<figure><img width="800" height="533" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209649c7e80680e0b553cjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Nagma Mali holding a picture of her father Nandagopal Mali. Photo: BIKKIL STHAPIT/ VOICES OF WOMEN MEDIA</figcaption></figure>On 22 June 2004, Nandagopal Mali left home in Thecho, Lalitpur as usual for his workshop where he was casting a bronze statue for a customer. He hasn’t been seen since.His daughter Nagma, who was eight at the time, kept waiting for her dad. Seventeen years later, she is still waiting.Having already lost her mother three years previously, while giving birth to her younger sister, Nagma could never accept that her father was gone and with no official proof of his demise, held on to the hope that he would come back one day.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/351/Nation/13585#.Ygs50u5Bz0s">Disappeared, dead or alive</a>, Anagha NeelakantanSoon after Nandagopal went missing, Nagma’s grandfather Sanu Mali took charge of searching for his son but he passed away soon after.It was then Nagma’s grandmother who stepped up, relentlessly questioning Royal Nepal Army officials and holding protests every day in Maitighar.One day, after returning from daily protests, Nagma’s grandmother told her about two children who were also searching for their missing parents.Nagma was a quiet girl whose first instinct was to hide when someone visited her home, but she decided to join her grandmother on the streets. <figure><img width="585" height="444" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209679c7e80680e0b553djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“It was my grandmother who made me the strong, independent person that I am today, fighting for justice,” says Nagma. “She also involved me in all important decision making, installing self-confidence in me.”She followed her grandmother to the Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons and participated in every program advocating justice for crimes committed during the Maoist conflict. She met others like her with missing parents, but had not given up the search.By then Nagma had completed her secondary education and was trying to decide on her career. One day, Nagma’s grandmother was stopped at the Chauni army barrack and was not allowed in.This was when Nagma realised that you either had to be someone with influence or a journalist to gain access to important places and people.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16267#.Ygs5zu5Bz0s">Vanishing Hope</a>, Ram Kumar BhandariNagma enrolled at Ratna Rajya Campus for a degree in journalism. But before long her only remaining support, her grandmother, died leaving her in charge of raising younger sister Swastika. But Nagma persisted and kept looking for her father on her own.She tried to visit top-ranking officials, joined the ‘Martyrs and Disappeared Warrior Children’ foundation and submitted a memorandum to the government to reveal the whereabouts of her missing father. But as her questions went unanswered and the state failed to investigate the case, her faith in the Disparaged Persons Committee started to erode. <figure><img width="1050" height="735" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209699c7e80680e0b553ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>She then turned to the Central Bureau of Investigation and studied for the Civil Service Commission exam with the hopes of joining the police force and finding her father herself. But as the sole earner of the family paying for both her and Swastika’s studies, she wasn’t able to keep up and did not sit for the paper.“Over the years I have often questioned myself if he was still alive. More than 15 years have passed, it has been a painful wait,” says Nagma, who strengthened her resolve once again and demanded that the government disclose information on the disappeared persons regardless of their state.After the peace talks in 2006, the Maoists became part of the government. The country went from the war to peace but the families of the disappeared continued to wait. None of the agencies set up to investigate war crimes are working on the whereabouts of nearly 1,500 still missing. <figure><img width="1050" height="662" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/6372096c9c7e80680e0b553fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“If we don’t fight, the disappeared will also be forgotten,” adds Nagma, who is now with the organisation Voices of Women Media and is also affiliated with the Conflict Victim Women National Network. “The truth is missing just like those who were made to disappear.” What worries Nagma most is the fate of children affected by the disappearances during the conflict and says the Maoist-led government has treated them unfairly. Children of those declared martyrs get free of cost education up to any level but for the children of the disappeared, it stops at 18 years of age. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17395#.Ygs53e5Bz0s">The disappeared and disquiet of those left behind</a>, Robert Godden “Pushpa Kamal Dahal looked after only his people after his purpose was served. What about us, the children of the disappeared? When will the consequences of your action be addressed?” Nagma questions the top Maoist leadership. How long should one wait for the disappeared person to come back? A month? A year? A decade? For Nagma, the answer is as long as she lives. She says: “As long as there is a hope of my father’s return, my search will continue. I won’t ever give up.” Adapted from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/128303?fbclid=IwAR3c3furHehsMy3HMd7Yv8VVJ9Iuq_rCUTCYEW_0xNErEsmBc_e9Lb0DLv0">Nepali original</a> in <a href="http://himalkhabar.com/">himalkhabar.com</a>Read more:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/disappearance-of-justice/">Disappearance of Justice</a>, Sabrina Dangol<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-scars-of-war/">The scars of War</a>, Sahina Shrestha

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Still looking for Dad missing in Nepal

<h2>14 years and 11 prime ministers later</h2> Text and photographs by Bikkil SthapitMany of the over 1,300 people still listed as missing after the Maoist war in Nepal left behind material objects. These are the only memories that remain, connecting the families to the loved ones who were disappeared. These memorabilia from the decade-long war are the only substantial things that the family members have protected – 14 years after the conflict ended. They occupy a special place in the family homes and work places, preserving their presence. The objects also keep faint hopes alive that by some miracle, the family member will suddenly reappear one day. More than 17,000 Nepalis were killed during the insurgency, there were brutal human rights violations and war crimes, including summary executions, disappearances, torture, rape, solitary confinement. Since the end of the conflict in 2006, limited support has been provided to survivors and their families of the disappeared. However, there are no answers to questions like whether they are alive or dead, who killed them, why, where, when? The Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA) was signed on 21 November 2006 between the government of Nepal and the Maoist party. It brought ‘peace’ to a country weary of war, and propelled the former guerrillas to power. However, 14 years and 11 prime ministers later, there have been no efforts to trace the missing, and tell families the truth, or give them justice. Two commissions were formed to investigate gross human rights violations and charge perpetrators, but neither have done much. The discourse around transitional justice in Nepal has approached memory, truth and justice in legalistic terms so that the experience of acute loss of families is often lost. Missing are the personal accounts of survivors and families of victims. <figure><img width="1500" height="1019" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7fd9c7e80680e0737b7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure><img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8009c7e80680e0737b8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1401" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8039c7e80680e0737b9jpeg.jpg" alt="">When my brother, Ajaya Shahi, earned his first salary he bought this shirt. He was  disappeared by the Army on 19 July, 2004. I have safely kept my brothers’ shirt in a separate box.Bijaya ShahiKirtipur <img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8069c7e80680e0737bajpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="640" height="897" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8099c7e80680e0737bbjpeg.jpg" alt="">My father used to make bronze Buddhas. Why is the army still not telling us what happened to him? Will this bring the peace to the country?Nagma MaliDaughter of Nanda Gopal MaliThecho, Lalitpur <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba80c9c7e80680e0737bcjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba80f9c7e80680e0737bdjpeg.jpg" alt="">My husband used to carry this sickle all the time in the rice field. It has been lying here ever since he was disappeared, and it is rusted. I have been keeping it safely as his last memento.Ramkali Devi TharuWife of Guru Prasad KathariyaRajapur, Bardia <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8139c7e80680e0737bejpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8169c7e80680e0737bfjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8199c7e80680e0737c0jpeg.jpg" alt="">My son used to recite from this Bible at church where we went together. I have kept this Bible thinking he will return some day. When that happens I will hand it over to him.Ratna Kumari MaliMother of Baburaja MaliGodavari, Lalitpur. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba81c9c7e80680e0737c1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>My son used the this plough whenever we went to the fields together. Today, we only have the plough. I cannot use it, and my son cannot use it.Surjan TharuBardia <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba81f9c7e80680e0737c2jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8229c7e80680e0737c3jpeg.jpg" alt="">He started to work for a pharmacy to manage the household expenses after his father died. This wall clock is the first thing he bought from his salary.I keep looking at it to pass the time till my son returns home. Mohan Maya MaliMother of Rajendra MaliGodavari, Lalitpur.During his 14-month-long jail time, my brother used to send us letters by hiding them inside biscuits and noodle packets. That's how we received this letter too. Butter Cracker and Wai Wai noodles still remind me of him. Even today, whenever I see biscuit and noodles, I anxiously think there might be a letter in it from him.He was in touch with our family until 22 November, 2003. The last letter that we received was written from Sundhara Central Jail.Sapana SuwarnakarSister of the disappeared Ashok AkelaBorlang-5, Gorkha <img width="1131" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8269c7e80680e0737c4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8299c7e80680e0737c5jpeg.jpg" alt="">I was taken to Bhairabnath Batallion on 12 December, 2004. I was wearing this sweater when the army freed me and dropped me off at Banasthali Chok on February 17, 2005. Swatantra Chaulagain of Bhote Chaur, Sindhupalchok, had given me this sweater while we were in the army camp together. “Please register my name at Amnesty. Don’t quit the party if you return safely,” he had told me.Swatantra Chaulagain is still missing.Ujjwal Acharya (name changed)KavreBikkil Sthapit is a rights activist and a photographer who has been documenting the issue of enforced disappearances in Nepal. He also runs the oral history initiative SunaMeroKatha.com These profiles were prepared during the Memory, Truth &amp; Justice project of VOW Media.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <h2>“We went everywhere, but we got no answers” </h2> Text and photographs by Sabrina Dangol <figure><img width="1500" height="1002" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba82c9c7e80680e0737c6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The doorway to Ram Maya’s rented room.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1500" height="1002" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba82f9c7e80680e0737c7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Ram Maya Nakarmi’s husband Padma Narayan's picture on the wall.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1500" height="1001" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8339c7e80680e0737c8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>A collection of old pictures of Ram Maya’s husband and relatives.</figcaption></figure>Ram Maya Nakarmi, 44, is packing up all her belongings as she prepares to move her residence again. She has been renting a one-bedroom flat with her only daughter, Lumana Nakarmi.It will be the fourth time she moves homes in the last five years, after the 2015 earthquake destroyed her old house, the same one where her husband, Padam Narayan Nakarmi, was forcefully taken away in 2003.Padam Narayan used to work as an ironmonger in a small grill shop in Bungmati. They had been married for five years, and Ram Maya knew that he had been in touch with the Maoist party off and on."Deep down I knew it was coming," she says, remembering that eight of his friends had got arrested a few days earlier.When they came for him, it all happened so fast that she only remembers pleading with the security personnel to let her accompany him to the police station. They refused, but assured her he would return the next day. It has been 17 years, and she never saw her husband again."When they came for Padam, they climbed into our room through a ladder. They didn't even knock or give us a time to decide anything,” Ram Maya recalls. “If I had known back then, I would have locked all the doors and windows shut."<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8379c7e80680e0737c9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="999">Ram Maya retrieving her husband’s picture from her purse.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba83a9c7e80680e0737cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1482" height="988">Ram Maya’s reflection caught in the mirror. <figure><img width="640" height="928" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba83e9c7e80680e0737cbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Portrait of Ram Maya Nakarmi in her rented home in Bungamati.