<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b714f9c7e80680e0600c5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1228"/><figcaption>Shilu Sharma presenting news in sign language for Nepal Television. Courtesy: Shuli Sharma/ Facebook</figcaption></figure>In 2013, a government directive required every national television channel that broadcasts news to broadcast it in sign language at least once a day. Seven years later, even the government-owned NTV broadcasts news in sign language only once a week. The other channels don’t bother.The reason given for this is the lack of sign interpreters, and for NTV the lack of the extra camera needed to include sign narration.According to Nepal's laws, sign-language interpreters should be available not just in public offices, but also for budget speeches and discussions in Parliament. Since there are only 20 recognised professional interpreters in the country, however, deaf people are not getting the facilities to which they are entitled.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=39588&amp;preview_nonce=c90fc6f20e&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hearing for the deaf, seeing for the blind</a>, Sewa Bhattaai<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=39565&amp;preview_nonce=bb82a67baa&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sightseeing for the blind,</a> Sanghamitra Subbahttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=APd7QswuPN4In the first Constituent Assembly, the Parliament secretariat had employed interpreter Radha Bohora to sign for MP Raghav Vir Joshi from NCP (Samyukta). Joshi's private secretary Dinesh Shrestha also worked as an interpreter. But Parliament has not employed an interpreter after that."Even though it is not possible to provide interpretation facilities everywhere, they should be available in crucial places like hospitals, schools, and police stations," says K P Adhikari, president of National Deaf Federation Nepal.The Sign Language Interpreter Association has 60 members. But many of them have since changed their profession. "Interpreters work on a project basis. When projects end, they become unemployed, so there is no professional security for them," explains the group’s Shilu Sharma.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18239#.XiliXf4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Deaf like me</a>, Marcus BenignoNanu Shrestha Jayana used to present the news in sign language on Nepal Television. After working for more than 13 years as an interpreter, she quit. "We don't get regular work, so I could not stick to this profession. I still provide the service for free if anyone needs it," she says.Dinesh Shrestha has been working as an interpreter for 12 years, but does not have a certificate to prove his skills. Some countries require interpreters to study for two years and work for a year before being certified, but here there is disagreement about who should be responsible for certification. Interpreter Sanu Khimbaja believes the Ministry of Women, Children and Social Welfare should issue the certificate, but the Ministry has passed the buck to the Ministry of Education.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19539#.XilmaP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">License to ride</a>, Mina SharmaThe Nepali sign language also has a limited vocabulary, and interpreters are hard pressed to communicate difficult or subject-specific words and names of people and places. "There are many words for which there are no signs, and that creates difficulties when presenting news on television. We spell these words out, but we are not sure if the viewers understand the spellings," says Shilu Sharma.Interpreter Dinesh Shrestha, who worked for former MP Joshi, also says he found his job difficult because there are no signs for many political and legal terms, and these are difficult to communicate through spelling.The Deaf Federation has been working to further develop Nepali sign language, and five years ago it published a new dictionary with 4,700 words.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/dayaram-maharjan%20-making-disabled-children-more-able,2507" target="_blank" rel="noopener">More able</a>, Sajana Baral

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Listening to the hearing impaired

<img width="1500" height="1547" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71529c7e80680e0600c6jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Sarah Yonzan Giri never intended to become a sign-language expert. The wife of Nepal’s famous Panchayat-era prime minister, she was living in Bangalore in 2002 when she wandered into a class for sign language by chance.“The room was silent, but there was a lot of animated signing going on,” Giri remembers. “They were shouting, but I could not hear them.”She had found her life’s mission: advocacy of deaf rights. And recently, she has found that this passion extends to the rights of blind people as well. This has given her a unique vantage point from which she can compare the two worlds, and understand and articulate the unique needs of their inhabitants.