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

original

610x380

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

thumbnail

viewImage

Why Nepal is stuck

Despite the contemporary narrative that Nepalis are giving up on their country and are migrating in droves, a recent public opinion poll shows that nearly half the Nepalis are still positive about the direction the country has been going since the last election in 2022. Asked if they feel that the situation has worsened, improved, or remained the same in the past two years, 45.4% of the respondents in the nationwide survey said they were satisfied about the way Nepal is headed. Of them, 13.9% of respondents said they were ‘significantly positive’, while 31.5% said they were ‘somewhat positive’ about the situation in Nepal over the past two years. Although 34.6% of those answering the question believed that the socio-political situation in the country was ‘unchanged’ since 2022, Sharecast Initiative in its analysis of the results, said there was ‘a notable sense of optimism about the current state of affairs’. Even so, about 18% felt the situation was either ‘significantly negative’ or ‘somewhat negative’. And most respondents (35%) felt there had been no change in the country’s situation in the past two years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241201111212_f1ec1009533e9c1e6847672142da4688694159bb5ff0e5dc9088007cb6d995a1.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241201111212_f1ec1009533e9c1e6847672142da4688694159bb5ff0e5dc9088007cb6d995a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1192" height="1030" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis not so unhappy"> </figure>  “If we count those who say ‘no change’ as not being satisfied and add that to those who had a negative view of the way the country is going, then we have 55% of the people not happy,” says Madhu Acharya of the research organisation Sharecast Initiative Nepal, which conducts annual public opinion polls. Still, 45% of the people being positive means the national mood is not as pervasively cynical and despondent as Nepal’s public sphere believes it is. Even more unexpected, and also contrary to prevailing perceptions, is that disaggregated data of the responses showed that the level of optimism is highest among young Nepalis, especially women. It was also higher, not surprisingly, among those in the higher income brackets. A higher percentage of female respondents (15.6%) thought Nepal’s current situation was ‘signficantly positive’ while only 12% of males felt that way. More men (11.5%) also had a ‘negative’ view of the past two years, compared to only 7% of women feeling the same way. Provincewise, most of those surveyed in Bagmati and Gandaki said there had been no change, while in the Madhes Province respondents held strong views with 26.5% saying they were ‘signficantly positive’ and 15.7% feeling things are ‘signficantly negative’ — both positive and negative responses were higher in Madhes than any other province. Because Nepal’s migration pattern is blurring the lines between city folk and those residing in villages, the level of positivity was at equal levels in both urban and rural areas of the country, with nearly half the respondents in both areas feeling ‘somewhat’ and ‘significantly’ positive about their circumstances. Literacy appears to play a significant role in determining satisfaction with the state of affairs. Generally, those with higher education were happier than those with less education. Illiterate respondents had the most negative view about their status. Even though understanding among media commentators is that Nepali youth are frustrated and cannot wait to leave the country, the survey showed that 54% of those in the 18-24 age group were either ‘somewhat’ or ‘significantly’ positive about the state of things. In general the older people are, the less happy they seem to be about the way things are. The survey results showed that even though those with higher incomes are generally more satisfied, one-tenth of them felt ‘significantly negative’ about the way things are going in Nepal. The scientific poll was conducted face-to-face earlier this year among 4,267 respondents from all seven provinces and three ecological zones. Nearly 70 supervisors and enumerators fanned out across the country to interview Nepalis selected by domicile, gender, walks of life, socio-economic strata, ethnicity in the ratio of their representation in the population. Most Nepalis see progress in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/beijing-30-zak6iu1w">gender equality</a>, but cite problems: 1. Violence against women 2. Lack of say within households 3. Political representation 4. Societal restraints  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241201111224_faf741ca7a1187cb971b468eca573c8c3ee756f585d6a72e0dc1bd99114f4088.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241201111224_faf741ca7a1187cb971b468eca573c8c3ee756f585d6a72e0dc1bd99114f4088" data-rendition-name="original" width="6720" height="4480" loading="lazy" alt="gender equality"> </figure>  As the world marks 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence from 25 November–10 December, a recent public opinion poll in Nepal has shown that both men and women respondents place ‘safety from violence’ as their number one concern. Asked ‘What are the primary issues facing women in Nepal today?’ more than one-third of the respondents felt it was safety and security. Both genders – and especially younger respondents -- identified protection from violence as the main problem facing Nepali women. Geographically, people in Bagmati, Sudurpaschim and Madhes prioritised safety as of women as their main concern.&nbsp; Societal restraints against women was seen as the second-most important problem, especially in regions of the country considered to have more entrenched patriarchal norms like the Karnali. ‘Lack of household decision-making’ was the third main issue respondents said women in Nepal face, and this was especially pronounced in rural areas. It could be a significant pointer to the feminisation of Nepal’s hinterland, with the outmigration mainly of young men from households.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241201111216_79f09832d11b27679a1cbeb8a8f9189d28afdd3b91a52df4c143d876e23d06f8.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241201111216_79f09832d11b27679a1cbeb8a8f9189d28afdd3b91a52df4c143d876e23d06f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1420" height="858" loading="lazy" alt="gender equality in Nepal"> <figcaption>All graphs: SHARECAST DATA INITIATIVE, THE STORY KITCHEN</figcaption> </figure>  This was among seven questions asked in a recent nationwide survey ‘General Perceptions of Gender Issues in Nepal’ by Sharecast Data Initiative and the Story Kitchen. The poll was conducted by enumerators in face-to-face interviews with 4,267 respondents selected for a balanced representation of Nepal’s population.&nbsp; In answer to questions if Nepal has been making progress on gender equality, most respondents had positive outlook about female representation, constitutional and legal safeguards and cultural norms. Asked about Nepal’s socio-political and cultural changes affecting women, nearly 62% had a positive response while about 15% said they had noticed no change and about 16% said the country was moving in a negative direction. Younger respondents of both genders, urban residents and those with higher education and income levels tended to have a more optimistic view about socio-political and cultural changes that affected women.&nbsp; In response to a question about new constitutional and legal provisions safeguarding women’s rights and gender equality, nearly three-quarter of respondents (both men and women) felt they had benefited women. Only about 10% felt the laws had negatively affected women.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241201111216_b359ef289ca228753e83564c3d5a278c650aa8a13dff93a2d49fffff7305646c.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241201111216_b359ef289ca228753e83564c3d5a278c650aa8a13dff93a2d49fffff7305646c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1212" height="804" loading="lazy" alt="gender equality in Nepal"> </figure>  Again, it was younger men and women, city-dwellers and better educated people who were more optimistic. In its analysis of the results, Sharecast says: ‘However, there are areas of concern, particularly among less educated and lower income groups, indicating a need for targeted interventions to address these disparities.’&nbsp; In response to the question about which areas Nepali women have not yet received equal opportunities with men, a surprising 35% said they could not answer, while 20% felt there was no inequality anymore.&nbsp; But among those who said there was inequality, the highest number (12.8%) said it was within in the household. Almost as many cited unequal representation in politics, while education, high-paying jobs and protection from violence were also of concern to respondents.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241201111220_59198bf078425a63f4a27fe6f6910170fd22ded6da77824de2bdd3c5ebbb337a.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241201111220_59198bf078425a63f4a27fe6f6910170fd22ded6da77824de2bdd3c5ebbb337a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1430" height="928" loading="lazy" alt="gender equality in Nepal"> </figure>  More men (16.3%) cited unequal political representation, while only 9.5% of women respondents felt that was an issue and they pointed to not having enough say within the household (13.7%) as their main concern. Asked about the problems faced by Nepal’s men, the highest number of respondents (27%) said men had ‘no problems’, and a significant number (14.4%) said they had no idea. Most of those who chose to answer (15.4%) said it was lack of jobs and wages.&nbsp; To a question about the problems faced by adolescent girls and boys, substance abuse and mental health topped the list (22.7%), while violence against girls (21.3%) and education came next. Nearly 30% said they didn’t know or couldn’t say.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241201111220_a5ea2454f1462a05a50730a51450ffe99b06b53f58bf5e3db3414ca14338cabf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241201111220_a5ea2454f1462a05a50730a51450ffe99b06b53f58bf5e3db3414ca14338cabf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1710" height="1050" loading="lazy" alt="gender equality in Nepal"> </figure>

