<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b439c7e80680e0c95afjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="854"/><figcaption>New Sajha buses as they get ready to depart from the CHTC factory in Nanjing. Photo: MUKUNDA SHAH.</figcaption></figure>Electric vehicles are making a splash in Nepal, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/e-vehicles-prepare-for-post-lockdown-boom/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">sales have seen a spurt</a> in the past two years. But a lot more work needs to be done to make battery-powered transport a sustainable solution in the country.That was the message of the three-day discussion series, EV Chautari, jointly organised by the Nepal Automobile Dealers’ Association (NADA) and USAID Clean Air to coincide with NADA’s first ever EV-only car show this week in Kathmandu.EV sales worldwide are gaining momentum. In 2021, there were 16.5 million electric cars on the road, a tripling in just three years. Twenty percent of the vehicles sold in China last year were battery-driven.Nepal is also <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-goes-electric-but-conditions-apply/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">keeping up</a> with this global trend. In 2021, the government announced that it would shift from petrol fuelled light weight vehicles to electric vehicles entirely by the year 2031.  While the decision was deemed too ambitious by many at the time, in the context of Nepal, shifting to electric transport makes sense. And the market agrees.Driven by tax rebates, electric vehicles have seen a dramatic rise in popularity in Nepal market in the past few years. Last year, the import of lightweight electric four-wheelers saw a seven-fold increase. There is currently a six-month waiting list for bookings of some of the popular electric four-wheelers.Institutional consumers are also starting to make changes. Last week, Daraz, the biggest e-commerce site in Nepal, purchased electric scooters for deliveries within Kathmandu Valley. Earlier this year, Lalitpur Metropolitan City’s Quick Response Team also started using electric scooters for its patrols within the metropolis.The industry is taking note of the shift towards electric vehicles. At NADA’s first ever EV Expo this week show-cased 51 brands, including nine four-wheeler companies, one three-wheelers, and 16 two-wheelers, and by the end of the four-day exhibition, there had been more than 30,000 footfalls and more than 200 deals signed.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b469c7e80680e0c95b0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Photo: MUKUNDA SHAH</figcaption></figure>Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-electric-transport-future-is-here/">Nepal’s electric future is here</a>, Sonia AwaleGiven these rapid strides, it would not be unreasonable to assume that Nepal is smoothly moving towards electric transport. However, just as Nepal’s highways have many potholes, there are still many legislative, regulatory and technical pitfalls along the way.The biggest challenge currently facing EVs in Nepal is erratic government policy, both in terms of inconsistent <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/why-nepal-needs-to-restore-ev-tax-subsidy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">tax rates for EVs</a> as well as lack of standards and protocols for EVs testing, monitoring and the conversion of ICE vehicles into electric vehicles. Furthermore, the lack of policies that support electrification of public transport is holding back investment in this important segment.In the past few years, the customs and taxes levied on electric vehicles have fluctuated wildly, leading to apprehensions from both dealers and buyers. Speaking at EV Chautari at the NADA EV Expo this week, Yamuna Shrestha, Managing Director of Cimex Pvt Ltd blamed unpredictable changes in tax policy as holding back sales.“In the past two years, the taxes have changed four times,” she told the meeting. “This has created confusion for the end user. For instance, a consumer buys an EV, then a month later the tax goes down, and suddenly the buyer has lost 20-22 lakhs.”Government policy doesn’t allow changes in prices of consumer goods of more than 10 per cent in a year, but the current fluctuation is creating much bigger changes in the final price of electric vehicles. Shrestha said an urgent priority should be consistent policy.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b499c7e80680e0c95b1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Kapil Siwakoti, Chairperson of the EV Committee of NADA and Deborah Kennedy, COO of FHI 360. Photos: BHUSHAN TULADHAR.</figcaption></figure>During the discussion, Sagar Gajurel, General Secretary at the Journalist Association for Automobiles and Mobility brought up the issue of EV testing, monitoring.“Right now, we are importing ready-made vehicles from abroad and selling them in Nepal. But before selling them, what we need to do is test how reliable the product is, and how it will support our current transport system, which is lacking,” he said. “As new technologies are introduced, the Department of Transport Management needs to work on monitoring capacity for the imported vehicles.”Ram Chandra Paudel, Technical Director at the Department of Transport Management states that the government is has drafted the long overdue National Transport Policy of 2078 to replace an existing one which came out more than two decades ago. Whether the new policy gives sufficient clarity on the standards and protocols for EV testing, monitoring and conversion of ICE vehicles into electric vehicles is to be seen.Another challenge facing the EV industry is technology adoption. According to Dipesh Paudel, EV Training Head at Sipradi Pvt Ltd, technicians need a lot of training and awareness in terms of technology adoption.