Under a gunmetal grey sky, the four of us stood for the Last Post on an expansive empty lawn as the crows wheeled overhead. The Nepal Army general and British Gurkha colonel saluted smartly in their uniforms, whilst the Ambassador and I bowed our heads. The red poppies in all our lapels symbolised remembrance and acknowledgment of the ultimate sacrifice by all men and women in the armed forces during times of conflict.It must have been the strangest Anzac Day commemoration ever. The grass, still soggy from yesterday’s rain, was dotted with crimson rose petals fallen from the luscious red wreathes. In turn we had laid them between the two flags, on the anniversary of the First World War Gallipoli landing by the ANZACs (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps), in remembrance of the dreadful battlefield losses that ensued on both sides and from so many nations. After the one minute silence in the deserted garden, the Reveille was trumpeted on an embassy iPhone.Since services began on 25 April 1916, this year 2020 was the first Anzac Day ever that Australians and New Zealanders were not able to gather nationwide to mark the anniversary, due to the social isolation battle against COVID-19. Instead, digitally shared messages urged individual calls to action -- messages of solidarity displayed in home windows, the laying of virtual poppies at the online cenotaph, and alone standing at dawn in driveways, gates and front doors to mark the moment #standatdawn.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d909c7e80680e06b355jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2699" height="2265"/><figcaption>Australian Ambassador Peter Budd, Lt-Gen Sarad Kumar Giri, Chief of General Staff, Nepal Army, Col Richard Goodman MBE, Commander, British Gurkhas Nepal and Lisa Choegyal Honorary Consul of New Zealand at the Anzac Day service on 25 April 2020 during the lockdown in Kathmandu. Photo: JAMES HAZELL</figcaption></figure>Every year the Australian Embassy hosts our Anzac Day service in Kathmandu, echoing solemn sunrise ceremonies all over Australia and New Zealand, with many young people as well as old brought together to mark this most important joint national occasion. Normally the garden is thronged with several hundred Australians, New Zealanders, Nepalis and the international community, enlivened by Nepali and Gurkha buglers and bagpipers, and followed by a slap-up Aussie breakfast that is part of the attraction.Last year as well as long term residents and tourists, several mountaineers joined us including Guy Cotter, Robert Mads Anderson and a couple of Sir Edmund Hillary’s grandchildren -- Russell Brice was absent, recovering from his fall from a rooftop restaurant. This year there are no expeditions and the mountains are closed to trekkers. Ambassador Pete and Emma boiled the kettle for coffee and offered us homemade Anzac biscuits in their empty house.I’m not sure when the Australian-hosted Anzac Day tradition began in Nepal, but is must have been around 1990 when the embassy moved to its current compound in Bansbari. Elizabeth Hawley regularly attended as New Zealand Honorary Consul before me. With no compunction she admitted to having delivered the exact same Anzac address every year, claiming no one ever noticed.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d949c7e80680e06b356jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1500">Although diplomatic relations between Nepal and Australia have existed since 1960, it was ambassador Diane Johnstone, affectionately known as ‘Call-me-Di’, who set up in Kathmandu from a cosy rented house in Thapathali in 1986 with a guitar-playing husband. The succession of early incumbents in the representational role were marked by life-changing events during their tenure – separation, divorce, engagement and marriage – including one emotional liaison with a Bollywood superstar that ended in tears. Over the decades, the mission has achieved many milestones in humanitarian and development aid, technical assistance and trade support.The popularity of Australian wine in Kathmandu dates back to one inspired ambassador who offered to import cases for his diplomatic friends -- and before the days of wine being available in the open market, he had many friends. Eventually both governments noticed when the embassy wine order exceeded that of much larger missions in London and Paris, dryly pointing out that every official Australian in Nepal must have been consuming about three dozen bottles a day. Aussie producers had the last laugh however, with their brands still established today as Nepal’s wine of choice amongst the chatterati.We wanted to do something special to commemorate the 100-year anniversary of Gallipoli on 25 April 2015. Thousands were gathering in Turkey, including the Prince of Wales and a ministerial delegation from Nepal. The UK had observed the outbreak of World War I with a dramatic moat-ful of 888,246 ceramic poppies around the Tower of London, representing all British and Commonwealth fatalities.Hoping to achieve a similarly grand gesture, the Gurkha commander conspired with us to ship 120,000 poppies from the British Legion in London, the idea being to carpet the grounds of the Australian ambassador’s home with a sea of scarlet. Each paper poppy raises at least a pound each but, thanks to British Gurkha generosity and skilled negotiations, boxes of poppies were delivered to the Australians with the Kiwi consulate paying only a nominal amount. At the last minute, however, the ambassador’s wife vetoed the idea on the grounds that it would be hard to tidy up afterwards and make a mess of her garden.The surfeit of poppies, plenty for future events, was soon erased from minds on that unforgettable 25 April five years ago. I had just returned home to Budanilkantha, kicked off my shoes and settled on the terrace with my laptop and the dogs when at 11:56 am the earthquake struck. Terracotta tiles rained off the roof, my car careened violently beneath the magnolia tree, and in the distance far below a pall of dust rose eerily above the assaulted city.No doubt, we all remember exactly where we were and how we felt at that fateful moment on Anzac Day 2015, when our lives were rocked forever.

