<figure><img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8779c7e80680e0737e2jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SONIA AWALE</figcaption></figure>Haphazard urbanisation, a continually growing population and long delays in the finalisation of the Melamchi Project have resulted in an increasing water scarcity in Kathmandu Valley. But these are not new issues. What is new is that they have become the subject of renewed discussion during the Covid-19 outbreak. The state authorities have repeatedly told people over the last few months to reduce transmission of the virus by washing their hands ‘properly’ (michimichi), scrubbing with soap and water. That this is very difficult to do without easy access to water. Also, this new demand for water comes on top of the usual requirement for safe drinking water and water for other household uses. Most residents of Kathmandu Valley own or rent small dwellings, and only a few are able to find the space for a storage tank on the roof, in the garden or underground. More than 70% of the Valley’s population relies on piped underground water sources officially maintained by the local authorities. Just before the monsoon started this year, the Kathmandu Upatyaka Khanepani Limited (KUKL) was distributing piped water once every 11 days. When the monsoon is over in a month the situation will become acute. Last year’s annual report of the agency shows that the average water supply, after deduction of the 20% losses through leakage, is 103mld/day (million litres per day) as against the total requirement of 430mld/day. Kathmandu has only a quarter of water that is needed (see chart). <figure><img width="512" height="408" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8799c7e80680e0737e3jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Source: KUKL 2018-19</figcaption></figure>Kathmandu Valley has been suffering from a shortage of water, especially drinking water, since at least the 1980s, and the situation has been getting worse year by year. Policy-makers, engineers and others consider the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/melamchi-coming-to-kathmandu">Melamchi Water Supply Project</a> as the long-term solution. The project was designed to divert fresh water to Kathmandu Valley from the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/light-at-the-end-of-the-melamchi-tunnel/">Melamchi River in Sindhupalchok District</a> through a 26km tunnel to Sundarijal. Work on the scheme started in 1998 and it is still under construction, having suffered innumerable delays owing to problems with lending agencies, contractors, and corruption, and, most recently an accident in the tunnel that killed two staff.  When completed, the Melamchi project will be able to supply about 170 mld/day of water, but this will not meet even current demand, let alone future requirements. Since the state utility has not been able to meet water demand, people have come to rely on alternative sources, including wells and boreholes. An  increasing number of households now purchase water as a matter of course from commercial water tankers or, for drinking water, buy plastic jars. Some still rely on <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/renew-commitment-to-preserve-ancient-water-spouts,2931">‘traditional’ sources</a>, such as springs, wells and rivers, water spouts or tanks. Many of these underground water sources, however, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/water-of-the-ages/">have been damaged by the development of urban infrastructure</a> and extraction of underground water on an unprecedented scale in the past three decades.  The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nation/water-table-of-kathmandu-valley-falling-fast-recharge-to-replenish,4100">unregulated extraction of underground water</a> by both private operators and KUKL, has lowered the groundwater table. Similarly, new construction has reduced the open spaces that would allow recharge of the water table. One consequence is the destruction or degradation of traditional water systems that have dried up stone spouts and wells that had served the people of the Kathmandu Valley for hundreds if not thousands of years. This water supply system in Kathmandu Valley can be traced back at least to the Licchavi era more than a thousand years. It was not built during a single regime, but gradually improved upon over the centuries. It is only in recent times that it is threatened. <img width="650" height="573" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba87a9c7e80680e0737e4jpeg.jpg" alt="">The major source of water for the stone spouts was the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9129#.X0yYDSgzaUk">raj kulo (Royal Canal)</a> which started from the foothills on the Valley rim, and fed into ponds which stored and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-must-keep-water-on-its-land/">recharged water for the aquifers</a>, which were themselves largely dependent on rainwater. A single stone spout may have had a single or multiple sources of water. Many were fed by either an individual spring or a local aquifer. Some sunken spouts were fed by shallow aquifers using percolated surface water, others were located near or far from a source. A single aquifer might supply water to a single spout, or to multiple spouts serving a number of communities. Water was channelled through burnt clay or wooden pipes to the stone spouts through passages so that the water could flow easily. Most of the stone spouts had a base platform to capture discharged water, and a drain it through the side which served to supply another stone spout downstream, or irrigate nearby farms, before finally flowing into a river.  When the springs and other water sources went dry and the water level in  shallow aquifers went down, the stone spouts also discharged less water or became dry. In this way, a complex and heterogeneous system was gradually developed over the centuries that utilised water from different sources, channelled it, often over considerable distances, and discharged it eventually through the spout, acting as a tap, for use by local communities.Centuries after they were built, water from these sources are still being used by households, hotels, restaurants, factories and tanker operators, for laundry, personal hygiene and cleaning vegetables. Residents fall back on the traditional systems when there is not enough available water from the government piped system. However, the water is not potable anymore.It is late, but not too late, however, to recognise the potential value of these systems with their multiple water sources, complex distribution channels and stone spouts. With proper conservation, they continue to supply much needed water to people of the Kathmandu Valley, in addition to maintaining an important archaeological heritage and the rich cultural associations of these living monuments, particularly for the Newa people whose forebears built them.