“We need to build the competency of four to five hundred thousand local technicians who work on vehicle maintenance. A policy level solution is needed to address this gap,” he says.Similarly, customers need to be made aware of the workings of EVs in order to build trust toward the new technology. A common concern for the customers is range anxiety – whether their EV will have enough charge to get them through the day. This concern about endurance is related to the lack of charging infrastructure. Some steps are being taken by NEA and other private sector actors, but, but a lot more work needs to go into this to overcome the reluctance of customers used to petrol stations every step of the way along highways.Earlier this year, NEA launched its first charging station at Ratna Park in Kathmandu and has started a drive to open 51 charging stations across Nepal. According to Manoj Silwal, Deputy Managing Director of NEA, if anyone wants to set up a charging unit, his agency provides free installation of infrastructure for up to 200KVA.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b4c9c7e80680e0c95b2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"><figcaption>(Right to left) Sonika Manandhar, Co-founder and CTO of Aloi Technologies, Sunil KC, CEO of NMB Bank, Kanak Mani Dixit, Chairman of Sajha Yatayat, Krishna Sapkota, Executive Director of Town Development Fund and Rajan Rayamajhi, Chairman of Thee Go at a session titled EV Chautari during the NADA EV expo last week.</figcaption></figure>Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-electric-shock-to-nepals-energy-future/">An electric shock to Nepal’s energy future</a>, Ramesh KumarFurthermore, NEA has provided electricity at a low cost specifically for EV charging stations. The cost for charging EVs at peak time is around Rs8/hour and in off peak times, the cost is as low as approximately Rs 4/hr.Private companies like BYD, Hyundai, TheeGo, Sipradi and others have also set up charging points for their customers. However, the issue here is that these charging stations do not have standardised appliance outlets and only serve their specific vehicles.Ram Chandra Paudel of the Department of Transport Management says, “The government needs to work with the private sector for charging infrastructure that will be compatible at multiple places with multiple types of vehicles.”The need for infrastructure development for the EVs is not limited to charging stations only. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-backs-evs-to-boost-hydro-electricity-uptake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Electricity transmission lines</a> and infrastructure also needs to be able to withstand the increased load that is inevitably going to accompany widespread vehicle charging.Current data shows that the market for EVs in the sphere of private four-wheelers has already taken off. However, in order to ensure that the future of transportation in Nepal is electric, the focus now needs to shift towards public transport and two-wheelers.Two-wheelers make up more than 79% of registered vehicles in Nepal. However, less than 1% of two-wheelers on the streets of Nepal are electric, whereas, worldwide, 42% of two-wheelers sold in 2021 were electric. The supply of electric two-wheelers is there.At the Expo itself, 16 of the stalls were occupied by two-wheeler companies while only 9 four-wheeler brands were present. But in order to generate demand, consumer confidence and trust needs to be built through awareness campaigns and infrastructure to support electric two-wheelers.The most important (and largely missing) piece of the puzzle is electrifying Nepal’s public transport network. This is where the biggest gains can be made both in terms of reducing air pollution (and therefore improving public health) and cutting fossil fuel consumption that has sent Nepal’s import bill sky high this year.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b509c7e80680e0c95b3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="2268"><figcaption>Umesh Shrestha with Deborah Kennedy, Kapil Siwakoti and Yamuna Shrestha of CIMEX and an executive committee member of NADA at the EV expo.</figcaption></figure>Electrification of public transport started a long time ago, with trolley buses in 1975 and the introduction of electric three-wheeler Safa Tempo 30 years ago. However, this early start has not resulted in a sustained growth.Worldwide, in 2021 44% of sales of buses were electric with China leading the way. However, in Nepal the number of electric buses on the roads is insignificant. Sundar Yatayat has a few e-buses operating in Kathmandu and Butwal-Bhairawa.Recently, Sajha Yatayat has added 3 electric buses to its fleet, and 37 more are on the way from the factory in Nanjing to the China-Nepal border.Five buses that were provide to Lumbini Development Trust by the Asian Development Trust three years ago finally started operations two days ago.Similarly, several e-microbuses provided by TheeGo are now running the Kathmandu-Sindhuli route, as well as ramp buses for Guna Airlines at Kathmandu airport.But the use of electric buses in Nepal does not extend beyond this. Bagmati province has recently decided to only allow registration of electric cars as taxis, but till date, only one EV has been registered.Neighbouring India has taken more concrete steps to electrify its public transport system. It has launched two phases of Faster Adoption and Manufacturing of Electric &amp; Hybrid Vehicles (FAME) initiatives with investments of over INR 100 billion to create demand for electric public vehicles and invest in charging infrastructure.It also recently announced plans to buy 50,000 electric buses worth $10 billion. Nepal also needs to learn from its northern and southern neighbours on having a policy to support electric public transportation and investing in it.While Nepal might not have a lot of capital to invest in public electric transport, a creative solution might be the use the billions of rupees already collected from the pollution tax of Rs1.50 per litre of petrol and diesel sold in the country in the past years, to support the EV ecosystem as a whole -- particularly public transport operators who want to invest in e-buses.