Lisa Choegyal

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The strangest Anzac Day ever

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101140/636b75d59c7e80680e06240bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1035"/><figcaption>WE HAVE A LAUNCH: Elizabeth Hawley is flanked by American Ambassador Peter Bodde, Dr Bhekh Bahadur Thapa and Nepali Times editor Kunda Dixit at the launch of The Nepal Scene on 20 April 2015, just before the 2015 earthquake. Photo: LISA CHOEGYAL</figcaption></figure>Next Friday, the Nepali Times will be publishing its millennial issue. It is getting on for 20 years since this august weekly first hit the newsstands, providing those of us who cannot read the Nepali language with insights into the news and media, and rescuing us from the bland reporting in The Rising Nepal.When I first arrived in Kathmandu the government daily, with its carefully filtered news, was the only English newspaper in circulation, the Royals and their exemplary activities reliably featuring in every headline. The depth of analysis could be summarised by the unwavering daily weather forecast: ‘Mainly fine throughout the kingdom.’Taking a lead from my boss <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15828" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Jim Edwards</a>, the ruling Royals were never mentioned in those days except in terms of utmost respect and reverence. Political access was achieved by Jim’s strategic hobnobbing with court advisors and military aides, often over surreptitious cups of tea at dawn, or covert early morning walks through the paddy fields of Sanepa, avoiding the cow pats and stray dogs sleeping off a noisy night on the prowl.Today’s range of English-language dailies leaves us foreign guests better informed and spoiled for choice, although we are aware that to understand really what is going on the local broadsheets, news sites, blog spots and web pages tell a very different story. And for those of us still in the dark, the Nepali Times provides an invaluable weekly summary, entertaining evaluation and informed opinion.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101140/636b75d89c7e80680e06240cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="148">Kunda Dixit had come onto my radar long before he embarked on launching the Nepali Times as its creator, editor and publisher. Whilst an energetic young reporter with a passion for ecology, I had asked him to write the chapter on environmental issues in the Nepal Insight Guide of which, by a series of random coincidences, I was the producer. He came highly recommended by the acerbic <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2018/01/26/from-liz-hawley-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Elizabeth Hawley</a>, Reuters correspondent in Kathmandu, with whom he had interned as a budding writer. With her rigorous reporting and uncompromising journalistic standards, this was high praise indeed.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-a-familys-destination/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal: a family's destination</a>, Lisa ChoegyalThe illustrated format of the Apa Insight Guides was invented in the 1970s by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17968" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hans Hoefer</a>, a charismatic itinerant photographer and publisher based in Singapore and originally from southern Germany. In our world of Trip Advisor and Lonely Planet, it is hard to appreciate how revolutionary was this cheerful travel guide design, taking over from the dry and photo-less presentation of Baedekers. Before he sold the Apa series, Hans Hoefer had created dozens of Insight Guide books throughout Asia but the very first were Bali and Nepal, his two favourite hang outs.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/elizabeth-hawley-1923-2018/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Elizabeth Hawley 1923-2018</a>, Lisa ChoegyalTousle-haired and draped in cameras, I had been beguiled by Hans when we met early in 1974 at a Hindu Thaipusam festival in the Batu Caves, a colourful melee of millions of devotees in the back blocks of Malaysia. A new arrival in Asia, I was susceptible to his enthusiastic energy and ability to translate his passions into successful business.I was on my way to Nepal and once settled in Kathmandu, I helped with other South Asian titles, contracting expert writers and identifying promising photographers. It was a collaboration that lasted for years and covered books on Sagarmatha, Indian wildlife, hikes and bike routes in Nepal, as well as comprehensive guides to Bhutan, India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101140/636b75d99c7e80680e06240djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3835" height="2716"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Meanwhile in Kathmandu, the Nepali Times was changing the landscape of informed media. Kunda’s patrician profile and startling white head of hair is a familiar sight at newsworthy events and press gatherings around town.His fearless approach and relentless satire sometimes got him into trouble, but the paper could always be relied on for an articulate opinion and a balanced view, highlighting issues where others feared to tread.