</figcaption></figure>In the months following her husband’s arrest, Ram Maya went to police stations almost every day, walking up to 10km into town and back. Buses were scarce and the fare was expensive. Some of his friends were freed and told her that they had all been together in Bhairabnath Battalion base in Maharajganj for months.Later, Padam Narayan had been separated and taken somewhere else. So, Ram Maya visited Bhairabnath and the army base in Lagankhel regularly for two years.Her daughter Lumana, who was four years old, kept asking for her father. So she took her small child with her to Maharajganj and pleaded with the authorities to at least let her daughter see her father, but they did not allow her.Ram Maya was told to go to the Royal Nepal Army headquarters, and she kept going there, but no one wanted to tell her anything."I am not literate. I don't have people skills, nor can I present an argument properly. My brother-in-law helped me and accompanied me everywhere, but it was of no use. We got no answers," she recalls. <figure><img width="1500" height="999" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8419c7e80680e0737ccjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Ram Maya’s daughter Lumana Nakarmi working in her laptop.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1500" height="1002" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8439c7e80680e0737cdjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Ram Maya Nakarmi looking out of the window from her rented room in Bungamati.</figcaption></figure>Ram Maya's in-laws supported her for the first two years of her search, but they also lost hope. Her daughter also stopped asking about her father, and stopped even mentioning him.She got a factory job in Bungamati and focused on raising her daughter, who is now 20, studying and working at the same time. Neither mother nor daughter likes to remember those dark days any more. Ram Maya says, "We somehow survived amidst all the chaos and grief, but it feels like a part of both of our lives have been lost. I say that I have given up, but deep down I still hope for his return.”More on series of features for the International Day of Disappeared:<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-empty-chairs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The empty chairs</a>, Guligo Jia<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/disappearance-of-justice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Disapperance of justice</a>, Sabrina Dangol

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Only memories remain

Prime Minister Oli’s fence-mending trip to India is not getting into the touchy subject of Gorkha recruitment<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710110/6368c9bd9c7e80680e02f2ccjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="853"/><figcaption>Bhanu Bhattarai</figcaption></figure>Five years ago, a young man showed his identity card and was allowed to enter the Indian Embassy in Kathmandu. In the office of the Defence Attache, he put a neat envelope on the table. The contents made the officer nearly jump off his chair.I was that nervous young man, and I had done what seemed to be the most normal thing a citizen of Nepal could do. I was serving as a Major in the Indian Army, and had decided to resign my commission because I felt it was principally wrong to<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Nepalis-waited-200-years-for-country-to-be-proud-of,2939"> serve in a foreign military</a>. In a letter to the President of India, I wrote: ‘My conscience does not allow me to serve in the Indian Army anymore. Hence, I would request you to release me from the service.’The Defence Attache was furious: “I don’t know what you are up to, but let me tell you: if you do not take this back, the moment you are out of my office the system will get after you. There will be severe consequences. It’s not a threat. It is a concern and a personal advice.”Eight months of legal limbo, two years of isolation within the military, months of illegal military custody, and a Court Martial led to my conviction on the charge of ‘desertion’ and dismissal from service. I returned to Nepal in 2016.A week before the deadline for the promulgation of the Constitution in September 2015, Indian Foreign Secretary S Jaishankar flew to Kathmandu as a special messenger of Prime Minister Narendra Modi. India wanted to delay the promulgation of the constitution to accommodate Madhesi demands.Sushil Koirala of the Nepali Congress, Pushpa Kamal Dahal of the Maoists and K P Oli of the UML, used each other as scapegoats. When he got a sense that Nepal was not listening, Jaishankar warned: “Modiji is not Manmohan Singh. Strict measures will be taken. There will be consequences.”The rest is now history, and a black page in the relationship between the two countries. The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/aftershocks-of-the-blockade/">Blockade</a> that immediately followed the 2015 earthquake<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/"> was a foreign</a> policy blunder at par with, if not worse than, the LTTE war in Sri Lanka in 1988-89.From the time when the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Ranas</a> leaned on British India with a clear ‘strategy for survival’, right to the present day, Nepal’s relations with the south has seen many transformations. Nepal’s dependence on India has helped preserve a colonial strategic and security mindset in the Indian establishment long after the British left.This security framework in New Delhi treats Nepal as a country that has to be saved from Chinese influence. Therefore the concept of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Equidistance-or-asymmetry-nepal-geopolitics,3850">equidistant foreign policy</a>, which has been the elusive goal of many Nepali strategists, is not taken very seriously in New Delhi. Every time Nepal wants to move towards equidistance, India has warned of the consequences.When Prime Minister K P Oli lands in New Delhi on Friday, he will be received as one of the most powerful leaders in Nepal’s history. Oli has support of nearly three-fourths of parliament, a majority rarely enjoyed by any other leader in recent times.Despite this, it will be virtually impossible for Oli to ask the difficult questions. The visit will be limited to tokenism, where the Modi government’s focus will be on reducing the political damage of the Blockade and the consequences to his party in next year’s elections. And Oli too, will be happy to play along.One of the main agendas of the Maoists, laid out in their 40-point demand to the royal government in 1996 before launching the armed struggle, was scrapping the 1950 treaty and the issue of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/More-warlike,1023">Gorkha recruitment</a>. Now, the Maoists are in power with the UML, but none of the comrades wants to be reminded of those demands anymore.The reason why I took that step five years ago, and why I felt so strongly that it was time to stop Gorkha recruitment was that it is a scar on our national self-esteem. At the core of it, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Gurkhas-dying-for-others,2938">Gorkha recruitment into the Indian and British armies</a> sends out the message to the world: ‘If you pay us enough, we are even ready to die for you.’But however powerful K P Oli may be, and despite his nationalism narrative, even he will not dare raise this issue in New Delhi.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Nepalis-waited-200-years-for-country-to-be-proud-of,2939">Looking back to the future</a> ,  Editorial<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Gurkhas-dying-for-others,2938">Dying for others</a>,  Om Aatha Rai<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/More-warlike,1023">More warlike</a>,  Deepal Aryal<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Equidistance-or-asymmetry-nepal-geopolitics,3850">Equidistance or asymmetry</a>,  Editorial

Asking the difficult questions

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

As soon as she milks her cow, 52-year-old Punam B K is off, pedaling her bicycle furiously along the highway with a blue milk can in the front basket.&nbsp; By the time she arrives at the Jaya Shiva Ganesh Dairy Producers Cooperative in Gopalganj village, others are already there, their bicycles parked on the roadside. The farmers are all holding on to their blue milk cans, and are chatting away.&nbsp; “We keep what is needed for the family, and sell whatever remains here at the cooperative,” says B K, as the volume, fat and non-fat solid content of her milk is measured. It is then poured into a bigger vat to be mixed with milk from other farmers. B K collects her receipt with the value of her milk, and prepares to head home. The farmers are reimbursed on a quarterly basis.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-family-that-works-together-stays-together">A family that works together stays together</a>, Sahina Shrestha “Everyone around here has at least a cow or buffalo to provide milk for the family, the cowdung is used for fertiliser, and we can bring whatever is left over to the cooperative,” says B K who, like the others, brings her milk by bicycle twice a day, once in the morning and again in the evening.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_0df32c0f6a572aef83eca02dc7a86f75ea5dbc88dc6c2390d42a44ab3cc93395.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241210081232_0df32c0f6a572aef83eca02dc7a86f75ea5dbc88dc6c2390d42a44ab3cc93395" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1275" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  All this may seem like nothing special, just an ordinary farmer selling her milk. But it has to be seen in the context of dairy farmers overcoming subsistence and increasing household income. Nearly 200,000 dairy farmers from over 1,200 cooperatives have not been paid by the government-run DDC for their milk for a year or more.&nbsp; The DDC has fixed a quota for buying milk from cooperatives that limits production even during the peak winter months. Farmers in Chitwan are so fed up, they have staged demonstrations in Kathmandu and even poured milk on the East-West Highway in protest.&nbsp; Punam B K’s milk ends up in Bhawani Dairy, a milk processing plant in Chitwan that buys milk from various cooperatives in the district. It was established six years ago by three entrepreneur cousins Devrath Baral, Drishya Baral and Subash Paudel and is now being supported by the Commercial Agriculture for Smallholders and Agribusiness (CASA) project.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_4e3c65390b9c5345f807b10cbb8c36b006ef6d3cb972e07b5067f4b2db2be32e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241210081232_4e3c65390b9c5345f807b10cbb8c36b006ef6d3cb972e07b5067f4b2db2be32e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1102" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  This UK-funded project implemented by Swisscontact in Nepal has been supporting agro-businesses in 23 countries in Asia and Africa. They focus on improving the capacity of private dairy and vegetable farmers to find markets and build a sustainable supply chain for their produce. It helps dairies like the one in Chitwan with branding and marketing, as well to track business through a Dairy Management System (DMS) digital database.&nbsp; Bhawani Dairy also got support to conduct orientation for cooperative farmers to learn about new ways to boost productivity with breeding, cowshed management and hygiene maintenance. Many commercial farmers in Chitwan, some with up to 60 cows and buffaloes, have benefited.&nbsp; B K says she only has six cows, so not everything she hears at the orientation about increasing cowshed area is applicable. “We are just happy our milk is not wasted, and we can earn some cash from the surplus,” she says.&nbsp; Bhawani Dairy’s clientele is based entirely in Chitwan and in towns along the East-West Highway. But building on its success here, the company is looking to expand nationwide and target the Kathmandu market. Being a perishable product, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/nepal-s-milk-heartland-rebounds">diary business is challenging</a>. Businesses also need investment and technical support to diversify into value-added milk products like cheese, yoghurt, ice cream or powdered milk.&nbsp; “For now, the best thing we as a dairy business can do for farmers is to buy their milk at a decent price and pay them in time,” says Drishya Baral of Bhawani Dairy.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_6c06efb5674dbcd8679015af543bfda87030755383a13c9269e272af28e85953.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241210081232_6c06efb5674dbcd8679015af543bfda87030755383a13c9269e272af28e85953" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1275" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  Another agro-industry supported by CASA since 2018 is Himalayan Supervores, a venture that sources farm produce to supply vegetables and other foods to restaurants and hotels in the city, and even export Halal-certified produce to Gulf countries.&nbsp; CASA helped with cold chain management system to keep vegetable produce fresh so that the products earn trust about quality in the national and international market. Himalayan Supervores is already exporting to UAE and Qatar, and is targeting other Gulf countries next. “The guidance provided by the international expert was invaluable, we could not have bought that knowledge even with money,” says Nelson Shrestha of Himalayan Supervores. “It was not about fancy hardware, but how to minimise wastage, increase productivity, save time and money.”&nbsp; Though Himalayan Supervores collects vegetables from vegetable cooperatives, it indirectly works with a network of thousands of cooperative farmers. Its catchment area therefore is enormous, and it has enhanced their knowledge about organic farming methods, bio-pesticides, and the right way to handle and package vegetables. CASA’s most recent tie-up is with Pokhara-based Poshilo Foods, which specialises in increasing the shelf-life of local nutritional food items. During the Covid lockdown <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p3bparajuli/">Prithwi Kallyan Parajuli</a> saw an opportunity to supply nutritional foods that stayed longer, and set up Poshilo.&nbsp; It took traditional satu flour made from dry-roasted pulse, added more nutrients, and packaged it. Four flavours of satu with nutrient values differentiated for various age groups now line the shelves of supermarket chains like KK Mart, Saleways. Poshilo is now exploring the export market in India.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_a8dbea8c8d45ac4eff6c37fb47da7ff461989c662ba86d207a008381101acdcf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241210081232_a8dbea8c8d45ac4eff6c37fb47da7ff461989c662ba86d207a008381101acdcf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1275" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  In the five years of helping Nepali agribusinesses, CASA has already teamed up with 35 established companies. Parajuli heaps fulsome praise on the catalytic support and guidance he got early on, not just for product design, but to explore market viability, branding and marketing.&nbsp; He has participated in government-led programs before, but says those are one-off and focus only on technical solutions and do not pay much attention to the important back-end work with management and sales.&nbsp; Says Devrath Baral of Bhawani Dairy in Chitwan: “We would probably have eventually got to where we are now, but it would have taken years longer without CASA. And now we can share our experience with other agribusinesses in Nepal.”