674x448

500x500

1250x600

1084x550

Nepalis not so unhappy

More than 2.5 million Nepalis left the country just in the last three years to study and work abroad. In the past year alone, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/push-factors-driving-nepalis-out">nearly 900,000 students and migrant workers flew out of Kathmandu airport</a>. These figures do not include those who crossed over to India.&nbsp;
There were, of course, returnees in that period, but it is estimated that up to 16% of Nepal’s population at any given time is outside the country. Most of them are 20-35 years old, which means an estimated q<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">uarter of all Nepalis in that age group are abroad</a>.&nbsp;
It is mandatory for students going overseas to get a certificate from the Ministry of Education, and last year alone 112,593 were issued -- nearly double the pre-Covid figure (graph, below).
Before leaving, Nepali students officially exchanged Rs117 billion last year into hard currency to pay for their education costs. The actual figure through unregulated channels is probably higher.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="MORE NO OBJECTIONS" aria-label="Column Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-OBL1y" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/OBL1y/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="600" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script>All graphs: RAMESH KUMAR</div>
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="$ in, $ out" aria-label="Column Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-gUPnY" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/gUPnY/4/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="600" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
Meanwhile, the 4 million <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/the-migration-myth">Nepali migrant workers</a> in Malaysia, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, UAE, Kuwait, Korea, Europe and elsewhere sent back through banking channels Rs1.47 trillion in remittances ($11 billion) last year. Actual figures are higher.
“The great irony is that while poorer Nepalis toil in the Gulf and Malaysia to increase our foreign exchange reserves, middle and upper class families are exchanging a part of that money to pay for college fees, travel and medical care abroad,” points out migration researcher Ganesh Gurung.
The numbers going to Australia and Canada dropped last year because of visa restrictions. But that has been more than made up by a 30% uptick in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas">Nepali students</a> going to the US (11,261) and UK (13,339) compared to last year.
But by far the largest number of students are going to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-nepalis-are-flocking-to-okinawa">Japan</a> (34,731) which is also an increase of 30% over the previous year (map, below). Numbers going to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/yo-man-ta-mero-nepali-ho">South Korea</a> doubled in one year to 6,889.&nbsp;
Nepalis go to 66 countries for higher studies, with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/looking-for-the-nepali-dream">Denmark</a>, Finland and France becoming more popular, although the numbers are still much lower than the top six.
Till recently, Nepalis were the third largest number of foreign students in Australia. They were number three also in Canada. Nepalis were among the top ten in the US.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="TOP 6" aria-label="Grouped Columns" id="datawrapper-chart-mbIyZ" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/mbIyZ/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="496" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
It is no secret that many young Nepalis leaving on student visas <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-certificate">intend to emigrate permanently</a>.&nbsp;
Countries in the Global North experiencing declining populations know this, but find it a convenient way to allow controlled entry for much-needed workers in the service or tech sectors.
“Many young Nepalis plan to settle in first-world countries eventually, or to return only after 10-20 years,” affirms migration expert Ganesh Gurung.&nbsp;
“Destination countries benefit too, they are getting a new generation of cheap labour without having spent anything on raising or educating them. What’s more, they also earn university fees. It’s a way for them to allow calibrated migration,” he adds.
Nearly half the students coming out of 10+2 schools opt to go <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Between-the-lines/More-Nepali-students-settle-overseas,528">abroad for higher education</a>, leading to a significant drop in college enrolment across Nepal.&nbsp;
Just like migrant workers are a safety valve that lets the government off the hook from providing jobs at home, students going abroad allows the state to dodge its responsibility to improve higher education quality here.&nbsp;
Indeed, some argue that better universities and colleges in Nepal would not lessen the exodus of young Nepalis, because many of them intend to emigrate for good.&nbsp;
“Yes, student visas have become a means to an end, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/hardworking-students">the goal is to work and settle</a>,” says Narottam Aryal of King’s College in Kathmandu. “But more alarming than the figures of students leaving is that we are taking it so casually, calling it normal."&nbsp;
He adds: “Let us not worry about people who will leave anyway, but focus on the students who will stay if Nepal’s higher education is system is redesigned, repurposed and reformed to foster an entrepreneurial mindset so they benefit the country.”&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Where We Went" aria-label="Map" id="datawrapper-chart-edwh9" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/edwh9/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="550" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div>
The method of education in state-run colleges and universities are still stuck in the era of rote learning taught by under-motivated teachers using outdated curricula, regurgitating memorised answers at exam time. The university environment is politicised and there are frequent disruptions with delayed exam results.
One way to change this is twinning with international universities, but for this there has to be a less xenophobic and transparent government machinery that is open to new methods.
“Accreditations, partnerships and exchanges with institutions around the world will open up opportunities for students,” says Aryal. “The government should welcome foreign universities, they will force us to raise the standard of our education.”
Information technology and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/grass-is-greener-overseas-for-nepals-doctors">medicine</a> are among the most lucrative options for Nepali students abroad. Institutions of higher learning in Nepal itself could specialise in inter-disciplinary liberal arts, social studies, agriculture and the environment, public health, hospitality, or heritage studies.&nbsp;
Youth are also leaving because there is no guarantee of jobs even when they get a higher degree here. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/brain-drain-into-brain-gain">The informal sector</a> is still the biggest employer, and job options in private companies and civil service are limited.&nbsp;
Ganesh Gurung says the education sector must adapt to the changing labour market such that Nepal produces skilled human resources in the areas with high demand like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nursing-grievances-against-the-state">nursing</a>.
He adds, “The focus must be on our strengths. The economy can be revived by making the best use of Nepal’s natural beauty to generate jobs in the hospitality industry, and turn it into a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/go-away">destination for international retirees</a>.”&nbsp;

Sonia Awale

Brain gain into brain drain

After graduation Danber Maden was working as an accountant and in his spare time practising his passion for sketching. Wanting to adapt his talent to digital design, he joined a new course at Bhanu Jana Secondary School here. Today, Maden is a mentor for new students at what has become the IT Academy, Taplejung. The 24-year-old is now juggling various online design gigs with companies worldwide, and earning much more than he did as an accountant. “I’m learning 3D design and motion graphics, animation from YouTube,” says Maden, sitting in the spacious Academy on the grounds of the secondary school. Light-coloured walls, extra high ceilings and a wide wooden staircase give the building a bright touch. Nearby is a group working area fronting the wood-panelled Pernille’s Coffee Bar. It is named after Pernille Madsen, founder of Human Practice Foundation (HPF), a Danish NGO that has been supporting schools and their communities in Taplejung since 2017.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240728130728_9c530879e791f54e0ea3de2c78efe7cf68add4935b663f7f7b2dc1e52ce0dd71.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240728130728_9c530879e791f54e0ea3de2c78efe7cf68add4935b663f7f7b2dc1e52ce0dd71" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="IT Academy Taplejung NT 3"> <figcaption>Photo: MARTY LOGAN</figcaption> </figure>  Launched in 2014, HPF also runs programmes in Denmark and Kenya.&nbsp; Donor Waldemar Schmidt says he and his Academy co-founders wanted to give students at HPF-supported schools in the district another option after graduating.&nbsp; “Some years ago I started thinking, ‘what happens to the children when they leave the school? Have we done the job of giving the children a better future’? The simple answer was ‘no, I don’t think we have—we need to do more’,” he says in a Zoom interview from Denmark. The Academy opened in November 2023. To date, 61 students have graduated and 14 are working online, says Bhanu Jana’s head teacher Kishor Kumar Rai. Some are working for companies in Singapore, Denmark and South Korea.&nbsp; “They are earning more money here than doing other work so they are happy to stay in Taplejung,” adds Rai. “The Academy will stop migration and also the brain drain of youth.” A new, six-month session on graphic design and digital marketing started in June. Besides the technical component, students also learn the skills needed to become successful online freelancers, such as writing offers and negotiating contracts.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240728140712_918f5db890b05fe967117391d621bce6eafc41652323ec4eb3f8782a4f300bcc.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240728140712_918f5db890b05fe967117391d621bce6eafc41652323ec4eb3f8782a4f300bcc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1010" height="556" loading="lazy" alt="IT Academy Taplejung NT 2"> </figure>  By 2028, HPF aims to have graduated up to 800 digital workers in courses that include web development and cyber-security in Levels 2 and 3. Graduates of Level 1 will need to pay tuition for advanced courses and prove that they are already earning as freelancers, explains Schmidt. “We don’t want to be known as a place that does a bit of everything. We want to build a brand which is very strong in graphic design and cyber security,” he adds. A former CEO, Schmidt knew HPF founder Madsen from the corporate world. Today he is the driving force behind the IT Academy, as quick to recite the latest facts and figures as he is to share a vision for the next decade. Schmidt estimates that after graduating from Level 1 students will have the potential to earn $500 a month, compared to the $200 locals make working in banks and other offices. After taking Level 2 and 3 courses in graphic design and cyber security, earnings will rise to $1,000-2,000 monthly, he predicts. &nbsp; HPF now subsidises tuition, leaving students to pay 15%, or about Rs 5,000, of the cost of the courses. Schmidt says donors in his personal network have covered the remaining amount (about $500 per student) for the first 100 students this year. For the next session he hopes sponsors will chip in $1,500 per student, enough to also buy each one a laptop. An enthusiastic, well-connected former CEO, the 84-year-old Schmidt has also called on his network to take on graduates in their firms as interns, and convinced WorldLink to provide the Academy with fibre-optic Internet at no cost. Developing students’ skills so that they are competitive globally will also happen gradually, says Schmidt, in part because of English-language skills. In the beginning, the Academy will focus on work experience in Asia. Already it has arranged virtual internships in companies in Singapore, Vietnam and Indonesia. The Academy’s 10-point manifesto is also training women students who can continue working as freelancers while raising families. Women make up 60% of students, and head of the Academy Basanta Palungwa says female students design more creatively, in part because they are more patient.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024072814074_ab971ae77232481761249c23b7e88584ac303fa39fb448ddbaf9b9fde0676f86.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024072814074_ab971ae77232481761249c23b7e88584ac303fa39fb448ddbaf9b9fde0676f86" data-rendition-name="original" width="2290" height="1407" loading="lazy" alt="IT Academy Taplejung NT 1"> </figure>  The Academy also aims to digitise and engage the community in this remote corner of north-eastern Nepal. Plans include a course for the general public on using smartphones and tablets, and WorldLink will soon install wifi hotspots. Also in the planning stage is vocational training for those who are not inclined to IT. HPF-supported secondary schools in Taplejung are graduating about 1,000 students a year, but the IT Academy will be able to accommodate less than half of them. Says Schmidt: “They may be frustrated because they’ve been to a good school and they see no future after graduating, so we need to make sure that there’s a link to the labour market.” After graduating, Danber Maden’s freelance work now includes four hours daily for Bookmundi, a Denmark based travel agency. After interning there for one year he was recently promoted to Junior Graphic Designer.&nbsp; For the past year he has also been designing social media posts for GenX Pharmacy, an online business based in Kathmandu. And he has local clients, including candidates who ran in the last elections. The local boy seems to have found his niche online. Asked what he sees himself doing in 10 years, Maden responds confidently: “Senior designer or art director.”