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b539c7e80680e0c95b4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"><figcaption>Crowd at OLA stall at the NADA EV show in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure>Another solution would be to convert old internal combustion engine vehicles to battery power. Nepal has successfully experimented with vehicle conversion some 30 years ago when Vikram Tempo three wheelers were converted to electric Safa Tempo. A similar drive to convert old buses to electric could be a solution to pursue.However, in order to do so, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/new-nepal-budget-sparks-electric-comeback/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the government</a> need to first provide legal clarity on vehicle conversion, and secondly work on standards, testing and monitoring protocols for the conversion of the vehicles.There is no question that Nepal needs to swiftly decarbonise the transport sector to manage its energy, economy and environment. However, a lot of homework needs to be done by both the government and the private sector to accelerate this process.Last year, at the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/good-cop-bad-cop/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">COP 26 climate conference in Glasgow</a>, Prime Minister Deuba said, “Nepal remains firmly committed to the implementation of Paris Agreement. We have submitted an ambitious NDC that plans to decarbonize our economy in all sectors. Nepal aims to reach a net zero emission by 2045.”It is now high time we walk our talk.Shreesha Nankhwa is an environmentalist currently engaged with FHI 360 as a Social and Behaviour Change Communication Officer.

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Potholes on the highway to Nepal’s EV future

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-JBl5KtybQ&amp;t=32sAshim Pandey, 30, used to be fascinated with motorcycles while growing up in Kathmandu. He wondered why Nepal could not make its own two-wheelers. Then, after working on his master's degree from Netherland's Delft University of Technology and working at the automobile company Donkervoort, he did not just narrow his vision to designing an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-e-scooties-for-cleaner-kathmandu-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric motorcycle</a>, but also assembling it in Nepal.He returned to Nepal in 2017, and set up <a href="https://www.yatrimotorcycles.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Yatri Motorcyles and ‘Project Zero’</a> – for zero carbon emitted by a battery-powered bike. The prototype bike was launched last week by its seven-member team in Kathmandu."In Holland, I learnt how to manufacture cars," recalls Pandey. “Here we design the parts, and order them from our manufacturing partners in North America, China, India and other European countries.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a671a9c7e80680e0599bejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1050" height="701"/><figcaption>Photos: MANISH POUDEL</figcaption></figure>Pandey designed the chassis of the motorcycle, which looks boxier than gasoline bikes, but has a futuristic silhouette. Mechanical engineer Ashesh Shrestha planned the bike’s tests, and system engineer Sulabh Shrestha designed the embedded software. Computer Science graduate Sarthak Sharma is an application developer, and electronic engineer Krishna Shrestha designed the overall architecture. Batsal Pandey heads business development.Industrial designer Kanisha Suwal designed the motorcycle, based on a Café Racer bike, and came up with a model that looks like a racing bike. "It is trendy, but also convenient and versatile design for users," says Suwal.Yatri motorcycles is using lighter materials like carbon fibre for the mainframe than petroleum bikes to offset the weight of the lithium batteries. They also make the bike stronger and lighter, but alas, also little more expensive.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a671d9c7e80680e0599bfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1050" height="701">The battery array can be fully charged in about two hours, and will then run for 230 km, which will cost only Rs70 worth of electricity. A similar petrol bike would cost Rs700 in fuel to cover that distance.Pandey hopes that the world-class design and finish of the machines will help remove the negative image customers have of Nepali products. Safety is another primary concern, and the machines will be tested according to Final Element Analysis before they hit the market, and are expected to last ten years."We have kept safety, sensitivity, and possible accidents in mind while designing the motorcycle, and want the bikes to be as reliable as possible, riders will not have to compromise on anything," says Pandey.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a671f9c7e80680e0599c0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1050" height="701">In 2018, Yatri motorcycles conducted a survey in Nepal's major cities about transportation problems. Most had ticked <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">'pollution'</a>, 'traffic jams' and ‘cost of fuel’ as major concerns. That convinced Pandey that the future for two-wheelers was electric. Replacing even a fraction of the<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/poisoning-the-air-we-breathe/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> 800,000 motorcyles in Kathmandu</a> would reduce carbon monoxide and other pollutants from the air, as well as lessen the import of petrol.However, it is not all easy going in Nepal, Pandey says. There are obstacles every step of the way. For example, although <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/electri-city-cars/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric vehicles in Nepal</a> are only taxed up to 10%, the components that Yatri imports for its bikes are categorised as spare parts and taxed at 30%. There is also minimal government support and incentives.However, it is when the going gets tough that the tough get going, and Pandey and his team want to set up an assembly line ans ramp up the production volume as soon as the prototype proves itself in tests on Nepal’s roads.

Designed and made in Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710110/6368c9f39c7e80680e02f2dejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="786"/><figcaption>Sikuma Rai</figcaption></figure>With the growing popularity of electric cars after the fuel crisis caused by the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/09/25/unofficial-blockade/">2015 Blockade</a>, it was only a question of time before someone opened a maintenance centre just for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12416#.Ws8mvy5ubIV">battery-operated vehicles</a> in Kathmandu.There are now over 350 Reva and e2O cars running on Kathmandu roads, so it seemed like the numbers had reached critical mass for Mahindra’s authorised distributor for Nepal, Agni Energy, to establish a dedicated service centre in the Valley.Agni’s newly built facility in Kunpondol was inaugurated on Tuesday by Nepali Times editor, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/">Kunda Dixit</a>. The spacious service centre provides necessary before and after service for its e2O, eSupro and future electric models from the Mahindra stable. Cars can have pre-delivery inspection to wash, diagnoses, maintenance, charging and spare parts.“We thought it was the right time for us to open an exclusive service centre as many countries have been announcing deadlines to convert to electric, and India has a target of 2030,” said Cabinet Shrestha of Agni Energy (pictured above)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5k4-awPlAA&amp;feature=youtu.beAgni was ahead of its time <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-Electric-mobility-chetan-maini,686">when it bought the Reva</a> dealership from Lotus Energy 12 years ago. Then, the government was hesitant to support zero emission vehicles and customers were reluctant to switch from petrol.However, with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/energy-reliance-an-electric-future-for-Nepal,2639">continuous lobbying by environmentalists</a>, word of mouth appreciation of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-Little-big-ev,685">benefits of electric</a> by drivers, the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19477#.Ws8pYy5ubIU">popularity of the sleek, simple and light e2Os grew</a>.Electric car owners from various professions attending the inauguration on Tuesday said they were happy that the new service centre was being opened. Sudha Basnet, who owns a bright red Reva, said:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgarfFYflYI&amp;feature=youtu.beAs a doctor, we live a very stressful life. So for me, driving this EV is stress-free since the car is easy to drive, clean, can park anywhere and there are no hassles about refuelling.”Agni Energy’s latest customer for the e2O model is the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) which bought three units. NEA Director Kul Man Ghising will drive one of them to work in Kathmandu.Despite the growing popularity, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/implementation-on-ev-friendly-policy-nil,2689">the main challenges for electric vehicles</a> still remain the lack of charging stations, no government subsidy, and public reluctance. Nepal has not gone beyond <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Be-smart-go-electric,3062">removing customs duty on imports</a>.Being a price conscious market, Mahindra plans to introduce a cheaper version of e2O Plus for Kathmandu roads with less power, according to Chaitanya Kagalkar, International Operations Manager of Mahindra.Sikuma RaiRead also<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/The-electric-age,3419">The electric age</a>, Kunda Dixit<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Greening-of-Annapurna,1397">Greening of Annapurna</a>, Basil Edward Teo<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Here,381">Here come the hybrids</a>, Kunda Dixit

Electric car service centre

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

It took the September GenZ firestorm and public anger against non-performing actors for a 35-year-old structural engineer and rapper Balendra (Balen) Shah to oust Nepal’s four-time prime minister and former revolutionary.
The UML’s KP Oli has been trounced by 50,000 votes in his home turf, an area where he has won many elections in his 55-year political career. It is the same story across Nepal, where established politicians are being rejected by voters.
A 'Balen Wave' has swept the country, dyeing it in the RSP’s Blue party colour. But the UML and NC particularly did this to themselves.&nbsp;
An apology and a retirement after the September protests would have saved Oli some dignity, and given the rebranded UML a tiny bit of hope and perhaps a few more electoral wins.&nbsp;
Maybe he could have been remembered fondly as the funny old guy who made one last fatal political error, but now he will be defined by this defeat. Maintaining control and legitimacy in his own party will be hard too.&nbsp;
Contrary to his past combativeness and blaming nefarious foreign conspiracies, Oli gracefully conceded on Saturday, congratulating 'Balen Babu' &nbsp;and wishing him 'a successful five years'.
Balendra Shah and his RSP knew what they were doing. As of Sunday, it has won 118 and leads in 7 other constituencies, a lot of them with similarly wide margins of victory. RSP candidates have even beaten well regarded candidates like Gagan Thapa of the NC and Kulman Ghising of Ujyalo Nepal.&nbsp;

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Many including this paper questioned the RSP's strategy of choosing popular candidates over competence. But the point of an election is to win it, and there was a short campaign window to put it all together and the RSP pulled it off most successfully.&nbsp;
To be sure, the party should not get too much credit. Its manifesto was broad and bland, and no different than the other older parties.&nbsp;
A big part of the RSP ballots, maybe even most of it, were people voting against the old parties rather than for it. Many seemed to feel that this was coming, and perhaps even hoped for it.
There is also a sense of lingering cynicism. Nepal has had several revolutions and many new political starts and things always seem to end up in the same corrupt hopelessness. There is every possibility that the new RSP government will also go the same way.&nbsp;
The RSP is much bigger than Balendra Shah, although it was his popularity that made this victory possible. Its victory brings with it a sense of hope as all new things do.&nbsp;
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Not all party members who were elected are going to be as accountable or have integrity. Many of them have a chequered past, saw an opportunity in joining the RSP and took the risk.&nbsp;
What changed things were the events of September. Politicians saw firsthand that 'Power to the People' is not some abstract idea. Get too loose to it, forget that you are ruling and not serving, and you get booted out.&nbsp;
The interim Sushila Karki government deserve credit for delivering on its biggest mandate of holding the election in such a short time frame. The expectation at large was that the polls would be delayed or even scuttled.
In fact, a two-thirds RSP majority is a great opportunity to rethink the country’s political culture and institutionalise change. The point of the government in a democracy is to serve the people. Appointing non-political, competent people worked, at least in the short tenure of the interim government.&nbsp;
Adding layers of bureaucracy and committees and party politics along federal, provincial and local levels heaped resistance to the simple goal of making lives easier for the Nepali.&nbsp;
Nepal is getting a reboot, and the next few months will show whether the country is on the right track with its new generation government.

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

I was a new mother trying to protect my young family from Covid in 2020, and that was when I first noticed Jacinda Ardern’s leadership. Our own prime minister was spreading misinformation about the strong immune system of Nepalis and our herbal concoctions being antidotes.&nbsp; Later in 2024, Ardern showed up after the mass shooting at mosques in New Zealand with tears in her eyes, and the strong message: “They are us.” It was refreshing to see such empathetic leadership, especially as political news was dominated by elected authoritarians, while Nepal was held hostage by repeat prime ministers.&nbsp; Ardern’s book A Different Kind of Leadership should be essential reading for all Nepalis with political aspirations, especially the new generation that wants real change. The theme that repeats throughout the book is to be human before becoming a politician.&nbsp; The book is not just about Ardern showing up for her people as one of them, it is also about why she decided to show up the way she did, and what brought her to politics to begin with — resolve, a little bit of luck, and stepping up when she had to.&nbsp; Political ambition is not a bad thing. But stepping up to lead when the situation demands it, and knowing when it is time to leave, is what makes a leader. Ardern was given the opportunity to become her party’s deputy leader at a relatively young age, and her party leader resigned — two events uncommon in Nepali politics. Ardern mentions multiple times not thinking of herself as politician material because she has a thin skin, and she talks equally often of her feelings of being intimidated in political spaces, up until she accepted the position of party leader.&nbsp; But she was accountable at a time when we in Nepal were getting used to non-reactions and non-answers from the loud, confident men who played with power. Somehow, somewhere, not least because of the malestream ideas we have been fed about politics and politicians, we imagine that leadership should look a certain way. Strong, macho, loud, confident or even better, overconfident. We imagine that empathetic leadership is soft, is scared to make people angry, is ineffective.&nbsp; LOOKING AFTER PEOPLE Ardern’s leadership was effective. New Zealand had less Covid fatalities than most developed countries, and it went in and out of lockdown with relative ease. Ardern’s approval ratings were high at a very unstable time in politics globally. A significant portion of the chapters that talk about Ardern’s time in office also delve into her struggles being a working mother. But she does not consider herself a supermom who did it all. She portrays herself as simply a working mom, one with lots of support, and discusses how common it is for parents, especially mothers, to juggle work and family. She comes across as one of us. There is a section in the book where Ardern’s daughter asks her the question she has been dreading, and which many of us working moms also face, “Mummy, why do you have to work so much?” Ardern explains that she has a “very important job” and explains it to her three-and-half-year-old as “looking after people”.&nbsp; I put down the book when I reached that sentence. I want the next prime minister of my country to read this book, and then lead. I want the next prime minister of Nepal to think that he (all the top contenders for the job are men, page 9) is looking after people, making sure no Nepali child is undernourished, that people can make a living without risking their lives, hearing the concerns of citizens and solving them.&nbsp; I want him to lead like a woman, like Sushila Karki has been leading for the last six months, with quiet determination and integrity, and without fanfare. I want him to remember that leadership is just service, and that, like Maya Angelou wrote, ‘Your legacy is what you do every day.’ It is not loud speeches and the making of some imagined, glorified history. Karki was picked to lead us back during the black days of early September when the country was in flames. The very first video of her on 9 September, the day after young people and students had been shot by the government that was meant to protect them shows her angry and emotional, her voice shaking.&nbsp; It was Karki’s actions in those days of fragility that showed us, once again, that the leader we deserve gets emotional on our behalf, but also knows how to do the work. After five years of leading her country through a global pandemic, Ardern realised that she is exhausted, that she does not have enough in her anymore to keep leading New Zealand, and she steps down.&nbsp; Towards the end of the book, Ardern tells readers like herself, sensitive and self-doubting, that if we want to be leaders, we should channel our anxieties and sensitivities to humble ourselves, to read more and seek out advice, and prepare ourselves for the challenges. Nepal’s next prime minister has to have these qualities: humility, teamwork, diligence and accountability. Good intention, ambition, university degrees, professional achievements are not enough to change the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; And when they have completed the task, or when they know they cannot do it they must have the courage to step down like Jacinda Ardern.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260308010340_b1c2a873eb640e3f10ab912c368dc9271f12f60d600bf8d5db5d2c13422a317c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260308010340_b1c2a873eb640e3f10ab912c368dc9271f12f60d600bf8d5db5d2c13422a317c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Jacinda book details"> </figure>  &nbsp;