<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d128a9c7e80680e0a98ddjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="1083"/><figcaption>The south face of Mt Gauri Shankar (7,134m) on the border between Nepal and China is bare rock, and shows how dramatically the snowline has receded, and the glaciers have shrunk. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>The COP26 climate jamboree ends in Glasgow on Friday, and already it looks like the best world governments are prepared to offer in terms of emission cuts is not enough to stave off an environmental catastrophe.There were a slew of national, international and multinational pledges for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/net-zero-is-not-zero/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">net zero</a>, but activists fear allegations that the targets are vague and over-ambitious greenwash that they have no intention of meeting.The result could be global average temperatures soaring to up to 3oCelsius above pre-industrial levels, with catastrophic results. The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-terrifying-assessment-of-himalayan-melting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Himalaya will warm even faster</a>, and scientists say it could lose up to two-thirds of its remaining ice during this century.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-greenwashing-in-glasgow/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's greewashing in Glasgow</a>, Rashmi Baskota<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d128d9c7e80680e0a98dejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="671"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12909c7e80680e0a98dfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="568"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On Tuesday in Glasgow, Nepal unveiled three <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/blueprint-for-a-net-zero-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">ambitious targets</a>, and without waiting for others to say it, boasted that it was the ‘highest climate ambition country’.In its three-point pledge, Nepal said it would:<ul><li>Start reducing emission from 2022 and be carbon negative after 2045</li> <li>Halt deforestation and increase forest cover to 45% by 2030</li> <li>Ensure all vulnerable people are protected from climate change by 2030</li></ul>In Kathmandu, environmental activist Bhushan Tuladhar welcomed the new targets, saying they were “ambitious but doable” but one which will require a serious review of our normal development pathway.“We can’t look at the commitments as just reduction of carbon emission, but as an investment for our economy and health. Now let’s walk the talk and get to work,” Tuladhar told Nepali Times.A good start would be for the government to order that all official vehicles purchased from now on will be <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/e-vehicles-prepare-for-post-lockdown-boom/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">battery powered</a>, and encourage public transport operators to electrify their bus fleets and by reducing taxes and setting up charging stations, he added.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12939c7e80680e0a98e0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12979c7e80680e0a98e1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1061"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d129a9c7e80680e0a98e2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">The pledges have been criticised as being too vague on protecting all ‘vulnerable people by 2030’ and annual reduction of emissions till net-zero by 2045 will hinge on implementation, on which Nepal has always been weak. The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-can-up-forest-cover-to-45-by-2030/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">forestry target</a>, however, is seen to be achievable.The targets are also conditional upon financial support, and Nepal will require $46 billion to implement them from 2022-2030, which is 24% of national GDP, and the government can fund only about 2% of this sum.Amrit Nakarmi, an adviser at the Energy Development Council who prepared the long-term strategy report, says that Nepal is unlikely to meet the targets without climate funds.“We contribute only 0.5% of total global carbon emissions and even within that  only 30% is anthropogenic, 20% is natural and the remaining 50% is transboundary, so us reducing <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-doubles-its-carbon-footprint/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">our carbon footprint</a> will not make much of a difference to the global climate,” explains Nakarmi.