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11537#.XiliMP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sarah's children</a>Giri recalls her moment of epiphany: “I realised that I had been Deaf with a capital D, or culturally deaf. I could hear very well, but I was completely deaf to the unique language of the deaf community.” Back in Nepal, she started helping the deaf community organise art exhibitions, since the visible world is so important to those whose hearing is impaired. Every wall in Giri’s 3-storey house in Kathmandu is covered with works of deaf art — paintings that express the feelings and experiences of deaf people. In one painting, bells clang and bricks fall to one side of the canvass, while feathers float on the other, suggesting that for deaf people, loud sounds fall as gently as down.Giri says deaf people want a channel of communication with the rest of the world, but for that they need proper schools where they can learn standardised sign languages. If not, they will be stuck with making improvised signs and communicating only with those close to them. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=39575&amp;preview_nonce=35bdcd61ca&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Listening to the hearing impaired</a>, Nunuta Rai <figure><img width="640" height="515" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71559c7e80680e0600c7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="640" height="486" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71599c7e80680e0600c8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Every country has its own sign language – and learning at least standardised Nepali sign enables deaf people to communicate with others who know it in Nepal. It is best if they learn American sign too, which is quickly becoming the lingua franca for deaf people like English is for those who hear.Giri herself is fluent in Nepali, Indian and American sign languages (each of which are completely different from each other) and communicates animatedly in all three. Her husband Tulsi Giri was always supportive of her work, but she took time off from it to care for him before his death in 2018.One day after her husband passed away, Giri was walking along the Vishnumati when she heard a plaintive voice singing. “It was really strong and it touched my heart,” recalls Giri, who on following the sound to its source found the singer to be blind. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/dayaram-maharjan%20-making-disabled-children-more-able,2507" target="_blank" rel="noopener">More able</a>, Sajana Baral  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=APd7QswuPN4She invited him home, and along the way described everything to him: the roads, trees and buildings outside. Giri says she learnt then that sound is as important to the blind as visuals are to deaf people.After working with people with two different types of disabilities, Giri has insights into their unique worlds. For example, the deaf have two names – one given by their parents which they may never have never heard and may not answer to, and one in sign language which they identify with. “Lighting is very important for deaf people. Something that normal people would see as mysterious dim light settings would not appeal to them, because they cannot sign and talk there,” she expalins.It is just the opposite with blind people, where light is not important, but sound and touch is. When Giri brings her blind friends home, she describes everything to them — the colour of her living room, the texture of the table in front of them, what lies behind them or beside them. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18615#.Xiljef4zbIW" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Different, but able</a>, Bhrikuti Rai  <figure><img width="640" height="466" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b715d9c7e80680e0600c9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71609c7e80680e0600cajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>She often takes blind friends on a walk to get them familiar with their surroundings because they may trip and fall in new places. “We can control things in familiar places, but the world is a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/seeing-it-a-different-way-for-visually-impaired-in-Kathmandu,2933" target="_blank" rel="noopener">live hazard for blind people</a>,” she says. “We put construction materials on pavements, and sometimes street animals are lying around.”Giri says she has learnt from the disabled community that they do not want to be just helped or pitied. They want to be contributing members of society.Her fondest example is a recent outing to Raksha Nepal, an organisation that helps sexually exploited women, that she made with a band of musicians called Prayas, where all the musicians are blind. The visit was healing for both communities.