added 30% of new capacity. Almost 80% of total debt financing came from domestic banks and employee retirement funds. International assistance for power generation dropped dramatically over this time, accounting for only about 15% of investment. Before 1995 new power projects used to be entirely dependent on foreign aid. Since 1995, 63% of new generation came from 171 small hydropower projects with an average capacity of 12MW, while 4% was from 21 solar photovoltaic and biomass projects developed by local IPPs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="503" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Over three decades, investment in Nepal’s power supply came primarily from new actors that had never before been involved in this sector. The rate of electrification rose from 10% to close to 100% -- sufficient to meet domestic needs during most of the year, and in 2024 made Nepal a net exporter of power to India for the first time in its history. As practically all the new investment in this period went into run-of-river hydro and solar projects, rather than into hydropower reservoirs with seasonal storage, Nepal continues to rely on imports from India during the dry winter months. Surplus electricity generation for export during the monsoon is slated to grow rapidly as another 200 solar and hydro projects are nearing completion of construction, with over 5,000MW of power capacity. Private Power The cancellation of Baby Arun inadvertently accelerated the entry of the private sector into Nepal’s power generation. The government enacted the Electricity Act in 1992 to attract private IPPs and diversify away from total dependence from international aid, but had been struggling for several years to conclude the first agreement with the 60MW Khimti Project. There remained a large gap between the tariff that the government thought was reasonable versus what was demanded by the Norwegian investor Statkraft, and the private sector arms of the World Bank and ADB that were financing the project. The shock of World Bank withdrawal from Baby Arun put tremendous pressure on the government, then led by the UML as it is now. The Bank’s decision to terminate its involvement was ostensibly, at least partially, taken in response to a letter critiquing the project sent by the UML while it was in the opposition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347" data-rendition-name="original" width="949" height="446" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>BAD NEWS: Newspaper clippings from the early 90s on tender announcement ahead of loan approval (left) and secrecy surrounding environmental assessment (centre) of Arun III before its eventual cancellation in August 1995.</figcaption> </figure>  The government was forced to soften its position and agree to the investors’ terms following the cancellation of Baby Arun. It directed NEA to sign a power purchase agreement (PPA) with Khimti. It was concluded in January 1996, and this was followed by a second PPA in July 1996 with Panda Energy, the American developer of the 45MW Upper Bhotekosi project. The expensive USD-denominated agreements to buy power from two international private producers, with price escalation clauses tied to the New York Consumer Price Index, sent alarm bells ringing. There was worry that the country was heading towards unaffordable tariff rates for the consumer and potential bankruptcy for NEA as a result of inevitable future weakening of the Nepali Rupee. The government had strong-armed NEA into signing these agreements, and realised that concessionary financing terms that Nepal was used to receiving for public sector projects such as Baby Arun and Kali Gandaki A, that included below-market interest rates and 40 years repayment period with a 10 year grace period before starting repayment, were not the norm for private sector investors. Nepal’s status as a less than attractive destination for foreign investment meant that the country had few options but to accept expensive dollar PPAs from international developers with the high commercial interest rates and short repayment periods imposed by their banks because of high investment risks. In the end, the government ended up having to additionally provide a sovereign guarantee in order to close the deal at the insistence of the lenders – committing it to repayment in case NEA defaulted on paying the IPPs. It is reasonable to assume that the extraordinarily high political cost of agreeing to the PPA terms would have meant that no government would have willingly agreed to them in 1995 had it not suffered the trauma of the loss of concessionary-financed public sector projects as large as the Baby Arun. It has taken NEA 25 years to consider offering dollar-denominated PPAs again: to cover the foreign exchange portion of the investment in the 216MW Upper Trisuli-1 and 120MW Rasuwa-Bhotekosi Hydropower projects. It seemed unlikely at the time, but it turned out that the dire situation Nepal found itself in 1995 planted the seed to mobilise investment for affordable power from within the