The pronunciation of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/english-is-not-the-be-all-and-end-all">English</a> words can be quite difficult for those of us who attended government schools where phonetics were not part of the curriculum. English pronunciation has no rules anyway, and way too many exceptions.
While we may understand the meanings and proper contexts of words, we often struggle with their correct pronunciation. However, this is not my primary concern. Admittedly, my pronunciation can also be odd, incorrect, and even amusing at times, but I have something else that is serious to discuss.
I often feel a sense of discomfort in my mouth when I come across words that contain many letters. There seems to be a disconnect between what my mind intends to say and what actually comes out. My thoughts may be clear, but when I try to speak, the sound that comes out is different from what I intended.
At times, my nerves get the better of me, making it difficult to even say the word at all. I understand that these situations are normal but they still can affect my self-esteem. It makes my learning process tough. The only relief for me is that I have acknowledged the issue.
The first time I truly recognised my struggle with the word ‘acknowledgement’ was while reading a book to my daughter. I noticed the author’s acknowledgment section and thought it would be a great opportunity to show her how many people contribute to getting a book published.&nbsp;
However, when I attempted to read it aloud, I found myself unable to do so. I tried to mentally dissect the word and speak it, but nothing worked.
Despite preparing myself repeatedly, the moment I tried to say it, my tongue felt paralysed. That day, my daughter stepped in to help me pronounce it, but it took nearly a year before I could say it without feeling anxious. Generally, I rely on those around me or an online dictionary for assistance. I break the word down, write it in Nepali, and practice it multiple times, which helps me pronounce it correctly.&nbsp;
Yet, the very next day, when I need to use it again, my nerves kick in, and I find myself questioning whether I should just choose a different word. I stay committed to improving, and while I do make mistakes, I continue to learn. But sometimes, I feel like giving up and search for an easier word instead. Yet, when I’m speaking, that challenging word often resurfaces in my mind and slips out. Others may not notice, but I certainly do, and it disrupts the flow of my conversation, leading to more mistakes.
I know, over the time, I have improved a lot. However, there are thousands of such words and they come my way in different circumstances. I worked in the &nbsp;subscription department of a magazine for a short time. There I learned the meaning of ‘subscription’ but it took many years for me to pronounce it correctly.&nbsp;
After leaving the job, I encountered with the word when I switched myself from TV to YouTube in 2014. &nbsp;
Every this and that YouTuber was asking their audience to subscribe their channel. I used to utter the word every time the Nepali YouTuber said ‘subscribe my channel’ (without the ‘to’). I would laugh thinking until and unless I can pronounce the word correctly, who would ‘subscribe my channel’ if I had one. I could not say “Grahak Bannus” for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mobile-nepal-is-hooked-on-youtube">YouTube </a>as I used to request while working for the magazine subscription.
I have been exploring a new approach lately. When I anticipate discussing a specific topic, I create a list of key words that I know I need to include. If there are words I find challenging to pronounce, I take the time to practice them. Although this method has not produced immediate results, I remain committed to reducing my mistakes. How long will it take? I am not sure, but I continue to practice diligently.&nbsp;
Recently, I delivered a presentation at a conference in Sri Lanka on how the Constitution and laws have protected <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/can-nepal-elections-change-its-male-stream-politics">women’s roles in Nepal’s politics</a> over the past decade. I had mentally prepared myself to avoid the term ‘constitutionalised’ but my ingrained habits took over.&nbsp;
As I spoke, that word slipped out, and I found myself struggling. However, surprisingly, I did not feel nervous. I maintained my flow and continued speaking. The word came up again, and while I felt uncomfortable, I did not let it derail me. I focused on sharing other points confidently and remained composed throughout.
A few weeks ago during a meeting, I found myself struggling with the word ‘accompanied’. I had gone over it the night before, hoping it would come to me easily.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/lionel-messi-the-goat">Lionel Messi the goat</a>, Anbika Giri
Unfortunately, it popped into my mind at the wrong moment. It was the first time I openly acknowledged that certain words can trip me up. Thankfully, my colleagues stepped in to help me finish my accompan…ied.
Since that day, I have been diligently practicing it, hoping that next time it will flow smoothly and not trip up my tongue. I will not deny that I felt a wave of nervousness and shyness, but I also managed to laugh at myself, which helped me relax and keep the conversation going.
Lately, I have been working on getting comfortable with the term ‘statistician’. I know I will be using it a lot soon. I am just hoping that by the time I need to say that ‘the data I am discussing has been analysed by a skilled statistician’, my brain and tongue are in sync.

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Keeping brain and tongue in sync

Before the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trumpet-call">US presidential election </a>last month, my 17-year-old daughter asked, “Who do you think will win? How will it affect the world?” Just as I was about to respond, she jumped in with her own insights.&nbsp;
“I don’t believe American economic and foreign policies will change much, but the global perception of the US election will shift,” and she continued, “if Kamala wins, she’ll be the first woman president and the first woman of colour to hold that office. On the other hand, if Trump wins, it could hurt American’s pride.”
My follow-up question led to a new word that I was about to be introduced to in my life-long quest to master the English language: ‘felony’. She said: “How can Americans take pride in having a president with a felony conviction?”
I nodded vaguely, trying to figure out what ‘felony’ meant. What has Trump done now? My daughter simplified it for me, and explained that he has been convicted of numerous criminal offenses.&nbsp;
Since that conversation, the word ‘felony’ has popped up often both online and in my conversations with people. Does some human algorithm also exist, that has a way of figuring out what you are talking about?
My daughter has become my most steadfast English language teacher. And the best thing is, I do not have to pay her. And I do not have to feel embarrassed about asking questions. It helps that she is incredibly patient with me, and is usually available whenever I need her help.&nbsp;
She has also worked hard to help me improve my unusual pronunciation of the word ‘available’ which for some reason I could never say properly. She attended an English medium school from a young age, and this helped her to learn the language naturally.&nbsp;
Back when she was in Grade 1, she asked me why I seemed uncomfortable speaking English. Had I struggled in school, or had I failed English? As she grew older, she realised that in Nepal there are two distinct educational paths: one in which students struggle to speak and read in English, and another in which they face similar challenges with Nepali.
Sometimes, my daughter takes advantage of my unfamiliarity with certain words. A few Dasains ago, we went out for lunch together. She had a full pocket of cash, and when the bill arrived, she suggested we either split it or “go Dutch”.&nbsp;
I wasn’t sure what Holland had to do with it, so I opted to split the bill. She had ordered more items than I did, and in the end, I ended up paying more than my fair share. After we settled the bill, she explained what “going Dutch” meant. I knew the concept, but did not know how it was referred to in English. I still joke that she took linguistic advantage of me.
It is not just the English language, my daughter has been instrumental in helping me grasp the global discourse on sexuality. She encouraged me to approach the topic with curiosity instead of judgment, especially when I do not know enough about the subject. It was through her insights that I learned about the evolution of the term “gay” which originally described a sense of carefree joy and happiness before it came <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10644">to signify homosexuality</a>, particularly among men.
Together, we explore new words that have entered the language and their context, deepening my understanding. She continually shares the latest Gen Z slang like IDK, fr, sus, and iykyk, etc. Sometimes I ask her for clarification, and other times I google them before responding.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/english-is-not-the-be-all-and-end-all">English is not the be-all and end-all</a>
During a conversation about my friends, she candidly told me that I was being “salty”. At​ first, I struggled to understand, thinking it had to do with my feelings being hurt. Noticing​ my confusion, she took the time to explain that I was upset over trivial matters, which I​ really shouldn’t be.
I had heard the Argentinian football legend Lionel Messi was referred to as ‘the GOAT’ and often wondered why. He is such an incredible player and always so kind in public. So, whenever I heard or saw the term GOAT, I would picture an actual goat in my mind.&nbsp;
During one of our casual conversations, I asked my daughter why people refer to Messi as a goat, is it because he is so incredibly agile? At first, she burst out laughing, but then she explained that the acronym meant ‘greatest of all time’. Nowadays, whenever Messi is playing my daughter points to the monitor, and explaims: “Look, Ama, Messi the goat.”
My daughter has become like a life coach, teaching me English while offering straightforward life lessons and helping keep me grounded. When she showed curiosity about my English abilities, we both agreed to help each other grow and my daughter has truly embraced that commitment with heartfelt sincerity and love.&nbsp;