“But having said that we can replace our fossil fuel imports with clean hydroelectricity and cut our import bill,” he adds. “Electrification of the economy is urgent, and government policies should be in line with our targets and the private sector should be involved.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d129d9c7e80680e0a98e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1800" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Climate finance and payments for Nepal’s carbon sink from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/who-now-owns-nepals-forests/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">expanded forest cover</a> will take time to materialise. But experts say we should not wait for the money, and start with low-cost effective mitigation measures locally.Cooking via electricity has now become much cheaper than LPG, and many urban families have transitioned to induction stoves. But 90% of households across Nepal are hooked to only 5amp current which is only enough for lighting. If the transmission can be upgraded, Nepal could save at least Rs33 billion a year by replacing its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/look-whats-cooking-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">cooking gas imports</a> with electricity.Nepalis have paid nearly Rs10 billion in pollution tax for every litre of petrol or diesel at the gas stations in the last decade. This money could be used to buy  electric public buses. Increasing the petroleum excise tax could fund conversion to renewables.Nepal would also save Rs21 billion a year by reducing its petroleum import bill by just 10% if it <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/cleaner-air-with-greener-buses/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">converted public buses to battery-operated vehicles</a> while also increasing domestic consumption of clean electricity and improving air quality. If the transport sector is electrified, experts believe net-zero by 2045 is possible.Water scientist Madhukar Upadhya believes Nepal can also increase forest cover to 45% by 2030 (from the current 37%) by controlling forest degradation due to encroachment, deforestation and reducing wildfires.But Upadhyay is puzzled by the third target on protecting vulnerable people. “We just don’t have the infrastructure, knowledge or expertise to achieve climate resilience for vulnerable people by 2030,” he asserts.“Nepal experienced extreme weather this year,<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> droughts and floods destroyed crops</a>, lack of water is creating climate refugees, wildfires have become nationwide,” Upadhyay adds. “These are not just headlines anymore, we are experiencing them ourselves, what are we doing to address these challenges? Nepal has taken no action to reduce or control them.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016110/636d12a09c7e80680e0a98e4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="900"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Other areas that can be cleaned up with existing technologies and local resources include industries, agriculture and waste management. The cement industry is booming in Nepal, and they are big carbon emitters. By switching to electricity, Nepal could mitigate emissions. Rice farming generates methane, which is a greenhouse gas, so converting to the System of Rice Intensification (SRI) could reduce our contribution to climate change.Kathmandu’s only <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-load-of-rubbish/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">landfill in Sisdole</a> has reached maximum capacity and an alternative site has been in talks for decades. Landfills add to methane emissions, but there has been no commitment to composting and biogas using biodegradable urban waste.After overdosing on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">climate news</a> for two weeks just to be side-lined until the next COP, we might want to recall another one of our targets, the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) by 2030. Half of the 17 goals in SDGs will be directly affected by the impact of climate change, and yet these initiatives are working in isolation when in fact they should coordinate and collaborate for the same goal: sustainable and just future.Says environmentalist Tuladhar: “There are two things to do right after Glasgow: explain the nitty-gritty of the commitments we made and immediately implement short-, mid- and long-term strategies to achieve them. Start with the low hanging fruit, what we can immediately do, and there are plenty of them.”