country. Double Whammy After the dual shock of first losing investment in Baby Arun and having to sign expensive power purchase agreements with international IPPs, the first proposal for an alternative strategy to mitigate the risk of foreign currency investment into hydropower projects came from a group of engineers within the Arun III team at NEA. Led by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4900">Deputy Director Damber Bahadur Nepali,</a> engineers convinced the leadership that NEA needed to invest in a subsidiary company to build a series of locally-designed and domestically-financed projects that would have lower cost with rupee-denominated PPAs. They registered the Chilime Hydropower Company Limited (CHCL) in October 1995 with 51% shares from NEA, 25% from its employees, and 24% available for the general public, 10% of which was prioritised for local residents at the project site. The 22.1MW project is in Rasuwa on a tributary of the Trisuli, and mobilised debt financing from the Employee Provident Fund, which manages retirement savings for employees of the government, public enterprises, and private sector institutions. CHCL’s experience showed that NEA employees themselves believed that individual hydropower projects with operational independence from NEA could be developed profitably in Nepal by its own engineers -- and they were willing to put their own money on the line. Chilime also demonstrated that there was money in the country, particularly with retirement funds, looking for opportunities for long-term investments. Following completion of Chilime in 2003, CHCL led the formation of three other NEA subsidiary companies that completed construction in 2023 and 2024, producing 168.3MW using fully rupee-tied investment. NEA’s largest subsidiary, the Upper Tamakosi Hydropower Limited, completed construction of its 456MW plant in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1571" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>DAMNED: The $700 million 456MW Upper Tamakosi built entirely with domestic funds before it was destroyed by the September floods last year. </figcaption> </figure>  There were some delays and cost overruns on this run-of-river project, the largest in the country with a final cost of over $700 million -- all of it sourced domestically. The five subsidiary companies launched by NEA have produced almost two times as much new power as NEA has over the past 30 years. Seven other NEA subsidiaries are currently constructing projects to add another 474MW to the national grid. But even more important than NEA subsidiaries have been local IPPs: Nepali companies which have over the past three decades enthusiastically entered the hydropower sector. From a regulatory perspective, the credit for mobilising domestic private investment to engage in power generation goes to Minister of Water Resources Shailaja Acharya, who in 1998 offered a flat feed-in-tariff of Rs4/kWh for hydropower projects under 10MW. This upfront offer removed a major barrier that early developers had faced of having to spend money to carry out a detailed feasibility study before they could even start tariff negotiations with NEA. She had laid the foundation stone of the Chilime project, and proved to be the champion of opening up the sector for domestic IPPs. The guarantee of a PPA with a fixed tariff, irrespective of project specifications, gave small power developers the confidence to apply for survey licenses and invest in feasibility studies so they could directly approach commercial banks and make a case for their project producing required revenue to repay loans. Domestic IPPs started adding power to the national grid in 2002. Their contribution was initially modest, and first projects were small and commercial lenders who took time to be confident about providing debt financing to a sector which had previously not been considered suitable for private sector investment. While the first 10 years were slow, with less than 10MW being added to the grid each year, this increased twenty fold over the following ten years, resulting in the equivalent of a Baby Arun being added by Nepali IPPs to the grid each year. A total of 84 IPPs added 232MW, 328 MW, 454MW, and 400MW of new generation to the grid in 2021-2024 (graph). There was explosive, exponential growth as domestic developers have surged ahead to account for 76% of the new megawatts added to the grid since 2020, compared to 24% by NEA and its subsidiary companies. The megawatts that IPPs are adding have followed the classic ‘hockey stick curve’ with the ‘breakout point’, signaling the rapid growth phase in 2020. Private producers are expected to accelerate new generation in the coming years with 300 solar and hydropower projects adding 11,000MW. Another 166 hydropower and 96 solar projects are currently in the survey stage, and are in line to add another 11,000MW to the construction pipeline. One major challenge is finding financing required for the projects. Domestic investment will no longer be sufficient to finance this ambitious pipeline of renewable energy projects. Project developers as well as NEA and the Electricity Regulatory Commission will have to leverage their substantial experience accumulated through the construction of over 200 projects to attract regional and international investment and hedge the risks of dollar-denominated PPAs. Following the cancellation of Baby Arun, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Nepal developed a highly distributed power sector</a>. The national electricity grid is currently supplied with power from a remarkably decentralised array of hundreds of hydropower and solar photovoltaic projects spread across 43 districts and all seven provinces.