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RggblppqixsSince people in Kathmandu Valley still use these water sources for cleaning, washing, bathing, irrigation, they could play an important role by integrating them with modern technologies. Water from these historical systems could contribute to a sustainable solution to the Kathmandu Valley’s increasing water scarcity. The first pre-requisite is that there is no interruption in the water’s source, route and eventual outlet at the spouts by new physical infrastructure. An effective system needs to be devised for adequate water storage in reservoirs or tanks to maintain water supply throughout the year. Along with storage, the water must also be treated appropriately. If these prerequisites are met, water from these age-old spouts could be easily accessible, of good drinking quality, and be free of cost. Given the right storage, the spouts can supply water continuously, complementing the official piped water system or public water tankers -- particularly for low income households which cannot afford to buy water.   <figure><img width="1379" height="748" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba87c9c7e80680e0737e5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Iku hiti where water from stone spout is still being used for drinking, bathing, washing and cleaning. Photo: RIISHTA SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>One working example of just such an outlet with a viable storage system is Iku Hiti in Dhobighat of Lalitpur, where water from the sunken spout flows into a storage tank of 80,000 litres operated by the KUKL, and distributed to people in the nearby communities. Shree Krishna Dongol of KUKL says water is distributed to communities every alternate day from 5AM- 6.30AM, in addition to its own supply which is once a week. Water supply is extended to 9AM-12.30 and 2-4PM during the monsoon. The same pipe is used at homes to distribute water from both the sources and the communities pay according to the meter fixed by KUKL at their homes. The management committee also charges Rs5 / jar for those who collect water for restaurants or hotels. Families pay less, and those who live near the area do not pay at all. The money is used for cleaning and maintenance of the stone spout and its premises. The committee is also constructing a separate pond to wash clothes so that the stone spout area can be clean and safe. <figure><img width="1378" height="689" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba87f9c7e80680e0737e6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Washing facility at the Iku Hiti with water from the spout. Photo: RISHTA SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>There are grounds to justify serious initiatives and additional efforts by state and local authorities, non-state entities, private organisations and local communities, to protect, rehabilitate and renew these traditional water supply systems, and to ensure their survival and maintenance, so that they can, once again, meet the needs of the modern residents of Kathmandu Valley. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/positive-alternatives-to-federalism,350">David Seddon</a> has undertaken research and consultancy on development issues in Nepal over several decades.Ranjan Prakash Shrestha, PhD,  has research experience in climate change and indigenous knowledge and practices related to urbanisation and sustainable water resource management.

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Solution to Kathmandu’s water crisis

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIdbmBlnVZI&amp;feature=youtu.beNearly 25 years after it was first mooted, there is light at the end of the tunnel for Melamchi, Nepal’s biggest and most expensive infrastructure project that will pipe glacier water from Langtang National Park to Kathmandu Valley.The $800 million undertaking has been near completion several times, but government interference, corruption and extortion have taken their toll. The headworks construction is now half finished here at Ambathan 70km by road north of Kathmandu where the roar of the Melamchi River drowns out the sound of excavators that will allow the water into the tunnel.On Sunday, the project sent water 800m down the tunnel to its first adit tunnel as a test from the overflow reservoir at Ambathan. At this rate, project officials say the first Melamchi water could flow down to Melamchi by September.  They say 99% of the 26.5km long tunnel and the treatment plants at Sundarijal in Kathmandu Valley are complete.  Kathmandu <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Melamchi-flows-to-Kathmandu,3397">roads have been dug up</a> and used to be <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/page/every-breath-you-take-air-pollution">shrouded in a perpetual pall of dust</a> as new water mains were laid to distribute the water when it arrives. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/melamchi-coming-to-kathmandu">Melamchi not a mirage anymore</a>, Sonia Awale <figure><img width="1580" height="908" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141132/636bac6f9c7e80680e077f30jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>With 99% of the tunnel and the treatment plants at Sundarijal now complete it may be possible to send water to Kathmandu by September. All photos: SURENDRA PHUYAL</figcaption></figure>The new target date for consumers to actually get Melamchi water flowing through their pipes is late 2020, but even that could be delayed due to the COVID-19 lockdown. The Melamchi Water Supply Project is the largest infrastructure scheme in Nepal today, and with a $800 million price tag, including the future extension, the costliest as well. Its 26.5 km long and 3.7m wide tunnel in Phase 1 is the second longest tunnel for water supply in Asia.It is being built with a soft loan from the Asian Development Bank (ADB) and will bring 170 million litres a day to Kathmandu. A proposed Phase 2 of the project could also connect the Yangri and Larke Khola through two more tunnels and nearly triple the daily water flow (see map).The project has been plagued by chronic delays due to <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/issue/350/Nation/13560#.WMEfpPInLK8">political meddling</a>, the 2015 earthquake, the Indian blockade and most recently by the COVID-19 lockdown.  It was 2010 when a Chinese contractor finally started digging the tunnel but could only finish 6.4km in three years. It was  replaced by the Italian CMC di Ravenna company which took over where the Chinese had left off. The earthquake and blockade led to more delays. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dont-wait-for-melamchi-nepal,3765">Don't wait for Melamchi</a>, Tyler McMahon <figure><img width="1641" height="920" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141132/636bac729c7e80680e077f31jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But the project could not meet its completion date of March 2018 because the government cancelled CMC di Ravenna’s contract, reportedly because it refused to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/melamchi-delayed-by-government-extortion/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">pay extortion</a> to bureaucrats in Singha Darbar. China’s SinoHydro then took over, and had been rushing to catch up with the schedule when the COVID-19 lockdown hit.  