Going global to retain local talent

As the well-known adage goes: you can choose your friends but not your neighbours. There is no alternative to learning to live together. Relations between neighbours in a housing estate or nation states is (or should be) dependent on long term bilateral interest, not instantaneous calculations. Nowhere is relations between nations become more of an everyday issue than in the borderlands. And how multidimensional relations between countries are managed and nurtured should be the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/learning-rubbish-memorising-gibberish">message in school textbooks</a>. Afterall, the foundations of knowledge and values are laid in school and in the books used to teach them. In most countries the content of textbooks is determined by the state, in fact it is an official document reflecting a country’s position on various facets of citizenship. Textbooks determine a person’s views on a cross border state.&nbsp; I have recently been leafing through the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/delay-dilute-deny"> Social Studies textbooks</a> for Grades 9 (pictured, below) and 10 published by the Ministry of Education, Science and Technology’s Curriculum Development Board at Sano Thimi. Imagine my astonishment when in the Grade 9 chapter on ‘Nation and Nationalism’ was this sentence in the section titled Border Security (translated from Nepali): ‘An open border opens up the possibility of increased human trafficking and drug smuggling. In fact, an open border can poison relations between people and even lead to war.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240717080732_a0492a1be8aaa76b0a90985f0c8ebf85874f53fd9e328d09aef9b614aa29cb84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240717080732_a0492a1be8aaa76b0a90985f0c8ebf85874f53fd9e328d09aef9b614aa29cb84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1074" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali textbook social studies NT"> <figcaption>Social Studies textbook for grade 9.</figcaption> </figure>  Similarly, a section titled ‘Nepal’s Friends and Agencies’ talks about Nepal being a landlocked country situated between India and China, &nbsp;without indicating that these two neighbours of Nepal are global economic heavyweights. Whatever the text book may say about the dangers of an open border, all <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/barbwire-borders">national frontiers should be as open as the one between India and Nepal</a>. Nepal has had a similar open border with Tibet for centuries.&nbsp; Officially, a country’s relation with its neighbour is marked by when diplomatic relations were established. But there is no such date with which we can pinpoint how long Nepal’s relations with India and Tibet (now an autonomous region of China) has existed. Nepal’s school textbooks fail to impart on students the importance of the country’s relations with these two vast and powerful neighbours. Instead of establishing a narrative that an open border is the ultimate symbol of strong and close ties between countries, Nepali textbooks give it an unhelpful negative connotation. By contract, Nepal’s trans-Himalayan border with China is limited and controlled. Citizens of both countries need passports and visas to enter the other. From time to time, some Tibetans do enter Nepal bypassing official checkpoints.&nbsp; The Nepal-India border on the other hand is open because of mutual agreement, friendship, good neighbourliness, religious and cultural diversity, social cohesion, family relations, and common geographical features on both sides.&nbsp; These economic, cultural, political and historical aspects of the open border should have been incorporated into Nepal’s text books. On the other hand, the books should also have explained the reason why the Nepal-China border has not been open since the annexation of Tibet 65 years ago. The content of the Social Studies text book reflects state neglect. A border is not the result of the wishes of a country on one side, it is the common meeting point of nations. Because the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/lessons-not-learnt-homework-not-done">examination system </a>requires students to memorise and regurgitate content of textbooks, a teacher cannot deviate from what it says even if it is incorrect. A secondary school teacher regards the textbook as the curriculum. A text book’s content therefore does not just impact the point of view of students, but also teachers. More than disinformation on social media, it is the half-truths and false notions in text books that are more dangerous. In fact, textbooks read like the declaration of the political party in power. This is a result of the curriculum drafters not being inclusive and representative of Nepal’s diversity.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-exceptional-buhari">The Exceptional Buhari</a>, Sudeshna Thapa This can bring about a tectonic shift in the thought process of young Nepalis, evoke a sense of animosity towards neighbours and ‘others’. In a country where political polarisation, ideological divide is already wide, such assertiveness by the dominant community can be sensitive.&nbsp; Textbooks cannot be propaganda, they cannot be a vehicle to establish a political narrative. They should heal and unite. Students need to learn and understand <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-love-triangle-with-china-and-india-impacts-investment">Nepal’s fragile geopolitical circumstance</a>, and not be exhorted to rock the boat. There is a common socio-cultural milieu that is transboundary because of our shared history and politics. Nepal’s youth need to have a moderate and balanced view of the history, geography and cultural links of the borderlands so they can contribute to cooperation and coexistence.&nbsp; Chandra Kishore is a Birganj-based media commentator and writes this monthly column Borderlines for Nepali Times. @kishore_chandra