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1228" height="867" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  This presents a sharp contrast to the pathway of a few large public sector hydropower projects with a sprinkling of private sector projects that was envisioned as part of NEA’s investment planning when Baby Arun was being considered the front runner for investment. The strategy then was to allow public sector investment in a few large hydropower projects with thermal plants to fill the gap. Knowing what we know now about acceleration of climate change impacts and increased extreme weather events, following this path would have made Nepal’s power sector highly vulnerable. Decentralised generation greatly improves the resilience of Nepal’s power supply as damage to power plants in one part of the country need not affect other areas that have their own generation. Following the investment plan where over two thirds of the country’s power supply would have come from power plants on the Arun River, would have greatly imperiled Nepal’s energy security. All rivers in Nepal are susceptible to flooding from cloudbursts made more frequent by climate change. The Arun River which is fed by glaciers in Tibet is also at risk to glacial lake outburst floods. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal. <h2>Decentralised and Diversified</h2> In the 30 years since the cancellation of ‘Baby Arun’: Hydropower projects constructed cover capacities ranging from less than 1MW to 456MW and developed by IPPs from across the country with strong local involvement in purchasing equity shares. Renewable energy sources contributed to the generation mix through solar IPPs that further contribute to climate resilience, and cover shortfalls during low rainfall. The government is committed to solar contributing 10% of the power on the grid. Increasing solar beyond this target and providing incentives to project developers to invest in utility-scale battery storage would further improve resilience. BIG ARUN: The 900MW Arun III project under construction since 2018 at Num in Sankhuwasabha (pictured, below) is a separate initiative by a different project developer using a different financing modality. The ‘Baby Arun’ version of Arun III was cancelled in 1995.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> </figure>

30 years after Baby Arun

Nepal has shut down dozens of social media platforms in a move that is widely seen as an effort to tax the revenue they generate in the country, and to control content critical of government. The sites were blocked as of midnight on Thursday, 4 September and affects all Meta products including WhatsApp and Messenger, Threads, and others. Although YouTube, Google and X are also on the government’s list, they were still working as of Friday midday.&nbsp; The government says it took the action after repeated warnings to the platforms to open offices in Nepal, a Cabinet decision last month setting a deadline, as well as a 17 August Supreme Court ruling also requiring them to register and pay requisite taxes. However, the Bill cited in the ban, ‘The Operation, Use, and Regulation of Social Media in Nepal’ has not yet been passed by Parliament. Some social media platforms which were already paying taxes in Nepal even though they are not officially registered, have also been blocked. The move is the latest in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/big-beautiful-bills" target="_blank">a slew of draft legislations</a> designed to undermine Nepal’s open society. A Bill amending the Print and Publications Act would allow district bureaucrats to shut down media. Another draft Bill would allow political appointees to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke the licenses of journalists.&nbsp; A counter-intelligence Bill would let just about anyone in government to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens. On Wednesday the government announced new immigration requirements that would allow it to track the movement of all foreigners in the country. Yet another draft Bill has been set to Parliament to dissolve the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675" target="_blank">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> and move registration and monitoring of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities to the Ministry of Social Welfare. Seen in this light, the blockage of social media platforms this week is seen as the latest government attempt to constrict freedom of press. Nepal is one of the few remaining open societies in Asia, and now appears to be drifting towards authoritarianism. The government’s sudden shutdown of social media has been greeted with howls of protest on platforms that still remain open, like Viber and TikTok, as well as in Nepal’s mainstream press. Even senior members of the ruling UML-NC coalition have sharply criticised the move, asking if the government is trying to “turn Nepal into North Korea”.