Lionel Messi the goat

For a long time, I believed that being able to speak, read, and understand English meant having the power of knowledge. In hindsight, I also realise that if learning English was simply like picking up another language, my journey would have been much smoother and definitely more enjoyable.&nbsp;
I took pride in learning Maithili from my mother and Tharu from my father’s workplace, and those experiences were both fun and fulfilling.
Previous episodes of this column, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi">Angrezi</a>, explain how I struggled with self-doubt, feelings of inferiority, and low self-esteem because of my deficient English language. When I came to the capital, I realised that English held a different significance in this city.&nbsp;
In <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/the-thappad">my village in Sunsari</a>, it was often seen as a way to show off. In Kathmandu, it represented much more than that: it was a source of power, a means of access, and a gateway to opportunities.
During my first visit to Kathmandu in the late 1990s, I listened to a relative unleashing every possible curse word she knew in English to her sister-in-law. That outburst was triggered by the sister-in-law reporting her brother for domestic violence.&nbsp;
I found the sister-in-law to be incredibly courageous in taking that stand. It was also the first time I heard English being spoken among family members within a home, which surprised me. But this family was considered intelligent simply because its members could speak English. Even though I was only 13 at the time, I couldn’t help but question how someone who believed that domestic violence should be hushed up could be considered smart.&nbsp;
When I came to Kathmandu for my Bachelor’s I encountered a few individuals who enjoyed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/leonardo-and-drew">discussing English films</a>, books, and music, and felt out of place and had little to contribute to the conversations.&nbsp;
At times, I would pretend to engage, while other times I would make excuses to leave early. I also attempted to learn more about the books and films being discussed, but it was exhausting. Despite my silence, I realised that they had information, but lacked deeper understanding.&nbsp;
They seemed captivated by popular music and literature, yet did not grasp the underlying messages those songs and books conveyed. Throughout my nearly year-long <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">work experience at a school library</a>, I remembered there was only one parent who visited. Not a single parent inquired about the types of books their children were reading or what genres excited their interest.&nbsp;
Their primary concern revolved around their child’s English proficiency. Many expressed frustration over their children’s struggle with the language, feeling embarrassed when their children could not communicate effectively in front of relatives and friends.&nbsp;
I recall Wangdi Sir saying that a school is not a language institute. A child may struggle with English, but they may excel in other subjects like science and math. Unfortunately, he struggled to persuade parents who had invested thousands in the hope that their children achieved fluency that it was not that important.&nbsp;
I encountered similar attitudes among parents across the country over the years. Many had moved from rural areas to cities, working tirelessly abroad to afford to send their children to English medium schools. There was also a noticeable bias, as families often prioritised sending sons to these more expensive schools and not their girls.
No wonder, society considers those who can speak English as intelligent, smart, or even a genius. To be sure, mastery of the English language can unlock a wealth of knowledge and provide opportunities for employment worldwide.&nbsp;
However, many do not understand that simply speaking English is not equal to intelligence, if one lacks access to enriching content in literature, art, music, or film. Ultimately, it is an individual’s upbringing, socialisation, choices, and the guidance they receive that plays a crucial role in knowledge and wisdom through English.&nbsp;
The English language is often misinterpreted as a sign of knowledge, not just in Nepal but in other developing countries where education is sometimes prioritised for language skills over true learning.
Ramesh Kumar, an economic journalist with Himalkhabar.com, recently shared on X that Nepali press releases from the World Bank and UN agencies in Kathmandu read like they were Google translated. He noted that hiring communications officers should not solely depend on their proficiency in English, they should also be skilled in the local language.&nbsp;
Relying on Google Translate or AI without understanding the context can lead to lots of embarrassing misunderstandings. Ultimately, all languages serve as tools for expression, but the messages conveyed can vary greatly.
My 5-year-old niece was already speaking English fluently even before she started pre-school. She lives in the village with my parents, where English is rarely spoken unless absolutely necessary. Yet, she picked up the language as if she had grown up in an English-speaking environment.&nbsp;
How did this happen? The secret was her love for cartoons, which she only watches in English. She has been learning both Nepali and English simultaneously, much like I did with Nepali and Maithili. I often wonder how her understanding of being a person, a woman, and a citizen will develop.&nbsp;
Language alone will not shape those identities. I hope we, as Nepalis, can grasp this concept. I also wish that our education system would instill in our children the values of humanity, equality, diversity, and not consider someone ‘civilised’ just because they can rattle off some English.
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal.