Contrary to popular belief, the water will not be gushing through the tunnel. In fact, it has a gradient of only 8m between the intake in Melamchi and the outlet in Sundarijal giving it a water velocity of only 0.5m/second which means it will take 45 hours for the water to complete its underground journey.  This is the monsoon, and the water flow in the Melamchi makes it a raging torrent. However, in the dry season flow goes down to 2.4 cubic meters per second (cumec) of which only 2 cumec of water will be diverted into the tunnel. There are 1.5 km of access tunnels located near the intake in Ambathan, in Gyalthum and Sindhu.  On 5 July, the first water was let into the tunnel amidst a religious ceremony. Tiresh Khatri of the Melamchi project said: "This is a milestone, we will be doing more tests and hopefully water will reach Kathmandu by September."However, engineer Shekhar Khanal said there still a lot of unfinished work that will take months. His estimate for water to reach Kathmandu: early 2021. <p style="letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; padding: 0px; border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 11pt; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 15.693333625793457px;">Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/renew-commitment-to-preserve-ancient-water-spouts,2931">Going with the flow</a>, Liew Yu Wei

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Light at the end of the Melamchi tunnel

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121140/636a40469c7e80680e04a60fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="861" height="688"/>On the face of it, when 41% of Nepalis in a public opinion poll say the country is headed in the right direction it could be taken as a decent level of approval of the government’s performance. Indeed, the way the question is framed in the Nepali language gives broad leeway for interpretation: if we should be going north, any course bearing between 270 degrees to 90 degrees would mean we are more or less on the right track.The question was part of a public opinion survey carried out by Kathmandu-based <a href="http://www.sharecast.org.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sharecast Initiative</a> in January among a statistically representative sample of 4,129 respondents in Nepal’s 42 districts. The survey takes the pulse of the nation, showing the general mood of Nepalis two years after local governments took office, and a little over a year after the federal and provincial governments were formed. In all three tiers of government, it is mostly the Nepal Communist Party (NCP) that holds sway – only Province 2 and a handful of municipalities are with other parties.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=26316&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Outward Bound</a><a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=26348&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Survey is wakeup call for Nepal government</a>, Rameshwar BohoraAs with Himalmedia <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/hoping-against-hope-himalmedia-poll" target="_blank" rel="noopener">polls in previous years</a>, the results show that the Nepali people are alert and aware of what is going on – they also seem to be short-term pessimists and long-term optimists. Even if 41% of respondents felt the country was on the right course, a full 27.1% felt Nepal was headed in the wrong direction, and 22.6% were undecided (see chart above).One of the more positive outcomes of the survey was the response to a question on which facilities people have in their homes. The government’s initiatives over the past four decades on safe drinking water, sanitation, rural electrification and infrastructure appear to be yielding results. Well over 90% of Nepalis now have access to electricity and latrines. Three-quarters live near a road, or use gas cylinders for cooking. Although the 74% with access to safe drinking water is still quite low, and only 5% of mountain dwellers live near a black-topped road, overall the country is making progress. Which may be why so many seem to think that Nepal is headed more or less in the right direction.However, there is growing public dissatisfaction with the government: only 4.2% were happy with the functioning of the federal government, 35% were dissatisfied and nearly 61% said they were neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. The greatest discontent is in Province 3 and Far-Western Province. People in the centre and the periphery both give Kathmandu failing grades.People do not seem to have faith in the federal Parliament either: more than a quarter of respondents said they did not trust the legislature, only 7% said they trust it, and 43% were ambivalent. Neither was there much approval of the performance of local governments: more than 26% were dissatisfied, and only 7% satisfied with the way provinces and municipalities were going about their business; 66% were apathetic.Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/himal-poll-expectations,4153" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Great expectations</a>, Editorial<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/himal-media-public-opinion-survey-2015-outcome" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Himalmedia Public Opinion Survey 2015</a>, Ayesha ShakyaThe survey also proves just how important migration for work overseas has become for Nepalis. More than a quarter of respondents said they had a family member working abroad, with the highest percentages among Muslims and Hill Dalits, and in Far-Western Province. Tarai 'High Castes' in Province 2 and Tharu households had the fewest members abroad. Most of the money sent home by overseas workers goes into subsistence (food, clothing, children’s education and medical treatment), and very little of it is invested in land, saved in banks or ploughed into productive sectors.Opinion surveys are a way for a democratic country’s rulers to gauge the public mood between elections. They should also be a wake-up call so course corrections can be made. They are a tool available to politicians, the bureaucracy and other agencies of the state to see if their actions fulfil the aspiration of citizens. Many of these checks and balances in a country are performed by democratic institutions and the mass media, but when the performance of other sectors of the state (legislature, judiciary, executive, bureaucracy and the security agencies) is not at an optimum, opinion surveys directly reflect the public’s frame of mind.It is clear from some of the results of the survey in this edition that citizens’ faith in government is faltering, that a large section of the public does not trust politicians and that they are unhappy with the slow pace of development. Yet, they have not given up hope and hold out the expectation that things will get better. It is still not too late for the NCP government to go beyond slogans, deliver more than rhetoric, and walk the talk.

