<figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a28a59c7e80680e045883jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SONIA AWALE</figcaption></figure>For someone who jet sets around the world, hobnobbing with governments and scientists to promote affordable and ecological toilets, Roshan Shrestha found out for himself just how difficult maintaining loos can be during a recent visit to his home in Nepal.The Seattle-based 55-year-old sanitation expert (pictured below) found that the septic tank at his family home below Swayambhu was overflowing. But he had no clue who to turn to, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/where-to-take-a-dump/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">how to get it emptied</a>. “I did not know where to go,” recalled Shrestha during a break at a Faecal Sludge Management Conference last week in Cape Town. “If it was so difficult for me, I can only imagine how hard it must be for the general public.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/toilet-trained/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Toilet trained</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/where-to-take-a-dump/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Where to take a dump</a>, Bhushan TuladharShrestha finally got in touch with a private service provider and got the problem fixed after a few days. With over 30 years of experience in improving sanitation, Shrestha was promoted last month as Deputy Director of the Urban Sanitation Markets at the <a href="https://www.gatesfoundation.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation</a> (BMGF).Shrestha is a leading authority in the field, and involved in the BMGF’s <a href="https://www.gatesfoundation.org/What-We-Do/Global-Growth-and-Opportunity/Water-Sanitation-and-Hygiene/Reinvent-the-Toilet-Challenge-and-Expo" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Reinvent the Toilet Challenge</a> that has scientists around the world competing for the best design of a new generation of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/toilet-trained/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">toilets</a> that do not use water, are cheap to install and easy to operate.Shrestha has been recognised for promoting water and sanitation projects in Nepal with his new responsibility at the BMGF, a philanthropic arm of the founder of Microsoft.Says environmental expert Bhushan Tuladhar: “Roshan is passionate about sanitation, and does not treat it as just another job. He has great commitment and perseverance. His success is well deserved and it is only fitting that the foundation has recognised it.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-our-shit-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Getting our shit together</a>, EditorialThe Gates Foundation’s Brian Abrogast said of Shrestha’s promotion: “Roshan Shrestha has been the best ambassador the foundation could ask for, exuding respect and compassion while generating admiration – and impressive results.”The BMGF’s toilet challenge has prompted top scientists from China, India and other parts of the world to come up with innovative new designs, from solar-powered smart toilets that generate hydrogen and electricity to sanitation systems that convert human waste into biological charcoal, fuel gas, minerals and clean water.Shrestha had humble beginnings in a public school in Kathmandu before getting an MSc from Tribhuvan University in 1988. He worked in a water analysis laboratory to test the water in the Bagmati River. And later founded <a href="http://enpho.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Environment and Public Health Organisation</a> (ENPHO) that specialises in research and monitoring. Later, he got a PhD from a university in Austria in limnology, the study of inland water bodies. On his return, Shrestha successfully marketed the popular water purifier called Piyush.Shrestha went on to introduce Nepal’s first wetland system in Dhulikhel for small-scale wastewater treatment and reuse, and designed Nepal’s first faecal sludge treatment plant in Teku in 1998.“It was at this point that I realised that water quality would never improve without upgrading sanitation. At the root of water pollution is poorly managed sanitation,” said Shrestha, who then became involved in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dont-wait-for-melamchi-nepal,3765" target="_blank" rel="noopener">rainwater harvesting</a> and turned his residence into a model eco-home complete with urine diversion dry toilet.After a stint at UN HABITAT as a South Asia region technical adviser, he was convinced toilet technology had to be less water-intensive to improve sanitation in the developing countries. “We claim to have over 90% <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-our-shit-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">latrine coverage in Nepal</a> but most structures do not meet required standards, and that is why we need a new breakthrough in toilets,” said Shrestha.The Gates Foundation has invested heavily in developing new  technologies that can destroy pathogens on site through faecal sludge management.“If a vast country like India can clean up its act, why can’t Nepal? All we need is political will and proactive leadership committed to improving sanitation,” adds Shrestha, whose foundation is currently developing a new course on sanitation at Kathmandu University, and working with Nepal Bureau of Standards on a new <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15235#.XHfVCMAzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">toilet</a> standard.Here in Cape Town at the global conference he helped put together,  Shrestha says his goal is still to go back to Nepal: “I plan to head home, but after we have developed an adaptable technology for safer sanitation in developing countries so we can promote it in Nepal as well.”