Sonia Awale

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COPOUT at COP26

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57589c7e80680e0547d9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="834"/><figcaption>ARCTIC HIMALAYA: NASA satellite images of Imja Galcier near Mt Everest taken in 1962, 1975, 1983, 1989, 1992, 2000, 2006 and (above) in 2010.</figcaption></figure>Climate scientists are shocked at the melt rate of Arctic sea ice and the Greenland ice-cap this summer, but the alarm bells are ringing even louder in the Himalaya.The 4,000km Himalayan arc is dubbed ‘The Third Pole’ because it has the biggest ice mass after the earth’s north and south polar regions. After this year’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/turning-on-the-heat/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">record heat</a>, scientists say they may have to revise upwards predictions about how fast it is melting.Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32805&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Climate-health emergency,</a> Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32892&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tree-mendous,</a> Peter Gill“Nearly a third of Nepal’s area is above 5,000m and is technically the Arctic,” says economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “And it is reasonable to assume that what is happening in the Arctic is happening in our Himalayan Arctic.”<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/on-thin-ice-in-the-khumbu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Himalayan ice cover</a> is melting even faster than the poles because the mountains are situated astride the tropics. Gyawali warns it is not just about receding glaciers, but uncertainty about how climate change will <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2016/06/05/climactic-change-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">affect precipitation. </a>Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32877&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's a jungle out there,</a> Ajaya Dixit<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32887&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Trees, politics and greed</a>, Mukesh Pokharel<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a575a9c7e80680e0547dajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="200">In a report earlier this year titled Hindu Kush Himalaya Assessment: Climate Change, Sustainability and People, the Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (<a href="http://www.icimod.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ICIMOD</a>) predicted the Himalaya would lose <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-terrifying-assessment-of-himalayan-melting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">more than one-third of its ice</a> by the end of the century, even if global average temperatures are capped at a 1.5oC increase above pre-industrial levels by 2050.But after this northern hemisphere summer, scientists warned the poles are already seeing levels of melting that was supposed to happen 30 years from now. If <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/climate-for-change/the-great-himalayan-thaw/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">current emission trends </a>continue and forests are cut at the present rate, the world could be hotter by up to 6.5oC by 2100 — melting two-thirds of Himalayan glaciers.Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32836&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mustn't blame everything on Climate Change,</a> Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32872&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Protecting Kathmandu’s historic roofscape,</a> Anne FeenstraIn July, scientists from 60 countries met in Kathmandu to start working on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/weather-warning-for-climate-meeting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Inter-governmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC)</a> 6th Assessment Report, due in 2022. Many of them admitted they may have to revise previous predictions because warming was happening faster than estimated.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTnxJKo97DI&amp;t=67sHimalayan peaks <a href="https://insideclimatenews.org/news/26112018/mount-everest-photos-world-highest-glacier-climate-change-khombu-icefall-climbing-route" target="_blank" rel="noopener">are already warming</a> up to 0.7oC faster than the global average because of a phenomenon called ‘elevation amplification’. Many of these projections will form part of an IPCC Special Report on the Ocean and Cryosphere, to be released on 23 September at the Climate Action Summit in New York during the UN General Assembly.Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32849&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tourism, aviation, and carbon,</a> Sanghamitra Subba<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32856&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Climate Summit leads packed UN agenda,</a> Thalif DeenTo be sure, there are mountain regions nearer the equator with smaller ice mass that are melting even faster than the Himalaya. Andean glaciers in Bolivia have shrunk by half in the past 50 years, and Kilimanjaro has lost nearly all the ice on its summit in the past 100 years.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/ice-to-water-glacier-lake-outburts-himalayas-nepal,4197" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The loss of Himalayan ice </a>will have even more devastating consequences because there are about 1.3 billion people living downstream who depend on its rivers. Glaciers in the central and eastern Himalaya are already receding up to 30m per year.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a575b9c7e80680e0547dbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1100" height="894"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32868&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mosquitoes move up mountains as the earth warms,</a> Sonia AwaleClimate models show that spring flow in the Indus, Ganges and Brahmaputra rivers and their glacier-fed tributaries will rise till 2050 as the earth warms, but will start decreasing after that because there will be no more ice left to melt.Already, 60% of the water withdrawn for irrigation in the Indo-Gangetic Basin originates from snow and glacier melt — and the dry season flow of most Himalayan rivers is almost entirely snow-fed.“The mountains are the pulse of the planet, and that pulse is telling us that we are in a climate crisis,” warned <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/interview-with-david-molden-icimod,3074" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ICIMOD Director General David Molden</a> at a Cryosphere and Society Forum on 28-29 August in Kathmandu. “The impact of climate change is felt hard in mountains, with temperatures rising faster than the plains, resulting in changing  ecosystem and agricultural patterns, changing rainfall and river flows.”For the first time, the forum this year brought together scientists and local communities from across the Himalaya so as to bridge the knowledge gap between researchers and local people. The idea was to see how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/climate-damage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">climate change</a> affects water supply, energy and food security for people in the Himalaya, and to offer solutions.“The impact on farming, tourism and hydropower is already being felt, the question is: what are we going to do about it?” said ICIMOD climate expert Arun Bhakta Shrestha.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a575e9c7e80680e0547dcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1100" height="825"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">yak cheese</a> factory in Nepal’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Langtang Valley</a> has been in continuous operation for the past 55 years, but is facing an existential crisis because the glaciers that used to feed springs have dried up, and the weather has become erratic.“The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/langtang-destroyed-in-earthquake,2205" target="_blank" rel="noopener">avalanche in 2015</a> was a sudden disaster that hit with no  warning,” said cheesemaker Gyalpu Tamang, who lost relatives and friends, also herds of yaks. “But this climate crisis is a slow-moving disaster, and just as serious.”Attending the forum were farmers from Mustang. One of them, Narendra Lama, said villagers who depend on glacial melt to power water mills, irrigation, hydro-electricity and drinking water are already seeing the impact.Lama said: “Some of us have been forced to leave our villages because of the shortage of water.Springs have gone dry. We need scientists to tell us what to do.”This story is part of Covering Climate Now, a global collaboration of more than 220 news outlets to strengthen coverage of the climate story.