Can't get no satisfaction

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171152/636937e49c7e80680e03fe66jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="934"/><figcaption>Kunda Dixit</figcaption></figure>Bikash Thapa in Annapurna Post, 24 DecemberJust as the much-delayed Melamchi water supply project neared completion with 90% of its tunnel construction complete, it is once more in limbo. Every politician in the past few years has been promising the citizens of Kathmandu Valley adequate water supply from the project. The deadline has been pushed back repeatedly for the last 30 years, and the latest official completion date was mid-February 2019.The Italian contractor had asked for Rs 1.61 billion compensation for delays caused by the earthquake and Indian Blockade in 2015. A Dispute Resolution Board decided in October to award the contractor Rs 350 million, and to pay the amount by 16 November. But when the money did not materialise, the contractor said it could not continue the work and wrote a letter to the ministry saying it was withdrawing from the project.The talk in the ministry is that Secretary of the Water Supply Ministry Gajendra Thakur and Surya Raj Kandel of the Melamchi Project were ‘bargaining’ with the contractor for kickbacks. Secretary Thakur has a reputation for even forcing subordinates in every ministry he has worked in to pay up to be evaluated positively. The contractor refused to fork out any kickback. Thakur and Kandel then retaliated by refusing to sanction the compensation payment.Thakur even complained to Prime Minister Oli that the contractor was going to flee the country with Rs 2 billion. Oli ordered action to be taken against Cooperativa Muratori e Cementisti di Ravenna (CMC). Italian and other nationals from the project who were going home for Christmas holidays were stopped at the airport and their passports confiscated. Thakur himself accompanied Police on a raid in a hotel in Thamel where some CMC staff were staying.The extortion and corruption of this sordid case is bound to have a negative impact on Nepal’s investment climate, besides further delaying Melamchi. Thakur even called Nepal’s top companies, offering them new contracts to complete the project.The tunnel work is nearly finished, but the headworks construction has not even started, and this will take another year-and-half. Thakur’s plan was to award this contract to someone else, by more than doubling its cost to Rs 4 billion.There is also evidence that Secretary Thakur is working with the knowledge of Minister Bina Magar. It is a shame that a bureaucrat who has left a trail of corruption everywhere he has served should be in charge of a National Pride Project like Melamchi.Corruption in Melamchi is not just corruption, it is a crime against the people.

Melamchi delayed by government extortion

Many of us former Nepal Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) would agree that our time in Nepal changed in significant but very different ways our perspectives on life if not the future paths we chose to follow. Of no one was this truer than Dorothy Mierow. Dorothy was born in 1920, in Colorado Springs. Her father Charles C Mierow was a classics scholar and Latin professor, who served for ten years as president of Colorado College.&nbsp; Dorothy developed an interest in animals as a child, graduated with a BA degree in natural history from Carlton College in 1942, a Master’s in biology from the University of Pittsburgh, and another Master’s in geography from the University of Minnesota.&nbsp; As a young woman, Dorothy traveled with her father throughout Europe, including a visit to ancient Greek ruins, and took a Magellan Tour by cruise ship around the world in 1958.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262" data-rendition-name="original" width="903" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>HOME AWAY FROM HOME: Dorothy Mierow as a college student in her native Colorado.</figcaption> </figure>  She was a college teacher during much of the 1940s, also teaching at a girls’ school in Hawaii. Then back to her native Colorado in 1953, where she became a curator and later director of the Colorado College Natural History Museum. She taught geography classes, and in her free time, Dorothy climbed 22 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. Traveling in India in 1960, Dorothy decided to spend two weeks in Nepal. In late 1961, she filled out an application to join the Peace Corps and specified that she wanted to go to Nepal, ‘because I admired the people so much when my father and I were there on our trip’.&nbsp; Dorothy reached Kathmandu in September 1962 as the first group of American Peace Corps volunteers in Nepal. She stood out from the others: one of the few women in that group, surely the oldest at age 41, a world traveler, and a woman who already had established a professional career.&nbsp; One doubts if Dorothy had had a husband and children whether she would ever have gone to work and spend much of the rest of her life in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515" data-rendition-name="original" width="1259" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="How th Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life NT"> <figcaption>Pokhara Bazar in 1962.</figcaption> </figure>  The Peace Corps assigned Dorothy to teach geography at Tri-Chandra College. After the school closed in the winter due to lack of heating, USAID and the College of Education asked Dorothy to help train general science teachers.&nbsp; She taught for two months and became involved in a textbook-writing project, commenting: ‘I would like the children to know something about public health, conservation (the trees are going fast and so is the soil), and learn the names of some of their common birds, trees, and flowers. They are more impressed with electricity, airplanes, and cell structure.’ When a new college opened in Pokhara in 1963, Dorothy was transferred there and lived with a Nepali family. The college boasted 30 students and no permanent buildings.&nbsp; In October 1963, Dorothy wrote: ‘Pokhara is a town of almost 5,000 people … We are in a fertile valley surrounded by foothills … There is a small Mission Hospital … a Leper Hospital and Tibetan Refugee Camp started by the Red Cross and now run by the Swiss. With winter approaching, more Tibetans are appearing in town, often with pack horses or donkeys. Some have been carrying large boxes of powdered milk,donated (by USAID) to the camp from the airport … There is no electricity, and the transportation problems make many items scarce and expensive. I am really a sort of a museum. The landlord brings all kinds of people in to see how I live and count my shoes and dresses. They express amazement at my books, pictures, tin oven, Nepali dolls from Kathmandu, screened food shelves and curtained closet.’ The standard term for Peace Corps volunteers was two years, but Dorothy extended her term and was still at Prithvi Narayan College at the end of 1965, when she wrote that she had 20 Geography students in the first-year class and 6 in the second year preparing for the IA Examination. The college enrollment was 125 students, and the foundation for a new science building was being excavated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow and friends at Phewa Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy noted that she ate one meal a day at the (Shining Mission) Hospital but otherwise lived on dal-bhat, momo, and potato curry at local shops. However, she had developed a new passion: to build what she initially called the Pokhara Museum of the Himalaya. In commendable Peace Corps fashion, Dorothy always worked with Nepalis and respected the culture. ‘The greatest joy and satisfaction I have had has been from the building of a Museum-Library in memory of my parents … It has been possible to feel like a wealthy benefactor with the money saved by father for the family’s education and now available for the education of others… (Father) would have loved to be in on the founding of a new college and be able to plan a library. Several hundred of the books to be in the museum-library came from his collection and were carefully selected to be of use for students in Nepal…’&nbsp; ‘The museum part is to satisfy my own inclinations and was thought of when I found how little diversion there was for the people of Pokhara… It is part of the University requirements for the college that it should have a geography and biology museum. The museum building is small but adequate.&nbsp; I have tried to design it in harmony with Nepalese architecture and decorate it with some of the art of the best artists or woodcarvers… Posts holding up the porch roof are carved by Cottage Industries to represent different peoples of Nepal in typical costumes. The door was carved by a local wood carver and has typical birds of Nepal around it. Inside are 10 roof-support carvings designed by the retired Director of the National Museum in Kathmandu, Mr. C.M. Maskey.&nbsp; They were carved by the best wood carvers in Patan very skilfully. The building has three rooms: the library, the exhibition room, and a smaller workroom which can be used by our newly formed Woman’s Club as well as other groups or classes.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8" data-rendition-name="original" width="629" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow with local women in Pokhara in 1969.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy promoted her project to influential Nepalis connected with organisations whose support she solicited: The Department of Archaeology, the Department of Agriculture, the Godavari Botanical Gardens; Tribhuvan University’s Science and Education Department, Nature Conservation Society.&nbsp; The museum was opened officially in early 1967. The Annapurna Natural History Museum, the building Dorothy designed and had constructed, is still open and features some exhibits which she created many years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>The Annapurna Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy returned to America in 1967, but she longed for Nepal. In the spring of 1969, she again tried to enroll as a Peace Corps volunteer but was told that as she had spent more than four years, she would not be eligible for another assignment. Undeterred, she persuaded the college in Pokhara to invite her to return as a teacher.&nbsp; UNICEF and the Forestry Department sponsored Dorothy to prepare charts on trees, birds, animals and flowers in colour for distribution to the schools of Nepal. Dorothy, back in the Peace Corps, returned to Pokhara and the Museum in 1972. She formed a friendship with her former geography student from Sikles, Chandra Prasad Gurung, and in 1974, she brought Chandra to America, where he enrolled in Colorado College and studied cultural anthropology.&nbsp; Chandra subsequently earned his PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii and returned to Pokhara to become director of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project. Gurung actively promoted ecotourism, landscape conservation, and biodiversity conservation in Nepal. His life was cut short along with those of 23 other Nepalis and foreigners who perished in a helicopter crash near Taplejung in September 2006.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow's four books on Nepal and its biodiversity. </figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy worked with several well-known Nepalis to publish her paintings and photos in beautifully illustrated books. She and Hemanta Mishra of the National Parks and Wildlife Service wrote Wild Animals of Nepal (Ratna Pustak Bhandar, 1976). More than 400 photos Dorothy took on treks to the Everest region, Gosaikunda, Muktinath, Jumla and Rara Lake, as well as travels in the Tarai, appeared in Himalayan Flowers and Trees (Sahayogi Prakashan, 1978).&nbsp; The botanist Tirtha Bahadur Shrestha identified the species. Dorothy and Kesar Lall published This Beautiful Nepal (Sahayogi Press, 1981). Birds of the Central Himalayas (1988) contained Dorothy’s paintings of 250 species of birds found along the areas of the Kali Gandaki River, Pokhara, Chitwan and the central Tarai. Dorothy summed up her life and work in Nepal in Thirty Years in Pokhara (Pilgrims Book House, 1997). Dorothy returned to Pokhara and her adopted Gurung family several times during the 1980s and 1990s to celebrate festivals and meet old friends. Her final years were spent at her mountain cottage in Green Mountain Falls north of Colorado Springs. She died at the age of 79 in August, 2000. Nepal gave new meaning and purpose to Dorothy Mierow’s life. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. The author thanks Special Collections, Tutt Library, Colorado College.

