When a deadly debris flow on the night of 12 July swept two intercity buses into the Trisuli River along the Mugling highway, it took more than an hour for rescue to arrive as shocked survivors groped in the darkness. One bus had left Kathmandu for Gaur with 36 passengers the previous evening. The other was heading to the capital from Birganj, carrying 26 passengers.&nbsp; Three passengers managed to escape from broken windows and climb back up to the road in pouring rain. They then sought help from vehicles stuck on either side of the landslide to get themselves to the hospital.&nbsp; Security forces and the Chitwan District Administration Office reached the site soon after they were notified. A team from the Armed Police Force’s Disaster Management Training School (DMTS) in Kurintar arrived soon after. The Nepal Army division in Bharatpur was notified at 4:30AM, and a Quick Response Team (QRT) was immediately dispatched. Nepal Army divers arrived in the morning. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon">Managing the monsoon</a>, Ngamindra Dahal In the fortnight since the tragedy, up to 500 trained rescuers have been working to find the buses (pictured). So far, the bodies of 25 passengers have been recovered, two from downstream in India. A 12-member team from the Indian National Disaster Response Force also arrived to help in the search. “Search and rescue operations in an accident like this typically last for 10 days,” says Khimananda Bhushal of the District Administration Office in Chitwan. “But we have to keep going until we locate the buses.”&nbsp; Rescuers have used rafts, anchors, air and water drones, as well as magnets to search for the missing buses and the remaining passengers. The Indian team is said to have sonar for the underwater search.&nbsp; “We have dedicated units for disaster response in our security forces, we have enough trained manpower to respond to most disasters,” says Bharat Mani Pandey, former joint secretary of the NDRRMA (National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority).&nbsp; The Nepal Police has 1,250 personnel while the Nepal Army has more than 1,200 members assigned for disaster risk reduction and management. There are 2,500 others in the APF with disaster management training. All districts have District Disaster Management Committees.&nbsp; <h2>Water</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240725120744_85a258a01d47c487c753ca6433a3b168b2f45f0391c039252de7aef0cecc1c5f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240725120744_85a258a01d47c487c753ca6433a3b168b2f45f0391c039252de7aef0cecc1c5f" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2410" loading="lazy" alt="101, 102, 103"> <figcaption>Photo: RSS(Photo: Shristi Karki)</figcaption> </figure>  So far this monsoon, 133 people have died in floods, landslides and drownings and 147 others people have sustained injuries. Seven people across the country are missing.&nbsp; Many of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/highway-accidents-are-no-accident-in-nepal">highway fatalities</a> are a combination of bad roads that are not built to be safe during monsoon rains. The road network has expanded, there are more hospitals with trauma care and ambulances, but Emergency Medical Technicians (EMT) are still not available in much of Nepal. Most ambulances are actually just ordinary vans to trasnport the injured to hospitals, with no specialised emergency care equipment. Much of Nepal’s pre-hospital emergency care is dependent on bystanders and passersby who self-mobilise to get injured people to hospital after accidents, especially on Nepal’s rural highways where ambulances and EMTs cannot reach on time. But even though well-intentioned, such first responders are rarely trained in emergency care and protocols. In many cases, improper handling of the injured does more harm than good.&nbsp; <h2>Roads</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240725120744_27952fa8765f1b0178c1b42e7968084bad8538d40d082e4af787408d9ecab6be.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240725120744_27952fa8765f1b0178c1b42e7968084bad8538d40d082e4af787408d9ecab6be" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="845" loading="lazy" alt="101, 102, 103"> <figcaption>Photo: RSS(Photo: sher bahadur shing)</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-s-other-pandemic-road-fatalities">Road Traffic Accidents (RTAs) take more lives annually in Nepal than</a> floods, landslides, plane crashes, and other accidents and ‘natural’ disasters put together. There have been 21,287 road mishaps in Nepal so far in 2024, resulting in 2,198 fatalities and 5,713 serious injuries.&nbsp; The Nepal Ambulance Guidelines 2021 defines an ambulance as ‘a vehicle to transport patients that include ambulance equipment, sirens, GPS, a trained driver and an EMT’.