Sonia Awale

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Toilet trained expert

<h4>As Nepal reaches the goal of sanitation for all, the next health challenge is to make latrines hygienic</h4>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeOw-x3Sp_E&amp;t=3sTill recently, across many parts of Nepal, where people defecated was a matter of life or death.Sidewalks and trails strewn with human excrement spread disease and contaminated drinking water. The main killer of children in Nepal used to be diarrhoeal dehydration.But in the past decade, the rapid spread of household latrines in Nepal is an internationally recognised success story. And it has saved the lives of many thousands of children who would otherwise have fallen victims to water-borne diseases like diarrhoea, typhoid and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/%20jajarkot-open-defecation-free,2023" target="_blank" rel="noopener">cholera</a>.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/getting-our-shit-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Getting our shit together</a>, EditorialThere is an inverse correlation between the increase in the proportion of households with toilets and the decrease in child mortality. In 1980 only 2% of homes had toilets, that figure has jumped to 97% today. In the same period, Nepal’s under-five child mortality dived from 209 per 1,000 live births to below 35 today.“The achievement in health outcomes of household toilets, especially in reducing diarrhoea incidence in the last five years, has been dramatic,” said Siddhi Shrestha of UNICEF.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b29c7e80680e033341jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="400" height="655"/>However, experts say just declaring a district open defection free does not mean it is -- access to water supply plays a critical role. In addition, the toilets need to be cleaned regularly to keep them hygienic. An evaluation found many latrines of substandard construction, not child or girl-friendly, many were located next to water sources, or were contaminating ground water. Open pits were buzzing with flies, which spread disease.Toilets in many schools and households were so dirty many students and villagers preferred to go out into the open.“Having a toilet in every household and declaring a district open defecation free is a major achievement. But having a toilet is different from using a toilet,” explained UN-HABITAT’s Bhushan Tuladhar.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/where-to-take-a-dump/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Where to take a dump?</a>, Bhushan TuladharBut as Nepal inches closer to the 100% household toilet target, another danger has already manifested itself: management of excreta that is overflowing out of pit latrines and septic tanks. There are only a handful of functioning faecal sludge treatment plants, even though emptying the sewage has become a booming business.“It is now time to think beyond the toilets,” said Bipin Dangol of Environment and Public Health Organisation (ENPHO). “Unless waste water and human excreta are safely disposed, we will continue to face health risks. The next step is to spread awareness about proper disposal of waste.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nature-calls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nature calls</a>, Sonia Awale<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b49c7e80680e033342jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="442">Toilets are now being thought of as part of a value chain system, starting from user interface, containment and transportation of the waste, followed by its treatment, disposal and safe reuse.The current toilet technology that involves flush tanks using drinking water is resource intensive, especially in Nepal’s cities which suffer a chronic water shortage. Engineers worldwide are experimenting with the next generation of toilet designs that allow excreta to be burnt and converted into valuable energy source. They also want the new prototypes to be affordable, work off-grid so that the poorest communities have access to safe sanitation solutions (read story below).Sanitation expert Doulaye Kone of the the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation was in Kathmandu recently for a meeting to approve a new standard ISO 30500 that set requirements for toilets of the future. They have to meet many criteria: destroy waste and kill pathogens, not use water or electricity, generate energy and water, cost less than Rs5 per use, and be easy to install and maintain.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vm_K5NvFpok“A new toilet that meets these standards will be a super vaccine,” he told Nepali Times in an interview. “A toilet is a health product so that people won’t have to suffer or die due to the lack of safe sanitation anymore.”A working model for a future breakthrough in Nepal's sanitation movement could be a new facility at an orphanage in Lubhu, which treats household effluent, turning it into methane gas, fertiliser and water for the kitchen and vegetable garden.Sanitation engineer Reetu Rajbhandari (pictured below at the Lubhu treatment plant) at ENPHO says the system is still expensive, and there are challenges of location.But she added: “This is an ideal solution for waste collection, disposal, treatment and recycling when everyone has a toilet. Future research needs to go into making it more affordable.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b69c7e80680e033343jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="789"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Waste not, want not</h2>Nepal solved one problem, and created another. After a successful campaign against open defecation, 97% of households in Nepal now have latrines. But what to do with the waste that has accumulated in the pits and sewage?To solve the growing problem, the Ministry of Water Supply and Sanitation passed the Faecal Sludge Management (FSM) framework for the collection, transport, treatment and disposal of waste in urban areas. For Kathmandu Valley, this will go hand-in-hand with the government’s plan to free the Bagmati of sewage by 2020.