English is not the be-all and end-all

After I joined the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16458">United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN</a>) in June 2007 as the Language and Admin Assistant, I was assigned to the Arms Monitor section in Nepalganj. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14221">UNMIN</a> was established by the UN Security Council after the end of the Maoist conflict to monitor and implement the Comprehensive Peace Accord of 2006. Aside from other peacekeeping work, UNMIN maintained and administered <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17163">demobilised Maoist guerrillas</a> in seven main and 21 satellite <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17020">camps across Nepal</a>.
My main role in Nepalganj was to assist the international Sector Commander during meetings with various officials in the Mid-western region, including CDOs of various districts, politicians, security personnel from the police and army.
The first meeting of the Jordanian Sector Commander was at the Nepal Army barrack in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bardia-s-birds">Bardia</a>. Our group consisted of 9 people from the Arms Monitor section from various countries. The Jordanian’s English was easy to understand but the accents of others was harder to comprehend.
Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lost-in-translation"> Lost in translation</a>, Alisha Sijapati
We received a warm welcome from the Nepal Army, and the Battalion Commander explained the situation in the area, and gave us a tour of the base. I was nervous, but thought I had handled the interpretation well enough. Following the meeting, the soldiers served us breakfast.
Inside the personal dining room of the Battalion Commander, I noticed sandwiches, sliced mangoes, Coke, toast, jam, and butter laid out on the table. As we were getting ready to begin, a soldier approached the Commander and whispered something in his ear. The Commander then looked at me and asked, “लोकल कुखुराको मासु र चिउरा खान्छन् कि सोध्नु त?”
I turned to the Jordanian Sector Commander and was relaying the question but got stuck, “Would you like to eat local chicken with...”
Looking back at the Commander I asked: “चिउरालाई के भन्छन् अङ्ग्रेजीमा?” He found it hilarious that I did not know what चिउरा was is in English, and said, “Bitten Rice, हैन त?” He responded as if I had confirmed his unofficial translation. I then finished my sentence to the Sector Commander, asking whether he would like local chicken with “bitten” rice.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/mai-commin-sir-qfdjg2uw">"Mai commin, Sir?"</a>, Anbika Giri
Being an interpreter was fun because of gaffes like that that are funny in hindsight. The international staff of the Arms Monitor section were friendly, and were understanding of my difficult sometimes interpreting their English accents. They spoke in brief, simple sentences to make it easy for me.
After the ‘bitten rice’ episode, one day our team was being led by a Swedish military officer for a meeting with the Senior Superintendent of the Nepal Police. We arrived at his station, but he was not there because his force had been busy evicting members of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16873">Maoist Young Communist League (YCL)</a> from a house where they were occupying.
Luckily, both sides resolved the situation through dialogue, and the tension subsided. After meeting the YCL leader, we wanted to get the Police’s side of the story. When the SSP finally arrived, he looked preoccupied and we began promptly once he took his seat.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19640">"If I were to tell you everything I know about Prachanda ..."</a>
As I was translating his lengthy introduction of himself into a more concise version, I mistakenly referred to him as a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) rather than an SSP, which seemed to upset him. He asked me to repeat his full introduction correctly, including details about his long and illustrious career.
I quickly apologised and translated his introduction accurately. The Swedish army officer was seated across from him, jotting down notes. The SSP could read his English notes, and instructed me to tell the Swede to write down everything. (“मेरो पुरा परिचय लेख्न भन”)
I told the SSP politely that I was just the interpreter and could not tell the UNMIN officer what to write and not to write in his notebook. The short meeting ended, and the SSP insisted again that I tell the Swedish army officer to add a few more sentences of his introduction to his notes, and not just write ‘SSP’. (“एक दुई वाक्य थप्न भन्नु । ठ्यास्स एसएसपी मात्र त के लेखेको ।”
I held back my laughter because there was no way I could translate “ठ्यास्स” into English. There just is not an equivalent word, and it would need a whole sentence to get the thought across: “Perfunctorily just jot down the bare minimum and get it over with”, or words to that effect.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">From humiliation to humility</a>, Anbika Giri
Having a limited English vocabulary, making tons of grammatical errors, and feeling nervous were even more challenging when meeting politicians. It was hard to figure out where politicians put full stops and commas in their sonorous speeches.
Once in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/northwestern-tip-of-nepal-Humla,3430#google_vignette">Simikot of Humla district</a>, I was interpreting speeches at a gathering of over 100 members from various political parties. Everyone spoke passionately as if it was their last chance to be heard. I struggled to understand the local dialect – this was northwestern Nepal, and I am from the southeast.
The subject of the speeches was the rehabilitation of those <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war">forced to flee during the Maoist insurgency</a>. A young man, who seemed agitated, was yelling loudly. I stepped in to translate that his family had been forced from home due to the conflict when he was just 16. He was sent to Kathmandu for further education while his parents stayed in a rented house in Nepalganj.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13684">Youthful rivalry</a>, JOHN NARAYAN PARAJULI
All this was fairly easy to translate, but then he began angrily criticising a leader of the Maoist Party, using rude language. How could I translate such words into English? Besides, I did not even know the English equivalent of those local swearwords.
“मेरो कुरा अङ्ग्रेजीमा भन्दिनु” thundered the man in a menacing voice, asking me not to leave anything out. The Sector Commander asked what the man was going on about, and I told him I did not understand and apologised, while the man kept interrupting and accused me of not translating his tirade, and being biased.
I finally told the man: “तपाईंको गाली मलाई अङ्ग्रेजीमा भन्न आएन। गाली ट्रान्सलेट गर्न आको हो म?” (I cannot translate your curses. Am I here to translate your profanity?)He shouted back (expletives beeped out): “किन जागिर खाको त ? बाउको सोर्स होला... beep... beep... beep..” (Then why were you hired? Your Dad must know someone…)
I moved on to next person in the audience and completely ignored him. However, today as I think back at that day in Humla his angry words still ring in my ears. I wish now I could have told him that I got the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17292">UNMIN</a> interpreter job because a friend had heard about the opening and I filled out the UN’s complicated P11 application form. My Dad had no idea what I was getting into.
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Read earlier instalments of Angrezi, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">here</a>.

Me, the Interpreter

“Did you know this interview was supposed to be in English?” he asked with a smile. I reciprocated, although it was clear that his smile conveyed a sense of pity towards me. My smile, on the other hand, was more an expression of private shame.
I was being interviewed for the position of librarian at a residential English-medium school by the Managing Director. His personality was domineering: tall, well-built, and a pony tail.&nbsp;
I knew some of the questions he asked would be in English, but did not realise that I had to respond entirely in English too. I had some basic English language communication skills, but I was not fluent at the time.&nbsp;
“How are you planning to get by here? You clearly cannot speak the language, and our working language is English,” he said looking me directly in the eye. This interview was starting to scare me.
“म कथा भन्न सक्छु,” I blurted out in Nepali, trying to salvage my job prospect by highlighting my story-telling skills.“Okay. एउटा कथा सुनाउ,” he replied, as if to put me at ease. I immediately launched into a children’s story that had recently been published in Kopila, Kantipur’s school supplement.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/journalism-is-all-about-storytelling-and-money">Journalism is all about storytelling (and money)</a>
The story was about a letter that transformed the life of a girl with low self-esteem. She had felt unappreciated by everyone until the letter arrived from a dentist whom she had earlier helped by giving directions. The letter thanked her for being so helpful, and expressed how proud her mother must be for having such a smart daughter.&nbsp;
Despite my lack of English, the Managing Director must have found the story and my narration compelling. I got the job, but on probation and with condition attached: “You’re on your own. If you can’t connect with the students within a month, you’ll be let go.”&nbsp;
I started my job at the school library in 2006 just as the students were getting ready for their three-week summer break. Excitement and English chatter filled the air, but I could not quite follow what they were saying. They were too preoccupied with their vacation to notice me.&nbsp;
The library itself was a disaster zone. Books were scattered everywhere. And even though I had no prior knowledge of library management, I tried to bring some order into the chaos.&nbsp;
I was a voracious reader, but most of the books were in English and I felt overwhelmed. I dedicated long hours at the library, sometimes working late into the night. My goal was to familiarise myself with every single book in the stacks before the school year began, hoping to impress the students.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/read-and-let-read">Read and let read</a>, Anil Chitrakar
The holidays were coming to an end, and I felt the pressure mounting. Searching for a solution to ensure a smooth start, I came up with what I figured was a brilliant plan to convene a meeting with class captains before opening the library for all students. My reasoning was that if they were on board with enforcing library rules, the rest of the students would follow.
I was working late, and the Managing Director looked in, noticing the lights were still on. He seemed pleased to find the library in perfect condition, the books all organised.&nbsp;
“Don’t work late, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-brings-back-the-snow-leopard">leopard</a> may show up,” he said.&nbsp;
“Really? A लियोपार्ड?” I gasped, pronouncing it ‘Leo-Pard’. “Yes, तर लियोपार्ड हैन लेपर्ड चाहिँ आउँछ and they will chew you up,” he said, chuckling, and pronouncing the word leopard properly.Embarrassed, I corrected myself, silently repeating the correct pronunciation of लेपर्ड. I only understood later that he was jokingly referring to children chewing me out, not an actual leopard. This humiliation destroyed my confidence, and I lost the confidence to engage in conversation, even in Nepali.
Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/mai-commin-sir-qfdjg2uw"> "Mai commin, Sir?"</a>, Anbika Giri
The students returned and were informed about their meeting with the new Library Miss. There were two captains each from Class 4-10, and one school captain, totaling 13. I thought I was fully prepared, and it all began well.&nbsp;
But the assertiveness of the students and their fluency in English caught me completely off guard, and I fumbled for English words as my vocabulary vanished. Till this day, I feel the sweat on my forehead.
At first the class captains were taken aback, some attempted to correct my pronunciation, and then their giggling erupted into uncontrollable laughter. I could not bear the failure, and switched to Nepali but my confidence was shattered. I was not getting through at all. They walked away, making fun of my English pronunciation in a loud voice just to make sure I heard them.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/hi-hee-and-haha-hihi">Hi-Hee and Haha-Hihi</a>, Anbika Giri
Deflated, I also felt embarrassed in front of the teachers, fearing that the students may have mocked me. They insisted I speak to them in English. I avoided making eye contact and interacting with the students, I hardly spoke to the teachers, and if I did it was in Nepali.
After two months, Wangdi Sir noticed my silence. He was an English teacher from Kalimpong and was rigorous yet popular among students. He stood out among his colleagues as one of the few who preferred to spend time in the library, engrossed in reading.
One day, he asked me why I was so quiet. I shared my story, unburdening myself. He chuckled initially, but offered practical tutorials about<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepali-students-underperform"> handling students </a>in English with sentences like “Why don’t you try the fiction section?” or “May I help you find your book?”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/learning-about-teaching">Learning about teaching</a>, Prakriti Kandel
Before Wangdi Sir’s help, whenever a student requested a book I would simply get it and hand it over to them without uttering a single word. Wangdi Sir taught me that recognising weakness was the first step in overcoming it. Steadily, my confidence level improved, and I started to build rapport with students. Whenever I mispronounced something, I would politely ask them to correct me.
My eight-month tenure transitioned from a state of humiliation to a one of humility. This was when my interest in children’s literature blossomed, and the library gave me a deeper understanding of the students’ perspectives and interests.&nbsp;
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Find her previous columns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi">here</a>.