&nbsp; But there are only 705 ambulances equipped with GPS across the country, and only 81 offically approved. Ambulances have to be certified as Type A Advanced Life Support (ALS) ambulances, or Type B Basic Life Support (BLS) ambulances. There are 119 trained EMTs and 929 trained ambulance drivers certified by Nepal’s National Health Training Center. Meanwhile, there are 30 trained dispatchers who work out of 11 ambulance dispatch centres across the country. These dispatchers respond to 102, the emergency number for ambulance services in Nepal.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">ROADKILL</a>, Sonia Awale The Nepal Red Cross Society (NRCS) operates 242 Type A, 60 Type, and 182 Type C ambulances across Nepal. Type C is essentially a normal transport vehicle. And while accessibility, technology, and skilled human resources were always a challenge for Nepal and its relatively basic pre-hospital services, this was made glaringly obvious during the 2015 earthquake, says Bal Krishna Sedai, deputy director of the NRCS. “We realised that Nepal’s pre-hospital care system was in no way prepared to handle mass casualty events,” Sedai explains.&nbsp; Ambulances are a 24-hour service, but Nepal’s laws state that no individual can work for more than eight hours. This means each ambulance would need three EMTs and three drivers and that is near impossible because of budget constraints. “The government has been unable to allocate enough human resources to sustain pre-hospital care,” adds Sedai. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-air-ambulance-saves-mothers">Nepal's air ambulance save mothers</a> Nepal’s topography hinders first responders from getting to accident or disaster sites on time, even though they are ideally supposed to be there within 15 minutes in the Tarai, and within 30 minutes in the mountains.&nbsp; Says Sedai: “We urgently need to map where ambulances need to be stationed across the country in order to provide effective service, and this must take into account Nepal’s geography and population density.” <h2>Quakes</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240725120744_2159d1a80ac5d0310f5d69041ed8e341124e86b4487262b529549aed63ac9dd2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240725120744_2159d1a80ac5d0310f5d69041ed8e341124e86b4487262b529549aed63ac9dd2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="101, 102, 103"> </figure>  Disaster response and management is perhaps most critical in times of mega-disasters like earthquakes that Nepal is prone to. Himalayan seismologists have warned that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/learning-from-jajarkot-what-we-didnt-after-2015-695vpzle">2015 was not the Big One</a>, and neither was the Jajarkot earthquake last November. Yet, the country remains unprepared. Among others, it lacks modern equipment for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Search-locate-%20rescue-in-collapsed-concrete-houses,3676">search and rescue from reinforced concrete buildings</a>. In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/jajarkot-one-month-after-the-earthquake">aftermath of the Jajarkot earthquake</a>, 915 Nepal Army, 853 Nepal Police, and 35 APF personnel had been deployed for search, rescue, and relief by the 10th day after the disaster. “A mega quake in western Nepal will impact the whole country, including northern India. This is a level of disaster the whole country needs to be prepared for, not just western Nepal,” Surya Narayan Shrestha of the National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET) <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/turkey-and-nepal-face-similar-seismic-risks">wrote in Nepali Times last year</a>. “Given how disaster-prone we know Nepal is, we must seriously put our efforts and money into reducing the risks.”&nbsp; While ambulance services have been integrated to operate under the 102-dispatch system across Nepal following the National Ambulance Guidelines 2021, experts say that Nepal needs an integrated emergency response system. At present, emergency numbers 100, 101, 102, and 103 puts people in touch with the police, fire services, ambulance services, and traffic police respectively. Former NDRRMA Joint Secretary Bharat Mani Pandey coordinated an 11-member task force earlier this year that included members from key ministries as well as security forces to develop an integrated emergency information system so they do not have to dial different numbers for police, ambulance, or fire. &nbsp; “We found that police is the most contacted agency even when people are in need of ambulance or fire rescue services,” says Pandey. “We must have a command centre that incorporates different emergency service providers into an integrated response system.”