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656" data-rendition-name="original" width="4280" height="5187" loading="lazy" alt="social media ban in Nepal"> </figure>  The Regional Director of the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) Beh Lih Yi said in a statement: ‘Nepal’s sweeping ban on social media sets a dangerous precedent for press freedom. Blocking online news platforms vital to journalists will undermine reporting and the public’s right to information. The government must immediately rescind this order and restore access to social media platforms, which are essential tools for exercising press freedom.’ Besides undermining press freedom, blocking social media platforms will also hurt commerce and the economy since so many small and medium business trade through Instagram, Facebook and other platforms. Nepal’s vibrant social media has also been a boost or citizens to assert identity, build solidarity against injustice and play an adversarial role when the mainstream media does not do it. Social media platforms have also become the tenuous link for Nepali families scattered across the world to keep in touch with each other — its importance growing with the increasing size of the diaspora. The government wants social media platforms to register, pay taxes and remove posts on their sites that ‘undermine the national interest and Nepal’s territorial integrity, disturb social and religious harmony’.&nbsp; In response, rights activists have said while there is need for the government to regulate extreme content and hate speech, officials appear to be more intent on clamping down on free speech and trying to force platforms to share the revenue. On Friday, the government had allowed WhatsApp back online, but there were reports that it had instructed the Nepal Telecommunication Authority (NTA) to instruct mobile and internet service providers to block by Friday night all platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, Messenger, WhatsApp, X (Twitter), YouTube, LinkedIn, Reddit, Threads, Snapchat, Pinterest, Signal, Clubhouse, Rumble.&nbsp; Platforms that have registered and are allowed include TikTok, Viber, Nimbuzz, Popo Live, WeTalk, Global Diary and the Nepali portal Hamro Patro. TikTok was banned last year for ‘disturbing social harmony’ and it was lifted after the platform registered its office in Nepal. But even while it was banned, many users simply switched to VPN. Telegram was also banned for ‘financial crimes’ and it has since also been allowed back. NTA officials confirmed that some Asia-Pacific regional offices of platforms, including Meta had been in touch overnight inquiring about the registration process.&nbsp; Nepal is not alone in regulating social media. China bans most Western platforms, Russia and Turkey regulate their and require platforms to locate their data servers in the country. Gulf countries allow social media but keep a tight control on dissent.&nbsp; Experts have said even the government will not dare close down YouTube since so many Nepali individuals and companies make money with posts on that platform, and closing it would also impact on Google and Gmail. Facebook had also just launched a monetisation scheme for videos and reels, and Nepalis uploading content would lose revenue.&nbsp; Blocking the platforms has already hit content creators, influencers and cut small businesses from reaching customers. A survey of social media use in Nepal by Sharecast Initiative showed that 94% of those with smart phones used YouTube, followed by Facebook (92%) while TikTok was in the 50-60% range. X and Instagram were in the single digits. A YouTube ban will also hurt the mainstream media since up to 20% of the revenue of Nepal’s main tv channels came through YouTube. Some 11.1 million Nepalis watch YouTube content every day, the survey showed. ‘For global giants like Meta or Google, Nepal is a small market, and they may not even flinch — but for millions of Nepalis, these platforms are central to daily life, livelihoods, and connections across the world,’ wrote AI consultant Naresh Newar in a LinkedIn post. Some experts said the government’s sweeping ban on social media networks was untenable and the government would be forced to rollback sooner or later. Said editor Shiva Gaunle: “The platforms had given citizens a voice and broken the monopoly of the government, legislators, the courts and journalists over public opinion. This is an effort to reassert that monopoly, but Nepal can never be turned into a North Korea.”