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-trips-before-tripadvisor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The trips before TripAdvisor</a>, Lisa ChoegyalKunda’s gravitas was also in demand at book launches and current affairs debates. He was an unforgiving facilitator of a panel discussion that launched <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/former-army-chief-rookmangud-katawal-memoir,1567" target="_blank" rel="noopener">General Rookmangud Katawal’s autobiography</a>, probing the finer political points amidst Kathmandu’s literati.Five days prior to the 2015 earthquake, Kunda was with us on a sunny afternoon in the Dwarika’s Hotel courtyard to launch the bulky two volumes of Elizabeth Hawley’s chronicles that portrayed the evolving political and social scene in Nepal through some turbulent times from 1988 to 2007.With Kunda’s assistance on finer linguistic niceties, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2018/01/26/from-liz-hawley-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mikel Dunham</a> and I had edited her monthly journal, which faithfully recorded the recent history of Nepal in a fresh light with her relentless accuracy, and without the benefit of hindsight. It had been a laborious task sorting through her extensive dusty ring binders and ancient computer files, with many diary entries having to be transcribed by hand or digitised from obsolete soft wear. Dr Bhekh Bahadur Thapa wrote the foreword, and the Nepali Times gave the book extensive coverage.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The unsuccessful hippie</a>, Lisa ChoegyalIt was several years later that Kunda collared me on a chilly winter evening at an ambassadorial reception. Both being dog lovers, we chatted innocuously about our labradors and my boxer before he sprang it on me. Would I like to contribute a fortnightly column about tourism and conservation? I had been asked before, but Kunda must have caught me at a weak moment, because this time I took a deep breath and agreed.So, in this issue #999, I thank the Nepali Times’ team for the opportunity, and for every Friday interpreting the news for us non-Nepali-literate residents. And to say that we look forward to the next 1,000 editions.

‘Mainly fine throughout the kingdom’

<h6>As the 65th year of the first ascent approaches, the mystery of a specially blended Chivas Regal is solved</h6> <figure><img width="1400" height="1062" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6f49c7e80680e0314b5jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>YO HO HO: Lord Hunt, Lisa Choegyal, Sir Chris Bonington and Elizabeth Hawley at 40th anniversary of the Everest ascent in 1993 in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure>"I know he’s an imposter.” The short wiry man with weasel eyes hissed loudly in the row behind me, his voice husky with vehemence. “That can’t possibly be the real Duke of Argyll.”I smiled as the wail of bagpipes reverberated off the walls and the Duke sashayed his way down the length of the Hyatt ballroom in full highland dress – tight green jacket, bone buttons, clan tartan kilt and silver-mounted fur sporran swaying jauntily in time to the beat. Escorted by uniformed pipers, he bore aloft the elaborate gold-embossed bottle containing the rare 50-year-old Chivas Regal that was specially blended in a limited edition to celebrate the occasion, distilled the same year as the historic first ascent of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Top,425" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mount Everest</a> in 1953.During the golden jubilee rehearsal, his whisky colleague Peter Prentice had told me with glee: “Torquhil Argyll is wearing only his second best gear this evening -- his main outfit is listed as a national treasure and cannot leave Inveraray Castle in Scotland.”Responding to the rousing music and drama of the moment, the audience rose to their feet in spontaneous applause as the bottle, along with a large cheque for the Himalayan Trust, was presented to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14421#.Wwl37zSFN0y" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sir Edmund Hillary</a> waiting on stage flanked by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3247#.Wwl7pjSFN0x" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tenzing Norgay’s</a> relatives and members of the Sherpa community. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6f89c7e80680e0314b6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The festivities continued with Sherpa singing and dancing, feet sliding and stomping in celebration of the 50th anniversary in 2003. The men wore identical pale felt hats with their dark chubas, the women glowing in bright striped aprons, multi-coloured ribbons and intricate gold headdresses.June Hillary, resplendent in red velvet, leaned over to whisper with concern: “Seems like an awful lot of people here.” The huge room was filled with mountaineers, ambassadors, filmmakers, media, family and friends. So many had turned up that the Hyatt had to raid their freezers to ensure enough dinner for everyone.Heaps of cream silk khadas adorned the dignitaries, and guests wore distinctive turquoise sashes emblazoned with ‘Triumph on Everest’ and the date 29 May 2003, exactly 50 years after the highest mountain in the world had been scaled. Mine is still draped over a picture in my office, slightly faded but vivid with memories of that distant day that I had helped organise.Ed arrived at the Hyatt in a helicopter showering flower petals from a felicitation event with the Prime Minister, and the morning had been spent in the British Embassy garden – broadcast in real time by Television New Zealand with Nepal TV technicians.Presenting the show was New Zealand’s star host Mark Sainsbury, always genial with a quick wit lurking behind his luxuriant trademark moustache. <figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6fb9c7e80680e0314b7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Amidst the rose beds and yellow Ambassadorial residence, with a decorated elephant for added glamour, a dazzling array of Everesters rotated in front of Mark’s live microphone – multi-summiting Sherpas, veterans from the 1953 expedition, legends such as Messner, Habeler and Breashears. And of course Sir Ed, elderly and warm in the humid May sunshine. The Ambassador’s stylish French wife had set aside their study as a sanctuary for Ed and June, and I asked if they needed a shower to cool off. “Not necessary, Lisa. We’re not fussy like that!” June retorted.It was of course a British expedition in 1953, even though the first to summit were a Kiwi and Tenzing Norgay from Darjeeling. The Brits have been gracious in hosting the Everest-Sagarmatha-Chomolungma anniversaries ever since. Elizabeth Hawley and Chris Bonington took me to the 1993 40th celebration in the Ambassador’s drawing room where I met the original expedition’s fearsome leader Lord John Hunt, mellowed into a charming old man. In 2013 the 60th took place in the Defence Attache’s house as the Residence was undergoing timely earthquake strengthening.The then-Chief Secretary (now Nepal Ambassador to China) and Everest leader Leela Mani Paudyal did the honours, with Reinhold Messner and New Zealand’s Lydia Bradey jointly cutting an anniversary cake, their speeches lost to a faulty microphone. And next week the 65th will again be marked by Nepal, Britain and New Zealand.It was three years after the Kathmandu golden jubilee that Torquhil and Peter asked me to arrange another Chivas ceremony, this time close to the Hillary home in a classy Auckland restaurant full of showy begonias and New Zealand wine masters, hosted by their Paris-based boss.The plan was to present Sir Ed with another large cheque for the Himalayan Trust and in return to retrieve the most expensive bottle of whisky of all time for the Chivas Brothers Archive in Speyside, Scotland’s oldest distillery, where it now resides.There was some confusion and red faces when it came to finding the precious bottle – for safekeeping it had been carried back from Nepal to UK, but a search of Torquhil’s rambling Scottish castle drew a blank. To widespread relief it was eventually tracked down in the bottom left-hand drawer of the brand manager’s desk in the London office.That balmy summer evening in New Zealand, Sir Ed had as usual prepared notes for his speech. On the back of an old envelope in spidery handwriting, he muddled up whom he was thanking for what bottle and for which cheque. I gently put him right, but I do regret not having kept that envelope.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/Interview-with-Amelia-Hillary-grand-daughter-of-Sir-Edmund-Hillary,2443" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Third generation Hilary</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3170#.Wwl5VjSFN0x" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sherpa Hillary</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/hillary-clinton-meets-edmund-hillary,994" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hillary meets Hillary</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/funeral-of-Sir-Edmund-Hillary,1100" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sir Ed's funeral</a>

Past Everest anniversaries

Where will Nepal be in 2050? It is only 25 years away. The country’s population will be peaking at 36 million, the poverty rate will drop to near zero. Maternal and child mortality rates will fall further. Nepal will be generating up to 40,000MW of hydro and solar power, more than half of that for export. Upgraded highways will improve connectivity, railways will make transport cheaper. Pokhara and Birganj will only be two hours away from Kathmandu. Nijgad airport could be Nepal’s new aviation hub, reducing Kathmandu’s congestion. Nepal will hitch its wagon to the engines of economic growth in India and China. Investment and job creation will reduce outmigration, Nepal's data centres will be powered with surplus electricity. Remote areas will prosper with high-value tourists. That is if all goes well. But if Nepal’s politics remains dysfunctional with incompetent leadership, then the country will muddle along as it is doing now. Society will be more unequal, public discontent may boil over as politicians resort to faith to hide failures, the exodus abroad of youth will continue. Climate breakdown will exacerbate these crises. Global average temperature will have risen to 2.7°C above pre-industrial levels (it is 1.1°C now). The remaining Himalayan icecap will shrink by half, glacial lakes will threaten valleys. The hydrology of rivers will change, reducing dry season flow. Severe and prolonged heat waves in the Tarai will force people to migrate back to the mountains. In the final analysis, it all boils down to a political system that is more accountable, and displays more integrity and efficiency. <h2>Mission 2050</h2> · Melamchi Water Supply Project · Pokhrara International Airport · Bhairawa International Airport · Upper Tama Kosi Hydroelectric Project . Kathmandu-Tarai Expressway What do these biggest infrastructure projects in Nepal have in common? All ended up being more expensive than they should, all have been delayed and are not fully operational, two were badly damaged in climate-related disasters that should have been foreseen. The $800 million Melamchi is Nepal’s most expensive infrastructure project to date. It took 30 years to build, but was nearly destroyed by a glacial debris flow in June 2021. The headworks need major repairs. The 456MW Upper Tama Kosi was severely damaged by a rockfall and floods in last September’s floods. It is still not operating at full capacity, and other hydropower plants were damaged in recent glacial floods. Pokhara and Bhairawa airports were supposed to be the new aviation gateways to Nepal to take the pressure off Kathmandu, and become game changers for tourism and pilgrimage. Nearly three years later, both handle domestic flights. Poor and inadequate design, kickbacks on contracts, cost overruns, failure of diplomacy to get India’s nod on air routes, and lack of planning and marketing have made the airports a pair of white elephants. Some of these setbacks can be blamed on natural calamities, but mostly it is political incompetence and greed, lack of accountability and poor implementation. That is no surprise, since these are the hallmarks of doing business in Nepal, often delaying projects, adding to the cost, and even when completed they are already outdated. That is the story of the last 25 years, are the next 25 going to be any different? Not if governance does not improve. “What we really need for the future is vision, idea, and understanding, and then the domestic capacity to implement them,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya, who laments the total absence of technical and planning expertise. “None of our national highways meet technical standards, our cities are unplanned. The priority was never on quality. Politicians sold us short-term infrastructure that have now become a barrier to prosperity,” he adds. One silver lining has been private sector involvement in hydropower, and the energy strategy aims to generate 11,769MW by 2030. But hydropower is high-investment, high-risk due to climate breakdown, and ecologically damaging. “Hydropower is a good example of how government incentives and public-private partnership can work wonders, although we now have to take climate change into account,” explains economist Kalpana Khanal of the Policy Research Institute. She adds, “We now have to identify other key infrastructure areas that also enhance the growth of other sectors.” The National Planning Commission’s periodic plans guide overall social and economic strategy for the country into the coming decade. Nepal’s current five-year plan (2024-2029) has set a target of 7.3% annual economic growth against the current 3.9%, $2,351 per capita income up from $1,456 at present, and poverty reduction to 12%. The plan aims to export nearly half the hydropower generated by 2030, earning the country Rs41 billion annually. But there is no real coordination between line agencies, and bureaucratic lethargy leads to constant delays, says former member of the National Planning Commission (NPC) Min Bahadur Shahi. “Development in Nepal is still very much synonymous with building roads and bridges, and infrastructure is rudimentary,” he says. “Elsewhere in the world, digital infrastructure and governance go hand in hand, we are far behind.” The frustration of a man who served in the National Planning Commission is an indication where the problem lies: in actually executing plans and implementing strategies. “We need to prioritise projects based on our geography, climate, societal needs,” Shahi continues. “We want to push Nijgad airport when we can’t even operate Pokhara and Bhairawa. Have we even studied potential air routes and needs of international carriers?”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726070744_0547e5a7fd4424b5de8c279cab637ee7ebd9e65f2673b15e6dbd4eb2aa2524f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250726070744_0547e5a7fd4424b5de8c279cab637ee7ebd9e65f2673b15e6dbd4eb2aa2524f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Pokhara airport"><figcaption>NO FLY ZONE: Pokhara airport was supposed to be the new aviation gateway to Nepal but nearly three years after its inaguration, it mostly handles domestic flights. Photo: RADHIKA KANDEL </figcaption></figure>  TARGET PRACTICE Export of hydropower, manpower and lately information technology are the mainstays of Nepal’s economy, and will carry the country to its graduation from Least Developed Country status to a developing country in November 2026, and hopefully to middle-income by 2030. Nepal has an installed capacity of about 3,800MW, most of it from hydropower, and increased adoption of electric cars has reduced the import of petroleum products, decreasing the trade deficit with India. Meanwhile, Nepalis abroad sent home $11 billion in remittances last year, and at least $900 million in backend IT exports. But demographer Yogendra B Gurung is not impressed: “Despite the reduction in the poverty rate, and our improving income status, life expectancy, income, even maternal and infant mortality are not on par with countries with similar economic status.” He says relying on remittances is an unsustainable economic model, vulnerable to external factors and remittances are mostly spent on day-to-day needs, and not invested in productive sectors. Remittance is credited with reducing poverty in Nepal which is down to 20.27% from 42% in 1990. Money sent home by workers abroad has allowed families to afford basic healthcare and education, in turn helping to reduce childhood malnutrition and maternal mortality while improving female literacy. But the progress has stalled in recent years, and many doubt Nepal will meet its Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) targets. The National Planning Commission has said Nepal is likely to achieve just 60% of the targets by 2030. Sex ratio at birth, which is 112 boys to 100 girls in Nepal in particular, is worrying, as it is much higher than the biological ratio of 105 to 100. This is much more pronounced in Karnali, Sudurpaschim and Madhes Provinces which suffer from historical neglect. Despite a rise in female literacy, patriarchy is still deeply entrenched and the provinces are behind the rest of the country for gender equality, education, healthcare, nutrition and economic opportunities. “Karnali is resource-rich, especially hydropower and the recent discovery of the methane gas, but inequality is much greater,” says Shahi, who is with the Karnali Integrated Rural Development and Research Centre (KIRDARC). “Federalism in Nepal is only on paper, we need a total structural reform to devolve political power to really bring about change.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726070744_fd4a218656e1fbf6f13f5f87a47bfe624516c6a0232481b6be77875ae866deb9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250726070744_fd4a218656e1fbf6f13f5f87a47bfe624516c6a0232481b6be77875ae866deb9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Butwal-Narayangadh "><figcaption>The Daunne section of the Butwal-Narayangadh road notorious for traffic jams and accidents, it has been in never-ending construction for three years. Photo: BISHNU PRASAD GAUDEL / RSS </figcaption></figure>  Despite limited resources, Nepal also suffers from wasteful investment as a result of politically (mis)guided decision-making, instead of people-centric plans and policies, says demographer Gurung. “People are overwhelmingly moving to the cities but our leaders are hell bent on building roads to every village and now there are empty schools in the mountains,” he adds. Nepal needs data-driven planning but its long-term economic vision 2020-44 seems more of a wish-list than realistic goals, including average annual GDP growth of 10.5%, $12,000 per capita income and population under the absolute poverty line at 0. Other goals include raising electricity generation capacity to 40,000MW, access to motor transport to 99%, life expectancy at birth to 80, maternal mortality down to 20% and literacy to 99% and 100% access to the internet, among others. Meanwhile, Nepal is committed to net-zero by 2045 and 100% renewable energy by 2050. “Our planners have no idea what kind of infrastructure we need 20, 30 years down the line to sustain and accelerate growth. We need a big structural change in the political leadership, in technocratic planning, and for policy implementation,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya. Meeting such targets would require large investment, and it would be unwise to rely on remittances for the longer run, especially as Nepal’s demographic dividend will diminish as it turns into an aged society by 2065. Reversing out migration requires a favourable investment climate so jobs are created. Good governance marked by accountability and transparency are the basic prerequisite for ease of doing business. But lack of rule of law and illicit funds put Nepal in the grey list of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF), the global money-laundering watchdog. “Everything comes down to a political will. The established parties must realise that if they don’t perform, they will be replaced by alternatives,” says Kalpana Khanal. “In the meantime, we must engage the youth and find ways to retain them as well as attract the diaspora to invest in Nepal.”

Nepal in 2050

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

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

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

Nepal’s Resource Curse

Cabinet Shrestha of Agni Group and investor-slash-mentor was listening to a pitch recently from a bead shop owner from Chitwan on Himalaya TV’s new hit reality show Shark Tank Nepal. Shrestha liked what he heard, and offered Sandhya Gaire Poudel of Sandhya Pote House Rs2 million for 35% equity plus profit with an exit after three years. She had taught herself to make traditional Nepali glass bead necklaces, starting with just Rs5,000 and selling them straight to married women through TikTok. She has trained 5,000 women in necklace making, and with the Rs 2 million investment can expand to take bigger orders all over Nepal. “So after three years, I give you back 20 lakh?” asked Paudel. Cabinet Shrestha laughed and replied: “20 lakh plus profit, म त ब्यापारी हो नि.” Cabinet Shreshta handles the Mahindra dealership and has his hand in many other businesses. Paudel gleefully accepted the Rs2 million offer, and there was applause from the studio audience. Shark Tank Nepal, a franchise reality show, was first launched in Japan in 2001 as ‘Tigers of Money’ and has since been adapted in 54 countries under various names. Entrepreneurs pitch their businesses to a panel of investors, who grill them about the details of their venture before deciding whether or not to extend deals for stakes in the company. This is the first season with 20 episodes of the show in Nepal, each an hour-and-a-half long on Wednesdays and Thursdays on Himalaya TV, and will soon also be streamed on its YouTube Channel. Besides Shrestha, the four other sharks are: Hem Raj Dhakal of IME Group, Ritu Singh Vaidya of VOITH Group, Anand Bagaria of Nimbus, and Saurabh Jyoti of the Padma Jyoti Group of Companies. It is gripping television because the audience does not know which pitch will be successful. It is also educational because it shows what entrepreneurship is all about — all one needs is an idea that flies. But there is a larger message that Shark Tank Nepal is broadcasting: that not everyone is hell bent on leaving the country. “Its a step in the right direction, and a breath of fresh air,” says Ashutosh Tiwari, an entrepreneurship consultant himself. “The businesses are all different: their age, caste, gender, ethnicity, where they were born or raised in Nepal, what they studied (or didn’t study), and what work they’ve done.” He continues, “It also shows on national tv the important skill of having to persuade absolute strangers to invest in you. Business plans and advising events is great, but the real help for entrepreneurs comes from the exchange of other people’s cold hard cash that they are accountable for.” Social media is also a major player in the show. Not only as a medium to promote Shark Tank, with behind-the-scenes and meet-the-shark type content but also as a place where a lot of the businesses being pitched sell their goods. Most of the business ideas are related to tech, food and beverage, or clothing and skincare, and many of the entrepreneurs are women. Some of the more interesting pitches include a dehydrated carrot cake, a completely organic and bio-degradable skincare brand, and a couple who turned interior design careers into a booming furniture business. One of the biggest deals accepted was Hem Raj Dhakal’s decision to invest Rs60 million in the tech company Veda which started off as a simple notification app facilitating communication between schools and parents, and grew into an international company that provides complete employee resources for schools including payroll and analytics for student performance data.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250724130728_cfd2ca117499c0613fa271970aeac37b6e04c6a9f3194510c6b9253805746dd8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250724130728_cfd2ca117499c0613fa271970aeac37b6e04c6a9f3194510c6b9253805746dd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="928" height="594" loading="lazy" alt="Swimming with sharks "><figcaption>Photo: VEDA/ FACEBOOK </figcaption></figure>  “I feel that the sharks have learned as much from the pitchers that they have gotten from us,” says Shrestha. “We’ve learned a lot about markets that we have no expertise in. They have gotten us back in touch about how the younger generation is thinking.” Shrestha notes that Nepalis seem to be naturally gifted at tech, and he likes to see how the pitchers have ‘localised’ or put their own twists on business ideas. The show has received a lot of positive feedback, especially from young Nepalis studying abroad, some of whom may now be thinking of moving back. Despite its popularity, Shark Tank Nepal took a long time to get sponsors and entrepreneurs. Director Simosh Sunuwar, known for his adventure-based reality show Himalayan Roadies, says: “It was hard to get participants who were afraid that their business ideas would get stolen with Nepal’s weak trademark laws. Of the applications we did receive, many did not meet all the criteria. Some were missing balance sheets…” Sunuwar says given how busy the Sharks are, it was difficult to find a stretch of time in which they were all free. “Even when we have them, their phones are going off non-stop,” he says. The solution was a fifteen-day stretch that worked for all Sharks, with multiple sets of clothes for continuity. By the end, the Sharks were shooting up to 15 hours a day, hearing up to 13 pitches a day. While all the shooting is done early, post-production editing for clarity and length is still ongoing as the episodes air. Like all of reality TV, how much of Shark Tank Nepal is scripted? Tiwari thinks that the show feels “slick, a little over scripted at times”. Sunuwar reveals that it is a mix: “As director, I do have to coach the pitchers and the Sharks on how to say certain things, but at the end of the day the Sharks are who they are and they are all very nice and genuine people. My job is to make them comfortable being themselves. They get nervous too.” The Sharks are quick to sniff out iffy businesses, like a skincare brand that was only packaged in Nepal and claimed competitors were misrepresenting ingredients. The Nepali version of Shark Tank may lack the drama of the US version, and the Sharks do not live up to the ruthless reputation of the sea predator. This means it is a feel-good show that Nepali audiences prefer. When bowing out of deals, the Sharks are exceedingly graceful, often offering other sorts of help such as networking or contacts to soften the ‘no’. OLD MONEY Two or more Sharks often go in together on joint deals, maybe because there are only so many ‘shark-level’ entrepreneurs in Nepal. The funniest parts of the show are when Sharks talk ‘candidly’ in between pitches. But more shark-like Sharks would give the show a more dramatic feel. In one case, the Sharks agree to fund a business that repackages sanitary pads for ‘CSR’ purposes, which betrays the premise of the show. Some of the criticism online about the choice of Sharks is that besides Hem Raj Dhakal, they all come from old money families, and had considerable head starts in life and business. “But you can’t fault this right now,” says Tiwari, “there are very few self-made successful entrepreneurs in Nepal, and trading is a legitimate business that has made multimillionaires in the alcohol business in the US, for example.” The friendlier Sharks do make for more deals, though. In the first season, investment from the Sharks totaled Rs400 million, in contrast to Rs420 million in the Indian version of the show and Rs170 million for the Bangladesh version. While the show is pioneering, Tiwari notes that it is more glamorous, and glosses over the gritty parts of business in Nepal. “The reality is that there is a government, and a registrar that you have to visit every year. There are rental taxes, penalties, and fines. Businesses don’t get immediate payments, and are often only profitable on paper, which makes it very difficult for them to operate. The investment that they get from the Sharks will give them some working capital, some oxygen.” Director Sunuwar is grateful for the reception: “It’s great that viewers have welcomed Shark Tank, and I hope it will encourage young entrepreneurs. We’re already getting applications for the next season, and I am excited to make it better, perhaps with different sharks.”