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b99c7e80680e033344jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="802"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A first-of-its-kind project at an orphanage in Lubhu (pictured above) outside Lalitpur gives a glimpse of how it would work. Septic tank waste is collected from households that pay for the service, transported to the treatment plant to be turned into fertiliser, methane gas and water.The plant (right) was originally set up to treat waste at shelters after the 2015 earthquake by the German organisation BORDA, Environment and Public Health Organisation (ENPHO), and Saligram Bal Griha. A similar faecal sludge treatment plant has been built in Bardia.The system treats six cubic metres of sewage per week, with separate solid and liquid units. It takes three days for the sludge to be treated and the water reused for irrigation. The rest flows into a digester to generate biogas, and the effluent takes 12 days to dry into odourless fertiliser.Vegetables thrive in the nutrient-rich waste, and are enough to feed all 42 children and staff in the orphanage. Extra greens are sold in the market.“We didn’t have sufficient water to farm in the past, now we can grow our own food, and cook in gas from treated human waste,” says caretaker Surya Prasad Ghimire. With a price tag of Rs7 million, the only downside for now is the cost, but that is because it is a prototype.When biogas first spread in Nepal 40 years ago, users were squeamish about allowing latrine waste to flow into the digester along with cowdung. By now there are 400,000 household biogas plants in Nepal, and nearly a third of them process both animal and human waste. In addition, 100 Police stations, Army bases and jails use human waste to generate gas for their kitchens.Explains Prakash Aryal of the Alternative Energy Promotion Centre (AEPC): “There used to be a taboo about linking toilets with biogas, but it is now easier to convince people due to the rise in awareness.”<h2>Here come the smart toilets</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2bc9c7e80680e033345jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="400"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the last 200 years, humans have sent rockets to Jupiter, the Internet has transformed communication, the Human Genome Project has mapped the chromosomes. Yet in that time, toilets have remained the same.Social taboos about defecation have stymied toilet technology from evolving beyond the ceramic water closet that allowed loos to be located inside homes. Aside from some automation and digital spray control, toilet technology has remained unchanged for two centuries.Finally in 2011, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation launched the Reinvent the Toilet Challenge to provide safe and affordable sanitation solutions to 2.5 billion people worldwide who don’t have access to toilets. The idea was to stop open defecation with a cheap alternative that would also prevent the spread of infections.The Foundation’s specification was to re-invent the toilet that would destroy the pathogens in human waste, convert it into energy, and not need to be connected to the sewage, water, or electricity grids. And, oh yes, it should also cost less than $0.5 cents per user per day and be suitable for urban poor and rural settings.Many companies have joined the competition with ideas like: a solar-powered toilet that generates hydrogen and electricity, sanitation systems that convert human waste into biological charcoal, fuel gas, minerals and clean water. The challenge has gained momentum in India and China where engineers are coming up with innovative new technologies.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2be9c7e80680e033346jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="429"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Last week, 120 experts from 33 countries were in Kathmandu (pictured above) to brainstorm on sustainable non-sewered sanitation systems, and approved a new standard ISO 30500 that set the requirement for toilets for the Third World that are safe, cheap and don’t need water.“Toilets today do not work. We need a system that kills pathogens, runs off the grid, and is affordable. A structure that can operate without existing infrastructure and reach marginalised communities,” explained Doulaye Kone (pictured below), sanitation expert at the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.The Challenge is literally a challenge. What engineers have come up with so far are contraptions ranging from what look like mini nuclear reactors to glorified pit latrines.Kone says what the Foundation is looking for are appliances that will outwardly appear no different from existing toilets, but will be standalone structures with no sewers, and can convert waste into clean water and energy. Cost, maintenance and social acceptance will be the main hurdles to be overcome.Manufacturers are ready to bring some of the new inventions into the market, but the ones so far are still expensive. Kone argues that while the prototypes may be expensive and will target urban dwellers, mass production of a viable business model will eventually take it to the poorest.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2c19c7e80680e033347jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="578"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“This is innovative technology that allows for on-site treatment and produces minimum waste, while producing pathogen free water,” says Bipin Dangol of Environment and Public Health Organisation (ENPHO). “Its capital investment might be large, but we have a good financial mechanism and social marketing. We just need to convince people that this system will be good for the health of their families.”