Protest grows against Nepal’s social media ban

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fZXyjsE28" target="_blank">Yog Narendra Malla</a> became king at age 18, and ruled Patan from 1684-1705 — his reign marked by a cultural and architectural renaissance of the city state. He put up a statue of himself in the palace square with a little bronze bird sitting on the guardian serpent above his head. It is said he told his subjects that he would look after their welfare till the day the bird flew off. During<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu"> the 2015 earthquake</a>, the pedestal collapsed and the statue was damaged. The bird was lost, only to be located in a pile of debris and reinstated when the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/piece-by-piece-patan-darbar-square-reconstruction,3782" target="_blank">statue was consecrated</a> two years later. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/x2fZXyjsE28?si=jYfIb4p6zCLXYQ1T" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> History remembers Yog Narendra Malla as a wise king, but like most<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home"> royalty of the day</a>, he had a weakness for women. He is supposed to have consorted with 30 queens and numerous concubines. At least 33 of them self-immolated themselves on the king's funeral pyre when he died, adhering to the prevailing <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Jhola,947">practice of sati</a>. When Yog Narendra Malla’s favourite queen found out that he was carrying on with yet another woman, she got the local community of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood to stage a shadow sex play to quite literally expose his unfaithfulness. Actors enacted the explicit exploits of the king and his mistress, a bright butter lamp projecting the moving shadows of their lovemaking on a thin white drape to entertain those gathered in the square below. The queen made sure that the show was designed to face the home of the king’s paramour to shame them both. She also paid for a group to chant a bhajan with lyrics that ridiculed the king’s extramarital affair. The Jhyalcha Guthi community trust that the queen set up three-and-half century ago is still active to this day, and performs the annual shadow play in the same building in Kwelachhi the day before <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Indra Jatra </a>every year. This year’s show is on Friday evening, 5 September. The opening lines of the chants that accompany the play are the same words approved by the queen all those years ago: “Raja Yog Narendra ya aparadh…” (King Yog Narendra’s crime…) The community leader of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood, 62-year-old Baburaja Awale, explains the importance of the event: “This Jhyalcha is our<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saving-the-intangible,3303"> intangible heritage</a> and oral history. We do not have a written format, it has been passed down from generation to generation. Every word of the bhajan is the story of King Yog Narendra Malla.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1167" loading="lazy" alt="Sex and the city of Patan"> <figcaption>The statue of Yog Narendra Malla being reinstated after it toppled in the 2015 earthquake. Photo: GOPEN RAI/ NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Jhyalcha Pyankha, as the ceremony is called, starts with a puja for the Bhimsen — the god of wealth and prosperity, a popular <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-homecoming-of-nepal-s-gods">deity in Patan</a> who has a temple dedicated just to him in the palace square. This is immediately followed by a bhajan of Bhairab performed with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-house,670">traditional Newa musical instruments</a>. Community members serve snacks consisting of samay baji beaten rice, water buffalo chunks, soybean, green veggies, lentils, ginger, garlic and aila liquor. “In the first act of the shadow play, the man initiates the lovemaking, and in the third it is the woman,” says Laxmi Lal Awale, also a member of the trust that organises the show. The shadow action is all uncensored, but interspersed with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">scenes of everyday life</a>: the woman is spinning a thread, the king is going about his royal chores, and the two sit down to share sanacha fermented pickle that is popular this time of year. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qZ3twuG1wNQ?si=yRfkoC3A-X9cIl8r" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> “Back then, there was no tv, films or YouTube, and yet we managed to stage the shadow play using our own resourcefulness,” says Baburaja Awale. “It is important to continue the tradition.” The challenge now is to ensure that the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain"> younger generation takes over</a>, learning the lyrics of the ancient bhajan. The dafa khala group that performs all over Patan during festivals and religious events is now training teenagers to play the musical instruments and act in the shadow play. The Jhyalcha was staged even after the 2015 earthquake when the falcha where the bhajan is performed collapsed and they made-do in a tin shed. The structure was later rebuilt with a grant from the group, Photo Circle. Lalitpur Metropolitan City sets aside a budget of Rs50,000 to organise the Jhyalcha Pyankha every year, but this is not enough and is supplemented by individual donations. The performers including musicians and actors are all volunteers, and take part in it because it is their community duty. The erotic shadow play was way ahead of its time, not just in its graphic content but the use of contemporary local technology as well as improvisation and pure imagination. Says Laxmi Lal: “Whatever its origin in the legend of King Yog Narendra Malla and his queen, Jhyalcha also served as a medium of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lets-talk-about-it">sex education</a>. In the past, women were discouraged from watching the shadow play, but today everyone is welcome, we all watch it together.” Jhyalcha Pyankha Kwelachhi, Chyasal, Patan 7PM onwards Friday, 5 September

Sex and the city of Patan

This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

contraceptives