&nbsp; <h2>Fire</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240725120744_6c338449143818aa97b9e6cfbe391104cfa2f19f532df508bd373106393fd3e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20240725120744_6c338449143818aa97b9e6cfbe391104cfa2f19f532df508bd373106393fd3e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="101, 102, 103"> <figcaption>Photo: BIJAYABAR PRADHAN(Photo: Shristi Karki)</figcaption> </figure>  Fire support services are in an even woeful state, especially given the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/smoke-screen">record-breaking wildfires</a> threatening settlements this year. There are only 211 fire brigades in Nepal, which means one fire engine per 110,254 people across the country. More than 1,100 people have died in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/going-up-in-smoke">forest fires</a> and household fires in the last decade.&nbsp; “Our fire response system is very weak to put it bluntly,” admits Sundar Sharma at the NDRRMA. “211 fire brigades is not nearly enough, and we do not have enough trained firefighters and first responders.”&nbsp; ---- As it is, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-an-emergency-nepal-needs-to-improve-trauma-care">trauma care and infrastructure are inaccessible</a> to a large number of Nepalis. Tertiary hospitals that specialise in trauma and critical care are largely centralised in urban areas, and the rescue, ambulance, and medevac fees are unaffordable for most. There is also limited clarity and knowledge of which hospitals and health institutions are primary, secondary, or tertiary, which is crucial for emergency responders and medical professionals to direct trauma patients to relevant hospitals on a case-by-case basis. That way, first responders can triage survivors of accidents and disasters. “There is a weak link in our life-saving mechanisms between accident sites and hospitals, and we do not have enough trained emergency responders,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/injured-use-internet-to-get-rehab-care">Raju Dhakal of the Spinal Injury Rehabilitation Centre in Sanga</a> told Nepali Times, citing a spate of highway mishaps killed more than two dozen people and injured many more within a week last year. He added: “Even not-critical injuries become life-threatening because police and rescuers do not reach accident sites on time, or are not trained in handling spine or head injuries.” &nbsp;&nbsp;

Shristi Karki

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100, 101, 102

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101132/636b73eb9c7e80680e062365jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="911"/><figcaption>Photo: NATIONAL TRAUMA CENTRE</figcaption></figure>Speeding along a narrow winding mountain road in Dhading, a heavily intoxicated truck driver lost control of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-deadly-roads-take-their-toll/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">vehicle</a> and it overturned, killing seven and severely injuring 34 passengers hitching a ride.This was a mass trauma incident that required immediate attention, but <a href="http://nationaltraumacenter.gov.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s only trauma care centre</a> was located in Kathmandu, 90km away via bumpy roads jammed with traffic.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=40249&amp;preview_nonce=aefd82ecbe&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">injured use Internet to reach physiotherapists in Nepal</a>, Sonia AwaleMost passengers from the truck accident were taken to nearby hospitals in Dhading, but the 21 most critical patients were airlifted or driven in ambulances to the National Trauma Centre in Kathmandu.“It had already taken a while to bring the patients to the Trauma Centre, so we had to act quickly once they were here,’’ recalls Pramod Yadav, acting medical superintendent at the facility.The standard protocol for trauma care is the triage system -- determining the priority of treatment based on the severity of injury. Doctors at the National Trauma Centre quickly designated yellow, green and red codes to patients to ensure that those in critical condition were taken care of first, and fast.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/accident-prone-Mugling-Narayangadi-highway,3828" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Unblocking an artery</a>, Sanjeev SharmaOn-call doctors were contacted and began assessing the patient’s injuries. But without a functioning MRI and a faulty CT machine, some had to be sent to private clinics and later returned to the hospital.This is a recurring event for patients seeking immediate care at the government-run Trauma Centre where patients in critical condition have to be moved about from one facility to another for tests.