From humiliation to humility

Back in July 2007, while living in Kathmandu I had most of my evening meals at Angan’s Tripureswar outlet, since at the time I had no clue how to cook a proper meal.
The most I could manage was to make tea, haluwa, and chauchau, which I did not care much for during my pregnancy. But since I had a huge appetite, every evening I would be at my table at Angan for a South Indian thali and sweets, and even pack some dhokla for later at night.&nbsp;
On my first visit to Angan, I sat down and patiently waited for someone to take my order. Five minutes later, I was still waiting. I called a waiter over, and said, “Menu दिनु न.”
“यहाँ त प्रीपेड सेल्फ-सर्भिस हो।” he replied in an offhand manner, telling me to order at the counter, pay and get a receipt.&nbsp;
Thanks to Nepal Telecom, I understood what a ‘pre-paid’ service was. But I had no concept of a ‘self-service’ restaurant with waiters. Looking around, I noticed everyone was getting their own food and refilling water glasses themselves.&nbsp;
I grasped the concept of self- service, but I was not all that thrilled about it. If I went to a restaurant, I preferred to be served at the table no matter where I was. It was probably the only time I was not excited to learn something new in English, and I regretted choosing that outlet. But it was already 7PM and I was starving, and did not have the energy to search for another place to eat since I was new to the area then.
I lazily made my way to the counter, I placed my order, paid, and returned to my seat. I had sworn to myself that I would not set foot in this place again, but for today, I let it slide. My hunger was unbearable, causing me to constantly glance towards the counter, anxiously checking my receipt number.&nbsp;
To distract myself, I started playing snake games on my tiny Nokia 1100 phone. I was completely engrossed in the game, oblivious to the fact that someone had already placed a glass of water on my table. When another customer’s number was called, I finally looked up and noticed the water before me.&nbsp;
To my pleasant surprise, a gentleman approached my table with a tray of food. A wave of happiness washed over me. “If you need more water or anything else, feel free to order from here,” the man kindly informed me.
I was truly impressed by how well they treated me that day. They were always checking in to see if I required anything, if the food was too spicy, or if I needed a refill of water. I completely forgot about the negative impression I had of the place just 20 minutes earlier.
That July, 17 years ago, I practically dined at Angan every evening. I would take a seat and a waiter would promptly come to take my order. They always offered me water as soon as I sat down, and never failed to bring an extra sweet treat. It felt like I was eating in the comfort of my own home. One rainy day, they even gave me an umbrella to go home.
In early August, my landlady offered to cook for me as well. I gladly accepted and paid her for meals four times on the weekends and twice during the weekdays. Due to the rainy season, she was concerned about my safety and did not want me slipping and getting hurt. I appreciated her gesture and stopped going to Angan. I am not sure who owned Angan or managed the Tripureswar outlet in 2007, but I am still thankful to them to introduce a newcomer to Kathmandu about the concept of ‘self-service’.&nbsp;
It may be late, considering my daughter is now nearly 17 years old, but I still have a soft spot for the outlet and want to give gratitude where it is due. Oh, and ‘due’ is a word the versatility of which I discovered at about the same time.
I was sad and frustrated. More sad than frustrated, more nervous than sad. And scared. It had been 42 weeks, and there was still no sign of labour pain. The doctor had given the all-clear just two days earlier, but the absence of any sign of labour was puzzling.&nbsp;
I was at a computer shop in Jhamsikhel to fix my laptop. The technician was trying to figure out what the problem was. I was distracted, and could not relax. Even though it was September, I was sweating.
Looking at me, a friendly middle-aged foreign-looking man at the shop asked in English, “May I ask when you’re due?”&nbsp;
I was as big as an elephant, and he was not much smaller. I noticed he had squeezed himself into the corner of the sofa to make room for me. His kindness touched me, but I did not understand his question especially the word ‘due’. I smiled faintly, indicating I was not interested in responding.
Not only was he kind, but intelligent too. He figured out this was a language issue, and cleverly combined sign language with words, pointing towards my belly, asking, “When is the baby coming out?”
“I don’t know,” I said in fright.&nbsp;
I noticed his eyes widen behind his glasses, but before he could interrogate me further, the &nbsp;technician told me to come back later in the day for my laptop. I hurriedly exited the store.
Once outside, I headed to a cyber cafe and googled the word ‘due’. I was surprised to see that a simple three letter English word had so many meanings:
1. Adjective: Expected at or planned for at a certain time. “The baby’s due in August”
2. Of the proper quality or extent.
“driving without due care and attention”
3. Noun: one’s right,what is owed to one. “He thought it was his due.”
4. An obligatory payment, a fee.
“He had paid trade union dues for years.”
5. Adverb (with reference to a point of the compass) exactly; directly.
“We’ll head due south again on the same road.”
Looking back now, I chuckle at my attempts to learn English in such baffling situations in Nepal. More in the next episode.&nbsp;
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Read earlier instalments of Angrezi, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi">here</a>.

Giving credit where it is due

Autobooks were popular at our school. They were diaries where friends could jot down something, creating a lifelong memory. It was customary for friends to stick photos in each other’s photobooks, so we could look at their faces whenever we missed them.&nbsp;
Back in the 2000s, we students knew that we would eventually have to part ways. Some of us, mostly girls, would get married, others would leave the village to pursue higher education, and some would start working.
We were convinced that after completing our SLC, it would be nearly impossible to reunite with school friends. This was before Facebook.
Filled with overwhelming emotions, we yearned for a tangible keepsake of our time together. Filling an autobook and having one filled was truly special. We poured our hearts out, expressing how our school life was coming to an end and how the new world awaiting us would never be the same.&nbsp;
We wished our friends the very best in their future endeavours and humbly asked for forgiveness if we had ever hurt them. We even included some heartfelt shayari verses, along with our favourite food, name, place, actor, actress, movie, dress, and even surnames.
In the initial trimester of Class 10 we were engrossed in writing for friends and requesting them to return to write in our autobooks. The task of choosing the most captivating photo for the autobook posed quite a challenge. After all, it was supposed to last a lifetime.
My elder sister only made her autobook when she was in her +2 when I was in Class 7. Since she had attended an English medium school until Grade 6, her English was good. Additionally, living in Biratnagar, the biggest city I knew back then, she naturally wrote the autobook in English.&nbsp;
Everything she wrote was original, she knew the meaning of every word. Following her example, my other sisters also wrote the autobook in English. Both had copied our elder sister. When my turn came, I naturally followed suit.&nbsp;
We not only copied the format but also the best actor, actress, movie, and everything else. We used to believe that whatever our elder sister liked must be likeable and unique.
Her favourite actor was <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000138/">Leonardo DiCaprio</a>, the actress was <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000106/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Drew Barrymore</a>, and the movie was Titanic. They became our favourites too, although we had no idea who the two were or what <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120338/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0_tt_8_nm_0_q_titanic">Titanic</a> was all about. But we trusted her taste. If she admired them, they must be truly remarkable.&nbsp;
It seemed that my friends shared the same sentiment, as they too copied Leo and Drew as their favourites actor and actress. Although we had different preferences when it came to Nepali and Indian actors, Leo and Drew were the common Hollwood choices.
I first learned about Titanic during my college years and saw the movie in 2008. Before that, I had already watched another film starring DiCaprio, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0450259/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">Blood Diamond</a>, in 2007. While I enjoyed both movies, my favourite actor at the time was <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000158/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1">Tom Hanks</a>. I discovered Tom before Leo, but somehow I completely forgot about Drew.
I have a problem with English films. I can easily remember the plot, but I cannot put a name to the actors. The same goes for songs - I could recognise the tune, but could not remember the singer’s &nbsp;name. I am better now, but still struggle to remember their names.&nbsp;
Five years ago, I googled Drew Barrymore, and can you believe it: I had actually watched two of her movies multiple times on DVD, ’<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0343660/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">50 First Dates</a>’ and ‘<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0160127/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0_tt_8_nm_0_q_Charlie%27s%2520Angels">Charlie's Angels</a>’. I had even seen her in ‘Music and Lyrics’, but I had no idea that she was the Drew Barrymore who was my sister’s favourite and through her mine, and the favourite of the entire class. I wonder if Leo and Drew are still favourites of any of my friends or even my sisters?&nbsp;
While moving flats in Kathmandu multiple times, I misplaced my autobook. It would be fascinating to revisit our autobooks, and to see how our preferences have evolved over time. Some were altered as we discovered better options, while others were modified as our understanding improved.
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. See her previous columns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/hi-hee-and-haha-hihi">here</a>.