Kunda Dixit

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The Third Pole is warming faster than expected

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57049c7e80680e0547b9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"/><figcaption>The Druk Air fleet at home in Paro airport</figcaption></figure>Our flight arrived 45 minutes early. "Only in Bhutan, never in Nepal," grinned a retired army general shouldering his golf clubs and duty free at Kathmandu airport, heading for a weekend on the golf course.On landing in the unique traditional Paro airport, the mountain air fizzed and buzzed with excited tourists snapping selfies and Bhutanese rejoicing on return. Having admired the white Himalayan giants from afar, passengers shared palpable relief at the safe descent with farmhouses, fields and rocky crags flashing by just beyond our wingtips.The Druk Air dragons coil confidently on the orange yellow aircraft tails, and helpful women in colourful kira stamp us into the country from behind fragrant wood desks. Outside, men dressed in gho and knee socks take trouble to assist those caught out by the early arrival to link up with their drivers. Ah yes, the familiar magic of Bhutan is already weaving its spell.I have been here many times, but am still hopelessly susceptible to the enchantment. When Bhutan first opened to tourism in 1974 it was not long before I had a chance to visit with our client, Lindblad Travel. The Swedish visionary entrepreneur, Lars-Eric Lindblad, represented Bhutan from a corner of his New York office draped in prayer flags and woven cloth, and first advised His then-Majesty on the ‘high value, low volume’ model of tourism.Although I only got to Paro and Thimphu on that first visit, from the tortuous roads we spotted otters playing on the riverbanks, and I was captivated by the royal pageantry, ubiquitous archery, claret-clad monks and intense potency of the fortress dzong.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/adventurers-in-a-vanishing-land/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Adventures in a vanishing land</a>, Lisa Choegyal<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57079c7e80680e0547bajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1632" height="1224"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I have helped with tourism, movies and events in Bhutan on a number of occasions. In 1992, Bernardo Bertolucci strutted the stone flagged courtyards of the massive Paro Dzong, directing with flair and flailing arms the feature film Little Buddha, more ambitious and elaborate than ever again attempted in that holy precinct.Special permissions were needed from the royal government for such an unusual invasion, and my quest graduated from officials in the rows of humble wooden sheds that housed the civil service, to the carpeted offices and corner stairways in the main seat of government in Thimphu, the Tashichho Dzong 'fortress of the glorious religion'.Ravens called and pigeons circled as we negotiated the guards and stepped through the huge doorways into the grey stone precincts, our Bhutanese escorts adjusting their raw silk sashes of formal respect. Sloping walls glowered above us to the painted eaves and massive roofs, and the quarters of the ruling monarch were indicated to us with due deference through the next courtyard. When the rare permission was granted, with typical charm the Foreign Minister hosted us to a celebratory dinner, sitting on carpeted benches and eating red rice, cheese and chillies off small carved tables.A decade later we were back to prepare a national ecotourism strategy, consulting for the tourism authority under the unforgiving eye and dishevelled goh of veteran Thuji Nadik, never one to suffer fools. With our WWF clients we trekked into the back blocks of Bumthang, through flowering rhododendron forests, remote palace strongholds and rural villages, staying in richly decorated houses with sparse impoverished interiors.