“We cannot afford an MRI machine, it is very expensive to repair our CT machines, we have limited trolley beds and only 11 ICU beds when we need more than 50,” says Yadav. “We are requesting the government for Rs420 million to become a real trauma centre, especially since we are the only one in the country.”There were 60,000 severe trauma injuries in Nepal in the last year, a 3,000 increase from the previous year, and a whopping 27,000 over the year before that. Like with all government-run medical centres, the Trauma Centre lacks resources, is under-staffed, and is incapable of handling this exponential increase.“In the last two, three years, falls, physical assault, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-deadly-roads-take-their-toll/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">road traffic accidents</a>, sports injuries and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/burning-in-the-aftermath,3757" target="_blank" rel="noopener">burns</a> have been the leading causes of trauma,” lists  Siddhartha Dhungana, the Medical Record Officer at the National Trauma Centre. “Head injuries and multi-organ failures have been the highest causes of death in these cases.”Most hospitals in Nepal, like the National Trauma Centre, follow the World Health Organisation’s trauma protocol. During a trauma case, medical personnel are contacted as soon as possible, patients are screened, their needs are identified and necessary care is given.Although the government has not developed a standard care protocol for trauma like it has for cancer patients, private hospitals have implemented and refined their own systems based on WHO guidelines.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/politics-behind-epidemic-of-hospital-vandalism,3578" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Om Hospital</a>’s Continuing Medical Education Program is at the forefront of teaching trauma care to new doctors and providing courses on improved techniques to existing doctors.“We make sure that the ABCs of trauma care are followed strictly and that blood is readily available be it from our blood bank or staff-chain blood donors,” says Binod Adhikari of Om, which handles dozens of cases every day and has systems in place to coordinate between doctors, nurses and critical care anesthesiologists to provide emergency care to patients.<h2>Ambulance chasers</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101132/636b73ee9c7e80680e062366jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Most of Nepal's ambulances are just jeeps with stretchers, with no life-support systems or medical attendants. It was only in 2011 that Nepal’s first emergency medical service was established. Supported by the Patan Academy of Health Sciences and the Stanford University School of Medicine, Nepal Ambulance Service (NAS) has since trained more than 100 emergency medical technicians (EMTs) and ambulance drivers and operates the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18888#.XjvhpTIzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">'Dial 102' service</a>. NAS operates mainly in Kathmandu Valley, Pokhara, Chitwan, Butwal and Bhairawa.“Before this, only few private hospitals had ambulances and they were used mainly for patient transfer rather than pre-hospital care,” says Hari Khadka, a paramedic at <a href="https://www.grandehospital.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Grande International Hospital</a> and a member of the first EMT batch of NAS. “Ten years ago, there was simply no concept of pre-hospital care or paramedics in Nepal.”Now, many hospitals have their own EMS systems with mostly Type 3 ambulances that have first aid kits and basic medical supplies. <a href="https://www.nrcs.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal Red Cross Society</a> (NRCS) operates 283 ambulances nationwide. Although not every ambulance carries a paramedic, every driver has received first aid training.“We have five Type 2 ambulances and a paramedic in each vehicle,” says Bipul Neupane of NRCS. “We send these ambulances to patients who need basic life support systems.”But for patients needing critical care in remote areas, there is no recourse but expensive helicopter medical evacuation.Like Type 1 ambulances, some of these helicopters can have doctors, ventilators, advanced life support, and EMTs.“EMS has helped save many lives in Nepal but it isn’t always the best option considering the geography of Nepal and the condition of the roads,” says Sanjaya Karki, Head of the Emergency Department at <a href="https://www.nepalmediciti.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal Mediciti Hospital</a>. “Helicopter Emergency Medical Services ensure that we can get to critical patients as quickly as possible and provide the best pre-hospital care.”