Leonardo and Drew

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/ball-in-balen-s-court">Nepal’s newly-installed Prime Minister Balendra Shah</a> unveiled his Council of Ministers after taking the oath of office on Friday in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Besides Nepal's pre-existing problems, his team will immediately have to deal with the fallout of the West Asia conflict to satisfy an electorate impatient for change. The Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) won a majority in the 5 March election and capped the Cabinet size at 15. Shah, a structural engineer and musician, himself has taken charge of the Defence and Industry Ministries. There has been an attempt to make the Cabinet inclusive with women in five of the new portfolios.&nbsp; After much negotiation, the powerful Home Ministry, a bone of contention between Shah and RSP Chair Rabi Lamichhane, has gone to Sudan Gurung, a hitherto little-known figure who <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-or-what-is-hami-nepal">rose to prominence after the September GenZ protest</a> and won the election from Gorkha-2.&nbsp; Gurung will be in charge of Nepal’s internal security apparatus and maintaining law and order. And with Gurung, a close ally of the Prime Minister, in charge, some note the Home Ministry will be a hook for Shah if Lamichhane, with his share of controversies, steps out line.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_c7725ea5fb9ffbf96df25a7b3122520b7ae3ee10548aed3f37781a7e5440e51a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260327090324_c7725ea5fb9ffbf96df25a7b3122520b7ae3ee10548aed3f37781a7e5440e51a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>  Notable RSP leaders, including vice-chair DP Aryal, were said to have been vying for the portfolio.&nbsp; Gurung is the founder of the non-profit Hami Nepal, which worked primarily in earthquake relief in 2015, and emerged onto the national stage during negotiations to appoint Sushila Karki as interim PM after the unrest. He was also involved in key negotiations that cemented Balendra Shah and Rabi Lamichhane’s political partnership in the runup to the election.&nbsp; Most new Cabinet members are not just first-time ministers, but are also freshmen lawmakers. Many are experts in their fields. Finance Minister Swarnim Wagle is an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-to-rebrand-itself">economist </a>with degrees from the London School of Economics and Harvard, and was previously Chief Economic Advisor at the UNDP Regional Bureau for Asia and the Pacific, and also served in Nepal’s National Planning Commission.&nbsp; Previously a member of Nepali Congress, Wagle exited the party in 2023 following differences with top leadership, and joined the RSP. Wagle won a by-election from Tanahu-1 in 2023 and won again from the same constituency in this month’s election.&nbsp; Shishir Khanal, who heads RSP’s foreign affairs department, has been appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs. &nbsp;Khanal is co-founder of Teach For Nepal, was briefly Education Minister when the RSP was part of the the Pushpa Kamal Dahal-led coalition government in 2023.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_b1a670bac12e2bf4df955134f58c8de7718d48f6be4e1f2df7c7c52f82e36e42.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260327090324_b1a670bac12e2bf4df955134f58c8de7718d48f6be4e1f2df7c7c52f82e36e42" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>  Law Minister Sobita Gurung is a lawyer by profession and worked in governance and public policy before she was elected as the youngest MP in the 2022 election.&nbsp; Health Minister Nisha Mehta is a nurse and became a lawmaker under the Proportional Representation system in this election which swept the RSP to power with a near two-third majority.&nbsp; Education Minister Sasmit Pokharel, a first-time MP elected from Kathmandu-5, served as an aide to Balendra Shah when he was mayor of Kathmandu and a was member of the KMC City Planning Commission.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_5ed794d7bf0cac2844277521810225c4355746b9c3f7369f70cacc878c94641f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260327090324_5ed794d7bf0cac2844277521810225c4355746b9c3f7369f70cacc878c94641f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>  Biraj Bhakta Shrestha is Energy Minister, and also served as the Minister for Youth and Sports in the Dahal-led coalition government in 2024. Before joining RSP, Shrestha was elected to the Bagmati Provincial Assembly in the 2017 elections representing the r<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rsp-s-activist-dna">eformist Bibeksheel Sajha Party</a>. He will immediately face the challenge of addressing the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rough-road-ahead-for-new-nepal-rulers">impact of the West Asia war,</a> including rising petroleum prices and a shortage of cooking gas. Sita Badi, who was elected through the PR system, is Minister for Women, Children and Senior Citizens. She was born and brought up in the underserved and marginalised Badi community in Surkhet and has been advocating for the rights and welfare of women, children, and minority communities. Other ministers include RSP spokesperson Pratibha Rawal as Minister for Federal Affairs and General Administration as well as Land Management, and Gita Chaudhary as Minister for Agriculture, Sunil Lamsal is Physical Infrastrucutre, Transport, and Urban Development Minister, Khadka Raj (Ganesh) Paudel as Tourism and Civil Aviation Minister. Dipak Sah is the Labour and Employment Minister, and Bikram Timilsina is Communication Minister.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_b67c2d199d4897031583a5b7ec7ce43e88771167696e6161665eeb5fca25d3ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260327090324_b67c2d199d4897031583a5b7ec7ce43e88771167696e6161665eeb5fca25d3ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>  Meanwhile, RSP vice-chair DP Aryal, who many thought would be home minister because of his proximity with Rabi Lamichhane has been proposed as Speaker of the House.&nbsp; Aryal previously served two brief stints as the Minister of Labour when RSP was part of the RSP’s coalition governments in 2023 and 2024. As minister Aryal came <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/skeletons-in-the-cabinet-k5x6py1v">under scrutiny </a>for his involvement in an employment agency that was investigated for illegal acquisition of wealth in 2020. If appointed House Speaker, Aryal will be expected to play a neutral and non-partisan role in Parliamentary affairs. &nbsp; With the full Cabinet announced on Friday, Prime Minister Shah and his team now have their work cut out for them. &nbsp;The government’s first priority will be ensuring the safety and long-term security of the almost two million <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrant-workers-in-wartime">Nepalis living and working in the Gulf</a> amid the ongoing conflict in the region, and taking steps to cushion Nepal’s economy from the Israel-US war on Iran. The new leaders will also be tasked with implementing the findings of the Karki Commission report on the September violence that paved the way for the election and the rise of the RSP. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_69b36bc62737e44ade4080be36688f9c2f92201356e1df2072cef8ecc6a9be5d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260327090324_69b36bc62737e44ade4080be36688f9c2f92201356e1df2072cef8ecc6a9be5d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> <figcaption>Snapshots from PM Balen Shah's swearing-in ceremony</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_69b36bc62737e44ade4080be36688f9c2f92201356e1df2072cef8ecc6a9be5d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20260327090324_69b36bc62737e44ade4080be36688f9c2f92201356e1df2072cef8ecc6a9be5d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_8646d490883154f696bcdc6e2375084419f2eefaaf0ef0c7e2710aa6e2d94a8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20260327090324_8646d490883154f696bcdc6e2375084419f2eefaaf0ef0c7e2710aa6e2d94a8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260327090324_89d17d6584593be1eb23eb1d4872c3b7c600e1620f3aca48dbff4838364a1e3c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20260327090324_89d17d6584593be1eb23eb1d4872c3b7c600e1620f3aca48dbff4838364a1e3c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Shah swearing in NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;Full list of ministers: Prime Minsiter: Balendra Shah Home Minister: Sudan Gurung Finance Minister: Swarnim Wagle Foreign Affairs Minister: Shishir Khanal Law, Justice and Parliamentary Affairs Ministry: Sobita Gautam Energy, Water and Irrigation Minister: Biraj Bhakta Shrestha Education Minister: Sasmit Pokharel Physical Infrastrucutre, Transport, and Urban Development Minister: Sunil Lamsal Communication and Information Ministry: Bikram Timilsina General Administration Minister: Pratibha Rawal Women, Children and Senior Citizens Minister: Sita Badi Health and Population Minister: Nisha Mehta Agriculture Minister: Gita Chaudhary Culture, Tourism and Civil Aviation Minister: Khadka Raj (Ganesh) Paudel&nbsp; Labour Minister: Dipak Sah