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/infectious-enthusiasm-for-travel/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Infectious enthusiasm for travel</a>, Lisa Choegyal<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a570b9c7e80680e0547bbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>We happened to be in Thimphu on 9/11, watching the New York drama unfold on a flickering screen in our favourite Yeedzin Guesthouse. The King called every American in the country to personally condole them and the monk body dedicated days of prayers to those lost in the Twin Towers. By a twist of fate, I stayed in that same guesthouse room last month, little changed since 2001, with familiar erratic service, creaking wood floors and wobbly taps, but now dwarfed by international brand hotels -- a six-lane bypass runs alongside Thimphu’s old archery ground.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/recreating-tiger-tops-in-the-tropics/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Recreating Tiger Tops in the tropics</a>, Lisa Choegyal<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a570c9c7e80680e0547bcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>For Thuji and his team we returned several times with the ADB, working on Buddhist circuits and ecotourism. Driving to Mongar and Trashigang in the far east with our Nepali aviation colleagues, we inspected existing and proposed airports, trekking up hilltops to assess feasibility and enjoy the flowers, forest and mountain scenery.Near Trongsa we were rewarded with golden langurs leisurely crossing the road and, in the marshy valley of Phobjica, the sacred black-necked cranes honoured us with their elegant disdain. Communications in those days were so difficult that the Civil Aviation director in Paro was surprised when we reported that Yonphula airstrip, close to the Arunachal Pradesh border, had been recently resurfaced.During a job with the Norwegians, checking out tourism and environmental implications of a proposed hydropower master plan, we indulged in fly-fishing for trout in the pristine rivers. Strictly catch and release, the rules permit fishing only when out of eye-sight of any religious monument, dzong, chorten or stupa. One of Bhutan’s less likely exports is hand-tied flies for the world’s recreational fly-fishers.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a570f9c7e80680e0547bdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bhutan is the first country in the world to become carbon negative: its forests absorb more carbon than its inhabitants burn. But although much admired as an astute national policy, Bhutan’s uniquely-managed, pre-paid tourism with its tiny population of some 800,000 people and gross national happiness brand is hard, probably impossible, to replicate elsewhere. Amongst our recommendations was to evolve the tourism strategy to ‘high value, low impact’, using financial mechanisms to control visitors at sustainable levels, nurturing the cultural ‘Bhutan style’ for visitors. And to find ways that more tourism benefits can stick in the countryside, something at which Nepal has been far more successful.Bhutan these days is on the move. Lofty electricity pylons march across the country, competing with the hosts of fluttering prayer flags that clamber up the steep ridges above the valley floors. Construction sites have come to characterise the creeping city perimeters of Paro and Thimphu as Bhutanese crowd in from the countryside, and pressure from Indian tourists threatens Bhutan’s grip on its carefully crafted tourism objectives.New hotels and apartment blocks faithfully reflect the carved and painted vernacular architecture of this last Himalayan eyrie, but new roads scar the hillsides and laden trucks grind their way up from India. The swarm of smart imported SUVs have to watch out for horses and mules grazing unfettered along the roadside, avoid the dogs supine in the sunshine, and steer around cows sleeping on the warm tarmac.But some things never change in this blessed kingdom. They still proudly wear their glamorous national garb, blithely manage their dependence on India,<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> ignore the thorny issue of refugees</a>, and zealously guard their traditions, navigating the cultural clash of ancient and modern. The Bhutanese must be the only nation on earth who so genuinely and universally adore and revere their royal family. Inspirational they are too, and I for one am happy to be bewitched by Bhutan.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/the-kathmandu-crowd/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Kathmandu Crowd</a>, Lisa Choegyal