It’s an emergency: Nepal needs to improve trauma care

‘One early morning, we heard the ambassador’s wife cry out, “Ram, Ram, Ram!” A disaster has befallen Nepal!” She had heard on the radio that a fire had consumed Singha Durbar." This is not about the arson attack on 9 September 2025, but the one on 8 July, 1973. It started in the South Wing of the then single-largest building in all of Nepal. It took two days to bring the blaze under control, requiring the use of explosives to demolish one wing to protect the imposing western facade. As Bhekh Bahadur Thapa recalls in the English translation of his memoir A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy, he was then on leave from the Nepal government serving with the IDRC in Ottawa.&nbsp; He had already served as Nepal’s Finance Secretary at age 25, went on to be Finance Minister and Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank. He was already younger than some of the GenZ ministers in Nepal’s present RSP government. Thapa, now 89, was at the launch of the book in February which was attended by former diplomats and bureaucrats. After speeches by panelists, there was a question from the audience about how Thapa had managed to be the diplomat he was, managing Nepal’s international relations on the world stage.&nbsp; Writer and journalist Akhilesh Upadhyay, who was moderating the panel, responded by going into the section of the book where we see Thapa as an ambassador to the US, playing tennis with White House officials, cultivating a network of contacts to project the identity and welfare of Nepal, and making it possible for a state visit by King Birendra to Ronald Reagan’s America. The book is full of anecdotes that suggest Thapa was a clever and strategic diplomat, always calm and unruffled, easily making friends in high places with his maturity and engaging sense of humour. Thapa’s memoir is heavy on details about Nepal’s administrative history during the years he was active in public service, serving as minister and ambassador under three kings: Mahendra, Birendra and Gyanendra, and alongside five prime ministers.&nbsp; Aside from an insider look on how certain treaties, development deals and research projects in Nepal came into fruition, Thapa goes into great detail about his personal and professional relationships with the kings, ministers, ambassadors, foreign leaders and politicians.&nbsp; As a reader, one is struck by the level of detail around the events that unfolded in Nepal over the years during Thapa’s tenure. Was Thapa recording a journal over the years of the events and the conversations that transpired, or were they committed to his phenomenal memory? Either way, the reader gets a glimpse of Nepal’s recent history from the early days of the Panchayat, through the People’s Movement and the democracy period, the Maoist insurgency, Royal Palace massacre of 2001, and Gyanendra’s coup of 2005.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1584" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How to win friends and influence nations NT"> </figure>  Not enough is said about the political parties of the time whose presence led to the way Nepal’s multiparty democracy came to be shaped. The book keeps its focus on the administration and the key figures around it, mostly those in the Panchayat era. Towards the second half of the book, we do start to hear about political parties, but not in great depth. Another figure whose presence in the book is conspicuously less prominent is that of his wife, Rita Thapa — the person who seems to have rescued him every time financial quandary or family care became a challenge. Yet, we do not see her as a full person. Perhaps because of the personal tragedies in his life, the children are also barely mentioned.&nbsp; The book is therefore less personal and more technical. Throughout, we learn about Thapa’s thinking as he navigated the world of diplomacy to win him the trust of those who mattered. There are tips here for a new generation of Nepali officials and diplomats about how much commitment and focus is needed to be good at one’s job and serve the national interest. This book adds to tomes that have been written on Nepal’s fragile relationship with India. ‘India has always wished for Nepal to remain dependent on it,’ writes Thapa, who served as Nepal’s ambassador to India and later in the Eminent Persons Group &nbsp;on Indo-Nepal relations that has been allowed to languish. The book has several insights into the Indo-Nepal trysts with diplomacy and agency.&nbsp; China’s role is also recorded, viewed through conversations during a visit to Beijing, but all that was before Nepal’s neighbour to the north emerged as a world economic and military power. The book also has such sudden instances of quirkiness and humour. For instance, we see a young Thapa in America explaining to a government official why he would like to return to Nepal instead of settling down in the US. “Because, Nepal is beautiful,” he said. The text is immaculate and does not read much like a translation, credit for which clearly goes to the team that put the edition together: translator Prawin Adhikari, &nbsp;Anagha Neelakanthan and Bhekh Thapa’s daughter, Manjushree. As Nepal enters a new era of governance and diplomacy, A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy should be essential reading for students of political science, economics and foreign affairs who can gain a fresh perspective on the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; There are dozens of forgotten state secrets recorded in the book, but the reader must also remember this is a story told from one person’s perspective and there may be others.