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-right-of-passage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The right of passage</a>, Sahina Shrestha <figure><img width="5472" height="3648" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71639c7e80680e0600cbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Giri also helped organise an IT challenge with Bright Star Society, in partnership with hotel Yak and Yeti. Bright Star was founded by a blind friend Sushil Adhikari. Gautam Pokharel, the first blind person to pass the public service commission examinations and become a Nepal Telecom officer, won the challenge. Giri speaks with pride about these men and about many activist friends within the blind community.“I admire the work of Shristi KC, who lost her eyesight late in life and now helps friends through the organisation <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/blind-rockers-2019/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Blind Rocks</a>," she says. "Laxmi Nepal, Sanjiya Shrestha, and Sarita Lamichane work on empowering women and help protect them from gender-based violence. This thread of sensitivity, interest in human values and spiritual quest runs right across the community,” says Giri.“The blind people often do not exercise correctly, because they cannot see how to do it. I want to give audio instructions for exercise for blind people, and am currently looking for open space in which to do so,” she says. With her rich immersion in these two contrasting worlds of experience, her sensitivity to difference, and her strong motivation to help, Giri is determined to do what she can to help Nepal’s deaf and blind people. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18634#.XilkUP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Not seeing is believing</a>, Lochana Sharma<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/seeing-it-a-different-way-for-visually-impaired-in-Kathmandu,2933" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Seeing it a different way</a>, Smriti Basnet

Hearing for the deaf, seeing for the blind

There are more facilities for the visually impaired, but there is a long way for full mobility<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141144/636517739c7e80680e02c279jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="787"/>On a recent morning as Nabina Gyawali and her husband Arjun Paudel make their way home to Balkhu, they hit their first snag: the tactile guiding pavement supposed to help them navigate lead them straight into a concrete electricity pole.The guiding blocks run along the bus park sidewalk which are a favourite spot for people to urinate. Some bystanders stare and others trip on the white cane as the two make their way through the crowd. Rude street vendors spreading their wares on the guiding blocks ask them to move away.“Half my disability is due to the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/No-right-of-passage,156">lack of infrastructure</a>. In America, I was not blind for even a moment, here in Nepal I am blind at every moment,” says Gyawali, who visited the US three years ago on an exchange program.The streets of Kathmandu are bad enough for the sighted, but <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/seeing-it-a-different-way-for-visually-impaired-in-Kathmandu,2933">for the blind it is a nightmare</a> of reckless drivers, haphazard parking, piles of boulders, water pipes, open drainage and potholes.The 2011 census showed there are 96,000 <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/touching-and-feeling-seeing-hands,4105">visually impaired</a> -- 0.5% of the population. Nepal introduce the Disability Act 35 years ago, it is signatory to the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities and in 2012, the government approved accessibility guidelines. All this doesn’t mean much here at street level.“On paper Nepal has the best policies in South Asia but there is no implementation,” laments Ramesh Pokharel, President of <a href="http://www.nabnepal.org/">Nepal Association of the Blind</a> (NAB) who fractured his left arm and tore an ankle ligament when he fell 3m down an open drain on his way to school in Pokhara. He was hospitalised for 45 days after which he went to the municipality to ask it to cover the drain. Nothing happened.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141144/636517769c7e80680e02c27ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1257"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One of the major challenges these days is to navigate the city where streets are being dug up everywhere. “It is really difficult because the road is not the same as when we passed through in the morning and there is no information to guide us,” says Ikchya KC, 29, who started losing her vision gradually over the years.Another challenge is while crossing roads. Says KC: “There are no indicators, whether tactile or audio, at zebra crossings, and motorbikes rarely stop. They try to drive around us and that gets dangerous.”Sita Subedi was crossing the road at Lagankhel recently when a traffic police pulled her up for not using the zebra. “I had to explain that I am partially sighted and that I cannot see the crossing,” recalls Subedi, the chair of Nepal Blind Women Association.Stray cattle and dogs are also serious hazards. Arjun Paudel was walking down Rato Pul a few years ago when a bull charged at him. “I was scared and nearly jumped off the bridge. Passersby saved me,” he remembers.Most visually impaired rely on public transportation to go around the city and although there are reserved seats for them, during rush hour it is difficult to enforce the rule."There are people who willingly leave seats for us and go out of their way to help, but sometimes there are others who don’t give up seats reserved for those with disabilities,” says Gyawali.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NubLtBwQYzYWhile it is easier for white cane users to be identified and assisted, those with partial or low visual ability have a much more difficult time. Parwati Shrestha, 23, has partial sight and does not usually ask for the reserved seat or discounts on buses. “My disability is invisible and it is just tedious having to explain myself over and over again,” she says.Blind women have another problem: gropers on buses. Gyawali says she once pushed a middle-aged man off the seat for making an unwanted advance.Despite their challenges, the blind say there are signs of improvement and society is more aware of their special needs. “Public attitude has changed a lot, there was a time when the buses wouldn’t stop for us but these days both the driver and conductor help us get on and off and ensure we have a seat,” says KC.Rajita Regmi finds people in Kathmandu more helpful than those in Butwal, where she is from: “I have limited mobility so I find it difficult to use public transportation. At home my father drops me and picks me up from school, but here in Kathmandu I found people were more willing to help.”Apart from increasing awareness and changing attitude of the people, adopting universal design and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/kathmandu-accessibility-friendly,2609">mobility friendly technologies is necessary to make the roads safer for persons with disabilities</a>.Nara Bahadur Limbu of NAB has some more suggestions: “There need to be proper tactile pavements as well as audio and indicators at traffic lights, more accessible public toilets and public buildings. Buses should have audio announcements and tactile indicators to indicate stops.”Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/seeing-it-a-different-way-for-visually-impaired-in-Kathmandu,2933">Seeing it a different way</a>,  Smriti Basnet<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/kathmandu-accessibility-friendly,2609">Give them a way</a>,  Stéphane Huët<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/No-right-of-passage,156">No right of passage</a>,  Sulaiman Daud

Sahina Shrestha

The right of passage

Climber, expedition leader and later a supplier of bottled oxygen to Himalayan mountaineers, Henry Barclay Todd died on 3 November 2025 in his favourite place on earth, Kathmandu.&nbsp;
Todd was larger than life, a metaphor often used, yet it could not be more fitting. Standing nearly 2m tall, and possessing an unshakeable will, he lived life on a grand scale, both in body and spirit.&nbsp;
Todd was a pillar in the Himalayan climbing community, supporting many mountaineers across Nepal and Pakistan, making it possible for them to fulfil the dream of standing on the world’s highest peaks. He believed deeply in the strength, skill, and potential of the Sherpa people, and offered them opportunities that might otherwise have remained out of reach.&nbsp;
“Thank you, Henry. Your trust changed my life. Rest in peace, my leader, my teacher, my friend,” said Dorjee Gyelzen Sherpa in his tribute.
Born in 1945 to Royal Air Force officer Henry Todd and May Todd of the Women’s Royal Air Force, Henry spent his early years in Singapore. He led a lively childhood with his two brothers, far removed from the mountains that would later define his path.&nbsp;
A gifted swimmer like his father, Henry never pursued the sport professionally. Instead, after returning to Dundee as a teenager and attending seven different schools, he set off for London, where he began working for an insurance company before finding his true calling in adventure.
Henry Todd first came to Nepal in the mid-1980s and made his first attempt on Ama Dablam in 1987, an expedition that marked the beginning of an extraordinary and colourful climbing career. <a href="https://www.himalayandatabase.com/" target="_blank">The Himalayan Database</a> lists 61 expeditions that he led in Nepal alone — there were more in the Karakoram, Argentina and the Alps.&nbsp;
But Todd would joyfully say that a few hard Scottish ascents held a more personal meaning to him than even the greatest Himalayan summits.
Over the decades, he crossed paths with many legendary climbers like Anatoli Boukreev, Jerzy Kukuczka, Doug Scott and Chris Bonington as well as celebrities including members of Pink Floyd and Nobel Prize laureates whom he befriended.&nbsp;
He had a gift to never name-drop, but would simply mention that he had had lunch with Minnie Driver (niece of his long-time friend Andra) or that he had bought his first car from Donald Sutherland. For Todd, these were not bragging rights, they were simply part of the colourful tapestry of his life.
Todd’s life was filled with extraordinary experiences from surviving plane crashes, avalanches and earthquakes to quietly solving countless problems, which was one of his favourite past-times. His hands, famously large and steady, were always ready to help whether in the chaos of the mountains or the calm of a base camp.&nbsp;
With his sharp sense of humour and the beloved exclamation “Whoopie!”,he could bring lightness even to the toughest moments. He never tired of taking on challenges or helping when someone was in need, and he enriched so many people’s lives with his endless stories.
His legacy is immense. He helped build the human backbone of Himalayan climbing, enabling generations of climbers to test themselves in the world’s highest places. With his passing, an era of bold, spirited Himalayan guiding has come to a close.
Todd survived by a loving family, many close friends and a global community of climbers and Sherpas who will never forget him and his endless tales.&nbsp;
His family said in a statement: ‘Henry’s strength, warmth and unyielding belief in others will live on far above the clouds. He was indestructible in our eyes and in our hearts, he always will be.’
There will be a memorial service at Pashupati Temple in Kathmandu on 8 November 2025 around lunchtime.

Henry Barclay Todd, 80

The autumn mountaineering season is not over yet, and already there have been 12 fatalities on Himalayan peaks in Nepal.
Of the 1,450 climbing permits issued, 436 were for Mt Ama Dablam (6,812m), 374 for Mt Manaslu (8,163m) and 186 for Himlung Himal (7,126m). There were deaths on all three mountains.
The death of two French climbers on Ama Dablam happened before unseasonal blizzards hit the mountains. But Cyclone Montha from the Bay of Bengal brought on high winds and up to 1m of snow in the peak trekking and mountaineering season.
This increased avalanche conditions, and made helicopter evacuation of stranded and injured climbers difficult. Lower down the mountains, more than 1,000 trekkers from Nepal and around the world were stuck in the Annapurnas, Manaslu circuit and the Khumbu.
However, there have also been allegations that it was not just the weather that delayed rescues. Multiple levels of bureaucracy and the need for flight permits to restricted areas like Manang and Manaslu critically delayed evacuation flights.
Italian climbers Farronato Stefano and Caputo Alessandro were found dead in their tent at Panbari Himal Camp I (6,887m) in the Manaslu area. They had been trapped by heavy snowfall since 28 October, and their bodies were found on 4 November by a team from the expedition organisers, Sherpa Alpine Trekking Service. The team was made up of high level mountain guides and expedition leader Valter Perlino.
The team had been climbing to Camp 3 but decided to descend to base camp because of thrombosis in Perlino’s left foot. The two climbers who would eventually get trapped decided to break at Camp I, a decision that would prove fatal after the projected six-day snowfall arrived two days early.
“They were sleeping in a tent and were buried under 2.5 metres of compacted snow. It happened during the night between Thursday and Friday. While they were sleeping, absurd,” said Perlino.
A deadly incident took place the morning of 3 November, when five foreigners and two Nepalis died in an avalanche on Yalung Ri at 5,630m in the Rolwaling. They were part of a larger group of 15 that were acclimatising for an attempt on the nearby Dolma Khang (6,332m).
Local authorities in Gauri Shankar Conservation Area say calls were immediately made to helicopter companies as well as various ministries in Kathmandu that have to issue permits to fly to the region bordering China.
But the permits for rescue flights to Rolwaling Valley were delayed by eight hours. Rescue flights in these areas require permission from the Ministry of Tourism, the Ministry of Defence, the Home Ministry, and the Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN).
Experts say this should be exempted in times of emergency when time is of the essence. CAAN spokesperson Pratap Babu Tiwari claimed to not know of the avalanche on Yalung Ri and deflected questions to the permission department.&nbsp;
There was a similar tragedy on Himlung Himal in Manang as well. Australian Chin-Tark Chan, 49, was climbing with 8K Expeditions and fell ill on 27 October at about 6,800m, developing snow blindness and loss of mobility. The guides immediately called the US insurance company Global Rescue for authorisation of a longline rescue.
Global Rescue refused, saying a rescue at that height would violate Nepal’s aviation rules and put the pilot at unacceptable risk. They asked the guides to transport Chan to Camp 3 at 6,400m to a permitted altitude. Seeing it was a life-or-death situation for its client, 8K called in an aerial rescue anyway, but the helicopter could not land due to bad weather. Chan died slightly below Camp 3 on 29 October.
Global Rescue said in a statement that it was ready to send in a helicopter after Chan had been transported to Camp 3, but several hours were lost for that attempt, and the weather did not get better in the next few days.
To underscore just how dangerous helicopter rescues in the Himalaya can be in bad weather, a chopper from Altitude Air skidded off the helipad at Lobuche below Mt Everest while trying to rescue trekkers in whiteout conditions.&nbsp;
CAAN announced a ban on flights during blizzards or dense fog. While rescue missions are often heroic and courageous, they should not be foolhardy if conditions are unsafe and the risk to pilots and rescuers too high. This autumn was a lesson for future expeditions and for the Nepal government.&nbsp;
The Italian duo on Panbari were caught out by snow that arrived two days ahead of schedule, but the group on Yalung Ri should have postponed their ascent after multiple warnings from the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology to avoid high altitudes.

Deadly autumn in Himalayan climbing

This is the 73rd 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. I don’t remember playing with dolls as a little girl. There is not much to remember from my childhood.&nbsp; My responsibilities began at a very young age, as I had two younger brothers to take care of. I was born in Sarlahi, but we moved around quite a bit as my father was in the government and got transferred frequently.&nbsp; From Rasuwa to Dang, from Nepalgunj to Kathmandu. I struggled to adjust in Kathmandu because I joined Grade 9 in the middle of the term. The education was different and fellow students also did not support me initially. But over time, I adjusted and made friends. I did not dream of becoming a nurse. It was by accident. I wanted to pursue medicine, but failed the entrance exam by a few marks. I did not want to lose a year, so decided to take up microbiology instead.&nbsp; I got married after my undergraduate, and my husband encouraged me to take up something more technical like nursing or engineering instead of Masters in Microbiology. As my quantitative background was weak, I chose nursing. I felt like I was born to be a nurse. Juggling my married life and studies was difficult. My teachers would often ask me why I am falling behind. It was not easy, but I managed and took up a full-time job as a nurse. There are challenges being a nurse in Nepal. You are overworked, underpaid, there is lack of appreciation. Superiors can be overbearing. These problems persist. But the bright spot is that you get to serve fellow Nepalis, and be close to your family.&nbsp; Just like I had no intention initially of becoming a nurse, I had no intention of migrating overseas. But life had different plans for me. After my baby boy was born, I noticed that something was off. Even at nine months he had not started crawling or sitting. As a nurse I knew something was wrong, and I took him for check-ups. He tested negative for down syndrome, but he had a heart defect.&nbsp; The cardiologist recommended that I take him to India where he was diagnosed with Williams Syndrome, a rare genetic condition that affects 1 in 10,000 people. It delayed his development. I looked for therapy. It was either not effective, or too expensive. Some schools also refused to admit him, and it drove me to tears.&nbsp; My family members overseas in the UK, US told me to emigrate as there were better facilities for differently abled children. So I decided to apply to the UK. Luckily just then there were calls for candidates under the Nepal-UK government-to-government pilot scheme for 100 nurses. Only 40 met the criteria, and I was one of them.&nbsp; I still remember the day I received the news on the day of my puja. There were people around me, and they told me that it was the result of my fasting and devotion on that auspicious day. Perhaps it was. Life was taking a new turn, and I was happy. I made it to the UK in February 2024 without paying a single paisa to any broker. The G2G scheme was unique as we were treated with dignity and valued for our skills: they covered costs for the ticket and visa, reimbursed us for exams we had taken and costs involved in the preparation and testing of the Objective Structured Clinical Examination were also covered.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071148_dc5a0d0ea3024b34a4f2735754f8eb67a650bc7f61b98c75d589676c65b02a0c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251106071148_dc5a0d0ea3024b34a4f2735754f8eb67a650bc7f61b98c75d589676c65b02a0c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Nurses NT"> </figure>  It was of course difficult to leave my son behind. But I was doing it for his future. I had the option of taking him from the start, but it was a new place and I wanted to be well-settled and knowledgeable about the options available for him before bringing him along. As I packed, he would ask me to take him with me in my suitcase. It did not seem like he was affected by my departure, and it was only later that his teachers said that he would express his feelings more openly at school. He just did not know how to tell me he missed me, and he would tell teachers he was worried I had forgotten him if we did not speak for a day.&nbsp; He missed me, and that realisation made me emotional. But I had to carry on. Life in the UK was difficult in the beginning. Even so, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Fortunately I had cooperative staff who patiently answered my questions. I think I would have been irritated if I were in their place. But they did not seem to mind, and their support and guidance made it easy for me to adjust to the new work environment. APPRECIATION I still struggle to understand the accent of my English patients, and have ask the matron for help. They compliment me on my English, but I can speak better than I understand. The good thing about working in the UK is that you are appreciated for your work, which can be motivating. Sometimes, after a long day’s work you get a message from your supervisor acknowledging your work with a thank you. That’s enough to erase your tiredness.&nbsp; So far I have received 32 WOW nominations which are acknowledgements from patients for a job well done. It can be motivating, especially in the beginning. The main difference between the Alpana who first left Kathmandu for the UK and the Alpana now is that I am a much more confident person. What makes a good nurse? Skills, knowledge and qualifications are of course a given. But mostly, you need humanity. A smiling face. The way you communicate. Your empathy. These attributes can already solve many problems that patients are facing. This is my second time back home in the last 20 months. And this time, I have arranged for my son’s visa. I will go back after Tihar with my son and husband.&nbsp; I am happy, but also a little nervous about what awaits us. What kind of school will I put him in? Will it really be different from schools here? Will his needs be addressed? Will it be like here, or will he be able to adjust?&nbsp; But I am determined to make it work. Success for me would be if he adjusted well and there is a change in his condition. He still cannot recognise alphabets and read words like kids in his age group. Hopefully he will get learning support in the UK. He also has a knack for music, and this is common among individuals with Williams Syndrome. His ears perk up when he hears music, and he takes part in musical events at school. He still does not recognise letters &nbsp;but he uses voice commands to search for guitar videos on YouTube. I will enrol him in music classes, and help him develop this gift. For now, I worry how he will behave on his long flight. He has a short attention span and gets restless. He is also very social and will want to speak with everyone around him, and might irritate fellow passengers.&nbsp; I have already started trying to make him understand that he will need to behave on the flight. He nods in agreement. Let’s see how it goes. &nbsp;

“I felt like I was born to be a nurse”

A month after September’s GenZ movement in Nepal, nurses working in private hospitals took to the streets demanding better work conditions, and salaries equal to what government nurses are paid.&nbsp;
The strike started at Pokhara’s Manipal Teaching Hospital before spreading nationwide, and nurses working at government hospitals joined in.&nbsp;
Nurses at private hospitals are forced to work for far less than Nepal’s minimum monthly wage of Rs19,550 — without overtime, breaks, and other benefits and under physically and mentally taxing conditions. This is driving many qualified nurses to emigrate.
For newly-appointed Health Minister Sudha Sharma Gautam in the interim government, the strike became her first order of business. She met representatives of the Nursing Association of Nepal (NAN), the protesting nurses, and others from the health sector.&nbsp;
An agreement was reached under which private hospitals and medical colleges will pay nurses a minimum monthly salary of Rs34,730. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
“It is a shame that nurses have been working under such exploitative conditions all this time” says Radha Adhikari, at the School of Health and Life Sciences of the University of the West of Scotland. “The agreement is basic, and there is a long way to go to improve their working conditions. But it is a start.”
NAN chair Chandrakala Sharma has said the ministry’s task force to look into working conditions will also look into facilities for nurses in government hospitals.&nbsp;
“We are committed to solidifying the wage agreement by amending relevant laws within this month,” Sharma said in a video posted by NAN on Facebook. “Our movement is not over, we are still protesting and &nbsp;following up with the Ministry.”
NAN issued an ultimatum to the government to implement the agreements within 48 hours. That deadline has now lapsed and the nurses are back on strike. Many of those protesting now accuse NAN of betraying them.
Jyoti Ranabhat of the Nurses Struggle Committee was present in the meeting, but refused to sign the agreement. “It did not address what we were demanding, we will now go it alone into Plan B,” she tells Nepali Times.&nbsp;
Previous grievances of the nurses did result in similar agreements, but private hospitals failed to comply with government’s past directives — most recently the minimum salary and benefit determined by the state in December 2024.&nbsp;
The Nepal Nursing Council says there are 126,580 registered nurses, specialists, midwives, and Auxiliary Nurse Midwife (ANM) professionals in Nepal. Yet, nursing positions at hospitals remain vacant.&nbsp;
The reason for understaffing is a mass emigration of medical professionals, including nurses. Nursing student enrollment is also declining and there is disinterest in a profession that does not afford health workers quality of life, respect, or dignity.
“Our fight is not with the private sector, it is by definition profit-oriented, our grievance is with the state,” says Ranabhat. “The government is responsible to provide us dignity, respect, and fair pay.”&nbsp;
GREENER PASTURES
Poor pay and working conditions are driving doctors and nurses abroad in large numbers in recent years. Many have simply quit the profession, leading to a shortfall in medical professionals. 

The shortage of nurses is a global phenomenon, and countries like the US, UK and Australia have compensated for their own shortage by offering jobs from countries like the Philippines, India and Nepal.&nbsp;
Nepal Nursing Council data shows that outmigration of nurses rose sharply after 2002, and an estimated &nbsp;20,000-45,000 nurses have left since.
“The state’s denial, derision, and disregard of nurses has caused resentment and disillusionment in the community, driving nurses out,” says Ranabhat. “Ultimately, Nepalis will pay the price when there are no nurses left here.”
Many Nepali nurses who have gone abroad are happy with the respect and quality of life in their jobs abroad. But many others face exploitative recruiters in Nepal and employers abroad. Nursing consultancies have mushroomed as nursing colleges struggle to meet demand.&nbsp;
Adhikari herself worked at United Mission Hospital Tansen before moving to the UK 30 years ago, and remembers that working conditions then were much better for nurses.&nbsp;
“Nepal’s health sector has gone downhill since privatisation,” she states. “Medical colleges are only concerned with supplying doctors and nurses internationally, because that is what makes money.”
But once Nepal’s nurses are abroad, there is no guarantee that they will have jobs in the nursing sector. Many find themselves working outside their field of expertise, in hospitality or sales.&nbsp;
“Nepal has become a production hub for nurses, and Nepali nurses have become products for export,” adds Ranabhat. &nbsp;“People might think this will add to remittances, but no one is thinking about what will happen to Nepal’s health sector.”&nbsp;
For many, nursing has become a way out of Nepal rather than a vocation. In 2022, the government signed an agreement with the UK to send Nepali nurses to work there at zero cost, with benefits and protection equal to UK nurses.&nbsp;
The pilot phase was expected to recruit 100 nurses, and applications opened in July 2023, with 45 nurses said to be selected by Britain’s NHF representatives by the end of 2023. Forty-one of them obtained labour permits.&nbsp;
They may be treated well, but the reality of working in the international health sector is not as straightforward.
Radha Adhikari told us from Scotland: “Market saturation, exploitation, discrimination based on race, gender, and foreignness prevent nurses from finding the right, respectful jobs even here. Ultimately, migration cannot be sustainable for Nepal’s nurses.”