Toilet trained

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Mamata Kumari Yadav was born just before her father passed his high school exam on his second attempt. Which is why Ram Kewal Ray thinks his daughter brings good luck. Mamata is now a government civil servant, and has three sisters and a younger brother. All are doing well in their professions: one is a doctor at the Army Hospital, another has an MSc in Microbiology, and the other is working in Australia after finishing her MPh. Her brother, an engineering student, is in Kathmandu. “It was all because our parents prioritised education that we did so well in life,” says Mamata. Instead of being woken up to do household chores or work on the family farm, they were encouraged to finish their homework first. While Ram showed his daughters the way and encouraged them to study, it was Sanjeev Karn, a primary school teacher at a school near their home, who motivated them to do well. On International Women's Day, the story of Mamata and her sisters is an inspiring account of dedication, hard work and good guidance.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422" data-rendition-name="original" width="873" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Samata, Punam, Kumudini and Mamata, the four accomplished Yadav sisters from Sarlahi</figcaption> </figure>  Boys always came first in class, but that changed when Mamata and her sisters started excelling in their studies. All four sisters consistently ranked first in their classes and became widely known in the community for their performance. “My friend Sanjay Chaudhary was my biggest competition and used to stand second. He is an engineer now. We are still good friends and laugh about how we were rivals,” recalls Mamata. In a school where no girl had previously passed the high school exam with first division, Mamata became the first to do so and set a record that her sisters later followed. Her uncle in Kathmandu called her father Ram Kewal with the news that Mamata had passed in the first division. Overjoyed, her father went to school and bought Fanta for all her teachers in celebration.&nbsp; Mamata went to Chitwan after receiving a scholarship for a health assistant course. Although her school in Sarlahi was Nepali-medium, she was not able to speak the language properly and felt more comfortable using Maithili. In the new environment, she struggled with language and confidence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata in Sarlahi with her siblings and father when she was young</figcaption> </figure>  She was surprised to learn that Maithili is not spoken all over Nepal. The course was demanding, the textbooks were in English, the student community was diverse, and academic expectations were high. But Mamata began building friendships and confidence. Her sisters later joined her in Chitwan. Mamata returned to Sarlahi and began working with an organisation as a counsellor on sexually transmitted infections. It was her first job, and was proud to be able to support her father. Her second job with a non-profit required field visits across Sarlahi district, so she bought her own second-hand scooter.&nbsp; “Some neighbours did not approve that my parents gave me so much freedom, but they did not pay much heed to such warnings or gossip,” she says. Seeking stability she prepared for the civil service exam for auxiliary health worker position and was stationed in Sindhupalchok. When her father came to drop her off, being used to flat land he was a bit nervous about the steep mountains and 90-minute commute on foot. But he was proud to hear her patients call her ‘doctor’. Later, Mamata transferred back to her home district of Sarlahi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata Kumari Yadav</figcaption> </figure>  On a work trip to Kathmandu, on her family's recommendation she met a young man who was pursuing a master’s degree in engineering. Their first meeting was at a cafe in the presence of her brother. She found him simple, gentle, and committed to his studies, qualities that resonated with her own personality.&nbsp; “We got married, and my parents did not have to invest in dowry for me and my sisters because they had invested in us,” recalls Mamata, who then became a health post in-charge in Lalitpur. Following administrative restructuring, she found herself reporting to juniors, which limited her sense of growth. She then decided to prepare for the civil service exams in administration. Coming from a health background, the syllabus was unfamiliar and broad. Her first attempt taken without much preparation was unsuccessful, a first failure ever for Mamata.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Seeing off her sister Samata who studied MPH under the AusAID Scholarship</figcaption> </figure>  By this time, she had a son and the exam took a back seat for two years while managing her health post and raising him. When he turned two, she sent her son to Sarlahi, where her mother Phul Kumari took care of him so she could focus on her studies. This time, she passed. She became the first from her family in a government administrative position. After gaining enough experience, she aims to go back to the Madhes to serve in government positions as an honest bureaucrat. Her parents continue as they always have. Phul Kumari takes care of the household while Ram Kewal runs a pharmacy and tends to the farm back in Sarlahi. &nbsp; “We daughters owe a lot to our parents because our peers were never given the kinds of opportunities we had,” says Mamata. “They were married young and now have adult children. There is nothing girls cannot do if given the right guidance and opportunities.”

