<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101116/637208209c7e80680e0b54cejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1119"/><figcaption>Takam village (above) in Dhaulagiri Municipality is a model for how federalism should function. Photos: JOY STEPHENS</figcaption></figure>Bal Bir Biswakarma from the village of Lulang at the lap of Mt Dhaulagiri in Central Nepal is a 68-year-old subsistence farmer, descendants of metal smiths who settled here centuries ago to smelt copper ore.When the copper ran out, he became a high altitude porter, summiting Mt Lhotse and even rock climbing in Wyoming in the United States. But, as Joy Stephens <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-clouds-are-lifting-below-dhaulagiri/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">writes in her travelogue</a> most of his life Bal Bir Biswakarma has been living hand-to-mouth in this Dalit village high up in the mountains.Since 2017, Lulang is a part of Dhaulagiri Municipality and elected Thamsara Pun as mayor who took the revolutionary step of moving the headquarter from the traditional power centre of Takam to Muna village to make it better accessible to the region’s indigenous and Dalit populations.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101116/637208239c7e80680e0b54cfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="792"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the past five years, villagers have begun to see improvements in healthcare, education and jobs, thanks to political devolution gained through Nepal’s new federal structure. Pun is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/all-politics-is-local/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">looking forward to fast-tracked local elections</a> on 18 May, and the chance to serve five more years.This is what federalism means in practice: giving voice to the voiceless, letting under-served communities take charge so they can better take care of themselves. Dhaulagiri Municipality is also a reminder to the squabbling political class in faraway Kathmandu, some of whom have prematurely declared federalism dead without even letting it prove its worth.Excitement about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/think-nationally-vote-locally/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">local elections</a> is already palpable across rural Nepal, but a cynical and pessimistic political class in the national capital does not want to let go of power and resources. In fact, despite a federal Constitution, political decision-making is more centralised than ever before.While the rights of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/polls-in-the-time-of-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">local governments</a> are enshrined in the Constitution, it is not followed in the spirit with access to resources for them to actually perform.“Federalism is the sum total of everything we Nepalis have gone through, from various governing structures to the Maoist conflict, the Madhes Movement and everything in between,” explains Khimlal Devkota, recently elected to the National Assembly.“Federalism stands for stability, development and devolution and we had high expectations, expecting quick results,” he adds. “In some ways we have succeeded, people don’t have to rely on Kathmandu for everything. But the centre is still involved in everything from hydropower plants to erecting view towers.”The 2015 Constitution <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/trial-error-democracy,3713" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">devolved rights to local and sub-national governments</a>, but the necessary laws were not in place until after elections. This meant a confusing transition regarding jurisdiction which threatened to undermine past gains in areas like community forestry, public health and education.“Coordination between the governments, vertical and horizontal, is a pillar of federalism and so is functional demarcation,” says Balananda Paudel who headed the Local Bodies Restructuring Commission. “Our laws are riddled with lack of clarity in some places and elsewhere there is a problem of overlapping functions for different levels of government.”This results in a perpetual blame-game between different levels of government, and a lack of accountability. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-f-word/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Federalism</a>, therefore, is still work in progress and this year’s series of elections will hopefully result in greater devolution.One of the reasons federalism got a bad name is that in the past years, it also decentralised corruption. Of the 753 local governments, one-third have elected chairs and mayors who are contractors and have awarded themselves <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hiding-their-head-in-the-sand/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">sand-mining</a>, road-building and quarrying  contracts.Which is why upcoming local elections are even more important -- to reward elected municipal governments who have worked for the people with another five-year term and reject those who did not.This might also be a time to question the purpose of retaining a parallel power structure composed of the District Administrations and the Chief District Officers. Its job of issuing citizenship papers and passports allows this unelected office of centralised bureaucrats to wield extraordinary power over ordinary people.Federalism has also multiplied central-level politics by seven. Bagmati Province recently set a new record with 70 mini-ministries in Hetauda to allow the coalition to keep power. Much of the last five years were wasted in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/The-f-word-again,1426" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">endless debates about demarcation</a> of provincial boundaries and designating capitals. It took four years for Madhes Province to get its name, and Province 1 is still just a number.“We have made some headway in formulating laws and regulations, now we must bring it into practice, improving staffing for service delivery at local levels and promoting better coordination between and within levels by activating intergovernmental relations,” says Balananda Paudel.Just as democracy is only as effective as politicians, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/federalism-rule-of-law-and-the-judiciary/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">federalism</a> too will only function if it follows the true spirit of devolution of power and resources to the periphery. It needs political will at the centre to provide technical and financial support – something we have not seen in the last five years.Says Khimlal Devkota: “Citizens should be placed at the centre of all decision making. This can be done only by nurturing and strengthening federal practice.”

Sonia Awale

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Power to the periphery

Hiding their head in the sand

<figure><img width="800" height="423" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12769c7e80680e0a98d7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Children who have lost their lives in the pits and ditches left by contractors: (clockwise) Riya Bishwakarma, Sushil Layomagar, Aditya Layomagar, Jasmine Khatun, Suman Mahato, Anil Mahato, Karuna Bishwakarma, and Samma Khatun. All Photos: MUKESH POKHREL/HIMAL</figcaption></figure>Despite protests, defiant sand mining and quarry contractors have continued to leave large abandoned pits along Nepal’s rivers in which children drown by the dozens every year. There is no exact count of how many of the children who drown every monsoon lose their lives in the pits and ditches left by sand mining contractors because police only record these deaths as generalised '<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/death-by-drowning-on-the-rise/">deaths by drowning</a>’.In Dhanusa district alone, 206 children have drowned in the past two years – most of them were under 15 years and died while swimming in these water-filled sand mining pits.  Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/drawing-a-line-in-the-sand/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Drawing a line in sand</a>, Bhrikuti Rai <figure><img width="1200" height="700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12789c7e80680e0a98d8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Sushil Layomagar, 12, of Birendra Bazar could not return to school after holidays in July 2019 because of heavy rains. He was sent out in the afternoon to graze goats, but fell into a 50m deep pit dug by a sand mining contractor, and drowned together with a friend.This was a doubly severe blow to his mother, Chhalimaya, whose husband Hari Bahadur had died in Saudi Arabia earlier that year. The contractor had extracted sand and gravel to build the Bharatpur-Srirampur road, but left the gaping hole that filled with water after the rains.There was a strong protest against the contractor. "We told them to stop digging, the children will fall into the ditch,” says Susil’s grandmother Madhumaya Layomagar. “But they shouted at us, saying that they owned the land and could do with it as they pleased."In the adjoining Sarlahi district the same year, Samma Khatun, 6, and Jasmine Khatun, 11, of Sarlahi drowned in a pit dug by a brick kiln. The two girls left home to play at noon, but when they did not return for two hours the parents started a frantic search. Jasmine's grandmother Jahira Khatun recalls, "They used to go to pick grapes, so we went to look over there. A while later, the brick kiln workers saw the children in the water and called us. They had already stopped breathing.”  <figure><img width="1200" height="700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d127c9c7e80680e0a98d9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It is not just in the Tarai that children are drowning in abandoned sand pits. In Nuwakot, 12-year-old Binita Balami fell into a ditch left by illegal sand miners. Laxmi Tamang, 35, jumped into the pond to save her but also drowned. Last year, another 12-year-old boy drowned in similar circumstances by Nuwakot’s Likhu River. There have been many localised protests against contractors and calls for a ban on their activities, but both licensed and illegal businesses have local political patronage and have continued unabated. The rampant sand mining does not just pose a danger to children drowning, but also threatens bridges and other infrastructure.Residents of Naktjij in Dhanusa have repeatedly complained to the municipality office against illegal gravel extraction along the Aurahi River, which has led to many deaths of children. The practice continues. It was after protests against illegal sand mining on Aurahi River that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/drawing-a-line-in-the-sand/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Dilip Mahato</a> was beaten and then run over and killed by a tipper truck near his home in Sripur in January 2020. Mahato was a college student in India, and had been outraged by the dangerous pits that the contractors left near his home.  <figure><img width="1200" height="700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d127f9c7e80680e0a98dajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/trickledown-corruption,4176">Trickledown corruption</a>, Editorial<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/bulldozing-democracy-in-nepal,4184">Bulldozing democracy</a>, Om Astha RaiFollowing his murder, locals formed a struggle committee and waged a losing battle against the contractors. Dilip's father, Ramjivan Mahato, says the police sided with the owners of the Churiyamai Sand Processing Centre. The government’s rule on sand excavation prohibits sand and gravel mining within 2km of towns, and along rivers with a 1km radius of highways and bridges. The regulation requires contractors to level out ditches after mining so it does not collect water. The rules are blatantly ignored. Neither the national nor provincial governments have any data on how much sand, gravel and boulders are extracted from Nepal’s rivers and streams every year, but the Chure Tarai Madhes Conservation Committee estimates that more than 30 million cubic metres of riverine resources are collected annually nationwide. Only 20 out of 100 municipalities along the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/crushing-tale-of-Chure" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Chure Range</a> which are extracting sand and gravel actually had licenses, according to Prem Nath Poudel, a geologist at the Committee. He adds, "There has been far more excavation than we have allowed. Even within the 20 municipalities that have the approval.”The government is also seeing very little revenue in relation to the amount of excavation being done. The municipalities generally set a minimum price of Rs211 per cubic metre for the sand and gravel when inviting bids, which means the revenue for 30 million cubic metres should be Rs6.33 billion. “We are tired,” says Ramjivan. “When a child drowns and we lodge a complaint, excavation work stops for a day or two. But the digging soon resumes.”  <figure><img width="1200" height="700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12829c7e80680e0a98dbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But according to the National Natural Resources and Finance Commission, the government collected only Rs4.62 billion in revenue from sand and gravel contractors in the current fiscal year despite one-third of municipalities across the country having signed contracts for excavation. It is clear that most of the mining is illegal, or are licensed in exchange for kickbacks.The business is being driven by a surge in construction across the country, which has raised the demand for building material. The trade is so lucrative that political party leaders, the local administration and police officials are all in on it. In the 2017 local level elections, 68 among the 616 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Elected-contractors,4182" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">elected persons</a> from 137 municipalities of Province 2 had affiliations with excavation contractors. Dev Prakash Tripathi is a journalist, who after seeing rampant illegal sand mining in his native Malekhu has become an activist with the 'Save Trisuli Campaign' in Dhading district. He says, “Leaders and people's representatives of all political parties have invested in the sand and gravel trade, which means their businesses are above the law.” Some big names linked to sand and quarry contractors are Krishna Lal Shrestha, chairman of Galchi Municipality of Dhading, Rajendra Pandey, leader of CPN (Unified Socialist), Bhumi Tripathi, and Salikram Jamarkattel, leader of CPN-Maoist Centre. Bishwa Aryal and Prabhat Kiran Subedi of the Nepali Congress have also been found directly or indirectly involved. A local government chief in Mahottari district, who did not want to be named, admitted that he would not be able to cover his election expenses unless he supported sand extraction. He says matter-of-factly, “I can’t sell my house to pay for the election. What’s wrong with selling sand and pebbles that are washed down by the rivers?” Such criminal callousness angers families like the Layomagars and Khatuns who have lost their children to drowning on sand pits, and to Ramjivan Mahato whose activist son was killed by lawless contractors in cahoots with local politicians.Here in Dhanusa, the excavators and tipper trucks of the Churiyamai Sand Processing Centre are back on the banks of the Aurahi River, digging up sand and gravel. The company is still threatening the Mahato family. Says Ramjivan: “They say we already killed one of your children, don’t make us kill another one.”Translated from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/126355">original article</a> by Aryan Sitaula.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-creeps-up-surrounding-mountains/">Kathmandu creeps up surrounding mountains</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel

Drowning in sorrow

<figure><img width="800" height="910" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a419d9c7e80680e04a685jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Illustration: DIWAKAR CHETTRI</figcaption></figure>Just when we thought everything necessary had been said about <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/trickledown-corruption,4176" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s corrosive corruption</a>, it seems to be even worse. The idea that ‘corruption’ is a Rs100 note slipped under a table is now just a quaint notion. Today, a network of politicians, bureaucrats, the legislature, judiciary and private sector cartels plunder and loot from the people, dividing the spoils. The beauty of it: no one is caught.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=27016&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A klepto republic</a>, Editorial‘Corruption in Nepal is not a series of disjointed, individual acts. Instead, a range of stakeholders spanning public, private and criminal spheres operate as one to steal from the people and ensure impunity thrives,’ says a new report by the <a href="http://nitifoundation.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Niti Foundation</a>, Nepal’s Kleptocratic Network: Mapping Corruption and Impunity.  The network is one of shifting alliances spanning multiple agencies, with powerful businesses acting as brokers.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41a09c7e80680e04a686jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="350" height="248">‘Money flows upwards through the hierarchy while impunity and benefits flow downward,’ adds the report. It uses flowcharts to show and shame politicians, political parties, public institutions and the private businesses. Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/trickledown-corruption,4176" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Trickledown corruption</a>, Editorial <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/uncategorized/elected-contractors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Elected contractors</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-has-to-curb-corruption-before-wooing-investors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal has to curb corruption before wooing investors</a>, Ramesh Kumar ‘The private sector has gained primacy as the driver of corruption and impunity in Nepal ... its main roles are to distort the functions and policies of government regulatory agencies and to hijack key revenue streams to facilitate money laundering and rentier practices,’ the report concludes.In cahoots are political ‘patrons’ of the network and parties creating a ‘culture of collusion’, and public institutions, which also ‘collude with private interests and politicians to steal directly from the state’.State institutions have been ‘weaponised’ and ‘hollowed out’.So, who remains to protect the interests of the Nepali people? If you were thinking ‘the judiciary’, think again.The report states starkly: ‘Through pressure and threats, including sackings, impeachments, and forced retirements, political parties control and extract loyalty from justices.’

No shame

<img width="1400" height="1049" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41a19c7e80680e04a687jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>All of us witness examples of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17581#.XOS_jiAza70" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s corruption pandemic</a> every day in every sphere of life: from slipping a few to get a driving license to setting land transactions. Roads that are dug up and not finished for years and bridges that collapse as soon as they are built are our monuments to malfeasance. Clever civil servants now deploy ‘brokers’ outside their offices to ‘facilitate’ state services that should be free, so they do not have to directly get hands dirty. Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=27015&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">No shame</a>But these are cases of petty theft by small fry. At higher levels of government, corruption is so huge and widespread, so accepted as SOP, that the word ‘corruption’ does not do justice anymore to this <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/crony-communism/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">contagion</a> of loot and plunder.One egregious example of the rot was the ugly scene in the Parliamentary Accounts Committee (PAC) on Tuesday when Nepal Communist Party MP Aman Lal Modi accused <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-they-kept-nepal-in-the-dark-ages/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kul Man Ghising of the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA)</a> of corruption. Ghising, many readers will remember, is the man who ended the practice of his corrupt predecessors of providing 24-hour power to industries in return for bribes. Nepalis did not suffer from load-shedding just because of undersupply but because of structural corruption —  <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/corruption-in-electricity-industry-of-Nepal,3408" target="_blank" rel="noopener">top NEA executives were selling electricity to industrialists</a>, leaving household consumers in the dark for 10 years.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/interview-with-Kulman-Ghising,3409" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ghising</a> recently asked those industries to pay a backlog of dues for dedicated feeders, prompting Nepal’s so-called captains of industry to gang up on him. It does not take a Sherlock Holmes to figure out why MP Modi is using PAC to go after Ghising.Then there was the sordid affair of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/melamchi-delayed-by-government-extortion/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Melamchi contract</a>. The much-delayed $500 million project to bring water supply to Kathmandu Valley was nearing completion in December. A Dispute Resolution Board awarded the contractor Rs350 million for delays caused by the earthquake and Blockade in 2015, but a secretary in the Water Supply Ministry refused to sanction payment unless he got Rs50 million in kickbacks. The Italians abandoned the project, Melamchi is in limbo.To understand just how deep-rooted corruption in Nepal is today, a report issued this week by the <a href="http://nitifoundation.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Niti Foundation</a>, Nepal’s Kleptocratic Network: Mapping Corruption and Impunity, is an eye-opener. To be sure, none of what it contains should surprise us. We always knew rent-seeking was the modus operandi of the state, and politicians and bureaucrats were up to their necks in extraction and extortion. Such is the impunity, the big fish never get caught. <img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41a49c7e80680e04a688jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="350" height="248">The report tries to show, not tell, just how nefarious, deep-rooted and interlocked rent-seeking is in Nepal. Illustrating graft with graphics, we are given flowcharts to explain why plunder and impunity is so systemic.‘Core state entities responsible for regulation and upholding rule of law have been weaponised or hollowed out by the kleptocratic network to extract resources and guarantee impunity,’ says the report. ‘The impunity network comprises those that declare law, enforce law and apply law.’The report lays bare how Parliament is infiltrated by special interest groups who are in key committees drafting legislation for sectors like education, health and infrastructure. There is no separation of powers anymore -- the powers-that-be control all three branches of government.The executive openly interferes in legislative functions, and tries to influence the courts with ‘bench shopping’. Those who stand in the way or try to expose the rot, like Kul Man Ghising, are themselves accused of corruption. The state is in open collusion with the private sector, which is now well represented in Parliament. The CIAA corruption watchdog is a lapdog of the state. Lack of transparency and impunity is rife in the security forces. The report has gory details of how ‘<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-has-to-curb-corruption-before-wooing-investors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">revenue capture’</a> works through collusion between officials in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/trickledown-corruption,4176" target="_blank" rel="noopener">all three levels of government</a> and contractors.The only remaining check and balance function is carried out by the fourth estate, hence the moves to try to censor its content through legislation. But even the media is used by powerful interest groups to target rivals or tar those who expose them.Everyone seems to be on the take: it is a public-private partnership to loot the country. ‘The private sector has gained primacy as the driver of corruption and impunity in Nepal … by distorting the functions and policies of government regulatory agencies and to hijack key revenue streams to facilitate money laundering and rentier practices.’  The Niti Foundation report makes for thoroughly depressing reading, and what it lacks is a roadmap out of this morass. Our only hope is in a transparent and fair electoral process that will one day punish thieves and reward the honest by electing them to office. <img width="1282" height="919" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41a59c7e80680e04a689jpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>10 years ago this week</h2> The Nepali Times <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/452" target="_blank" rel="noopener">edition #452 of 22-28 May 2009</a> was filled with analysis of the politics post-resignation of Pushpa Kamal Dahal over the Army Chief sacking. The Ass had his own take on the matter, and except for GPK, the cast of characters are the same in this excerpt from the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15961#.XOaeC1IzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Backside Column ten years ago</a>:‘Rate we are going, the new federal constitution of Nepal is looking more and more like a mirage. The closer we get to it, the more it recedes. The prolonged coalition-cobbling is reminiscent of mid-1990s. And it’s the same old faces.BijayG being pulled by both arms to switch sides when Upadro refused to toe the line. The only difference with 15 years ago is that this time the entire exercise is outsourced to Lainchaur. And the sight of both GPK and PKD courting Kamal Thapa for royalist support just shows how quickly fortunes turn in politics.And even the bigger parties are out to feather their nests. One senior NC leader, when asked by the Ass if he would be joining the Makunay-led govt, said: “You think I’m stupid to join a sarkar that will last three months? I will join the one formed after this.” <img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41a89c7e80680e04a68ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="1270">

A KLEPTO REPUBLIC

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121140/636a40e49c7e80680e04a648jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="544"/>One of the most prominent changes we see while travelling across Nepal these days is the presence of earth movers, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/bulldozing-democracy-in-nepal,4184">bulldozers</a>, tipper trucks and excavators. They dominate the highways, gouge out riverbeds, claw at mountainsides and rip through forests.There may be many planners in Singha Darbar who claim to be the drivers of development. But out in the hinterland, we know who is really making development ‘happen’.Ask Nepalis in the districts what they want the most, and the answer will be “a road”. For them ‘road’ is synonymous with ‘development’, and they are going to get them by any means possible. If anyone still had any doubts, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/trickledown-corruption,4176">Kathmandu is no longer in charge</a>, thanks largely to the devolution of decision-making in the new Constitution.The road-building spree is now fuelled by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/uncategorized/elected-contractors/">local governments</a>, which get to spend money quite indiscriminately. Yet, with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/survey-is-wakeup-call-for-nepal-government/">three-fourths of the population now having access to some kind of road</a>, public demand for any old road is now being superseded by an insistence on black-topped roads that will not be washed away in the next monsoon. Quality is slowly taking precedence over quantity.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18019#.XNpIyuUza70">Roads are a two-way</a> street. They may be designed and built to take local produce to market, but roads also bring the market to remote villages. This can have a huge <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-road-from-nowhere-to-nowhere,549">negative impact</a> on the local economy if competitiveness is lost. Roads can also become an incentive to produce more, or disincentive to pack up and leave for the city or go abroad.Socio-economic and environmental studies are conducted before a road is built, but there is little to show that these recommendations have been studied, much less implemented. Roads may take local trout, strawberries and vegetables to the market, but they also enable human trafficking and the spread of HIV, and push land prices beyond the reach of the poor.On 13 May, Himalayan TV, Dooshan, Facts and V-chitra gave out excellence awards to projects that met new, higher standards. One surprise award went to the restoration of the historic Pim Bahal neighbourhood of Patan.The second surprise was that no one was awarded in the large project category: sending a message that there was plenty of room for improvement. Such due diligence to select winners will in future ensure that the quality of construction will improve. As the saying goes, when everyone stays average, the average goes down – this is what has long plagued the infrastructure sector in Nepal.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12390#.XNpJtOUza70">Dozers are literally changing the face of Nepal</a>. Mountains are no longer the barriers they were, which may be the necessary first step toward prosperity through connectivity. However, this process must ultimately deliver the kind of prosperity that can come with easier movement of value added goods and services. The cost of transport must go down over time.To attain such results, maintenance, management and upgrading of infrastructure must be a continuous process. Roads can not only pay for themselves, they can generate huge revenue in the longer term. Building infrastructure is not expenditure, as is currently perceived, but an investment.Many construction projects today are undertaken through a flawed public procurement regulation that awards the contract to the lowest bidder. This has resulted in many destructive projects and a waste of taxpayers’ money. In future, many projects will be designed, resourced and implemented by the private sector. Competition will help improve things in general.The government can collaborate with the private sector, as we are seeing in hydropower, hotels, schools and hospitals. There could even come a time when development partners will buy back well constructed social infrastructure built by the private sector as their contribution to Nepal’s development.During a recent trip up the Trisuli River, it was heart-warming to see dozers expanding the road to Kerung. Dozers are for development, it just depends on who is driving them.

Anil Chitrakar

Dozers and Nepal’s development

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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