&nbsp; So, what really made Thapa the diplomat he was? I met him in 2004 at the Kantipur TV studio when he was serving as king Gyanendra’s foreign minister. He was there for a studio interview, and I was just done with my English newscast.&nbsp; He surprised me at the door: “Pratibha! I’ve been reading your articles in The Kathmandu Post. You must keep writing.” I thanked him, glad to have been noticed for my work by a stranger. That was perhaps one of the things that set Thapa apart — he excelled at staying close to those in power, while also noticing those who were not.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Book details"> </figure>

How to win friends and influence nations

This is the 91st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I have still not come to terms with the reality that my daughter Ruby Thakur is now the Deputy Speaker of Nepal’s Parliament. Sometimes, when I am walking, the thought hits me, and I cannot believe it.&nbsp; Things changed for my daughter in a very short time. I had dreamt that the best my daughter could achieve was a good engineering job. Fate had bigger plans for her. She is no longer just my daughter, she is the nation’s daughter. Nepal’s daughter.&nbsp; My children’s education was always my foremost priority. That is the main reason I went overseas for employment. I realised the value of education while working in Saudi Arabia. In my office, colleagues with good education earn $8,000 per month working on computers. Those with low education toil outdoors in the heat for much lower wages. A good education or skills can change everything. I am in Nepal on vacation and will soon return to my job. Ruby is all set now. But I still have to take care of my other children's education. As the eldest son, I myself never got a chance to prioritise my own education. I dropped out in Grade 7 because I had to take care of my ageing parents and younger siblings. I have done all kinds of jobs. I worked in a landlord’s field for a share of the harvest. Even now my wife and I farm for the land owner and have to give away half of what we grow.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> <figcaption>Sogarath Thakur during a break in Nepal with wife tending to his farm.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  Then I worked as a barber, my family’s line of occupation. I went door to door cutting people’s hair and later worked in a relative’s saloon. Hairstyles were simple back then, and I got to keep half the fee. I also worked in a brick factory where I was paid weekly. &nbsp; I married when I was 16, and my wife was a year younger. As my family and responsibilities grew, I had to migrate leaving behind my three children including Ruby who was just three months old.&nbsp; I went to Qatar where I continued working as a barber. It was a large saloon and the standards for cleanliness and professionalism were higher. I had to hand over 70% of my daily earnings to the employer. I had to rely on my colleague to translate what the customer wanted. But I slowly became fluent in Arabic. I used to jot down words in Nepali and Arabic and memorise them. In Qatar, customers even came at night for haircuts, and people stayed up late. I would work till 3AM.&nbsp; Communicating with my family was one-way. I would go to Bismillah and ask someone to type out questions to my family about their whereabouts, how the harvest was that season. I would offer very little information about my life in Qatar because it was not easy. What was the point of getting them all worried? What could they do? I never received a letter in return, so throughout my time in Qatar, I never knew how my family was faring. When I appeared in the village after five years without any advance notice, it was a bittersweet reunion, and I had no gifts. I still remember how unfamiliar my village felt when I came home after so many years. I had to ask for directions. When I came home, Ruby was already in school. I had left her in my wife’s arms five years prior. I missed her growing up, and did not even see her pictures. My wife had to introduce her to me as her father. But it took just 15 minutes for her to warm up to me.&nbsp; The Arabic skills I had picked up in Qatar came in handy when I remigrated two years later to Saudi Arabia. I worked as a labourer in the desert heat, but once my company found out I spoke Arabic, I was hired for an indoor job as an office boy. The struggle in Qatar had paid off. I worked in an air conditioned office serving tea or coffee, doing bank runs or getting documents signed and photocopied. I have worked in the same company for the past 20 years, sending money home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  My wife is not just my children’s guardian, but also mine throughout the two decades I was away. I trust her with all my earnings, and she manages our household finances well. She makes sure that the children’s school fees and other expenses are paid on time. These days, with video calls, things have become much easier for me to stay in touch with home.&nbsp; When Ruby told me she wanted to do an engineering diploma, I was happy. Later, her friends inspired her to join politics so she started getting involved with Shram Sanskriti Party. I first found out she got the proportional representation nomination through social media while on my work duty in Saudi Arabia. I was so excited, but even more so when she was elected Deputy Speaker. I was back home in Dhanusha on my vacation at the time.&nbsp; We are overjoyed and waiting for her to come back to the village for a visit when she gets a chance so we can celebrate properly with everyone. I plan to go back to Saudi Arabia as originally planned, I have a good job and will work for maybe five more years. Ruby has taken 75% of the load off my back. She can help take care of her siblings.&nbsp; I sleep at 8PM every day and wake up at 5AM to exercise before my day in Saudi Arabia begins – I have stuck to the same routine for the last two decades and it has worked well for me and my health. I have a good rapport with my boss who is an Egyptian. My requests to resign have often been met with counter-offers to stay on. My honesty and hard work have won me the company's trust. I will go back and resume working as I have, despite my daughter’s huge achievements. I am still a farmer’s son, a simple man who has to fulfil his family responsibilities. My colleagues in Saudi Arabia are aware that Ruby is Deputy Speaker in Nepal’s Parliament, they are all happy for me and have congratulated me. This time, when I go back, I have promised them that I will throw a bakhri party to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.

The nation’s daughter

This is the 90th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. The Musahar community lives in the Nepal Tarai and India, they have been historically excluded and are at the bottom of the economic and caste ladder. Many families still work as sharecroppers for landlords, but overseas migration is changing their lives as this conversation between Abhinash Sada and Lalit Majhi shows. Both were home for a vacation from work in Malaysia which coincided with the election. They are hopeful that the new RSP government will improve things.&nbsp; Abhinash: I was born into such poverty that we worried about the next meal. My family used to work near the river, mining sand and gravel. They were paid in rice. Sometimes we children went to the field to help with work, not for money but for the roti we got for lunch. I was eight when I was sent to school, and I still remember the first day. Lalit: We were classmates. Abhinash already knew how to recite the Nepali alphabet, but did not know how to read the letters. Meanwhile, I knew how to write s v u but did not know what those letters stood for. I just liked using a stick to scribble the alphabets in the sand while tending to the water buffalos. We finally learnt the alphabets properly in school. We used to skip school a lot but became interested after they offered sports like volleyball, and they also let us use a computer once every week. We started focusing on our studies, and Abinash used to stay at my my house so we could start studying together at 4AM because the teacher said our minds were freshest in the morning.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> </figure>  Abhinash: I used to sleep over at Lalit’s house so we could get up and study together early in the morning before school. We enjoyed studying so much we even asked the teacher for more homework. Sometimes, we used to skip class to do some work to earn some money so we could afford stationery or uniforms. Lalit ranked better than me in class.&nbsp; Lalit: My best memories of childhood was us swimming in the river after the rains when water levels were high. My mother thought we would get sick, but we did not listen. When we finally came home in the evenings, she would be fuming. My father worked in Punjab as a contractor and took fellow villagers there to work.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040432_0f8b3936c1edef4ff2e3682a66131278bf822022b1e8ae3aca1418e0fa232136.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260411040432_0f8b3936c1edef4ff2e3682a66131278bf822022b1e8ae3aca1418e0fa232136" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash with his family.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: My father went to Saudi Arabia to support the family. When he came home for a break, he enrolled me in a private school so my English would improve and private schools were also stricter. I was in Grade 5 in the government school, but the private school put me in kindergarten. It felt strange because everyone else was much younger. After three years, I rejoined Grade 6 in the government school but Lalit had already moved on to Grade 8. We no longer studied together. Lalit: I did not pass my SLC. Instead of retaking the exam, I went to Chennai and got a dishwashing job although I was promised waiter. I came back after a month and started getting my paperwork done for Qatar. I borrowed Rs100,000 from a villager at 36% interest. Even so, in three years there I helped my family repay loans and bail out my eldest brother who had been cheated in Malaysia. All my savings in Qatar and what my middle brother earned in Malaysia went to rescue our oldest brother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_716000dceca4fbf31b9364fa712e30cbdca83783d59c8e10b47f6ae3e39b8825.