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

· On the night of 15 May, two glacial lakes burst in Tharka in Humla and the debris flow washed away homes and bridges.&nbsp; · Last week, a slurry surge on the Kali Gandaki in Upper Mustang caused at least Rs15 million in damage, and was traced to a melting glacier. · Dozens are feared dead after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">an expanding glacial lake in Tibet overflowed</a>, sweeping down into Nepal and damaging four hydropower plants generating 230MW, nearly 8% of the country’s total grid supply.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2667" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Rasuwa flood"> <figcaption>Miteri friendship bridge connecting Nepal and China was swept away in the Rasuwa flood. Photo: PRAKASH CHANDRA TIMILSENA / NPL</figcaption> </figure>  And those are just in the past month. Climate scientists say Himalayan glacial lake outbursts are becoming more frequent and destructive, and a warning for Nepal not to put all its eggs in the hydropower basket.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">Record precipitation last September</a> unleashed floods that killed 200 people, and temporarily slashed Nepal’s total generation capacity of 3,000MW by nearly half. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">Melamchi flood of 2021</a> caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">permafrost melting</a> on a glacier upstream nearly destroyed a $800 million water supply scheme, Nepal’s largest infrastructure project which four years later still has not resumed full operation. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">glacial lake overflow in Sikkim</a> caused by record rainfall in September 2023 that destroyed the $1.2 billion Chungthung Dam and caused catastrophic damage to infrastructure on the Teesta River. This was a warning to the cascade of hydropower plants on the Arun and Marsyangdi river basins.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="549" loading="lazy" alt="hydro disasters and hydropower plants"> </figure>  Nepal has set a target of generating an additional 28,500MW by 2035 -- out of the feasible 48,000MW -- but how viable is an energy strategy that is exposed to heightened risk due to climate breakdown? &nbsp; “As extreme weather events increase, we must design and build infrastructures respecting river flow and topography,” says former Energy Secretary Dwarika Nath Dhungel. “We must make the best use of our water resources, but not by letting excavators loose everywhere mining riverbeds and building haphazardly where we shouldn’t.”&nbsp; Although no project can be disaster-proof, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">climate smart design</a> can minimise damage from flash floods and landslides. Recent disasters have driven up insurance premiums for energy projects in Nepal, and smaller ones cannot even afford them. The 456MW Upper Tamakosi hydroelectric project which is still not fully functional after the September floods has claimed insurance worth Rs1.8 billion. The alternative to high risk high investment hydropower projects is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">energy diversification</a> to other renewables such as solar, wind or biogas. Nepal gets annual sunlight of 300 days with 6-7 hours on average to total 50,000 terawatt-hours (TWh) per year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="solar power"> <figcaption>Farmers in Tarai using solar powered water pump. Photo: GHAMPOWER</figcaption> </figure>  The Solar and Wind Energy Resource Assessment (SWERA) calculates that Nepal could source 3,000MW from wind energy alone, considering 10% of the area with more than 300W/m2 wind power density. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Solar energy</a> stations are cheaper and quicker to build, and would be an ideal alternative to reliance on hydropower.&nbsp; “There has been some investment in solar power, especially from the state sector,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “But there is an issue of land acquisition since the arrays need a lot of space. It is comparatively easier to get a permit to put up a hydropower plant on a river.” As for biogas, there is simply no incentive to build on past success with household level plants to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">promote industrial-scale production</a>. Scaling up biogas by integrating it with urban biodegradable waste would still be a viable alternative to LPG.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684" data-rendition-name="original" width="1419" height="954" loading="lazy" alt="windmill"> <figcaption>A wind mill in Hapsikot in Nawalpur. Photo: WINPOWER NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s public sphere is buzzing with excitement over the discovery of potentially 430 billion cubic metres of methane gas beneath Dailekh district that, if properly harnessed, would meet the country’s energy demand for the next 50 years. Even though a feasibility study is awaited, politicians from the prime minister down see this as a petro bonanza that will make Nepal rich. But drilling, storage and distribution of CNG in the country’s current kleptocratic state make that unlikely. If Nepal was to get rich solely on its hydro-energy potential, it could have done so in the past 50 years. Says Dhungel: “This is not exactly a new discovery, but it is premature to celebrate until its extraction is proven to be cost effective. And let us hope it does not get <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/balance-of-power">tangled in geopolitics</a>, since China is involved in the prospecting and drilling, which could make India uneasy.”&nbsp; The country suffers from the Dutch Disease curse even before its resource is fully exploited. And the same cronyism, corruption and rent-seeking structure cannot deliver the riches we expect from Dailekh’s methane discovery. Now, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">with hydropower in jeopardy</a>, Nepal’s planners will have to evolve a new strategy for energy security into the future. But first, governance needs to be cleaned up with long-term strategic planning that takes climate risk into account. For example, do we need to mine fossil gas when there are renewable options? Will Dailekh take Nepal away from its climate commitments? Says Madhukar Upadhyay: “Nepal has always been resource rich and management poor. And the larger the resource, the bigger our management incapacity. It is a societal malaise.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s Resource Curse

चौतारा rest stops have long been an integral part of scenic touristic town of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-six-decades-ago">Pokhara </a>but are now rarely seen as the city bursts at the seams. They say inhabitants of Pokhara saw a plane before they saw cars. Indeed, the grass airfield was built in the 1950s, while the Kathmandu highway 20 years later. Before roads, people walked to get around, pausing to rest or even nap under the shade of banyan-pipal trees. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-s-desperation-and-hope">Pokhara airport’</a>s ‘terminal’ in those days was a shady chautara where passengers waited for their flights. The chautara bore silent witness to daily life, whether it was travellers seeking a brief respite from the summer heat or villagers gathering for a chat in the mornings and evenings. But with the roads came vehicles, and then houses started filling up spaces, even farmlands. Pokhara began transforming from a serene village to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-comes-alive-at-night">bustling city</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2147" height="1581" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  The banyan-pipal trees were chopped down to make way for wider intersections and buildings. The once-iconic rest stops that carried Pokhara’s identity had all but vanished. “Building chautara was once considered a religious duty, which is why so many of them were constructed across Pokhara,” says archivist Sunil Ulak. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, a Japanese Buddhist monk, who visited Nepal 120 years ago en route to Tibet, documented <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-visitors-in-pokhara-to-admire-view">the landscape of Pokhara</a> and its surroundings. In his book, Three Years in Tibet, he reflects on the natural beauty of the town and its shady trees. A chautara used to be surrounded by ponds, where shepherds would bring their cattle to drink from while they took a nap under the shade. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze lent a soothing melody as did the chirping of birds, while the insects took refuge in the branches and leaves. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-800-years-ago">Pokhara 800 years ago</a>, Kunda Dixit This ‘nature’s breeze’, as botanist Kalyan Panta puts it, is now history due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">haphazard urbanisation</a>. “When the wind strikes against one leaf, it creates a domino effect and other leaves start waving as well,” he explains. There were 632 chautara in the city until 1977, and by 2000 the number had fallen to 278. But in some wards the number of trees fell from 55 in 1984 to only five now.&nbsp; The gradual loss of these resting places has meant habitat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">destruction of birds and insects</a>, it has also damaged the environment and natural beauty of the city.&nbsp; Researcher Jagannath Adhikari’s study showed that infrastructure projects ignored the environment, and concluded that that urbanisation in Pokhara was unsustainable.&nbsp; The destruction continues to this day. Recently, old chaurata in wards 6, 13 and 14 were cleared to make way for a sacrificial ritual. In fact, ward 6 got a permit from the local government to clear its remaining trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  But in wards 13 and 14, the Human Service Foundation cut down some 33 trees for which it is in a dispute with the metropolitan city as there is no unclear jurisdiction regarding who gives the permit. The Kaski Division Forest Office is currently investigating the matter. Elsewhere in ward 19, the ward office had launched ‘मेरो रूख, म काट्छु’ campaign due to an alleged chaos caused by monkeys in the area. The decision was rescinded after an all-around opposition.&nbsp; To be sure, there are policies in place to protect trees such as the Gandaki Province Forestry Act, 2080, and the Regulations, 2081. The province government also introduced an act in 2019 per which no tree, including pipal, silk cotton and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/trees-trees?%2F">trees of natural and historical importance</a> shall be damaged, eroded or removed. But the local government, responsible for implementing the Act, is doing the opposite. “If this rapid rate of tree felling continues, neither trees nor chautara will survive for the future generation,” conservationist Ram Bahadur Poudel tells us, adding that old trees are being cleared under the pretext of pruning branches. Interestingly, Ulak notes that Pokhara-8 was called सिमलचौर in the past because there were so many majestic silk cotton trees, but there are very few left, if any, and hence altering the identity of a place. With modernisation, people have questioned the significance of chautara in this day and age. But they still have relevance. Urban centres in Pokhara and Kathmandu are much hotter than the outskirts because of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">urban heat island effect</a>. Says archivist Ulak: “While their original purpose was to provide rest, today they continue to play a crucial role in regulating temperature, beautifying the city, and preserving our environment.”

Trees of life and living

Nepalis are living longer than ever. By 2028, the country is set to join the ranks of other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">ageing societies</a> around the world, and by 2054, 1 out of every 7 people in Nepal will be over 65. Life expectancy at birth has risen dramatically from just 55 in 1990 to 71 today, &nbsp;thanks to improvements in public health and access. But as more people live longer, the country must also prepare for a parallel rise in age-related illnesses and the complex social and medical needs that come with an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">ageing population</a>. Extended families have always acted as a safety net for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/home-sweet-home-for-older-nepalis">the elderly</a>, with children and grandchildren shouldering most caregiving duties. But with more than 1,600 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Nepalis migrating </a>every day, older parents are left behind with no one to care for them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">Remittances</a> from migrating youth, which account for nearly a third of Nepal’s GDP, have kept the economy afloat. But money sent home cannot make up for the chronic departure of kin and caregivers, who are often the first to catch the signs and symptoms of disease in elders. In rural areas where over 85% of Nepal’s elderly live, the absence of this daily vigilance means early signs of illness often go unnoticed until they become debilitating. As a result, chronic conditions like hypertension, diabetes, and depression are left unmanaged.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="701" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Geriatric medicine is largely absent from medical curricula and there is no national plan in place to manage cognitive decline, memory loss and confusion. These are often mistaken for signs of normal ageing, instead of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dementia-brings-new-problem-that-families-have-little%20knowledge-of,2151">dementia</a>, delaying care until it is too late. The same pattern plays out with strokes, osteoarthritis, and vision problems — conditions that could be managed early but are instead allowed to spiral into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-disability-to-this-ability-h68f6sq2">disability</a>. Nepal is not ready for an older future. It needs a strategy for ‘smart ageing’ where the focus is not adding years to life, but enhancing years lived through the intelligent application of policy, infrastructure, and crucially, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a>. Many models of smart ageing, however, are sculpted around modern societies where independent living in later life is the norm. Furthermore, eroding traditional family care and an underdeveloped formal care system means there is a large gap that can’t simply be filled by copy-pasting from foreign models. Nepal must shape its own version of smart ageing. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes?%2F">tech boom</a> has led to homegrown digital healthcare apps such as Hamro Doctor, Cura Health, Jeevee and Health Yaad Ayo which offer teleconsultations, online appointments, and at-home test bookings. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-new-digital-landscape">smartphones and internet access</a> extend to the most rural fringes of the Nepali countryside, geography is no longer a barrier to the use of these digital tools. What limits their use is the lack of digital proficiency among the older generation. Others find the idea of turning to a device instead of a familiar, reassuring face unfathomable. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">digital literacy</a> efforts must be paired with guided human support to build trust alongside technical skill. Such a model of community-led digital mediation is already gaining traction elsewhere. In the UK, ‘digital health ambassadors’—often young people or even schoolchildren—are trained to co-design and advocate for online platforms that resonate with peers who might otherwise feel excluded from automated health services. A Nepali version could engage cohorts of nursing students, tech-savvy youngsters and returnee migrants to assist elders in navigating digital health platforms and troubleshooting problems, and most of all, normalising the idea of health apps being a reliable recourse.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2246" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Nepal’s own network of Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), whose credibility is rooted in long-standing relationships across rural communities, could be similarly upskilled, their roles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">maternal and child health </a>expanded and repurposed to also include geriatric tech support. However, there is a limit to how much older adults can adapt to new technologies. So, Nepal should simultaneously invest in passive technologies—tools that monitor and act for the elderly, instead of demanding active use. That is where wearables and in-home smart health devices collectively known as 'gerontechnology' come in. Picture an 82-year-old in far-flung Rolpa, away from the facilities of an urban hospital. Installed in her home are low-cost motion sensors that monitor prolonged inactivity or signs of a fall, instantly triggering alerts to the nearest health post when necessary. On her wrist, a wearable bracelet continuously tracks her sleep, vital signs, oxygen saturation, and glucose levels. This data is encrypted and synced to a digital dashboard accessible by health staff at the local post. If the system flags an acute risk—such as a potential stroke or hypoglycemia—a nearby health worker is dispatched immediately to her home. If her readings over time indicate a trend toward a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure">chronic condition</a> like diabetes, community health volunteers step in. They help schedule a virtual consultation with an endocrinologist in Butwal. Based on the advice received, she gets a prescription and picks up her medication from the local community pharmacy, along with a smart dispenser to ensure she sticks to her treatment plan without missing doses. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. Many of the individual devices forming this connected medical system called an Internet of Medical Things (IoMT) already exist in Nepal as imported commercial products. What is missing is a stronger framework for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/public-health-partnership">public-private collaboration</a>: one where health tech companies continue developing locally adapted tools, and the government actively integrates these innovations into public health delivery. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">Nepal’s tech ecosystem</a> is maturing, but policymaking must evolve in tandem, especially when it affects an older generation largely resistant to change. The backlash against the recent mandate requiring National Identity Cards for accessing social security benefits revealed the pitfalls of imposing top-down reforms without adequate preparation or support for seniors. For Nepalis to age well, community caregivers, doctors, innovators, and above all, the state, must step in where families have stepped away. The goal is not to replicate traditional care, but to build a coordinated system of support that connects everyone through technology. The future is older for Nepal, let us be wiser too. The writers are pursuing their undergraduate studies in biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

drinking-water