Lisa Choegyal

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Bhutan is on the move

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36999c7e80680e048319jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Tornado in Bara. Photo: RSS</figcaption></figure>This is the season for windstorms, and even though the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/groound-zero-in-pheta/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">whirlwind</a> that hit the central Tarai on 31 March killing 28 people was a freak event, it was not the first to touch down in our part of the world.Novelist Amitabh Ghosh begins his 2016 non-fiction book, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/book-reviews-new-year-2074,3654" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Great Derangement: Climate Change and the Unthinkable</a>, with his personal encounter with a funnel-shaped tornado that struck New Delhi on 17 March 1978. It killed 70 and injured 700 in just 2 minutes.Ghosh writes that the Indian Meterological Service said at the time: ‘This was, in effect, the first tornado to hit Delhi—and indeed the entire region—in recorded meteorological history.’Birganj-based journalist Chandra Kishore remembers a similar devastating vortex that destroyed parts of his Tarai village in the mid-1980s. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/toll-expected-to-double-to-50-in-tornado/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">In Pheta</a> on the night of 31 March, most of the deaths were due to poorly built structures, not the actual tornado, proving once again that it is shoddily-built houses that kill people not natural events.When Ghosh encountered the tornado in 1978 in New Delhi, the Earth’s atmosphere had 334ppm (parts per million) of carbon dioxide. In the 19th century, before the industrial age, it was 280ppm. By 2019, the CO2 concentration in the atmosphere has increased to 411ppm, most of it because of fossil fuel emissions.With so much carbon in the atmosphere, climate change is no longer something that will happen in a distant future — <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-terrifying-assessment-of-himalayan-melting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">it is happening now</a>. Events like the Tarai tornado are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-normal-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">our new normal</a> and highlight the growing impacts of an erratic climate and its rising social and economic cost. No country is immune, all countries have to adapt and also cut their emissions by switching to renewable energy.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25490&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's electric transport future is here</a>, Sonia AwaleNepal’s Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM) collects wind speed data at the airport to assist flight operations, for academic assessment of wind energy potentials and for designing buildings and infrastructure. Wind hazards have always been there, but death and destruction of the scale that Pheta witnessed has not been part of our understanding.As an under-budgeted and under-staffed entity, the DHM has the lowest priority from the Nepali state, preventing it from becoming a repository of climate knowledge. As one of the countries most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, Nepal needs to upgrade its weather forecasting and early warning.The Pheta tragedy revealed a major gap in the DHM’s ability to ‘nowcast’ weather, the process of warning people about what is likely to happen in the next few hours at a spatial resolution of a few square kilometres. The department needs to be able to provide local, short-term forecasting, perhaps by collaborating with others like Tribhuvan University’s Physics Department.The twister also exposed gaps in our <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/disastrous-management-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">disaster management institutions</a>. Nepal’s 2017 Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Act has replaced the 1982 Natural Calamity Relief Act, so there are now 15 legal tools and guidelines covering the entire disaster cycle. However, these have not been contextualised for our local situation, where the understanding of national policies and laws is still limited.The Ministry of Home Affairs held a meeting of the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Committee on 5 April, chaired by the Home Affairs Minister himself. It issued a 13-point decision to expedite relief and increase preparedness for the coming monsoon season.Province 2 has also taken a number of decisions including one to build prefabricated houses for the Pheta victims within four months. The government in Kathmandu, however, decided to assign the Nepal Army to rebuild the damaged houses. The army played a commendable role in rescue and relief efforts during the 2015 earthquake and in other disasters, but it is worth asking why it needs to be involved in reconstruction of private homes.The Nepal Army is there to defend our borders and be the first responder in a disaster; building houses is not its job. Reconstruction requires working iteratively with local governments to support victims in self-recovery and building back safer without reproducing past vulnerabilities. The National Reconstruction Authority (NRA) already has a track record of helping earthquake-affected families build houses, and it could have easily been assigned that responsibility in Pheta.Such complex institutional dynamics often create more constraints than solutions, at a time when there are new challenges due to climate change-induced disasters. Nepal’s national, provincial and local governments, and society by and large, do not have the necessary wherewithal to adapt and are the least prepared. The poor are the most vulnerable, and as Pheta proved, are likely going to pay the highest price.Ajaya Dixit is Executive Director of Kathmandu based ISET-Nepal. His monthly column Climate for Change deals with the impact of global warming in Nepal.

Life in the time of tornadoes

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The debate about who is less accountable to the public: politicians or bureaucrats is as old as Nepal’s democracy itself.
Some blame politicians for being beholden to the businessmen who finance their electoral campaigns, and are forced to return the favour with contracts and kickbacks when in power.&nbsp;
Others say it is civil servants who are neither civil nor servants, and know the inner workings of the system to exploit loopholes – they then teach ministers, MPs, mayors, or ward chairs which juicy projects can be squeezed. And everyone gets their share.
In reality, it is probably not a case of either, or. Both have their hands deep in the honey pot. Corruption is now such a given that yet another exposé in the mainstream press, like the latest visit-visa scam, does not raise eyebrows anymore.
We may have to edit Lord Acton’s famous quote to say that in Nepal we do not even need absolute power to corrupt absolutely. The ruling cartel has divvied up the spoils, so that no one ever faces charges. The three parties all know about the skeletons rattling in each other’s closets, and they cancel each other out.
Politicians and bureaucrats get all the blame for taking bribes, but what of the givers of bribes? In this crony capitalism, businesses invariably need political patrons in an elaborate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">national network of give-and-take</a>.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">Politicians and businesses work hand-in-glove</a> so that conflict of interest in contracts, insider trading, cartelling, and non-performing assets of banks become the norm. Our survey after the 2017 local election showed that out of the 753 newly-elected local government chairs, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elected-contractors" target="_blank">nearly 300 were contractors</a> involved in sand-mining, quarrying, or transportation syndicates.
Nepal’s tycoons have discovered that instead of donating to election war chests of politicians, it is a much surer return on investment to spend the money to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-business-of-politics-in-nepal" target="_blank">become legislators and politicians themselves</a>.
In democracies, there are checks and balances to control corruption when it becomes endemic. The Nepal Police and Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) are supposed to do the detective work without political interference. The courts are required to be independent in dispensing justice and punishing crooks.
But the less said about the judiciary the better. A writ petition in the Supreme Court last week accused our sister magazine <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> of contempt of court for two stories: one about how high courts have been overturning a majority of verdicts of district courts in cases of rape, and another about the Biratnagar High Court clearing a self-proclaimed holy man, Krishna Bahadur Giri, of rape despite police presenting physical evidence.
The doctrine of the separation of powers stipulates that it is when the other three pillars in a democracy are compromised that the role of the free press becomes even more vital. The world over, as soon as populist autocrats are elected to the executive, their first order of business is to co-opt the legislature and the judiciary. Then they buy off, intimidate, or neutralise the media with Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPP).
Nepal’s officialdom seems to be taking midnight Zoom lessons from other despots on how to gag the media. Last month, popular talk show host Dil Bhushan Pathak was served an arrest warrant by the Kathmandu District Court for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CntsnTrtG8" target="_blank">a YouTube explainer</a> about the alleged involvement of the son of Foreign Minister Arzu Deuba Rana in a reported purchase of Kathmandu’s Hilton Hotel.
The Lalitpur District Court ruled that Pathak could not be arrested without fair trial, but this week the Kathmandu District Court filed another case against the journalist based on a complaint by the Cyber Bureau, and put him on a fugitive list.&nbsp;
Without going into the veracity of Pathak’s explainer, it is deeply problematic that the Electronic Transaction Act has been invoked – proof that politicians are getting the courts and investigating agencies to make an example of a high profile journalist.&nbsp;
The intention is to silence media investigations into the fake refugee scandal in which the main partner in the ruling coalition is implicated, and in which one of its former home ministers was jailed last year.
The Kathmandu High Court has been mysteriously active in targeting journalists these days. <a href="https://bizmandu.com/" target="_blank">Bizmandu</a> and <a href="https://nepalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">Nepalkhabar</a> were served a notice last month <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-freedom-after-expression-y4inku06" target="_blank">to withdraw a story they did</a> on the Chair of the <a href="https://www.sebon.gov.np/" target="_blank">Security and Exchange Board of Nepal (SEBON</a>) Santosh Narayan Shrestha allegedly demanding kickbacks from hydropower investors.&nbsp;
Incredibly, the court even asked the two portals not to report on the subject anymore – a ruling so absurd that the Patan High Court overturned it a week later.&nbsp;
The allegations against Shrestha were made in a public meeting of the <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Independent Power Producers Association of Nepal (IPPAN)</a>, and MPs demanded a <a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/parliament-demands-probe-into-sebon-chairman-over-alleged-commission-demand-40-32.html" target="_blank">Parliament inquiry</a> into the regulator. <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/144523/santosh-narayan-shrestha" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> reported this week that while Shrestha was reportedly demanding commissions from private investors for IPOs, he cleared primary share sales in Bajhang’s 10.75MW <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Bungal Hydro</a> in which his family members have investments, company records show.
And then just on Monday, bureaucrats hoodwinked MPs by deleting references in a bill requiring a two-year ‘cooling off’ period under which retiring civil servants could be barred from holding constitutional positions for two years.
The contest for who is more corrupt: bureauacrats, politicians, or the private sector is on.
Kunda Dixit

SLAPPing Democracy

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

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