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260411040436_716000dceca4fbf31b9364fa712e30cbdca83783d59c8e10b47f6ae3e39b8825" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Lalit with his mother.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: We Musahars can work hard. Our forebears worked from childhood tilling the fields of land owners whose children went to school. Saying no was not an option. Our fathers’ generation prioritised education because they did not want us to be trapped in servitude. I studied until Grade 12 but failed my exam. I worked in a sweet factory in Bangalore to support my parents. I returned after a year, and did odd jobs in a brick factory and sometimes as a day labourer with my father. I did not go abroad because I did not have money and people were not willing to lend to us. It was only when I got a free recruitment job in Malaysia that I decided to migrate.&nbsp; Lalit: I came back from Qatar, got married and remigrated to Malaysia with Abinash. It has been 2.5 years and we work in the same factory and share a dorm room just as we did as kids. With the money we earned, we have bought land back in our village. We are returning to Malaysia after our vacation here. My wife put mehendi in my palms, and told me that I should remember her whenever I see it. I also gave her a silver chain I was wearing as memento. My wife said the mehendi will last about a month and will fade away, that is the most difficult part of being overseas — but after a few weeks the working life takes over and we get occupied with duty.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash's family seeing him off in 2023.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_5a4faef596e76365fce3181fe8f3a215306755287cbe353c433e34758df0aaec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260411040436_5a4faef596e76365fce3181fe8f3a215306755287cbe353c433e34758df0aaec" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash and Lalit getting welcomed by family after their return.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: The election coincided with my vacation and I voted for the RSP in both ballots. They have already started building a road in our area, so there is hope. People in other parties were angry, but I told them my one vote would not have made a difference, they would have still lost. You can feel new energy in the village now, maybe things will change. We Musahars have always been discriminated against, even though our situation has improved. At least we do not have to worry about food anymore. It is not just my father who is the breadwinner. Now, I am also earning to support the family.&nbsp; Lalit: The whole point about migrating is to take care of my parents and make sure they are happy. They are my role models, and struggled all their lives for us. They invested in our studies so we would not have to live through what they did. They are happy that we are earning and supporting them. We bought land with the money saved in Malaysia. Now, as we go back, the next goal is to build a house. Then we will think about our future. When Abhinash and I were children, we thought we would be ठुलो मान्छे one day. I looked up to my teacher and wanted to be like him. But now that I am grown up, I do not have anyone I look up to. I just make my goals and achieve them.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_83af55ced9108a0604495df2f808e497f6ecb73d1772c30af72cef94a4f21915.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260411040436_83af55ced9108a0604495df2f808e497f6ecb73d1772c30af72cef94a4f21915" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> </figure>  Abhinash: We have our whole lives ahead of us, and it is our turn to support our parents. What is the point of anything if our family is not happy? I do not want my parents to have to depend on others for money. We Musahars have been historically mistreated. We are known to be too trusting, and we do as we are told. We grew up believing that we were underdogs because of our caste. People still treat us as untouchable, although less than before. We were invited to parties but made to sit separately; at friends’ houses, we were asked to remain outside. We accepted all this because that is way it always was. Even when it made us feel bad. My younger brother stopped going to parties altogether because he did not like that discriminatory treatment. The new generation is not like that thankfully.&nbsp; Lalit: I once ran away from a feast because the Musahar invitees had to eat last. High caste or low caste, we all have the same red blood. The young ones thankfully are not like that. We were invited to a wedding recently during this vacation from Malaysia, and all of us young boys sat and ate together. But if the elders had been around they would have asked Abhinash and me to sit separately from the others.&nbsp;

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