The Girl Dad of Nepal

Amidst the euphoria in Nepal about the RSP’s landslide victory, the party’s future government, possibly led by Balendra Shah will plunge headlong into an energy and economic crisis sparked by the war in West Asia. Nepal gets all its diesel, petrol, gas and aviation fuel from India and lacks a strategic stockpile to buffer against shortages. The United States has unsanctioned Russian crude oil to India for one month, but India will only export refined petroleum products to Nepal after meeting its own domestic demand. As it is, India has only 10 days of stockpile of cooking gas and it is giving preference to household use. Energy experts say new oil and gas supplies from Russia and elsewhere will take another month to arrive at Indian ports. “This conflict didn’t develop overnight, yet we did nothing to augment our reserves. Clearly, we didn’t manage procurement anticipating supply disruptions,” says economist Pushkar Bajracharya. The conflict has escalated, seriously disrupting global petroleum supplies. Nearly 20% of the world’s oil and gas moves out of the Strait of Hormuz which is now blocked. The Persian Gulf makes up most of the oil and liquified natural gas supplied to Japan (75%), India (50%) and China (38%). Crude oil prices have nearly doubled to $100 a barrel this week.&nbsp; “This crisis is only going to intensify, so in the short term, it means fuel prices will increase as will the cost of goods and services,” adds Bajracharya. “This doesn’t bode well for the new government, especially when people have such high expectations from it.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1315" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Strait of Hormuz NT"> </figure>  Fuel stoppages from India have happened before, notably during the 2015 Blockade. But Nepal could be better placed this time to cushion the shock because of the proliferation of battery-operated vehicles, and electrification of household cooking to some extent. “The increase in electric vehicles provides some relief, but it is not enough,” says energy economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “Most critical services still run on diesel, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”&nbsp; Nepal’s expanding road network means diesel and petrol consumption is also increasing. If the war drags on, there will be a critical shortage of aviation fuel that could also hurt tourism at the start of the trekking and mountaineering season. There is already a nationwide shortage of cooking gas which is used by 62% of Nepali households. &nbsp; The fuel crisis will have a knock-on effect on the economy which the RSP government will have to tackle on an emergency footing as soon as it comes into office. The priority would be to cap fuel prices with subsidies, control hoarding, and in the longer term expedite the switch to electricity for transportation and cooking.&nbsp; MONEY IN The other impact will be on jobs in West Asia and remittances. Nearly half the $11 billion a year Nepalis send home every year comes from West Asian countries. Nepal’s hard currency reserves have hit a record high $21.09 billion, but that cash will be of no use if there is no fuel to buy. A sharp drop in remittances due to the collapse of the economies of the Gulf states if the war is prolonged will have a multiplier impact particularly on Nepalis' household expenses and the country’s economy in general. This in turn will have a knock-on effect on investment, and affect the RSP government’s main agenda which is to create jobs at home. The vicious cycle will then mean that more Nepalis will want to migrate for overseas jobs, but options in the Gulf may not be available. The RSP’s ministers in government will have to come up with innovative ways to re-integrate Nepalis forced to return because they lose their jobs, or for safety reasons. There are nearly 2 million Nepalis across the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and another 7,000 mainly women caregivers in Israel. “Other than the impact on remittances and the economy, there could be the additional challenge of rescuing over 2 million Nepalis in West Asia if it comes to that,” says Bajracharya. “We don’t have the resources, and we will have to rely on India’s logistical help.” The RSP’s main vote bank was among global Nepalis, who could not cast &nbsp;ballots themselves but influenced families and friends back home to choose the party. Social media was abuzz with slogans that promoted how choosing the RSP would bring their children back home from the Gulf. “The RSP got a majority, and that’s a good thing but voters came together to oppose UML, NC and the Maoists. But there is no clear ideology or philosophy, so while their slogan to bring Nepalis back from the Gulf sounds nice, what would they come back to?” asks Gyawali. The Nepali diaspora in the Gulf that influenced the electorate so effectively will now be looking at how the government it helped get to power in Kathmandu will help as war engulfs the region.&nbsp; There is an almost unrealistically high expectation of the RSP, and the party may not even get the customary 100-day honeymoon period. The cabinet could be put together easily enough, but the bureaucracy, judiciary, police, and the Upper House are all populated by loyalists of the old parties. Despite bad blood, the RSP will have to work together with all parties in the face of the crisis unleashed by the war. And Nepal’s politicised foreign policy must be galvanised to deal with the crisis.

faecal-sludge-management

Toilet trained expert

Toilet trained

RSP’s activist DNA

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

The Girl Dad of Nepal

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers