This is the 61st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. I interrupted my Grade 11 education to go to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-malaysia-nepal-migrant-scam-nexus">Malaysia</a> to work as a security guard. During <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/uproar-over-maoist-war-anniversary-holiday">the Maoist era </a>the environment in my college was not conducive to studies. I stayed on in Malaysia for eight years.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance?wptouch_preview_theme=enabled">Overseas earnings</a> helped me support my family and buy land, and more importantly, to spend on the treatment of my father’s heart condition. Our duty was 12 hours and we were on our feet all day checking in visitors and employees at the gate. Nights were slow and all we did was walk around with our <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-street-smart-dogs">dogs</a> and check every hour on our radios. Sometimes, the boys also sang <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-folk-songs-move-beyond-love-and-loss">dohori </a>over the radio as we passed the long nights.&nbsp; One memorable part of my security job was that we were each assigned a dog, and were also evaluated on how well we trained them. My dog’s name was Amy and I grew very fond of her over the years. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/must-love-dogs?fbclid=IwAR1WFHDdcYJoe29GVP03I9ojdftlNqmYiGU5RDfk9ytBxNo8oC35kutToy8_aem_AeAxkQFtD1IKZSXPX6eijBytfPIihI2PVfhxDqyfbN3ZlnybtV5e82Va9-Or_rSCXbk">Must love dogs</a>, Eliza Sthapit During drills, we wore protective clothes that prevented us from getting hurt if we were bitten, and as a lightweight, I was easily attacked and trampled. But I was sent home unexpectedly because I had encouraged new <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-overseas-workers-who-remain-behind">Nepali workers </a>to demand <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-welcomes-qatar-labour-reform">higher wages</a> since they were paid less than me for similar work. That felt unfair, but no one wants a foreign rabble rouser.&nbsp; For some time after being sent back abruptly, I felt bad because I was not mentally prepared to come home. I had planned to stay for another two years, and had made earning plans accordingly.&nbsp; For a year in Nepal, I studied for the EPS which was started in 2008. Going to Korea had not picked up strongly then. I saw my friends and villagers <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-wait-over-nepalis-return-to-korea">migrating to Korea</a> one by one, and decided to give it a try. In Korean language class, the teacher used to say “Anyhow कोरिया जौँ”, and all we wanted to do was get to Korea. We had to study hard and I gave it my all. I used to write the Korean names for every object so it was etched in my memory. Whether it was a phone or bucket or plate, it would have the Korean word for it and my walls and ceiling were full of Korean words. I passed.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal?amp=1">Bringing Korea’s prosperity to Nepal</a> My migration to Korea was a bit dramatic. It was two days after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake">the earthquake</a>, and we were at the EPS office in Gwarko for our documents and caps and tshirts. I did not get to properly shop for Korea. Even though I was unprepared for the trip, the frequent aftershocks and the closeness of death made me desperate to leave. I was relieved to get on the plane and escape. In Korea, I grew capsicum. The work was easy, except for a couple of months. Night duty as a security guard in Malaysia made it difficult to pass time, but in Korea, I was working around the clock and lost track of the hours. My wife and I studied in the same <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/languages-are-both-software-and-hardware">language school</a> in Nepal. She was assigned to a strawberry farm. We got married in Nepal a few years later, and wanted to work together.&nbsp; I found a new job in a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/pigs-fly-and-fish-climb-trees">pig farm</a>, where I asked my employer about the possibility of bringing my wife to the same company and he said that if he was happy with my work, he would hire her.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040312_24a4996cf7e2654637b707a52e1fe3e17932fb44991587b04a736b0328e43404.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250321040312_24a4996cf7e2654637b707a52e1fe3e17932fb44991587b04a736b0328e43404" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="The meat of the story NT"> </figure>  That was enough incentive for me to work extra hard and I picked things up fast which made my employer happy. That’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">how it is overseas</a>: things are easier if you win the confidence of your employer. They eventually hired my wife, with whom I worked together for two-and-a-half years. My employer increasingly relied on me while also investing heavily in our knowledge and growth.&nbsp; Every morning, he used to teach us about pig farming for an hour or two, which has been invaluable for us till today, covering a range of topics including raising piglets, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-is-there-vaccine-hesitancy-in-nepal">vaccination</a>, artificial insemination and how to breed them on rotation. He was full of good life advice, too, including for our post-return plans. In 2020, we decided to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what">come back to Nepal</a>. By this point, I felt like I had learnt everything that I needed to know about pig farming. My wife and I wanted to run a pig farm in Nepal on a rotational system, something that is not practiced widely here which puts <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/farm-subsidies-money-down-the-drain">farmers at a financial disadvantage</a>. We returned to Nepal during<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-goes-into-lockdown-for-a-week"> the early stages of Covid</a>. It is strange how I left during an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/earthquake-vacates-villages-in-nepal">earthquake</a> and returned five years later to another crisis. After eight months we started our Unnati Bangur Hamro Bangur Farm in Panauti. Just as things were picking up, we had to go through a devastating loss when the African swine fever hit Nepal. Back then, I was spending all my time in the hospital because my newborn had a heart condition, and four months after his birth, he passed.&nbsp; There was African swine flu detected in my farm, after which we had to shut it down for almost a year. These multiple losses took my wife and me to a dark place for months, before we had to gather ourselves up and restart work. Thankfully, things are going better now. This is the nature of business, you need to exercise patience. Things are not constant. Profit, loss. Supply, demand.&nbsp; Rates of meat have gone up now because many farmers exited the market after the swine fever. We were patient, and now get significantly better rates which has helped us recover. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/meat-money-and-the-middle-class">Meat, money, and the middle class</a> The meat available in regular meat shops is very different from what we offer because our pigs are fed quality feed, not waste, and are given proper vaccinations. We have good buyers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal?amp=1">Hankook Meat Shop run by fellow Korean returnees</a> who look for quality produce.&nbsp; The challenge of working in Nepal is that there is no proper differentiation by quality of meat, and no traceability to the farms producing the meat which makes farmers less accountable for consumers’ health. It harms those &nbsp;practicing ethical farming. Manufacturing is more popular in Korea among Nepali EPS workers, but it is work in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/aid-rarely-aids-agriculture-in-nepal">the agriculture sector </a>that is more useful after return. I brought most of my equipment from Korea along with me.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/social-remittance">Social remittance</a>, Upasana Khadka&nbsp; When we returned for good, our suitcases had no personal items like chocolates or electronics, they were full of farming equipment like vaccine guns and pig tooth nippers. &nbsp; Even now, I tell my friends in Korea to bring me farm equipment when they come home on breaks, and that I will buy them the usual blankets and chocolates to gift to their families in Nepal itself. &nbsp;&nbsp;

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The meat of the story

The Korea Employment Permit Scheme (<a href="https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/684731537420880821/pdf/130020-P156586-Korea-report-F-singles-web.pdf">EPS</a>) is one of the most sought-after bilateral labour mobility programs for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">Nepali workers</a>.&nbsp;
Many prospective workers prepare hard for the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/ielts-on-screen">language tests </a>like their “life depended on it” or “like studying for the civil service exam”. EPS is not just <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/Still-silently-crying,1060">survival migration</a>, but one that is financially rewarding.
One worker said migrants <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work">referred</a> to the Korean Dream as दुई गुणा अन्ठाउन्न — referring to the Rs200,000 monthly salary over a 58-month period, a transformative amount.&nbsp;
“Anyhow, कोरिया जौँ,” was a popular slogan while cramming for the language exams (Read Diaspora Diaries, across). South Korea has also benefited from foreign workers, and the rapidly aging nation will continue to rely on expanding its foreign worker intake to offset its <a href="https://www.piie.com/publications/working-papers/2024/migration-or-stagnation-aging-and-economic-growth-korea-today">demographic drag</a>.
A recent entrepreneurship <a href="https://www.facebook.com/share/p/15VemgEV6W/">initiative</a> targeting current and former <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepal-s-migrant-workers">Nepali migrants </a>in Korea funded by <a href="https://www.koica.go.kr/sites/nepal_en/index.do">KOICA</a> and implemented by the group <a href="https://en.thebridgeint.com/en/">Bridge International</a>, demonstrates how the Returnee Innovator for Nepal (RIN) program can be made even more rewarding by maximising not just financial, but also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/not-just-financial-but-social-remittances">social remittances</a>.
The program is unique because the support begins not once workers arrive in Nepal, but in Korea itself. Selected candidates attend classes on basic <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepali-entrepreneur-turns-trash-into-cash">entrepreneurship</a> while in Korea and to work on their<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/hurdles-come-with-the-terrain-in-nepal-s-fashion-industry"> business ideas </a>which they can further 'localise' once back in Nepal.
They also get linked to mentors from Korea-based companies from their area of interest to brainstorm, refine ideas, and get practical real-world guidance. In some cases, these can grow into business ties.
Santosh Timalsina runs a successful coffee machine repair business Jumli Cafe in Pokhara, and was connected by Bridge International with a Korea-based coffee entrepreneur who trained him. Even though his EPS jobs entailed making golf balls or car parts, he took advantage of whatever free time he had to prepare for return by taking up coffee machine repair.&nbsp;
“Even now I rely on my Korean trainer for guidance and to access spare parts that are not available in Nepal,” says Timalsina.
CEO of Bridge International Jinsol Hwang says the next cohorts will also be provided the option of using business plans that Korean entrepreneurs may have for those workers who are unsure about what to invest in once they are back.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-plans-to-reintegrate-returning-workers">returnee program</a> is in its early phases, and has just called for the second cohort, but demonstrates that labour mobility programs can be made more impactful. The return stage also merits as much attention, including from host country agencies like KOICA, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-moves-from-aid-to-enterprise">social enterprises </a>and even employers.&nbsp;
Jinsol says migration was part of Korea’s growth story in the 1970s with workers headed to West Germany as miners and nurses and to the Middle East as construction workers. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-remittance-villages">remittances </a>and skills acquired abroad were critical in Korea's transformation.
The role of returnees as entrepreneurs in creating jobs and contributing to the economy was a way to level the playing field. It provided access to capital, networks and skills they may not have otherwise had.
The second winning team at the recent Returnee Innovators Showcase of the RIN program was Hankook Meat Mart. It is a profitable effort by three Korea returnees to provide high quality meat products that they source from another Korean returnee who runs a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/pigs-fly-and-fish-climb-trees">pig farm</a>.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal">Bringing Korea’s prosperity to Nepal</a>
The approach is to build a supply chain using high quality <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/meat-money-and-the-middle-class">meat production</a>, and diversifying to small complementary businesses such as a tiny but profitable Korean restaurant, and small factories making Kimchi and rice-cakes.&nbsp;
Dil Bahadur Tamang from Hankook successfully pitched his business, saying programs like RIN are useful to learn formal business management practices, for networking and exposure. The financial award it won was helpful for business expansion as it launches a second branch.&nbsp;
“Those of us who go to work in Korea are not from a business background, so the switch from an employee to becoming self-employed is difficult especially in a country like ours,” Tamang says. “Start-up failure rates are high globally, if we don’t understand the market and launch businesses without proper preparation, the chances of failure will be high and we lose our hard-earned money.”
There are returnees who rush to businesses and subsequently fail. In the <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">Diaspora Diaries series</a> in this newspaper, one consistent advice, based on their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/finding-a-niche-in-nepal">own failures</a> in some cases, has always been to take time just to understand Nepal's market before rushing into a business even if it is a sector they have years of overseas experience in.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">Overseas job-seeker now creates jobs in Nepal</a>, Mahesh Sah
The decision ‘to return to Nepal or remain overseas’ for current migrants is perhaps tougher than the decision youth face to ‘migrate or stay in Nepal’. Migrants with the intention to return, whether by choice as they have stayed overseas enough, or because their contracts are ending, need more support with developing their plans back home.&nbsp;
This includes workers from the Middle East and Malaysia who inevitably return, not just EPS workers from Korea. In the Philippines, the Technical Education and Skills Development (<a href="https://www.tesda.gov.ph/">TESDA</a>), offers an <a href="https://e-tesda.gov.ph/course/index.php?categoryid=467">online</a> self-based business entrepreneurship program targeting current overseas Filipinos.&nbsp;
Such resources would also be useful for<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times"> Nepali migrants</a> who are trying to decide whether to return and what to do after returning. &nbsp;
Upasana Khadka heads <a href="https://www.migration-lab.com/">Migration Lab</a>, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

Upasana Khadka

Social remittance

This is the 60th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. <h2>Dil Bahadur Tamang</h2> I come from a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-class-divide-widens">middle-class family</a>, and my father did all he could to make sure we had a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality">proper education</a>. I really wanted to be an engineer, but was not that good in studies and my father could not afford to pay for college. So I joined Korean language classes instead. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-wait-over-nepalis-return-to-korea">In Korea</a>, I was blown away by the infrastructure and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/development-destruction-yt3t1yhu">development</a>. But once I entered my company premises, it was a different story. It was a smelly place with piles of trash.&nbsp; This was not the standard ‘foreign company’ of my imagination. I had been placed with a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/everest-garbage-caravan">plastic recycling</a> company, and worked three years there before it went bankrupt. I switched to a welding company. Korea taught me the value of work and time, and more importantly, just how much of a difference being within a system can make. &nbsp; <h2>Prabin Shrestha</h2> I randomly came across an acquaintance who was a Korea returnee and jokingly told him that I also wanted to go. He talked about a new Government-to-Government (G2G) scheme called EPS, and told me I should give it a shot. It would be cheaper and more rewarding, but I had to pass a language test. My first <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work">job in Korea</a> was drying animal leather, but a year later I moved to a plastic company before returning to Nepal to start my own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/biodegradable-plastic-launched-in-nepal">plastic manufacturing </a>venture with Shahadev.&nbsp; Despite having skills and experience, I quickly realised that it was difficult to remain competitive with 18 hours of daily power cuts. We were afraid of losing our <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-retail-to-selling-chiya?fbclid=IwAR3lAnpyoOKTvyb9ekXulEcPzzZCfBmLYLZq950Bv6ElccPHVPM2175ABeI">hard earned money</a>.&nbsp; So Shahadev and I decided to remigrate and joined our previous company in Korea. This time, the thought of “नेपाल गएर के गर्ने?” kept gnawing at me. The skills and experience I acquired in Korea were not usable back home, where my heart was. &nbsp; I used to go to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/not-easy-for-nepal-to-buffalo-meat-to-china">meat</a> shop nearby, where the shopkeeper, an elderly woman, was nice to me. We used to chat, and I wondered if I could start something similar in Nepal: a well-organised meat shop.&nbsp; My friend and I started <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-qatar-job-mirage">applying for jobs</a> in the meat sector. We wanted to work at a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/pigs-fly-and-fish-climb-trees">pig farm</a>, but got jobs in a meat processing plant. <h2>Shahadev Gurung</h2> We were the first lot that went to Korea under the EPS scheme. Korea had a good image in our community, a place where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/let-s-listen-to-nepal-s-young-changemakers">young Nepalis</a> could make something of themselves.&nbsp; Prabin and I went on the same flight, we worked in the same plastic company, and changed to the same meat processing company. We thought it would be easy, and would be simply cutting meat like we did back home. But there everything had to be cut just right. It was a new experience and initially felt complicated. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/meat-money-and-the-middle-class">Meat, money, and the middle class</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040328_c7da4ee896e7fb140795e60e9b1b60a7e13446d9cd2914ed980071c4d5addcce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250321040328_c7da4ee896e7fb140795e60e9b1b60a7e13446d9cd2914ed980071c4d5addcce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Bringing Korea's prosperity to Nepal NT"> <figcaption>BACK HOME: (Left to right) Dil Bahadur Tamang making a pitch at the RIN program. Prabin Shrestha at his shop in Nepal. Sahadev Gurung cutting meat surgically.</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Prabin Shrestha</h2> Our employer told us that he had started with nothing, and made a lot of money selling meat. With just a knife and focus on hygiene, you can do a lot if you put your mind to it, he used to tell us.&nbsp; It was like surgery. Every part mattered. Knowing that these skills could be an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">investment back home</a>, we were keen to learn everything about cutting meat perfectly.&nbsp; After work, we used to take home the bones to assemble a skeleton so we could learn about all the parts. We would memorise the names and familiarise ourselves with the right angle of the knife to slice them with. We were so obsessed we learnt in 2.5 months what took others six months. Our employer gave us raises. <h2>Dil Bahadur Tamang</h2> After we <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/returning-to-nepal-has-its-rewards">returned to Nepal</a>, we started Hankook Meat Mart. I have known my co-founder Prabin Shrestha for 25 years, he is like family to me. We studied together, went to Korea together. Even before we left Nepal, we knew that we would one day run a business together. Returning from Korea, we studied the market for months before launching the business, visiting meat shops and talking to people.&nbsp; We learnt that oversupply of meat reduced the price and put quality farmers at a disadvantage. Even when we found cheaper suppliers, we set a floor price for our meat suppliers who were picked based on whether they fed the pigs proper feed and not waste, and if the animals were 6-8 months old.&nbsp; We also realised that pork meat parts are not separated but mashed together. Hygiene and quality also fluctuated. Consumers get good meat one day and the next day the same shop sold meat that was difficult even to chew.&nbsp; Imported meat was available, but costly. Our niche was going to be quality, premium meat.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040328_90757fa0c57e4e8254e764f556f528d382a0b4e8cb75caa3fe0a2cb52c8e77ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250321040328_90757fa0c57e4e8254e764f556f528d382a0b4e8cb75caa3fe0a2cb52c8e77ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Bringing Korea's prosperity to Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Hankook Meat Mart stood second in the Returnee Innovators Showcase that was organised by The Bridge International and funded by KOICA.</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Shahadev Gurung</h2> The three of us work well together even after all these years. There is a strong trust between us. Each of us individually carry out our duties well. That I think is what has worked for us to help us endure this long partnership. The skills we learnt in Korea have stayed with us, and we are still reaping the benefits. Current EPS workers engaged in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/aid-rarely-aids-agriculture-in-nepal">agriculture sector </a>can benefit here as the skills can be used, but you have to be willing to work hard in Nepal just like you do <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/grass-is-greener-overseas-for-nepals-doctors">overseas</a>.&nbsp; You cannot slow down just because you are in Nepal. It is also helpful to think about your return while overseas, that makes transitioning to Nepal much easier. <h2>Prabin Shrestha</h2> Korea for me was like a university where I learnt a lot. When I came home, my suitcase was full of knives, aprons for meat processing.&nbsp; There are so many things that we can learn <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas">overseas</a>, small things that would make our lives easier here. All I learnt was to cut meat. But we have created jobs for 30-40 people, while being close to family. We don’t have to dream very big. I enjoy working in Nepal. I saw many cottage industries that started small in Korea that I found inspiring so we bring machines from Korea and run shops that &nbsp;make rice cakes and kimchi. We are opening a new branch, and a small Korean restaurant. My former boss who visited us in Nepal is thrilled with our progress and even gifted us a meat slicer. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">Overseas job-seeker now creates jobs in Nepal</a>, Mahesh Sah Working in Nepal is not always easy, of course, the trick is to try to find happiness even in those tough moments. That makes life easier. This kind of hustle can scare some people and dissuade many but we have to build the appetite for it because one day, these experiences will become part of our story, our journey. &nbsp;

Bringing Korea’s prosperity to Nepal

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible While premium beauty product outlets were closing during the Covid-19 pandemic, two young women gambled on setting up a new skin and haircare brand with natural ingredients mostly sourced from Nepal and suited for the Nepali complexion. Arushree Sharma Khatiwada and Megha Agarwal were batchmates in school before they left for studies abroad, returning to set up Avani Nepal after year-long rigorous research into ayurveda-based cosmetic products. Avani in Sanskrit means ‘earth’, and as the name suggests it is committed to bringing all natural, pure and authentic range of beauty solutions.&nbsp; “We found a gap in the Nepali market demand for cosmetics, which is why we decided on a brand sourced from all-natural Himalayan herbs that are not used or explored properly,” says co-founder Khatiwada.&nbsp; Nepal is a treasure trove for medicinal plants and those with therapeutic properties. After all, legend has it that Hanuman flew right across the subcontinent from Sri Lanka to the Himalaya to find a rare medicinal plant to save the life of Lord Ram, who was wounded in battle. When he could not find the specific plant, he tore off a whole mountain and brought it down. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Looking good by doing good</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="2012" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Medicinal plants in Nepal range from yarsagumba to jatamasi and 500 other species traditionally used in the Ayurveda as well as now in the wellness industry. Avani is also trying to experiment hibiscus, Himalayan honey and other plants to eventually launch an export drive. Running a business in Nepal is no easy task, especially for small scale locally crafted products but in a few years, Avani has ammased loyal customer base and have many repeat customers. “While it was tricky initially, we were determined to launch our products with the best quality ingredients and in an affordable price range,” says Khatiwada. Following a worldwide trend and emulating the method used by Korean cosmetic brands, Avani has deployed celebrities and influencers to increase its outreach through tikTok , Facebook and YouTube. &nbsp;Actresses Barsha Shiwakoti and Shilpa Maskey and makeup artists like Lemi have reviewed their products favourably. Sutainability is a big part of the brand, and Avani uses glass bottles, cardboard boxes, paper bags for all its products. Plastic use is cut to a minimum, and where used is recycled.&nbsp; “Many people think that sustainable brands are expensive, we want to bust that myth,” Khatiwada told us. “We focus on being eco-friendly using ethically sourced materials that are paraben, silicon, and cruelty free.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/proud-to-wear-dolpo">Proud to wear DOLPO</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49" data-rendition-name="original" width="1048" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Avani has expanded its business to get a toehold in Nepal’s tourism and wellness industry, and the products are carried by spas in leading hotels and resorts in Kathmandu and Pokhara such as the Terraces, Marriott, and Kavya resort, and is in talk with the Hideaway Resort in Pokhara.&nbsp; The skin and haircare brand that initially started with 10 products has since expanded its line to 60 with goods placed in more than 100 stores across Kathmandu. Plans are in the works to expand to India, China and in Japan partnering with Okada. Avani Nepal’s founders say that they support empowerment through employment and training opportunities for women at the company. Khatiwada herself has been engaged with organisations such as Nepal Women Chamber of Commerce, and Nepal Youth Entrepreneur Forum. Additional support from the government such as the provision of lower excise duties has helped but guidance for export and other business regulations is as crucial. Such an environment would also foster opportunities for the youth who are otherwise moving away for jobs or study abroad. “While everyone is trying to go abroad, opportunities can be created here in Nepal itself, with adequate support from the government,” says Khatiwada. “In the meantime, we are eyeing for long term benefits. We are trying to create a legacy for cosmetic brands in Nepal.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/java-in-the-himalaya-y1ilc21h">Java in the Himalaya</a>, Vishad Raj Onta

Redefining the criteria for beauty

- High Court employee Amrita KC fulfilled her duties as a polling officer in Nepalganj on election day, with her six-month-old daughter held in her arms.&nbsp; - The same morning in Kathmandu-1, RSP candidate Ranju Neupane appeared at the polling station to cast her vote with her 10-day-old baby. The next day, she became the first candidate declared a winner by the Election Commission. Her party won a supermajority and will now be tasked with reforms in governance, development, the economy, and service delivery. At least four of the winning RSP candidates are doctors, and the party must fulfil its campaign promise of improving healthcare access across Nepal. Among the lowest-ranking region for healthcare indicators in Nepal is Madhes Province. Across the districts of Madhes and Karnali, where maternal and neonatal health outcomes remain poorer than in the rest of the nation, local governments in collaboration with non-profits, have financed and facilitated the operation of birthing centres where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-haemorrhaging-nurses">nurses are lifelines</a> for pregnant women, new mothers, and newborn babies.&nbsp; At the Inarwari birthing centre in Rautahat district, nurse midwife Manisha Kushwaha gently applies ultrasound gel on the abdomen of 28-year-old Robina Khatun who is having a sonogram in the first trimester.&nbsp; Kushwaha glides the transducer over Khatun’s belly before pronouncing her baby healthy. She will later send the ultrasound machine for the municipality’s monthly mobile sonogram program in a neighbouring village.&nbsp; Ministry of Health and Population guidelines recommend that pregnant people make eight antenatal care (ANC) visits to health posts before their delivery date. Expecting mothers are also provided Rs800 for the eight visits and travel costs according to geographical region. In Baudhimai, the local government provides more incentives: 10 eggs for non-vegetarian and protein powder for vegetarian mothers-to-be per visit. The municipality also provides free ambulance service for pregnant women, and conducts a monthly mobile sonogram program across all communities.&nbsp; The initiatives of local governments, health officials, non-profits, and volunteers have meant that institutional deliveries here have increased drastically. In Rautahat, institutional deliveries have increased from 50% to 68% in four years, according to figures from the non-profit One Heart Worldwide that works to improve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-lagging-in-safe-motherhood">maternal and neonatal health</a> outcomes arcoss Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1034" height="650" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  “Home deliveries have completely stopped in Inarwari, and women are increasingly accessing ante-natal and post-natal care, as well as family planning measures,” says Manisha Kushwaha. “Women and families here are now more aware of maternal and neonatal healthcare.” One of them is Noor Jahan Khatun, who had her first baby at home and gave birth to her second child at the local birthing centre despite wanting another home birth. When the due date for her third child came around, she walked to the health post herself.&nbsp; “I realised it is much better to give birth at the hospital,” Noor, who is pregnant with her fourth child, told us. “They have everything we need in case of complications.” The nursing staff at the birthing centre, as well as other centres in the municipality also periodically review their training in the birthing simulation room set up on the premises of the Inarwari birthing centre so that they retain their training and continue to hone their skills. Over in Sarlahi’s Sundarpur in Chakraghatta Rural Municipality, a state-of-the-art birthing centre now stands adjacent to the derelict old structure from which nurses previously had to provide services.&nbsp; The new and improved maternity ward was built last year with Rs2.4 million from the municipality and a Rs2 million from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">One Heart Worldwide</a> under a cost-sharing public-private partnership formula.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Sundarpur birthing centre in Sarlahi built through the collaboration of the local government and One Heart Worldwide.</figcaption> </figure>  Chief nurse Sunita Rai has been stationed here for the last six years, and looks at the old building. “I remember when we had to deliver babies while ankle-deep in flood water during monsoon,” recalls Rai. “This new facility and the equipment have improved service.”&nbsp; Since the start of the fiscal year, the six-nurse team at Sundarpur has delivered more than 140 babies. One day last month, a national holiday, the centre was quieter than usual, with just two women waiting for delivery.&nbsp; But fewer-than-usual patients does not mean there is no work to be done. In the afternoon, nurses make the rounds of the community to conduct post-natal care visits, and to keep track of how the new mothers and babies in the village are doing. This is important because neonatal mortality of babies within the first month of birth is still high. “For the people in this village we are both the doctor and the nurse,” Rai says matter-of-factly as she walks towards the village to see a new mother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027" data-rendition-name="original" width="790" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  In Sarlahi's Laxmipur Kodraha, Kanchan Rai makes her own rounds, calling out to several young children playing in the pale afternoon sun. Rai has been stationed in Laxmipur for 10 years and delivered most of those children playing outside herself. A beloved member of the community, Rai is greeted by several women and invited in for tea and snacks as she walks by. The Laxmipur birthing centre has seen major renovations to make it more spacious, better equipped, and hygienic. Mothers now have more privacy, especially from men who in the past would simply barge in wanting to know which woman from the village was about to give birth.&nbsp; “We deliver 400 babies on average every year,” Rai says. “There have been zero home births in this village for the last five years, and women are increasingly accessing maternal healthcare and family planning services.” Institutional deliveries in Sarlahi have gone up from 37% to 71% over the past five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="359" height="329" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Pregnant women who require C-sections, or those who experience complications during pregnancies, are referred to the nearest provincial hospitals in Gaur or Malangwa. “Community-based awareness programs about going for hospital visits have helped reduce home deliveries, and counselling sessions provided to new mothers at provincial hospitals have contributed to better maternal and neonatal health outcomes,” says Sachin Yadav, obstetrician-gynaecologist at Malangwa Provincial Hospital. SAFE MOTHERHOOD Newborns with birth asphyxia, tachycardia, meconium aspiration syndrome and other complications are admitted to the special newborn care unit at the Gaur Provincial Hospital. But Apsana Khatun, chief nurse at the hospital’s maternal and neonatal unit says: “We have not been able to provide neo-natal care as effectively because we do not have an NICU.”&nbsp; Provincial hospitals provide life-saving services, but remain underfunded and in need of life-saving equipment. At the Gaur Hospital, Rukmini Kumari Shah gently rocks her three-day-old son, who was admitted to the special newborn care unit due to birth asphyxia and dehydration.&nbsp; “I have not even been able to think of a name for him,” says the 25-year-old. “My other two children were born normal but I worry for this one.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Gaur Provincial Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  This is where the election pledge of the RSP will be tested. Will the new government cut through the bureaucracy, corruption and resource constraints to provide life-saving services to mothers and babies in places like Rautahat and Sarlahi? There has been no maternal mortality at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital for the last two years, but the hospital has had neonatal deaths. “We need more spacious waiting areas and training for maternal and neonatal healthcare workers,” says Sachin Yadav. “Without that we are unable to serve our patients and have to send them to Kathmandu or Birganj.” In Baudhimai village, patient numbers have increased by 140% in the last three years, but the federal government slashed the health budget by 60%. The government across three levels is supposed to provide 98 types of essential medicine free of cost at primary healthcare centres, but the federal and provincial governments often fail to make their share of the drugs available.&nbsp; “Federal and especially provincial governments have been irresponsible when it comes to investing in local healthcare,” says Baudhimai mayor Pradeep Kumar Yadav. Health workers and institutions continue to work without being paid or funded when the budget remains frozen for months at a time. “It does not matter to a patient when the fiscal year begins,” says Sachin Yadav at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital. “Maternal deaths do not wait for the budget to be released.” And despite budget constraints, political posturing still continues. At local levels, officials build multiple birthing centres in each ward when one would suffice, and these buildings remain empty.&nbsp; Politics also plays a significant role in whether or not local officials are willing to agree when health officials try to refer pregnancy-related complications to better-equipped facilities. And while services have improved due to the efforts of dedicated healthcare officials, they are transferred from one place to another at the whim of governments that come and go, which means staff turnover in these institutions is very high, affecting consistent service delivery. &nbsp; Yadav has been at Malangwa for three years— during which yearly institutional deliveries have gone from 2,000 to 3,200 and C-section births have gone from 150 to 700. He had just begun to hit his stride at the hospital when he received transfer letters to another hospital.&nbsp; So far, he has managed to hold on to his position in Malangwa, but he does not know how long he will be able to delay the transfer. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Tackling patriarchy</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09" data-rendition-name="original" width="1850" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> </figure>  Nepal has made dramatic progress in reducing the maternal mortality rate (MMR) from 539 per 100,000 births to 142 over the past 30 years. But that is the national average. MMR is still high in parts of Nepal where access to healthcare and adoption of health services are not as extensive. One reason is that despite birthing centres and awareness of pre- and post-natal healthcare, s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-slaughter-of-our-daughters">ocio-cultural norms in a patriarchal society</a> also mean that female literacy remains low, and the rate of underage marriage is high.&nbsp; Rautahat has the lowest literacy rate in Nepal, and the lowest female literacy rate. This has a direct correlation with its its fertility and maternal mortality rates. Gaur Hospital continues to see maternal and intrauterine fetal death (IUFD) deaths due to a lack of ANC visits by patients. In the absence of education and information, socio-cultural misconceptions still persist. Women refuse to take essential pre-natal medication like folic acid because they think it will affect their babies’ complexion, and do not eat enough fruits because they believe it will cause fetal pneumonia.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856" data-rendition-name="original" width="377" height="367" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Women are also expected to get through their pregnancies without going for health check ups in keeping with the tradition of their mothers and mothers-in-law enduring pregnancy and childbirth at home without access to healthcare. Maternal and neonatal health outcomes are also affected by child marriage, as well as the patriarchy-enforced preference of a male child in the family.&nbsp; At Gaur Provincial Hospital, 25-year-old Asha Kumari stands with her hands braced against the hospital bed as she is gripped by a contraction. Her eldest child is already 12, and she is at the hospital to have her fifth baby.&nbsp; “She had already had two children by the time she was 18,” explains her mother, who is here with Asha’s mother-in-law. &nbsp; Officials worry that reporting instances of child marriage might mean that women no longer trust health workers and hospitals, and stop accessing healthcare altogether. They insist that investment in maternal health needs to be accompanied by socio-cultural interventions. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FtVA--CRk3nM%3Fsi%3DJtFs6cwqOhJua9NI&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>

Motherhood in the Madhes

Nepal’s new political wave has been described in many ways: a generational shift, a technocratic shift, a shift in ideas, and a shift in political behaviour. Young leaders now sit in Parliament, many with international education and policy experience.
But amid this excitement, a quieter truth risks getting lost: this political transformation is also the ascent of people who, until recently, were the grassroots themselves.
For the first time, many of the people now sitting in government are not distant elites. They are people I have marched with, argued with, worked with, and been inspired by for more than a decade.
They are people who once stood ankle‑deep in floodwaters, not in front of press conferences. As optimism rises around the new government, we must not forget that the climate crisis has not slowed down. 
The monsoon is at our doorstep again. And if the disasters from previous years taught us anything, it is that climate impacts do not wait for political transitions. And our mountains and rivers do not care who sits in Singha Darbar.
What is different this time is who holds power.
During the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair" target="_blank">September 2024 floods in Kathmandu</a>, the first responders were not the state or development machinery. It was ordinary young people. A loosely formed WhatsApp network coordinated everything from dispatching mountain bikers to landslide‑stranded areas, to pooling relief supplies, to delivering materials to army bases for airlifting. These were citizens acting out of necessity, not mandate.
Many from that very network are now part of the government. As I have argued before in Nepali Times, top‑down climate responses in Nepal have always been too little, too late, and too disconnected from lived experience. The only proven path is bottom‑up, community-led adaptation where those who face the risks daily shape the solutions. 
International research backs this: community-based adaptation has been central to success stories from Bangladesh’s cyclone shelters to Vietnam’s mangrove restoration to the Philippines’ barangay disaster committees. The world has repeatedly learned that resilience grows from the ground up, not the top down.
RARE MOMENT
Nepal now has a rare political moment where people with lived experience of crisis sit in positions of authority. The real test is whether this lived experience becomes policy and immediate action.
The expectation should not be that these new leaders deliver because of their degrees. It should be because they remember where they come from and use their privilege to strengthen and fund local institutions, networks and people who kept this country functioning long before governments did.
The monsoon that starts in June will test the government’s commitment to governing from the bottom up. Will these new leaders govern the way they once volunteered — listening first, acting fast, improvising where needed, and involving those closest to the danger? Or will the weight of the state push them back toward the familiar comfort of top‑down plans and consultant reports?
The challenges are complex. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu" target="_blank">Climate change is driving displacement</a>, deepening poverty, and exacerbating gendered vulnerabilities. Climate adaptation, therefore, needs cross-sectoral solutions that understand how these issues intersect.
Long-term transformation is essential. Our major cities like Kathmandu desperately need a future where rivers are protected instead of mined, where an urban forest cools our heat‑trapping city, and where mobility focuses on sustainability, not just shiny EVs. Our mountain villages and terai lowlands deserve a community resilient to climate impacts, with livelihoods protected.
These require years of work. But immediate, life-saving measures cannot wait.
Will the government finally rein in the sand mining and quarrying upstream of the Rosi and Nakkhu Khola? Will someone sit down with the communities on the riverbanks and listen to the early warning signs they’ve learned through pain? Will climate adaptation be prioritised amidst political noise and competing crises?
Or will we find ourselves, yet again, mourning damage that could have been prevented? I have been inspired by many of the individuals now in government — they questioned old hierarchies, challenged worn‑out norms, and believed that things could be done differently. 
But while the faces in Parliament have changed, the bureaucracy has not. Development organisations and civil society groups have not. And those systems are slow: too slow for the speed at which our climate is changing.
So something has to give. And that shift must begin with remembering where this political movement came from: the grassroots. Those now in power must not forget the urgency they once carried in their bones. They cannot forget the feeling of wading into murky floodwater, holding a bag of rice over their heads. 
And it is our responsibility — mine <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/turning-green-policies-into-greenbacks" target="_blank">as a writer</a>, yours as a reader, and ours as citizens — to remind them. The real spark for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/measuring-climate-impact-on-culture-and-heritage" target="_blank">climate action</a> comes from personal stories of loss, fear, survival, and solidarity. And suddenly, those stories are no longer outside the halls of government. They are inside.
The question is no longer whether our leaders understand the stakes. They do. They lived it. The real question, as the skies grow heavier again, is this: What will we do with this moment?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu">Rastra Raj Bhandari</a> is a co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya. He contributes regularly to Nepali Times on climate change.

Soon, the monsoon

Sometimes, we need to take a step back to realise what a tectonic movement Nepali politics witnessed this month.
In a region and world ruled by elected authoritarians, Nepalis &nbsp;went to the ballot box freely to express a collective will for change.
These faces in this group photo of the RSP’s 180 freshly-minted MPs at the ballroom of the Royal Tulip Hotel on Wednesday is symbolic of what Nepal has come through.&nbsp;
The ship of state righted itself after the September Storm, installing an interim government that held an election within six months in which voters banished obsolete politicians and their parties into oblivion.
Nepalis, fed up with the inept kakistocracy of the past three decades, took the country into a post-ideological phase — replacing Marxists, Maoists and monarchists &nbsp;with a belief in a new governing culture that rewards delivery and accountability. And they have trusted the RSP to carry it through.
Nepal’s history has never been linear, it jerks ahead in lurches. The polity also tends to take one step forward and two steps back, so the public’s great expectations is tempered by a sense of cautious optimism and guarded pessimism.
This could be the great leap forward that Nepalis have waited for and deserve, but it could also be a Gramscian interregnum in which the old is dead and the new is not yet born. We will have to wait to see whether this transitional period will also see ‘morbid symptoms’.
As disruptor-in-chief, it was the Balendra Shah ‘wave’ or ‘craze’ that propelled the RSP to power. The former Kathmandu mayor needed a party platform, and the RSP’s tainted leader Rabi Lamichhane required a booster. Nepal's voters were looking for a saviour.
Personality-wise Shah and Lamichhane are poles apart: one is Type B and the other Type A. One is enigmatic, the other phlegmatic. But yin and yang do also tend to complement each other.&nbsp;
Kathmandu’s chattering class is already making self-fulfilling prophecies about the two falling out, and are fishing for hints that they already have. Shah’s absence from the RSP’s orientation this week was taken as a clue.&nbsp;
Closing the two-day tutorial on Wednesday, Lamichhane delivered a fiery 30-minute speech that laid out the RSP’s main agenda: to function differently from the old parties, serve the people, avoid middlemen, become true lawmakers without taking the law into their own hands.&nbsp;
“The old political parties contributed to history, we will build the future with a new political contract with citizens,” he said, trying to rise over past controversies and his abrasive rhetoric to sound statesmanlike.&nbsp;
GIVE AND TAKE
Lamichhane is said to be in touch with the reclusive Shah to announce a compact cabinet next week. Its composition will be an indication of how much give-and-take there was, and whether the criteria for selecting ministers is competence or loyalty.
Will RSP ministers behave like rulers or service providers? The new government will dive right into the economic fallout of the West Asia war with soaring fuel &nbsp;prices, inflation and uncertainty about remittance inflows.
On Thursday, Gagan Thapa resigned as NC chair, taking moral responsibility for the party’s election loss. The UML’s unrepentant K P Oli does not share the same sentiment about who is responsible for his own party’s historic downfall.&nbsp;
NCP chair Pushpa Kamal Dahal, who was luckier than his cross-party cohort, is now a comparative relic in a Parliament largely comprised of freshmen and sophomore lawmakers.
But the NC, UML and NCP still control provincial and most municipal governments. The old parties could try to make things difficult for the RSP at the centre, but it is also an opportunity for them to clean up their act ahead of local elections next year.&nbsp;
Another test for the RSP will be dealing with a heavily-politicised klepto-bureaucracy which has to frontend its policy decisions. &nbsp;