Nepal swears in new Cabinet

Next to my home in Bhainsepati stood a dead Uttis tree next to a public tap. A nearby water tank built a year earlier had killed its roots.
If the tree collapsed, people living nearby and those queuing up to fetch water at the tap would be hurt. With the storm season approaching, the risk was obvious. The tree could also fall on my own house, so I volunteered to find a way to remove this threat.
Little did I know how difficult it would be. A forest officer acquaintance told me there is a special procedure for cutting risky trees. I contacted the Lalitpur District Forest Office (DFO).&nbsp;
He said a technical report from a field officer was needed, and passed on her number. When I called, she asked for the location, photos, and a video. I send them all.
The ward office also suggested I use Lalitpur Metropolitan City’s mobile app, Lalitpur Alert, to report the problem. I uploaded photos, and submitted the complaint. This seemed to be very easy and efficient.
Indeed, the next day the municipality called me back and I explained the situation. They said they could not act without permission from the DFO. I asked why the app existed if the city could not act on such complaints. The officer said he did not know. My happiness was short-lived.
A couple of days later, the app notified me that my problem had been solved, and the complaint was removed. But the dead tree still stood there defiantly.&nbsp;
A week later, two forest technicians arrived on a scooter to inspect the tree. They looked up at the tree and asked if I had a measuring tape so they could measure its diameter.
“You are the technicians,” I told them. “You came to inspect the tree, and you came without a measuring tape?”
I rummaged at home and found a tape measure. They got the diameter and said they would prepare a technical report, but I would have to obtain a recommendation letter from the ward office and submit it to the DFO.
“This tree is dead,” I told them. “It is on public land. You have seen it with your own eyes. You know it's dangerous, so write a report and arrange for it to be cut. Why do I have to run from office to office to apply for recommendation letters?”
Their answer was simple, yet expected: “Those are the rules.”
They left, and I gave up. Two technicians spent half a day visiting the site. The metropolis runs a complaint system with a mobile app funded with public money. The ward office has staff to solve problems. Yet none of these institutions took the responsibility to remove a dangerous tree.
Everyone is busy citing rules and regulations and passing the buck. Weeks passed. Everyone reacted to the problem, but no one took any responsibility to resolving it.
Then, one bright December morning under a deep blue sky, a few neighbourhood boys were swinging their axes on the trunk. They had no proper equipment, no safety gear, and no professional experience.
I gave the boys some money and so did a neighbour. It took an hour or so for the tree to come crashing down safely. We had paid to have the tree cut illegally, and the matter ended there.
Multiple government offices, technicians, procedures, and mobile apps could not remove a dangerous tree, and we had to break the law to cut it. The tree is gone now, but the real problem remains: an inefficient bureaucracy.&nbsp;
It is perhaps symbolic that the tree is the election sign of the Nepali Congress, which was part of Nepal's governance and bureaucracy for decades and did not perform well in this month's election.&nbsp;
That is the bureaucracy that the new RSP government now has to get to work. But it will not be easy.
I posted on Facebook: ‘When people feel leaders have grown arrogant or corrupt with power, they change their minds and their votes. If those who replace them follow the same path, voters will again change their minds and votes.’
I continued: ‘The strength of democracy lies in this simple principle: the more citizens act as independent voters, the stronger democracy becomes. The more they behave as party loyalists, the weaker it grows. If we want a better system, we must demand deep reform of the state bureaucracy and hold institutions accountable.’&nbsp;
The first responses came from two senior government officials. They told me privately that they agreed by 200% but could not say so publicly.
It is quite normal for a Nepali to get the run around in government offices, it is almost a given to be asked for a bribe. As an environmental reporter and citizen, I have numerous such examples.
It is not just one sector that has been suffering. It is everywhere, and this is just an example of how complicated our bureaucracy is. As a 40 something person, I am old enough to remember the 1990 pro-democracy movement, &nbsp;the Maoist insurgency. Many promises made then by the politicians were broken.
We fought for rights, we fought for regime change. The country has changed political systems several times, from monarchy to multiparty democracy and finally a republic.
Yet one thing that remains largely untouched or reformed is our inefficient and corrupt bureaucracy. The new government, to be led by the youngest prime minister in our history must start this reform if it wants to deliver.&nbsp;
Otherwise, we may have to keep changing governments every few years, and still find ourselves unable to legally cut down even one dead tree.

A dead tree tests Nepal's bureaucracy

The RSP and its prime minister are being sworn in this week after gaining an unprecedented election victory. This is a welcome change for many Nepalis who see it as a remedy to decades of coalition instability.&nbsp; Yet Nepal’s political history suggests otherwise. No majority government has ever completed its full term. This reveals a deeper structural problem: weakly institutionalised parties dominated by personalities rather than ideas. 1951: Dissatisfaction with the oppressive Rana regime among the educated elite led to the creation of political parties like the Nepali Congress (NC), Praja Parishad (later merged into the Nepali Congress), Gorkha Parishad, and the Nepal Communist Party.&nbsp; They emerged secretly, mainly in India during the height of that country’s independence. They organised a successful armed uprising against the Rana rule.&nbsp; 1959: The NC won a two-thirds supermajority in the first general election. Within a year, King Mahendra staged a coup and established the partyless absolute monarchy called the Panchayat system.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260322130332_a416ab5703287898f0566dc6d2a6b95d797ce2f4ed55bffcfae2e8edc7737c5e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260322130332_a416ab5703287898f0566dc6d2a6b95d797ce2f4ed55bffcfae2e8edc7737c5e" data-rendition-name="original" width="675" height="849" loading="lazy" alt="Mahendra and BP"> </figure>  1991: After the People’s Movement, the ban on parties was lifted and Nepal became a constitutional monarchy. Elections were held under a new Constitution and the NC won 110 out of 205 seats, joining the United Leftist Front which functioned as a loose coalition.&nbsp; Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala’s first term ended with his resignation due to infighting, particularly with Ganesh Man Singh, who accused him of <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/2645025" target="_blank">“emerging as a dictator, downgrading democratic norms and values, and even selling out national interests.”</a> Parliament was dissolved and the NC ended up losing the ensuing elections. 1994: Following the NC’s defeat, a <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/2645025" target="_blank">hung parliament emerged</a> with the UML forming a minority government that lasted only nine months before collapsing after a no-confidence vote, allowing a NC-led coalition to return to power.&nbsp; 1999: Voters gave the NC a second chance and the party won 111 out of 205 seats. The party was divided between supporters of Koirala and Krishna Prasad Bhattarai, who became prime minister. &nbsp;The internal NC power struggle intensified and Koirala became prime minister again only to face bribery scandals, the Maoist insurgency, and the royal massacre.&nbsp; In 2001, under growing pressure from both the public and the party, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2001/07/20/world/nepal-premier-resigns-caught-in-chaos-after-royal-blood-bath.html" target="_blank">Koirala was forced to resign</a> to be replaced by Sher Bahadur Deuba. The party eventually split into Koirala’s NC and Deuba’s NC (Democratic). &nbsp;In this chaos, king Gyanendra dissolved the parliament and assumed executive powers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260322130332_e107b95de5641044f72a13fd20f417d16b9a2d1ecbae3492126ee5fd4244bd84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260322130332_e107b95de5641044f72a13fd20f417d16b9a2d1ecbae3492126ee5fd4244bd84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="753" loading="lazy" alt="Deuba and Girija"> </figure>  2017: This was the first election under the federal constitution. The UML and Maoists created a surprise pre-electoral alliance, breaking the Maoist coalition with the NC. The left alliance won a massive victory with the UML winning 121 seats and the Maoists 53 seats. Prime Minister K P Oli fell out with Pushpa Kamal Dahal of the Maoists. The House was dissolved, with the UML itself breaking into factions. What followed was seven shaky coalition governments in eight years.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260322130352_8b09b374d7fcb811e0a652c7f60b30eea4b9052a19ed3d768ba8ca9aaeb4dec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260322130352_8b09b374d7fcb811e0a652c7f60b30eea4b9052a19ed3d768ba8ca9aaeb4dec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="667" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Oli and Prachanda"> </figure>  2022: The RSP was formed only four months prior to elections, but managed to become the fourth-largest party. In this month’s &nbsp;election, the RSP won a commanding parliamentary majority by presenting itself to the electorate as different from the discredited old parties.&nbsp; The RSP leadership structure is largely personality-driven and opaque. Party leader Rabi Lamichhane joined the governing coalition with the Maoists and UML securing four ministerial positions. Lamichhane became Home Minister and Deputy Prime Minister, using his swing vote to be the kingmaker party in the coalition. Lamichhane was embroiled in various scandals which he blamed on political vendetta. There was internal dissent within the party and among supporters who felt the coalition betrayed RSP’s founding ideals.&nbsp; Lamichhane <a href="https://thediplomat.com/2023/02/key-ally-quits-government-in-nepal/" target="_blank">reportedly</a> bypassed the party’s internal mechanisms, unilaterally deciding to pull out of the government without broad consultation.&nbsp; The youth-led September protests gave the RSP an opportunity to represent GenZ aspirations, and its popularity was cemented after Balendra Shah joined the party as a prime ministerial candidate.&nbsp; With its dramatic election victory, there is a question whether the &nbsp;party can separate itself from its two leaders, and have internal democracy. Or will it just be a vessel for new political elites to continue staying in power?&nbsp; ‘BALEN PARTY’ The RSP has increasingly relied on the same tactics that the NC once used in its heyday. Backed by Balendra Shah’s meteoric rise to fame, the RSP is called ‘The Balen Party’. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cyberia/rsp-s-pr-list-is-not-good-pr" target="_blank">RSP’s PR list</a> includes celebrities, actors, singers, pageant winners, business personalities, and athletes to maximise visibility and public appeal. Many of these soon-to-be MPs have little to no experience working in government, or together as a team. Which is perhaps why they needed a two-day orientation last week. In today’s attention economy, political currency depends on visibility. This is why the RSP’s strategy to harness Shah’s popularity was necessary to secure victory, while Shah needed a political platform for the election.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260322130348_abd1522a1f4f8ad4a0861c3916d86bd9688deafc7c44081b976378405d2b8e39.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260322130348_abd1522a1f4f8ad4a0861c3916d86bd9688deafc7c44081b976378405d2b8e39" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Balen and Rabi"> </figure>  Political parties are essential for a democracy, but when they &nbsp;revolve around one dominant leader, internal institutions become weak, and decision-making becomes centralised in the leader rather than in party committees, rules, or ideological platforms.&nbsp; This is exactly what led to the downfall of the NC and the UML. Both over the years were ridden with inter- and intra-party strife and failed the electorate. RSP must take a lesson from this and unite to institutionalise beyond its two personalities. Or it will suffer the same fate as the legacy parties. Since its inception, RSP has espoused a populist and anti-establishment agenda. The ‘new’ RSP with the Balendra brand gained massive support by being a clear ‘other’.&nbsp; The RSP can fall into the same trap as the NC and the UML by defining itself by what it is not, rather than what it is for. Beyond the external enemies they oppose, these parties often struggle to articulate what they actually stand for.&nbsp; RSP positions itself as an alternative to established parties — a pragmatic, results-oriented political force rather than one driven by traditional ideologies. However,<a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/abs/theorizing-in-comparative-politics/parties-and-ideology/8386083191B53EC86A239B8852D4A6A6" target="_blank"> ideology gives a party identity and direction.</a> Without ideological grounding, RSP risks becoming a hollow vessel for power-chasing politicians who oppose each other’s every move, a story that is all too familiar.&nbsp; RSP can no longer define itself as being anti-establishment. It is now the establishment.&nbsp; While RSP might look like Congress 2.0 to many who have seen Nepal’s democratic trajectory, RSP does differ from past majority parties in both positive and negative ways.&nbsp; Times have also changed. Nepal is no longer a monarchy, literacy rates are much higher, social media has made information more accessible, and Nepalis are less forgiving, as seen by the events that transpired on 8-9 September 2025.&nbsp; The RSP has fielded more qualified candidates, and they could steer the country in the right direction. Many are experts in their fields and have had years of experience prior to joining politics. Having experts from such different backgrounds is a huge asset.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260322130352_426011e8c377bffcef6fcb4371325b36fb940eb5a8ab66d3c76ff5cf6f1943c7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260322130352_426011e8c377bffcef6fcb4371325b36fb940eb5a8ab66d3c76ff5cf6f1943c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="RSP new MPs"> </figure>  Moreover, having MPs from various other parties/fields can also prevent a cult following of hardcore loyalists within the party.&nbsp; There are members loyal to certain RSP leaders in the party, but there are also those who will not hesitate to go against their leaders if need be. The RSP has little opposition in Parliament, so its own members may have to take on a check-and-balance role. Nepal is in a much better spot institutionally compared to what it was like back in the early days of its democracy. There is a Constitution, there is no active conflict, the monarchy is no longer an existential threat to democracy, and the local and provincial governmental bodies have had the time to settle.&nbsp; This means the RSP is in a better position to work without the basic institutional hurdles that previous governments faced, but it will not be able to hide behind institutional issues if it fails to deliver.&nbsp; In the past, majority parties could easily pin the blame on an authoritarian monarchy, a Maoist conflict, a lack of consensus during the constitution-building process, or a newly implemented federal system.&nbsp; Most of these were just excuses for incompetency. Governments were formed and fell based on self-serving negotiations, but they managed to keep the parties afloat, and the citizenry was willing to give them a second, third, or even fourth chance.&nbsp; The RSP will not have this privilege. Nepal has many problems, but its governmental bodies are better institutionalised than when the NC last had a majority. A challenge for RSP now would be fixing broken institutions, not building new ones. A recurring issue during Balendra Shah’s tenure as Kathmandu’s mayor were his <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/politics/2026/01/28/can-nepal-s-viral-mayor-run-the-country" target="_blank">disputes with the bureaucracy</a> that resulted in months of unpaid salary for KMC staff, a lack of collaboration between him and Deputy Mayor Sunita Dangol, and rarely any public appearances.&nbsp; The RSP is inheriting a bureaucracy tainted by deep-seated patronage networks. Sustaining a government requires institutional collaboration and a willingness to work together, not disruption and division.&nbsp; While Nepal has seen the rise of many populist figures in its democratic history, the RSP’s victory based on Balendra Shah’s fame is new. Populism is usually harmful for a democracy because it punishes dissent, turns criticism into betrayal, and fuels hyper-nationalism, authoritarianism, and polarisation. A trend of punishing criticism is already visible on online spaces. Without an effective parliamentary opposition, the responsibility for democratic accountability will fall on the media and civil society. If the trend of intolerance to criticism deepens, Nepal risks sliding toward a majoritarian politics where popularity replaces accountability. Time and again, the Nepali people have given opportunities to parties that promise change, only to face disappointment. Nepal’s political history shows that majority governments fail not because they lack seats, but because they lack institutions.&nbsp; The electoral earthquake Nepal just witnessed could bring sweeping reforms or drown the country’s fragile democracy. If RSP hopes to succeed where others failed, it must build a party that outlives its founders. Suvexa Pradhan Tuladhar is an Early Career Policy Research Fellow at the Nepal Institute for Policy Research (NIPoRe).

Will it be different this time in Nepal?

Deadly floods two years ago along the southern fringes of Kathmandu Valley killed 200 people. Climate change was blamed, but the destruction was magnified by quarries and sand mining owned by local politicians and crony contractors. Disaster mitigation and environmental risk was not a priority for any of the political parties that ran and won Nepal’s election last week. Although the RSP has a supermajority, rural municipalities that grant mining contracts are still ruled by the established parties that supply aggregates and sand to feed &nbsp;Kathmandu’s construction boom. Here in Lele Valley, residents are worried about another monsoon season that will start in June and fear more floods bringing unmanaged gravel from quarries down the Nallu River.&nbsp; The house of Sanumaya Nagarkoti, 65, and ten neighbours were washed away by the flood on the night of 28 September 2024. She and her husband petitioned the ward and municipal council to remove the crushers but no one listened. The slopes above are scarred by landslides from two years ago, and the banks of the river are strewn with bounders the size of cars that were brought down. “We live in constant fear of landslides,” says Chakra Nagarkoti, “the heavy crusher machinery and tipper trucks also constantly shake the house.”&nbsp; Google Earth images show that 24.6 hectares of mountain flanks have been excavated since 2010, and despite the disaster no lessons have been learnt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090348_bdce7f17500eadac0ce0814c32c2b4190d01325976fd4d29db9985148459c0bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260319090348_bdce7f17500eadac0ce0814c32c2b4190d01325976fd4d29db9985148459c0bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="907" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>Photo: GOOGLE EARTH</figcaption> </figure>  The RSP might have got a near two-thirds majority in Parliament but decision-making at the community level is controlled by politicians in cahoots with contractors.&nbsp; Along the Mahadev Khola, the Department of Mines cancelled excavation permits for crushers citing flood and landslide risk. Yet there are still 21 contractors mining stones and sand.&nbsp; Nearby Godavari Municipality also instructed operators who had not renewed permits to close down. No action was taken. One of them is Vinayak Multipurpose which delivers aggregate and stones for United Cement. Local ward chair Milan Silwal, has a stake in Vinayak and locals accuse him of taking the side of industry.&nbsp; Another slope is being gouged out near Mahadev Khola, and comparing satellite imagery from 2010 shows that the scar on the mountain is now five times bigger.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090348_21a8f7f7f9d6cc784c35719da737b20283f934bbe16c9de971d91bf01012499a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260319090348_21a8f7f7f9d6cc784c35719da737b20283f934bbe16c9de971d91bf01012499a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>United Cement operating near Mahadev Khola. Photo: ARCHANA DARJI</figcaption> </figure>  Nearby stands the lone house of 55-year-old Sabina Tamang, who lives with her husband and daughter. Due to the sound of the stone-breakers, they cannot hear each other speak. “Last year, a landslide destroyed our cowshed and latrine,” she says. “Next it is going to be our home.”&nbsp; DRY SPRINGS Lele gets its water from several perennial springs which have gone dry in recent years. One of them is near where the cement factory quarries limestone. “We hardly get any water, and the little that does flow is murky and red,” says local resident Rajesh Shrestha. A parliamentary committee directive ordered excavation to stop 15 years ago after a similar flood to the one in 2024.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090352_af7da754299116578cc1dd91d5318ec337b69e74b0676599260b7c57c6ec6fd7.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260319090352_af7da754299116578cc1dd91d5318ec337b69e74b0676599260b7c57c6ec6fd7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="494" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>Lele over the years. Photo: GOOGLE EARTH</figcaption> </figure>  United Cement’s manager Hari Upreti says his company has fulfilled all requirements and has permission to mine 15 hectares of its own property and 4 hectares of government land. “We have the Department of Mines permit which is valid till 2036 and extract 1,600 tons of limestone every day,” says Upreti. “The local community knew about the mining and if there is a problem with springs going dry it is not because of us.” Environmental researcher Uttambabu Shrestha, however, says there is a direct correlation between the quarry operation and floods, landslides and dry springs.&nbsp; “Extraction should not be allowed without an environmental impact assessment, and companies must stick to set limits,” he says. Investigation of permits show that there is collusion between local officials and contractors. Godavari-6 Chair Bishnuman Maharjan has investment in two quarries and crusher companies operating along Nallu Khola. A paper trail links Maharjan also to Sagarmatha Stone Crusher and Mankamana Aggregate Industries. IMPUNITY&nbsp; Godavari Municipality published a notice in June 2024, instructing crusher companies to submit environmental reports within two weeks, covering initial examination and impact assessment. It also told them to pay local development fees and clear outstanding dues. The municipality even wrote to the Department of Mines clarifying that it had issued permits to only five out of 27 contractors. Within a month, the Department wrote to the District Administration Office (DAO) and District Police Office instructing them to stop illegal excavation, and sent a copy to the Lalitpur Division Forest Office. The DAO then wrote to Lalitpur Police naming Machindranath Multipurpose as operating illegally and should be shut down. There was no followup. The municipality then issued fines worth Rs 60 million to it and one other company for non-compliance. The companies stalled, disputing the calculations.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090356_6e96403d3c5be4aef4d030974d6d92029a0eb396deafd19c511978dae30dd3d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260319090356_6e96403d3c5be4aef4d030974d6d92029a0eb396deafd19c511978dae30dd3d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="2250" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>Another site of extraction near Mahadev Khola in Godavari. </figcaption> </figure>  Machhindranath Multipurpose operator Kedar Timalsina Shashi denies doing anything wrong, and says the landslides were collateral damage because of the steep terrain. When contacted Godavari Municipality Deputy Mayor Muna Adhikari declined to comment. It has been 10 years since Rajesh Shrestha, Nikesh Shrestha, and others raised their voices against the environmental destruction caused by the construction mafia. An agreement was finally reached two years ago between locals and mining and transport businessmen, stipulating that stone mines must close permanently by mid-2025. The agreement also stated that check dams must be built to manage mining debris, and damaged structures must be restored to their original state. Trees were to be planted at sites where stone mines had operated. But the mines in the catchment are still in operation with 500 tipper trucks working on the site every day, transporting stones and aggregate. Local youth have continued holding sit-in street protests and at Lalitpur DAO.&nbsp; After one sit-in, the mines closed for about a month but they started back up a month later.&nbsp; Birendra Maharjan owns one of the crusher units, and says he follows all environmental protocols. He told us: “You need stones to build, and we must dig to extract stones. Some trees have to be cut, people get employment, and besides, floods and landslides happen across Nepal.” &nbsp;&nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism – Nepal.

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