Chandra Kishore

Textbook case of bad textbooks

Humla is in the remote northwestern corner of Nepal. And in a remote corner within Humla district is Limi Valley. Culturally, linguistically and even geologically, this is the Tibetan Plateau, and Limi’s 2,000 inhabitants are facing the threat of cultural erosion and outmigration of its young people. Now, however, local schools are trying to change that by ensuring quality education not only so that local children do not have to go to faraway boarding schools, but also to attract students from other parts of Humla. The Aatmiya Shree Sunkhani Basic School in the village of Halji has Tibetan language classes and tries to instil pride in students about their local culture. It has also invested in better dormitories and other facilities so the school does not have to close in the winter months because of the extreme cold there at 3,700m elevation. Following the construction, the school hopes to revamp the quality of instruction, and change the focus of curriculum to address the challenges of heritage loss and outmigration. Limi Valley is the location of the 1,100-year-old Rinchenling Monastery and represents the cultural soul of Upper Humla. It has enormous potential for pilgrim tourism because of the proximity to the sacred Lake Mansarovar and Mt Kailash across the border in China. Limi has three villages: Til, Halji, and Zhang, and they each had a school till five years ago but they closed down because of lack of students. The valley is only accessible by crossing the 5,000m Nyalu Pass, and its extreme remoteness translates into isolation, lack of jobs and opportunities. Most young people have migrated to Kathmandu, or to Purang across the border in China. What is left in Limi are the elderly, and children separated from parents. “Only grandmothers are left in the community,” says Anjila Thapa of Aatmiya. Humla’s children are growing up in Kathmandu or abroad and losing touch with their culture. Aatmiya is a Nepal-based sister organisation of CITTA, a non-profit seeking to bring healthcare, education, and economic development to the most remote and underserved communities in Nepal and India. It was founded by American artist Michael Daube, whose love for anthropology and Buddhism led him to work in the region. CITTA runs a Women’s Economic Development Centre, hospitals, and schools in Jaisalmer and Odisha in India, and also manages a hospital in Sindhuli. Aatmiya (which means ‘intimate’ in Nepali) was started in 2011 as a public-private partnership under which there are government teachers as well as those supported by the project. Earlier, schooling was not much more than “kids teaching kids”, says Daube, and government teachers were unwilling to travel to such remote parts of Humla and were mostly absent.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240616020616_4b1ba2f6d9f351d4d4e1b50607e1df85a2221444b0bae2b0eb5d1fcd7e865d75.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240616020616_4b1ba2f6d9f351d4d4e1b50607e1df85a2221444b0bae2b0eb5d1fcd7e865d75" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Limi Humla school"></figure>  Their unfamiliarity with the local language and culture also meant that schools were actually the reason for cultural erosion. Now, with its Community Centre housing for teachers and a free hostel for students, parents can feel more confident in their children’s education and accommodation year-round while keeping them in Limi. “Earlier, people in surrounding areas used to say Limi was poor and backward,” says Ward Chair Paljor Tamang. “Now, people say that if the school provides teachers and opportunities, children will come from other parts of Humla to study up here.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240616020616_23d9bf409f31a8d3ed559aa3ff2b11d0b8f7b315904242d1c9f20880503e3cb0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240616020616_23d9bf409f31a8d3ed559aa3ff2b11d0b8f7b315904242d1c9f20880503e3cb0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Limi Humla school"></figure>  The school, centrally located in Dalji, is set to be inaugurated in September, with the construction of the site's main building nearly complete (pictured above). Even so, the push factors driving young people away may be too strong to halt outmigration. “Construction and hardware won’t bring students back,” admits Anjila Thapa, who wants to start additional teacher training before classes begin. The school is adding Tibetan language teachers, and Aatmiya also plans to introduce fellowships focusing on extracurricular activities and a holistic education. CITTA Country Director Sanjeev KC says the school’s success will not just be measured in maintaining student numbers, but increasing them by attracting those from the community currently studying in faraway Kathmandu. “Within the next five years, we hope to have 70 or 80 students,” says KC. “We identified the gaps in education and worked with the community to understand their needs. That is why we pooled our resources for a centrally located school.” There is now a need for a high school till SEE level, and the goal is to make its present Grade 7 the first graduating class. Daube wants Aatmiya to be more than just a school, but an effort to preserve the culture and local economy. The organisation recently began working with local women to produce and internationally market shuktu, traditional woollen blankets. When the Limi Valley School opens in September, it aims to prove that modern education and cultural preservation can go hand-in-hand. “Of those who have left Limi, many still own land and farms here”, says Tamang. “With adequate facilities and opportunities, we may see them return”.

Saving Humla from heritage loss

Aliya Bashar finished up her Grade 6 class exams and swiftly walked over to a room next door at her Kanya Mandir Secondary School in Kathmandu. Other students join in and together they offer namaz. This is an important time of year for Bashar, not only because of her annual exams but also because of the holy month of Ramadan. "It is a relief not to have to rush home for prayers at 1 pm," Bashar tells us later. "The school provides a space for namaz, making it easier for us to focus on exams." With a week left for the end of Ramadan, Muslims eat before dawn and fast throughout the day with afternoon prayers at 1pm. They break fast with a collective iftar feast after sunset. Recognising the challenges of its Muslim minority students, Kanya Mandir School provides a dedicated space for them to offer prayers immediately after the exams.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240402120448_48e2571556490b496061569a30d8935a7d358b2647feb0935d09cfbe2fb53cc4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240402120448_48e2571556490b496061569a30d8935a7d358b2647feb0935d09cfbe2fb53cc4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kanya Mandir Secondary School"> </figure>  "Having a prayer room makes everything easier,” says Salma Khatun, a Grade 8 student. "And the school also allows us to dress in clothes we are comfortable in.” The school’s inclusive environment has helped students like Bashar and Khatun thrive. They participate in sports wearing the hijab, something not possible at many other schools. Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-column/moving-to-the-mainstream">Moving to the mainstream</a>, Chandra Kishore Jasmin Shaikh in Grade 7 says she faces no hate and discrimination at school. “Students of all religions are treated equally here,” she says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240402120448_7d674a06c7ebaf6e5a35f8d19595b55a9f5710bee41fb2243abd9a54a24422d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240402120448_7d674a06c7ebaf6e5a35f8d19595b55a9f5710bee41fb2243abd9a54a24422d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kanya Mandir Secondary School"> </figure>  Muskan Khatun says being allowed to wear the hijab in class makes her feel safe and supported. Khatun who is originally from India says she feels a sense of belonging at the school. “There are no restrictions here, even the school feels like home,” she says, smiling. The Kanya Mandir School’s commitment to inclusiveness extends beyond Ramadan, and extends to the cultural practices of students from all faiths, including Hindu, Buddhist and Christian.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240402120448_e2f7573555a66f363ec2927588488ac85b97bbf0d36fa5f95140eeb833c6ac73.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240402120448_e2f7573555a66f363ec2927588488ac85b97bbf0d36fa5f95140eeb833c6ac73" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kanya Mandir Secondary School"> </figure>  "The hijab does not hinder the students in any way," says Assistant Principal Bhagwan Babu Adhikari. “In fact, our top performers are girls from the Muslim community." The welcoming environment has boosted the school’s appeal, and some 245 of the 1,170 students at the school are from Nepal’s Muslim minority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240402120448_47c4d1d60e34acf8be892a28a643edb4eebb0f8b6d3c2887396072705dc2adcf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240402120448_47c4d1d60e34acf8be892a28a643edb4eebb0f8b6d3c2887396072705dc2adcf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kanya Mandir Secondary School"> </figure>  "School is where children develop compassion, tolerance, good behaviour," says Principal Ghanashyam Neupane. "We are simply trying to create an environment that fosters these values."&nbsp; This approach promotes respect for different religions, cultures, and traditions, inculcating a sense of camaraderie among students when young, he adds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240402120448_b14ec82030a573a5bf31ed7d4d2bdb8e46568c9fcd3020686261057632b1c014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240402120448_b14ec82030a573a5bf31ed7d4d2bdb8e46568c9fcd3020686261057632b1c014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kanya Mandir Secondary School"> </figure>  Nepal’s Tarai plains bordering India where there are more Muslims have more traditional madrasa schools which focus mainly on religious studies. Students say they prefer mainstream schools so it helps them get into good colleges.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepali-muslims-on-the-margins">Nepali Muslims on the margins</a>, Prakriti Kandel Not all madrasa have Nepal’s educational accreditation, and this limits career options for students. Many Muslim girls prefer public and private schools, but not all have a welcoming environment like Kanya Mandir.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240402120448_0cca122211c649b5c57cdad51fbbd2bc41d63abf55dbbd7f2007b21a93873d68.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240402120448_0cca122211c649b5c57cdad51fbbd2bc41d63abf55dbbd7f2007b21a93873d68" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Kanya Mandir Secondary School"> </figure>  "We must uphold the constitutional rights of every child and ensure schools become inclusive spaces," says Seema Khan of the Muslim Mahila Kalyan Samaj. “They should follow Kanya Mandir’s example and adopt an inclusive education policy that reflects Nepal's rich social tapestry."

Inclusiveness not just theory in this school

Thick-framed glasses, a wide nose, and a bushy salt-and-pepper mustache. A front curl peeked out of his cap if he missed his haircut. He wore a full-sleeved shirt and cotton trousers.
His appearance was unremarkable, lacking the fashion sense of the stylish Dharan people of the day. He seemed like a tired, middle-aged man by the end of class, covered in chalk dust. He was easily overlooked until he spoke English because his English was impossible to ignore.
This man was dealing with a significant issue. He wanted to teach English in English, while we students preferred learning English in Nepali. His pronunciation was different from other English teachers, causing students to struggle to understand him. They started calling him Thoo Sir because they heard ‘to’ (/tu:/) as ‘thoo’ (ठू), but no one knows who first started this nickname or when it began. No one knew where he acquired his accent from, either.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/class-differences">Class differences</a>, Rabin Giri
Every morning, the bus would drop him off at Ghopali Tol from Dharan around 9AM, and he would walk 12 minutes to school from there. Students would have to interact with him in English or listen to a kind of English they could not understand.
I had heard his infamous nickname long before I attended Thulo School, the only secondary school in the village, after passing out from the primary Sano School.
He never inflicted any physical punishment on us, however his frustration was harder to handle. He would say things that friends could use to mock and tease fellow classmates.
Students would dread his presence in the classroom because unlike other teachers who would read slowly and explain in Nepali, he insisted on speaking English correctly and would not let us off the hook until we did so as well.
I only had him as a teacher in my Grade 10 class, and I remember being late on the very first day. "Mai commin, Sir?" I asked from the door.
"Ask properly," he replied, without even looking at me.
I asked again, but he continued cleaning the blackboard without paying any attention to me.
"Sir, Mai commin?" I changed the word order.
"Repeat after me," he instructed. That day, I learnt for the first time that 'Mai commin' was actually 'May I come in?'
"You don't even know basic English? Silly girl!" he said, and of course, my friends teased me for a long time about that.
His dissatisfaction with a student’s pronunciation silenced the class. While I was usually vocal and asked questions in other subjects, I could not utter a word in his class for fear of being ridiculed again.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/lowest-common-denominator">Lowest common denominator</a>, Editorial
I would formulate questions in my mind but struggle to voice them. Sometimes, I would start in English and end up speaking in Nepali, which would upset him even more.
He would not engage in conversations in Nepali, preferring to explain things in English. His excessive use of English gave us all chronic headache.
One day, in the middle of class, I asked in Nepali, "Thoo Sir, my pad is leaking. I will go home, change, and come back in five minutes."
"What did you just say?" he asked in English, lowering his reading glasses, revealing a pair of tired eyes, and a bruise on the bridge of his nose caused by the weight of the frame.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month">Sanitary napkins</a> were not yet available, so we sisters would have to run to my nearby home to use one of our mother's old cotton saris as pads. But these were not absorbent enough for heavy bleeding. There was no door or roof in the school toilet, making it impossible to change at school.
I never felt embarrassed about asking to be excused, and neither the teachers nor students used to make a big deal out of it. Since he had responded to my Nepali, I assumed his 'WHAT?' was in response to my request to go home to change my pad.
I repeated my request, this time to assure him that I would return in exactly five minutes. But his "What did you just call me?" was actually about my publicly addressing him as “Thoo Sir”.&nbsp;
My bench-mate Bishal tried to warn me to keep quiet. But I continued, "Thoo sir. Everyone calls you Thoo sir behind your back. Don't you know?"
"I know but no one said it to my face before."
Quickly correcting myself, I said, "BB Sir, please allow me to go home. I won't address you as Thoo Sir anymore."
"Thoo Sir again," he chuckled, lightly tapping my head with the book in his hand. "Go on, run!"
All these years later, I realised that it took a lot of effort for him to respond the way he did. Unlike other teachers who only focused on the top students, he would treat all students equally, change the seating arrangement, shifting students from the front to the back.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/learning-rubbish-memorising-gibberish">Learning rubbish, memorising gibberish</a>, Yugottam Koirala and yugeshwor Koirala
After leaving school and moving to Kathmandu, I began learning English and found the language fascinating. It took years to overcome my hesitation, but I eventually understood why Thoo Sir insisted on teaching English in English. I wished he had been more creative in making us appreciate the language and understand its importance.
We used to believe that Thoo Sir had the best English in the world and was forcing fluency on us when all we needed was 32 marks to pass. There was not much interest in learning English in those days.
Thoo Sir was ahead of his time in grasping the importance of a global language. He knew there was a world beyond our village of Madhesha and the SLC exams. He was not interested in our exam marks, he only wished us to understand English in English. And today, I am glad we had Thoo Sir as our English teacher.
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Her previous column was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/the-thappad">Thappad.</a>
&nbsp;

"Mai commin, Sir?"

This piece is not about Tapasi Pannu’s Bollywood movie, Thappad. But the echo of that slap from childhood still echoes in my ear.&nbsp;
It was the first and only time my father ever laid a hand on me. It could happen again, since Nepali parents have a tendency to believe that no matter how old you are, you are always a child. They can hit you even in your 30s.&nbsp;
My father, a retired high school principal, seldom raised his voice at us while we were growing up. His silence and stern gaze were nevertheless frightening to us youngsters, and struck fear in our hearts.&nbsp;
As children, we never dared speak to him directly. Our mother acted as an intermediary, even in trivial matters like buying a ball-point pen for Rs4.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepali-students-underperform">Why do so many Nepali students underperform?</a>, Anita Shrestha
This was the 1990s, and we all excelled in studies. We were disciplined children who never uttered a curse word. We respect our elders. We were the epitome of well-behaved children.
So imagine our shock when I was subjected to physical punishment from my father for the first time. And it all had to do with my use, or misuse, of the English language.
We started learning English in Grade 4. I had topped not only my &nbsp;class, but the entire school. I could recite what was on any page in my text book. I had a photographic memory.&nbsp;
I excelled not only in academics, but also in General Knowledge. I could rattle off all the countries of South Asia and their capitals and heads of state.&nbsp;
My sister and I were the only two students in our class who had mastered the multiplication table up to 20. One day, our primary school principal announced that only students who knew the table up to 20 could go home, while the rest had to stay back and keep learning until they did. My sister and I found ourselves waiting until evening for our classmates to catch up.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality">After quantity, Nepal's education need quality</a>, Prakriti Kandel
I was 9, and also starting to learn to spell simple English words. I took immense pride in my progress because my grandfather did as well. However, it wasn't enough for my father.
That day, I was doing my English homework, while my father and his colleagues were engrossed in a political conversation. One of his colleagues suddenly asked, "Which grade are you in?"
"Fourth," I replied proudly.
He continued, "What is your roll number?" (Ah, the roll number, a prestigious measure of talent in those times.)
"One," I answered confidently.
He then asked me to recite the multiplication tables for 7, 9, 13, 17, and 19. Which I did, and I noticed my father’s eyes gleaming with pride.
My father’s other friend was also interested and asked me what I was writing.&nbsp;
When I responded “English”, he asked me to write out the lowercase alphabet — widely regarded as the more challenging aspect of English writing. I guess he was trying to confirm if I truly deserved the Roll Number 1 position.&nbsp;
To everyone's surprise, I swiftly wrote out the lower case alphabets from a-z. Satisfied, he was about to return to the political conversation when my father abruptly asked me, "Can you spell 'dog' for Uncle?"
“I can,” I said. “D-O-G,”
"And how about 'god'?" my father pressed on. I spelled god, and everyone was impressed.
Then my father asked me to spell ‘bag’. In those days, children attending <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/ministry-of-education-gets-an-f">government schools</a> in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-marginalised-on-the-margins">rural Madhes</a> had to carry our books cradled in our left hands. Sometimes, they held the books tightly against their chest with both hands, like parents carrying a child.&nbsp;
School bags were fancy and rare. Only private school students had bags. You could be sure a student carrying a school bag, wearing shoes and a tie would be attending a private school.&nbsp;
I had never carried a school bag, and did not know how to spell it. I looked up at the ceiling and squirmed, and my father’s eyes widened. The lines on his forehead showed disappointment.&nbsp;
It must have been less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity. The more time I took, the more they saw me as unworthy of having Roll Number 1. To escape my predicament, I blurted out: “B-O-G."&nbsp;
That was it. My father rose from his stool and slapped me on my face. No one stopped him. His colleagues tried to console me by urging me to study harder.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/learning-rubbish-memorising-gibberish">Learning rubbish, memorising gibberish</a>, Yugottam Koirala and Yugeshwor Koirala
I was in shock. I had never imagined that my father would ever hit me. The slap did not just hurt me physically, but left a deep emotional scar. I fell ill with a fever that evening, and everyone knew the reason.
No one said a word to my father. My grandfather consoled me, but said that I needed to study even more diligently. As if I had not been studying diligently before.&nbsp;
I have hated the English language ever since. I never dedicated myself to learning English properly in class. And I hated English even more after we had Thoo (ठू) Sir. But that is a story for some other time.

Anbika Giri

The Thappad

Flipping through the pages of the government textbook for Grade 7 Nepali, one comes across this baffling paragraph which would be funny if it were not so serious:&nbsp; An elderly couple live in a village. They bear a son in their old age whom they name Balram. When Balram grows up to be a young man, the couple decide to get him married. The wedding is a grand affair. Balram’s wife is exceptionally beautiful and his parents are ecstatic about having found such a beautiful buhari. However, the sasura, curious about her intellect and disposition, decides to test her. So he calls her in and asks her, ‘Buhari, can you tell me how much you think we spent on your wedding?’ Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/learning-rubbish-memorising-gibberish">Learning rubbish, memoring gibberish</a>, Yugottam Koirala and Yugeshwor Koirala Red flags go up all over that paragraph that serves as the story's exposition. But wait, things get even more interesting:&nbsp; &nbsp;The buhari replies, ‘I think you must have spent only about 2-3 manas of rice grains’. Offended by these words, the sasura retorts as he fumes with anger, ‘Your wedding cost me a fortune, and you’re saying 2-3 manas of rice grains is all that was spent? You make it seem like I incurred no expenses’. In what sounds like a line lifted right off of a hammy Indian daily soap, the sasura then goes on to say, ‘I don’t even want to look at your face anymore. Go back to your parents’ house right away! There is no place in my home for a buhari like you’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230925090916_76578a0ecf3c35d2bdeff79022ed048c5bcfeed57a9cfd4b618c5d33c62f2783.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230925090916_76578a0ecf3c35d2bdeff79022ed048c5bcfeed57a9cfd4b618c5d33c62f2783" data-rendition-name="original" width="1311" height="463" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali textbooks"> <figcaption>The story in the government textbook for Grade 7 Nepali.</figcaption> </figure>  Although aghast at her father-in-law’s response, the buhari does not utter a word. The dad-in-law, on the other hand, is determined to send her off to her parents’ house. The two then embark on a journey to the buhari’s parental home. As the plot thickens, it is revealed that the buhari has a special ability, thanks to which she can communicate with animals. Along the way, the sasura-buhari hear a wolf howling. The sasura does not think much of it, but the buhari knows exactly what the wolf is ‘saying’. The wolf's words translated are too bizarre to ideate. It says, ‘There is a corpse buried right here. If someone were to dig it up, I could feed on it. There’s a diamond ring on one of its fingers. I’d give the ring to whoever digs up the corpse for me’. Upon hearing this, the buhari thinks to herself, ‘If only I could lay my hands on that ring. My sasura will never believe me if I tell him about this. Oh, what a fix I am in!’ Soon, the sasura-buhari decide to make a pit stop under the shade of a banyan tree, and the sasura dozes off as he rests. The buhari then sneaks off to the spot where the wolf had been howling and starts to dig. Unsurprisingly, she unearths the corpse, presents it to the wolf, and takes the diamond ring on the body's finger. Not only are readers confounded by the sheer absurdity of the plot of this 'story', but it must be hard for young Grade 7 readers (or even their teachers) to shake off the macabre mental image it projects in the mind. Aside from a blatant disregard for the concept of dignified treatment of the dead, this story actually presents grave robbing as a perfectly acceptable thing to do.&nbsp; This is not all. The buhari then goes on to dig up some more valuables after a crow tips her off. The sasura is delighted to have come upon so much wealth because of the buhari. Subsequently, she also hands the diamond ring to the sasura and tells him all about how she found it. As you may have guessed, the sasura is now in awe of the buhari and regrets ever having doubted her. Having had a change of heart, he decides not to take the buhari back to her parental home. &nbsp; The story drags on as the sasura continues to ask the buhari random questions to test her wit till he is convinced of her ‘intelligence’ and ends with the sasura ‘entrusting’ the buhari with all his household responsibilities as he is finally impressed with her. What is a student to learn from the protagonist’s attitude towards his daughter-in-law? Will the story leave a child assuming it appropriate for a man to ask his daughter-in-law how much he must have spent on her wedding? Will a child be able to question why such an enquiry on the part of the father-in-law is even relevant? Will a seventh grader who reads the story consider it a man’s prerogative to ‘send his daughter-in-law off’ to her parents the minute he feels offended? What is a girl child to make of the portrayal of the buhari in the story? Are they to think that there is nothing wrong with assuming that a man is entitled to ‘test’ whether his daughter-in-law is good enough for the household?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230925090920_7a8bef87e71b1ce652247b916eaa4d0e1addfb882b53dcbfad2bf39c5693805c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230925090920_7a8bef87e71b1ce652247b916eaa4d0e1addfb882b53dcbfad2bf39c5693805c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="500" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali textbooks"> <figcaption>Government textbook for Grade 7 Nepali.</figcaption> </figure>  Is it only after she proves her ‘worth’ that a woman is acceptable to her marital family, even if that means digging up graves to bring in wealth? Oh, by the way, where was the woman’s husband while all of this transpired? Even if the author who wrote this story thought it would be an appropriate example to teach children they should not be too quick to judge a person, didn’t a single person who reviewed this story to decide whether it should be part of the school curriculum find the details in the story in the slightest bit objectionable?&nbsp; It is worth noting here that the line-up of authors and reviewers featured in the preface of the textbook in question is predominantly male and all from the dominant ethnic group. Perhaps objections were raised to the content of the book, but they were overruled? Either way, this and many other examples warrant a closer assessment of the government’s school curriculum development system, particularly the process of reviewing and screening content to ensure it is conducive to children’s overall social and emotional development in addition to helping enhance creative and analytical skills. It is crucial for those who design Nepal's school curricula to be mindful that the content of textbooks can solidify gender and social stereotypes in young minds and shape how people perceive and interact in society. If we are to envisage a future free of gender bias and social inequality for Nepal, school textbooks may be a good place to start. &nbsp;&nbsp; Sudeshna Thapa is a human rights lawyer and researcher. thapa.sudeshna@gmail.com

The Exceptional Buhari

Fenerbahçe Beko won the Turkish Airlines EuroLeague finals in Abu Dhabi, held 23-25 May, defeating Monaco 81-70 in the final. Olympiacos, who defeated Panathinaikos 97-93, finished the series in third place. The Most Valuable Player (MVP) of the final match, Nigel Hayes-Davis from Fenerbahçe Beko, received a prize of 1,000,000 Miles&amp;Smiles from Turkish Airlines’ Chief Commercial Officer Ahmet Olmuştur. The carrier has been the title sponsor of the Turkish Airlines EuroLeague, a top tier tournament, since 2010.

Turkish Basketball

Thousands of Nepali students dreaming of an American education have been forced to look elsewhere as the Trump administration’s visa restrictions make their future uncertain.
The US was long considered a top destination for higher studies, making Nepal the 10th biggest country of origin for international students in America.&nbsp;
However, that number has seen a significant decline with the total for Nepali students now at 16,482. Some 8,000 Nepali students obtained no-objection certificates to study in the US from the Ministry of Education in the past year.&nbsp;
India, Australia, Canada, South Korea, United Kingdom and Japan are the other popular destinations for Nepali students. There are no clear numbers for Nepalis going to India, but a slight decline was noted this year after the deaths of two female students.
The US State Department has issued a circular to its embassies not to issue new visas to applicants until further notice. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio in the directive stated that the department planned to expand the screening of applicants' social media.&nbsp;
While new applicants are barred including those applying for visitor visas, students with scheduled interviews are allowed to proceed.
“Many of our students are affected by the new restrictions, but those who had applied for student visas earlier have got interview dates,” one Kathmandu-based college counsellor told us.
Meanwhile, even foreign students with spotless records already in the US have not been spared, as visa scrutiny intensifies under the new policy. In a move that underscores the growing sense of insecurity, many US colleges advised international students to carry their passports and documents at all times, even when traveling locally.
“Me and my friends did not go home this summer because we were not sure we would be allowed back, so we just went to Niagara Falls,” said a Nepali undergrad in Ohio, who like many interviewed for this report did not want her name used for fear of repercussion.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="MORE NO OBJECTIONS" aria-label="Column Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-a7y6L" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/a7y6L/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="600" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r,i=0;r=e[i];i++)if(r.contentWindow===a.source){var d=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";r.style.height=d}}}))}(); </script></div>
Nepali students have adopted a cautious stance, with many choosing not to return home during summer vacation due to fear of visa revocations as well as travel bans. Meanwhile, over 7,000 Nepalis with Temporary Protected Status (TPS) will have to come back to Nepal by 5 August or face deportation. Thirty-seven were flown back to Kathmandu on Omni Air last week.
“The US is one of the most sought-after destinations for higher education, and the ban will definitely impact bright students,” says Narottam Aryal of the King’s College in Kathmandu.
Indeed, Nepali undergraduates admitted into Ivy League colleges for the 2025 academic year have been asked to look for alternatives. The entire Fulbright Foreign Scholarships Board resigned on Wednesday citing interference from the Trump administration on the selection of this year’s cohort. Some Nepali students already on Fulbright scholarships have noted disruptions, delays and even cancellation of stipends.&nbsp;
The student visa restrictions were initially just for foreign students admitted to Harvard University, but it was later extended to all Chinese students and now to all students. Universities like Columbia which actively recruit foreign students, face sharp enrolment declines, threatening their financial stability and diversity.
An Indian female PhD candidate at Columbia University had her visa revoked by the US State Department, and said she was targeted on the basis of her social media posts on Israeli military attacks in Gaza. Social media vetting of political activism has raised concerns about privacy and freedom of expression in a country where such rights were a given.
Many students have been informed via email that their visas have been revoked for getting speeding or parking tickets, but even others with no criminal record have been affected. The fear of deportation looms large amongst international students, including those from Nepal.&nbsp;
For most Nepalis who migrate to the US for education, the journey is a high-stakes investment. They come largely from middle-class families, often rely on a patchwork of scholarships, work-study programs, loans, or even the sale of family assets to afford fees.
Most Nepali students pursue STEM subjects which offer extended Optional Practical Training (OPT) periods that help fund their education. But with the US backsliding on education and humanitarian matters, countries like the UK and Canada are becoming more attractive despite their own recent stricter controls on student visas.&nbsp;
The UK universities saw a 63% rise in Nepali students’ admissions in 2024. Japan is another popular destination with 64,816 Nepali students enrolled as of 2024.
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="WHERE WE WENT" aria-label="Map" id="datawrapper-chart-yUABv" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/yUABv/3/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="500" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r,i=0;r=e[i];i++)if(r.contentWindow===a.source){var d=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";r.style.height=d}}}))}(); </script></div>
Already, China, Hong Kong and Malaysia are poised to benefit from the increased scrutiny of US student visas. Several Hong Kong universities are offering unconditional admission to affected students, while Malaysian institutions are targeting previously US-bound Asian students. China and India have 330,000 and 280,000 students respectively in America, but the numbers for China have seen a sharp drop in the past year.
Elsewhere, branch campuses of American institutions such as NYU in Abu Dhabi, Georgetown in Dubai and Northwestern in Doha are getting more admission applications, and universities in the Gulf region are expanding infrastructure to accommodate those who would otherwise have gone to the US.&nbsp;
Even educational institutions in Nepal are hopeful that the US visa restrictions can be an opportunity to at least keep Nepali undergrads in Nepal, and also attract foreign students from the region.&nbsp;
“Many students might choose to complete their undergraduate degree here in Nepal and then move abroad for their Master’s degree later,” says Aryal of King’s College. “There was a need for quality higher education in Nepal anyway in terms of innovation and opportunities, so this could be the time to reduce our dependence on other countries.”
Nepal’s strategic position between India and China makes it sensitive to US policy shifts. India, a key ally, is also under US scrutiny for potential student travel restrictions. Chinese universities are already offering more scholarships to Nepali talent to capitalise on the US retreat.
American universities have challenged student visa restrictions in the courts. A federal court in Boston revoked the blanket ban on Harvard, and the State Department has ordered the resumption of processing student and exchange visitor visas.&nbsp;
Some are still hoping that President Trump will backtrack on the student visa restrictions, just like he has done with many of his more drastic executive orders.
Even so, the visa see-saw and longer-term uncertainties about living in the United States and its education system means students across the world are making alternative plans.
Says Aryal: “Policies of foreign countries change according to their needs, so excessive dependence was never a good idea. We should work to create different opportunities and choices of higher education within Nepal, so students are retained.” &nbsp;

America no longer prime destination for Nepali students

While Nepal was hosting the Sagarmatha Sambaad international climate conference in Kathmandu this month, on Mt Everest it was pretty much business as usual.&nbsp; The signs of climate breakdown are all there: a river now runs through Base Camp in summer, the Khumbu Icefall is more unstable, and there are more &nbsp;frequent avalanches. When expeditions arrived in March, the mountains were bare: it had not snowed since September, but then blizzards dumped unseasonal snow in May. And despite climate worries, such is the pull of Himalayan mountaineering that the Everest Industry showed no signs of slowdown. More than 600 international climbers and their Nepali guides had made it to the summit of the world’s highest mountain. At one point there were an estimated 2,000 people in the tent city on the Khumbu Glacier. All the ropes and ladders on the Icefall came down on Thursday, marking the official end of the spring climbing season, and just in time to avoid a monsoon cyclone approaching from the Bay of Bengal. It has been an action-packed season. One factor could be that Everest fees will go up from September: each foreign climber needs to pay a $15,000 royalty, up from the present $11,000. The cost for a Nepali climber on the South Col route will also go up: from Rs75,000 to Rs150,000.&nbsp; The fee to climb Everest in autumn is $7,500 (up from $5,500), but most climbers still prefer spring. Winter permit fee (December-February) is only $3,750 per person and the mountain is now also open for monsoon (June-August) climbs, when the fee is ever lower at $2,750. The revised rule also makes it mandatory for every two climbers on an 8,000m peak to hire one Nepali mountain guide.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025053004050_67f856fe52714e4bdcf21ae7d45c6f18c82117b9d0a5f73ed1efa04c96de1046.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025053004050_67f856fe52714e4bdcf21ae7d45c6f18c82117b9d0a5f73ed1efa04c96de1046" data-rendition-name="original" width="931" height="732" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry graph 1"> </figure>  In addition, climbers also have to pay for porters and guides, equipment, Base Camp costs, Ice Fall and fixed rope team fees, so climbing Everest does not come cheap. But such is the draw of climbing the world’s highest peak that some say the increased fees will not diminish the crowds next year. The government has tried to spread expeditions out to other seasons and other 8,000ers, but with not much success. Earlier this year, Nepal unilaterally increased the number of 8,000m peaks to 14 by adding six more sub-summits to broaden the choice for climbers. Added were: Yalung Kang (8,505m), Yalung Kang West (8,077m) &nbsp;Kangchenjunga Central (8,473m), Kangchenjunga South (8,476m), Lhotse Middle (8,410m) and Lhotse Shar (8,400m).&nbsp; The announcement could go against the accepted topographic criteria that a stand alone peak has to be at least 300m higher than an adjoining prominence, and at more than 3km isolation from it. The UIAA (Union Internationale des Associations d'Alpinisme) still recognises only 14 mountains as eight-thousanders, and only eight of those are in Nepal, or on the border with China. Nepal’s revised mountaineering regulations also increased the insurance coverage of high-altitude workers to protect porters and high altitude guides who usually take more risks on the mountains. Rescue teams and clean-up campaigners to collect trash and remove bodies of dead climbers up to Camp IV of Mt Everest do not need permits.&nbsp; The Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee is now using drones to fly down trash in 20kg sacks. Each climber is also required to bring down at least 6kg of waste and not just their own, but this rule is erratically enforced. With five fatalities on Everest and Lhotse, Spring 2025 had a historically low death toll. Another five climbers died on Annapurna, Kangchenjunga and Makalu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025053004050_38681de22f0fefb6faa12b01755566d09c5064d0ff84e12ccc7b5d68ea9ba38a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025053004050_38681de22f0fefb6faa12b01755566d09c5064d0ff84e12ccc7b5d68ea9ba38a" data-rendition-name="original" width="665" height="740" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest industry graph 2"> </figure>  Journalist Ben Ayers who ran the Everest Live social media channel from Everest Base Camp with daily updates credited the low death rate to dramatic rescues of climbers from the ‘Death Zone’ by their Nepali guides and longline helievacs — the visuals all uploaded on YouTube.&nbsp; “Ironically, this perception of safety is bringing more and more inexperienced climbers to the mountain, and they need more rescues,” Ayers said in one of his dispatches.&nbsp; American expedition chronicler and summiteer Alan Arnette suspects there is a lot of under-reporting given that the jet stream and storms were lashing Everest even till late in the season. He told us: “I heard a lot about frostbite and rescues that were not made public. It’s become practically impossible to cover the details on Everest. All the teams report nice news, and they don’t talk about bad stuff to avoid hurting businesses.” Although trash on Nepal’s mountains makes headlines, what does not receive as much attention is the climate impact of so many expeditions. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conference sidestepped this issue, which is ironic given that the impact of climate breakdown is most evident on Himalayan peaks and their glaciers.&nbsp; <h2>Need for Speed</h2> The big stories this year have been about speed-running from their home cities to the top of Everest. Ukrainian entrepreneur Andrew Ushakov flew out of JFK on 15 May at 10:15AM Nepal time, and was on the summit 3 days, 23 hours, and 7 minutes later on 19 May at 9:22AM.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250601080640_1c5cc6fc991307861768f07037ed9d30930fb20f35dbb57dc31c9a92a9e1a885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250601080640_1c5cc6fc991307861768f07037ed9d30930fb20f35dbb57dc31c9a92a9e1a885" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1800" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry"> <figcaption>Andrew Ushakov at the summt. Photo: ELITE EXPED</figcaption> </figure>  “I could never find the time for the traditional 40-50 days of acclimatisation,” Ushakov explained matter-of-factly. His ‘Everest Sea-to-Summit’ climb was possible because he spent 400 hours in hypoxic sleep tents over the past four years in New York. However, Ushakov did use ropes already fixed, hired four Nepali guides, helicoptered to Base Camp, and used much more oxygen than an average climber. And after the climb, Ushakov was arrested at Kathmandu airport for being in possession of $20,000 of undeclared cash and spent a night in jail and fined $60,000.&nbsp; The other speedsters were Garth Miller, Alastair Cairns, Anthony Stazicker, and Kev Godlington, all former British Army commandos. They left London and summited five days later on 21 May, and flew right back. They also used hypoxic tents to simulate the thin air high on Everest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250601080644_90c8dd5cc07b4b43f2989b1dc0c0650ab80f10ebb06680c25a6909c519957bd8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250601080644_90c8dd5cc07b4b43f2989b1dc0c0650ab80f10ebb06680c25a6909c519957bd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="668" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry "> <figcaption>All four members of the Furtenbach team at the summit. Photo: Sandro Gromen-Hayes</figcaption> </figure>  But more controversial was their use of xenon gas therapy in a German hospital to ramp up the production of oxygen-carrying haemoglobins in their blood. Xenon is banned by the World Anti-Doping Agency for being performance enhancing in sports. Expedition leader Lukas Furtenbach said this rule does not apply to mountaineering, as it is not a regulated sport like swimming. Nepal has no rules about xenon, but the Department of Tourism said it was launching an ‘investigation’ to decide on future policy since it is difficult to ban xenon, but allow oxygen. The controversy has also divided the mountaineering community, with some climbers saying they just want to maximise their chances of survival. Spending less time on the mountain could make climbing safer by reducing avalanche risk. It would also mean less trash on the mountains, but it would reduce the income of Nepal’s expedition industry. It is also unclear how much of the success was due to xenon therapy and whether the ex-special forces were already in good physical shape.&nbsp; The need for speed hides the fact that climbing in the Himalaya is dangerous business, and climbers cannot sprint to the top just by huffing xenon. But ultra-fast climbs could be charged more, and the revenue generated can be used to establish state-of-the-art rescue operations, and increase pay and insurance for guides. Two other speed chasers this season were Swiss-Ecuadorian Karl Egloff and American Tyler Andrews, both on Everest without oxygen. Andrews choppered to Base Camp to catch a weather window, but turned back from 8,500m due to high winds. Heavy snow and wind also forced Egloff to descend from 7,000m. Slow and steady climbers like Anja Blacha from Germany did make it to the summit without oxygen, while Kami Rita Sherpa broke his own record with his 31st Everest summit as he led a 26-strong Indian Army group. There were 468 permits issued for foreign climbers from 48 expeditions to Everest this spring. Nepal’s other eight-thousanders together had only 17 expeditions. Nepal has more than 1,000 peaks above 6,000m, and has opened only 476 of them for climbing.&nbsp;

The Everest Industry

While Nepal marked <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a> Day on 29 May, on the other side of the planet in the US state of Colorado dozens of Nepalis who have climbed the world’s highest peak multiple times were busy working as chefs and Uber drivers. Among them is Nima Doma Sherpa, who climbed Mt Everest in 2019 after her husband Tshering Wangchu was among 16 crushed by an avalanche on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/on-thin-ice-in-the-khumbu">the Khumbu Icefall</a> five years earlier. A large serac broke off the West Shoulder of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Mt Everest </a>and fell directly on a group of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/more-porters-sick-on-everest-trail">porters and guides</a> making their way up the Icefall at 5,800m. Their bodies were flown by helicopter to Khumjung where Tshering Wangchu was born. He was excited about climbing Mt Everest for the first time.&nbsp; In Khumjung, Nima Doma felt like her own life had also ended. This was the kind of news Sherpa wives, mothers and sisters dreaded every <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">mountaineering season</a>. She stayed home for more than two years grieving, but ultimately gathered up all her emotional strength to take care of her 6-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter. Nima had grown up in Khumjung hearing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/stories-of-nepal-s-summiteers">tales of adventure on the mountains </a>from their father, Ang Chubi Sherpa who had climbed Everest in 1993. He used to bring her and her sisters and brother European chocolates after every expedition, and used to tell them that the chocolate bars grew on the mountains. “It was only after we got older did we realise that he told us that chocolates grew in the mountains so we would not worry about him putting himself in harm's way,” Nima Doma recalled with a faraway look at her home in Boulder this week. Nima went to the school that <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/commemorating-edmund-hillary-in-nepal,4145">Edmund Hillary</a> opened in Khumjung till Grade 8, and then dropped out to help in the kitchen and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">tend yaks</a>. She was married off to Tshering Wangchu, who was also a high altitude guide. When Tshering went on expeditions, Nima also started working as a porter from Namche to Base Camp. It was perhaps her father’s tales of mountains of chocolates that had always attracted her to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/knowing-our-mountains-43v4iyvo">the peaks</a>. After her husband was killed ten years ago this month, being a widow with children was not easy for Nima Doma. But she was not alone: there were at least 200 single mothers in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/khumbu-since-1950-jaww4qn0">the Khumbu</a>, and 20 of them just in Khumjung whose husbands had been killed in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/tragic-start-to-himalayan-spring-nepal,3695">mountaineering accidents</a>. Some were not even 20 years old, and had children growing up without fathers. But there were also women in the 50s whose husbands had been killed in the 1980s. Nima found sponsors for her children’s education, and moved to Kathmandu. In the capital, Sherpa widows used to meet to help each other. Some of them had joined the Nepal Mountaineering Association (NMA) training for rock and ice climbing. “I decided that it was no use sitting home and crying anymore, after meeting other single mothers I felt less alone,” remembers Nima, who joined the Juniper Foundation and enrolled in an NMA training camp in Manang. There she climbed Chulu East (6,584m) and met Furadiki Sherpa, whose rope-fixing husband had also been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/on-mt-everest-s-70th-records-and-fatalities">killed on Everest</a> in 2013. They set themselves the goal of climbing Everest one day, and started a fund-raising drive.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250530090544_621be0724b9182c8e3594b2c562a71ec32ac01d985a71d0cf31646de9d51e15a.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250530090544_621be0724b9182c8e3594b2c562a71ec32ac01d985a71d0cf31646de9d51e15a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2678" height="1274" loading="lazy" alt="Everest summiteers find new life in the US"> </figure>  “We decided we had to overcome society’s stigma of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/widows-personal-happiness-comes-last-in-face-of-social-financial-hardships,1855">widowhood</a> and prove that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-junko-tabei">women could also climb mountains</a>,” Nima said, adding that she was inspired by Nepal’s first woman Everest summiteer Pasang Lhamu Sherpa, who died during her descent in 1993. Nima Doma and Furdiki climbed the technically-difficult Ama Dablam (6,812m) and then arrived at Everest Base Camp in April 2019 as part of their Two Widows Expedition with the motto, ‘So Can We’. While climbing up the Icefall Nima passed the spot where her husband had been killed. It was a jumble of constantly-shifting ice blocks bigger than houses. She closed her eyes and said a prayer. “I remember thinking, this is so difficult and dangerous. This is what my husband had to do to support our family,” Nima Doma said. “I was determined to fulfil my husband’s dream of climbing Chomolungma, and to prove to ourselves that we two women could do it.” It was 23 May 2019 when <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/world/two-sherpa-widows-scale-everest-and-smash-stigma-idUSKCN1SU0MV/" target="_blank">Nima and Furdiki stepped on the summit</a> and looked over into Tibet, and down at Tengboche Monastery to the south.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250530090544_6b822582b5d88ba5e972db084f184690b40653c6efd9901b2dd082ffba2a263b.png" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250530090544_6b822582b5d88ba5e972db084f184690b40653c6efd9901b2dd082ffba2a263b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="1522" loading="lazy" alt="Everest summiteers find new life in the US"> </figure>  Nima Doma hugged Furdiki, took off her mask and wept. But for the first time in five years, it was not from grief but relief — relief for being free of all the sadness and sacrifices and for fulfilling her husband’s dream. They had found <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-after-death">life after death</a>. “I felt this immense joy to be on top of the world, it was indescribable,” Nima Doma said, “I have wept only twice in my life. Once when my husband died, and once there on top of Everest.” The tears had frozen on Nima Doma’s cheeks, as she and Furdiki headed back down the mountain.