<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01db9c7e80680e0a364djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>“Countries knock at our doors all the time for capital, as it is getting harder and harder to obtain development funds. We are holding $500 million for Nepal. We cannot wait forever. When will it be the right time for Nepal?”Fatema Z Sumar, Vice President of Compact Operations at the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) appeared mystified about why a country like Nepal that needs all the help it can get to develop its infrastructure, should be so hesitant about the grant her government is offering.Sumar was on the final day of her <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/mcc-row-rocks-nepals-ruling-coalition/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/mcc-row-rocks-nepals-ruling-coalition/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHAfb7xioCyDtl5OJ53aqyeI5-LuA">four-day visit to Nepal</a> on Sunday, speaking at an engagement with opinion makers. There was a litany of questions from across the table, and Sumar sounded like someone who is getting somewhat jaded answering the same questions over and over again in Kathmandu.“No, the MCC is not part of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/between-two-oceans/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/between-two-oceans/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFfIGiI1YhN4TBrqt-_uVwcnhLEPg">Indo-Pacific Strategy</a> and there is no US Army involvement.”“This is a treaty between two countries and has gone through the Obama, the Trump and now the Biden administrations.”“In order to make this a treaty, the Nepal government wanted to ratify it through Parliament. So, we are waiting for that.”Sumar was a former assistant secretary for South and Central Asia at the US State Department before joining the MCC. Her family is Malaysian Indian, so she understands the region well, but she was hearing in Nepal some of the same political rhetoric that led to the Sri Lankans cancelling the MCC last year for being ‘against the national interest’.MCC makes three types of grants: compacts, threshold programs and concurrent compacts for regional investment. Nepal’s grant is a five-year compact agreement with the MCC that allows an eligible country to fund specific programs targeted at reducing poverty and stimulating economic growth.The concept of the MCC is to make US development assistance ‘smarter’, and to study a country’s bottlenecks so that catalytic investment can allow it to take an economic leap. A panel of Nepali and American experts concluded in 2017 that increasing hydropower transmission capacity and upgrading highways would be most cost-effective, at a time when the country was suffering 12-hour daily power cuts.When a country applies for a grant from the MCC, the board examines its performance based on 20 policy indicators, and selects based on policy performance. The MCC says its grants are given to country-driven and country-led investments and infrastructure priorities for achieving sustainable economic growth and poverty reduction, and Nepal qualified.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01df9c7e80680e0a364ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="998"><figcaption>MCC vice president Fatema Sumar (third from left) with Prime Minister Deuba on Saturday at Baluwatar. Photo: PMO</figcaption></figure>So far MCC has approved $13.7 billion in compacts and $631 million in threshold programs worldwide. After Sri Lanka pulled out, Nepal is the only South Asian country on the list of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-millennium-challenge/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-millennium-challenge/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHcCgQFuOb2-re-ZURkglqZhwDvTg">MCC-approved compacts</a>.“The $500 million we are holding for Nepal is money not given to other countries which need to get out of poverty,” said Sumar’s colleague Jonathan A Brooks at the interaction. Although Brown said he had no idea where the confusion about the MCC having a military component comes from, a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/knowing-whats-good-for-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/knowing-whats-good-for-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHV-jTWUQwTz4eLLTh_R5gdfjVGwQ">comment by US Under Secretary of State David J Ranz</a> in 2019 that the MCC was indeed a part of the US <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/between-two-oceans/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/between-two-oceans/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFfIGiI1YhN4TBrqt-_uVwcnhLEPg">Indo-Pacific Strategy</a> did a lot of self-inflicted damage.Sumar and Brooks fielded <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/post-truth-politics-in-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/post-truth-politics-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEL3a5V092kNi8iXts-zWiYBTZWOA">other questions</a> that had become familiar to them during their stay in Kathmandu with answers like: the agreement with Nepal prohibits army involvement, security issues are totally for Nepal government to oversee, the compact has no provisions that contradict Nepal’s laws, the project is not above Nepal’s Constitution, and international law would apply to resolve any disputes.A major chunk of the $500 million MCC grant will go to build the Kathmandu-Hetauda-Butwal 400KV transmission line to distribute 3,000MW which will come on stream in the next three years from new <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/decentralising-hydropower/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/decentralising-hydropower/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGKA68VJytSmPpVqeXiamgpi0kCgQ">hydropower plants</a>. The line will also connect to a high-capacity electricity corridor to Gorakhpur so Nepal can <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/mcc-row-damages-nepals-credibility/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/mcc-row-damages-nepals-credibility/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEoVnLVfqbE4et0DScH8cbve0ffag">sell surplus monsoon electricity</a> to India in future.This week, the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) signed an agreement with the state-run Power Grid Corporation of India (POWERGRID) for the Butwal-Gorakhpur cross border transmission line extension in anticipation of the MCC project being completed.Sumar has seen several changes in government after she started coming to Nepal for the MCC. Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his predecessor K P Oli were both in favour of the MCC, but other Communist partners in the ruling coalition are against it.As a descendant of an immigrant family herself, Sumar says she understands that poverty is not insurmountable, and can be prevented with the right government investment at the right time. She calls herself a “development diplomat”, and feels that economic growth built on better infrastructure would also bring Nepal stability.“The MCC will create many thousands of jobs for Nepalis at a time when the pandemic is creating losses of jobs and livelihoods,” she says, adding that when President John F Kennedy launched a major global drive to help developing countries in the early 1960s, Nepal was one of the first countries to receive the support.The criteria Nepal fulfilled to receive the MCC grant was its democratic polity, guarantees of basic freedoms, and protection of human rights. Sumar underlined the fact that the MCC would also help Nepal put renewable energy infrastructure in place that could be an example for a world coming to terms with climate change.The MCC project has become a victim of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/knowing-whats-good-for-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/knowing-whats-good-for-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHV-jTWUQwTz4eLLTh_R5gdfjVGwQ">extreme political polarisation</a> as opponents to K P Oli used the MCC to unseat him, and now it threatens to split the ruling coalition. The anti-MCC rhetoric had been so effective in convincing the cadre and public that it is anti-national, that even supporters in Deuba’s Nepali Congress, Oli’s UML and other public figures and intellectuals are afraid to speak in favour.Social media is full of posts that say Nepal will become ‘another Afghanistan’ if Parliament ratifies the MCC. But now that Sumar and her MCC team has left, the ball is back in the court of the political class in Kathmandu to ensure that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/power-politics-delays-mcc-in-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/power-politics-delays-mcc-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1631579093888000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHlQppZeGXNXQbC5_D2GZNFz2URgw">Nepal has the capacity</a> to distribute the electricity it generates in future.

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MCC ball in Nepal’s court

<figure><img width="1286" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d015a9c7e80680e0a3624jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Vice president of US Mellennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) Fatema Z Sumar arrives in Kathmandu on Thursday.</figcaption></figure>Fatema Z Sumar, vice president of the US Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC), parachuted into Kathmandu on Thursday amidst a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/mcc-damned-if-we-do-damned-if-we-dont/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">firestorm of protest</a> against the project that threatens to divide Nepal’s coalition government.Together with her deputy Jonathan Brooks, Sumar over the next four days will be meeting Nepal’s top politicians who are for and against the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-millennium-challenge/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">$500 million grant project</a> designed to upgrade Nepal’s electricity grid and highways. The visit follows Sumar’s written response to concerns raised by Nepal’s Finance Ministry on 3 September regarding the grant. The main objective of the MCC is a 315km transmission line between Hetauda-Damauli-Butwal, important for the distribution of the 3,000MW of electricity that will be added to Nepal’s national grid in the next three years. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/why-there-is-no-foreign-investment-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Why there is no foreign investment in Nepal</a> , Nepali Times <img width="512" height="461" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d015d9c7e80680e0a3625jpeg.jpg" alt="">The discourse surrounding the MCC has been influenced by geopolitical rivalries between India and China on the one hand and between the US and China on the other, with Nepal’s political parties <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/knowing-whats-good-for-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">weaponising the project</a> to undermine each other.Indeed, support for the MCC by K P Oli was one of the issues raised by the five-party alliance that led to his ouster in July, after which <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/deuba-5/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Deuba took over as prime minister</a>.Two months later, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/what-is-delaying-nepal-cabinet-expansion/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Deuba is yet to complete government formation</a>,  and support and opposition to the MCC is now threatening to undermine his governing alliance. The MCC is such a political hot potato that it was not even listed in the coalition’s common minimum program last month despite Prime Minister Deuba being for it.However, critics including his main coalition partner Pushpa Kamal Dahal of the Maoists and Madhav Kumar Nepal of the Communist Party of Nepal (United Socialist) view the project as part of America’s Indo-Pacific Strategy, and superseding Nepal’s Constitution.Sumar’s letter attempted to assuage both of these concerns, saying that the MCC is neither a part of America’s Indo-Pacific Strategy, nor is it not above Nepal’s Constitution. However, the response added that the points previously agreed upon would not be subject to amendments, which did little to quell the growing protest, including street demonstrations. The delegation led by Vice President Samar met with opposition leader K P Sharma Oli on Thursday afternoon to discuss the project, and is also set to meet with Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, Finance Minister Janardan Sharma and Energy Minister Pampha Bhusal (both Maoists). <figure><img width="1800" height="1200" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01609c7e80680e0a3626jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The delegation led by Sumar met with opposition leader K P Sharma Oli on Thursday afternoon. </figcaption></figure>The MCC compact has clauses requiring that it be ratified by Nepal’s Parliament, and that the project be completed five years after the work officially commences. Nepal had committed to ratifying the MCC in Parliament by September 2019, but the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/just-do-it/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">process has been deadlocked</a> by the feud in the ruling Communist Party of Nepal while Oli was prime minister.Lok Raj Baral, Nepal’s former ambassador to India, says that there has been unnecessary over-politicisation of the issue that has harmed Nepal’s international credibility."The opposition to the MCC seems to have been led by those in power who were also trying to stop the Arun III hydropower project," says Baral. “That the opinions of individual leaders dominate the discourse over official party decisions speaks to the selfishness of Nepal’s political leadership.”Former Prime Minister Oli backed the MCC after he took over from Deuba in 2017, but his main party rival Pushpa Kamal Dahal and dissidents from his own UML used provisions in the MCC that they saw as being anti-national <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/own-goal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">against Oli</a>.  <figure><img width="1800" height="1121" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01639c7e80680e0a3627jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Now, with Deuba being Prime Minister once again, the debate surrounding the MCC is likely to put a strain on his ruling coalition, made up of Dahal’s Maoist Centre and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s breakaway CPN (United Socialist) which are opposed to the project.On the other hand, the Nepali Congress and another coalition partner Janata Samajbadi Party (JSP)  seem open to ratifying the agreement in Parliament, but they do not have enough numbers in the House for it to be successful. Deuba has been sending feelers to the opposition UML to see if it will back the ratification in Parliament. For his part, Pushpa Kamal Dahal has been saying that the MCC is a conspiracy to break the ruling alliance. However, experts see Dahal’s position on the MCC as being inconsistent and opportunistic. He went along with the project, and then <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/power-politics-delays-mcc-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">weaponised it during his power struggle </a>with Oli."It should not come as a surprise to anyone if the ruling coalition collapses because of the MCC,” says political analyst Punaranjan Acharya, who adds that it is not Prime Minister’s Deuba’s intention to go against the agreement, but  that of the “so-called” communist parties in Deuba’s alliance. "The prime minister has tried to be transparent regarding the matter,” says Acharya. “The problem is with the double-dealing leaders of the coalition partners.”Former speaker Krishna Bahadur Mahara, who resigned from his position in 2019 following allegations of rape, said last year in a statement that he had been falsely accused for opposing the MCC. His successor Agni Prasad Sapkota has also blocked the MCC Compact for discussion on the House floor.Rastriya Janamorcha Party Chairman Chitra Bahadur KC, who is a member of Deuba’s coalition, says that the MCC will not be allowed to reach Parliament, and will not be ratified in the event it is presented before the House. “We continue to oppose the MCC, which is not even included in the coalition’s Common Minimum Program,” says KC.Constitutional expert Bipin Adhikari says it would be ironic if the MCC is not allowed to be presented before the people’s representatives in the House because of the political self-interest of the Speaker and other powerful political leaders.Other analysts insist that the political process surrounding the MCC should be moved forward in a way that the project is ratified in the House without breaking the coalition and without the party whip being applied.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/using-the-delay-in-mcc-to-dissect-it/">Putting the MCC in context</a>, Jeevan R Sharma and David Seddon

MCC row rocks Nepal’s ruling coalition

This is the 81st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I went to Australia in 2008 because everyone was headed there. It was my first time leaving the country and my first job. My college helped me find work as a kitchen helper at a Brisbane restaurant.&nbsp; I did not know that being a kitchen helper meant washing dishes. I was young and did not know how to wash dishes or how to handle the steam, the hot water, and the busy kitchen. The utensils were thrown at the dishwashing station continuously, and water splashed on my face. My shoes and clothes were always wet. It was an on-call job. A couple of days into the job, I was asked to come in when I was at the movies. I refused. They fired me. That was that. I then worked on a farm, picking lemons and oranges. The lemon work was particularly hard because I would get cuts all over my hands. This hustle was not for me.&nbsp; Within a year in Australia, I decided to return to Nepal because the foreign life did not suit me. After spending eight months in Nepal, reality sank in. Nepal was not all that great either. I went back to Australia. On the plane, I befriended a Nepali woman who was homesick and a first time traveler. At the immigration in Australia, the officer noticed my long absence and started interrogating me. He noticed the Nepali woman waiting for me and asked who she was. Without thinking I lied that she was my girlfriend. That seemed to do the trick because he did not want us to be separated. He stamped my passport. She went her way. I went mine.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f" data-rendition-name="original" width="987" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81 NT"> </figure>  In Sydney, I again found a dishwashing job at a fine dining restaurant. A Sri Lankan colleague helped me learn the job. The pace at which I had to do the dishes was insane but I got the hang of it in two weeks. I always dreamt of one day wearing the chef’s white coat. It commanded respect, I could tell. In addition to becoming good at my job washing dishes, I also had good language and networking skills so I built good relationships with colleagues. There was a need for a pizza chef at the restaurant. It was expensive to hire someone new, and they asked me if I was up for the job. I said yes even though I knew nothing about making pizzas. My Italian colleagues coached me and before I knew it, I became better than others at the job. Soon, I realised that I did not just want to make pizzas. Whatever I wanted to learn, I just asked seniors to take me under their wings and I would help without pay. They would agree but still pay me. It wasn’t a strategy per se, I genuinely wanted to learn. At some point, a Japanese sous chef in my restaurant and I had coincidentally applied to the same restaurant, and there, under him, I got to learn even more. Working with a Japanese chef is really difficult, but you learn a lot. He would sometimes even hold my hand with tongs dipped in hot water when I screwed something up. I worked in a few restaurants after this and was earning well. When one of my colleagues, a dishwasher, was let go unfairly, I decided to leave because I did not want to be a quiet bystander to this act. I returned to Nepal immediately after this.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="DD 82"> </figure>  I started a restaurant called Ghumti, but it was struggling. The location of the restaurants was not good and it failed. I bought another restaurant in Darbar Marg. I was managing two restaurants when Covid hit. The rent kept piling up, and there was no revenue. I took a huge loss. I gave them up and returned to Chitwan and started making migration plans. I came across a job vacancy for Alba in Qatar by the famous Enrico Crippa. I still remember the heat when I got out of the airport in Doha, it was like entering an oven. Thankfully, I had a Nepali roommate who showed me around and helped me adjust.&nbsp; The hotel was still under construction, but training had started. We worked really hard for the opening and things went well. In 2023, we even won the Best MENA Restaurant award. But at some point in 2024, the international Crippa chain decided to leave.&nbsp; Some colleagues including the head chef left and I suddenly was put in charge. I had some head chef experience from Australia and had previous experience working in high pressure environments, so I stepped up. We had to start from scratch again, this time as Alba in Raffles, Doha.&nbsp; The name of our restaurant comes from the Alba white truffle, which is the best available and is expensive, selling at around 40,000 QAR per kg. We had heard the official announcement that the Michelin was coming to Qatar, and we worked even harder.&nbsp; Michelin inspections are strict, highly secretive and you have no idea you are being investigated. Even then, we were up for the game. We were ‘selected’ which meant we had potential.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="697" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81"> </figure>  I went to the award ceremony with low expectations. But because they announce the name alphabetically, Alba came first. I was very happy and felt validated. Being recognised as a Michelin one star restaurant is a huge achievement for us. My MD reminded me of a promise I had made of getting a Michelin tattoo if we got the award. I guess I will get it done when I come to Nepal next. My plan is to get a tattoo that captures my journey right from the dishwashing days.&nbsp; I have cooked for Obama, Beckham, Kaka, Trump, 50 Cent, Lindsay Lohan, you name it, because our restaurant is visited by high profile guests. At first, I used to feel the pressure. Now I view all guests as the same. The food you make is the same no matter who is eating it. I love the work. In fact, it does not feel like work. The rush in the kitchen, the atmosphere, the heat, the scent, I live for it. When I am not working, I get bored. It is like an addiction without which I get withdrawals. I want to contribute in introducing Nepali cuisine and ingredients in the worldstage. Nepalis overseas have a lot of potential in the hospitality sector. But my advice to youth is to focus on building a strong base and invest in learning. It is increasingly common for Nepalis to job hop for a salary jump. While other skills like language are also important, it is the hard skills that we really need to focus on. In our field of work, it is the plate that needs to speak.

Sky is the limit

During the 2022 election, populist candidates campaigned with algorithms and were elected mayors. In 2026, they are campaigning with AI-generated memes and videos. Four years ago, the idea that the most potent weapon in the next election in Nepal would be artificially generated clips of politicians beating each other up would have been science fiction. Yet, here we are: at a fever pitch of AI-based political content. Some are generated by the IT cells of political parties, while most are just produced and posted by young tech-savvy supporters of the new candidates. Most of them ridicule older leaders, and the predominant target is former prime minister K P Oli who was forced to resign after the September protests. On 20 January the TikTok account ‘iamfunnyman88’ posted a slapstick video in which former Kathmandu Mayor Balendra Shah is seen accosting ex-prime minister K P Oli with a giant bell (pictured), swinging it in Kung Fu Hustle style in what looks like Patan Darbar Square. Oli is sent splattered on the ground. K P Oli has become a symbol of the legacy parties and their aged leaders, and everything that is wrong with them. Balendra Shah represents the new protest candidate. The two are contesting from Jhapa-5, and it is turning out to be a prime ministerial race for 5 March. In another video, the RSP vs UML clash played out as a high-stakes war from the Mahabharat. Oli is a young warrior with a chiselled jaw and wearing a heavy golden armour ready to lead his followers to battle (pictured). A stylised Nepal flag flutters above him to the accompaniment of filmy dialogue.&nbsp; The videos are everywhere on TikTok, YouTube and Facebook. Many of the posts are hitting over 200,000 likes and 5 million views. Such content seems to be engaging more voters than speeches and door-to-door campaigning at the hustings. The videos are fake, but the numbers, and the attention they command, are very real.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014010_ed52fe3248b54eb4f9f391ee718e874a86c1b98297dde203800ad7b114bdacda.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026013014010_ed52fe3248b54eb4f9f391ee718e874a86c1b98297dde203800ad7b114bdacda" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal election memes"> </figure>  At first, it looked like the RSP’s digital media presence was a joke aimed at getting easy-to-access publicity via the far-reaching arms of the algorithm. But it is looking like a carefully designed strategy promoting Balen Shah as the RSP’s star player in this election.&nbsp; In 2022, it was just for the mayor of Kathmandu. This time, Balen Shah is already being promoted in these videos as a winner who has defeated the legacy politicians.&nbsp; In previous elections in Nepal, political parties used to spend lavishly on the ‘masu bhat’ strategy — feeding heavy plates of mutton curry and rice to constituents in return for votes. Ideology was swapped for immediate caloric gratification often accompanied by free-flowing alcohol.&nbsp; But surely, the new voter is too sophisticated for this. Politicians insist they have rebooted their operating systems to serve this enlightened demographic. We are talking, after all, about the generation that brought down a government over 36 hours in September.&nbsp; The assumption is that young voters today are too aware and far too proud to trade democratic agency for something as crude as a plate of steaming mutton curry and rice.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014014_983476ba334f895b64cd8ea34bd0ad79c1632c428feb119c84477d8e929eb057.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026013014014_983476ba334f895b64cd8ea34bd0ad79c1632c428feb119c84477d8e929eb057" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal elections meme"> </figure>  But the question is: are voters today any different? Aren’t these social media memes digital versions of the masu bhat that delivers a dopamine rush to voters? Watching the videos is entertainment that delivers a state of bliss, a protest against what is old but no enlightenment about how to get to the new. &nbsp; The I-cannot-go-a-single-minute-without-checking-my-phone demographic has leaned firmly towards politicians whose main focus is to be a social media star first, and an accountable politician second. More than 70% of Nepalis have smartphones now and most are hooked on data plans. The public has acquired a taste for a different kind of masu bhat - the digital kind. Instead of being made to slurp up the free spicy, fatty goat curry with deep guttural satisfaction, voters are being made to swallow easy-to-digest online clips to make serious voting decisions.&nbsp; After all, it is more fun than paying attention to a candidate’s policy proposals and actually thinking critically about the candidates.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014014_eb3a9e0c50f4a47706a6695e78ae41556c3d9754c15d564d42fb0de3f4199999.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026013014014_eb3a9e0c50f4a47706a6695e78ae41556c3d9754c15d564d42fb0de3f4199999" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal elections meme"> </figure>  TURNING POINT An important moment for the evolution of this digital masu bhat is the 2020 pandemic. It was just six years ago that the entire population was cut off from physical interaction. The phone screen became the sole mediator of social existence.&nbsp; Technology changes what we see as important, and this prolonged immersion fundamentally alters our perception of reality, training us to accept the flattened, binary logic of the algorithm as a substitute for the complex, multisensory texture of political reality. What is on the phone has started to dictate the questions we ask and the answers we accept. If it is not on the phone, it is starting to look irrelevant. The memes manufacture consent. Gerontocratic politicians habituated to legacy media have not fathomed the implications of this new virtual world. Everyone has been swayed by a good story since the beginning of time. Now, the phone has allowed millions of Nepalis to tell, retell, consume, and remix stories that would traditionally have huge barriers to entry. Consider the vegetable vendor killing time between customers, Gen-Z youth with no memory of the Maoist conflict, or the grandad who cannot distinguish an AI video from real footage.&nbsp; When they finally step into the voting booth, what is guiding their hand? Is it a careful calculus of policy proposals, demonstrated competence, and leadership integrity? Or is it the cumulative impact of those AI-generated dopamine hits they have been fed on a loop? This digital fog of war cuts both ways. In a twist of supreme irony, actual footage of candidates behaving badly is now routinely dismissed as ‘AI-generated’ by their PR teams. This was a convenient get-out-of-jail-free card that Balen’s camp used when a video of him shoving cadres went viral.&nbsp; Meanwhile, completely fabricated tear-jerkers of old leaders like Prachanda weeping are consumed by the public as gospel truth. We have arrived at a point where the inconvenient real is dismissed as a glitch, and the emotional fake is embraced as history.&nbsp; In Society of the Spectacle, Guy Debord argued that images eventually replace real life. Today’s voters in Nepal and elsewhere are not even consuming the actual meat-and-bones of mutton curry; they are swallowing the 15 second digital imitations of it.&nbsp; Welcome to the age of digital मासु भात.

Nepal’s AI-generated election

We walk past familiar neighbourhoods and wonder how much it has changed. An ongoing exhibition at The Kalā Salon titled Changing Times by The Pagoda Group aims to do just that -- capture ever-changing society within a captivating display of colourful canvases. Brick-lined houses, local tea shops, ancient temples, quiet devotion are themes in Pradhumna Shrestha’s series Shangri-La, much of which is an imagined past filled with nostalgia of the place he grew up in. By keeping people out of the frame, he allows space for what he calls a divine aura to surface.&nbsp; “I was born and brought up here and my canvases echo the nostalgia of cities like Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Lalitpur which are dense with myth, folklore, religion, and an ever-present divinity. All of this is truly what is ours, and we must treasure it,” says Shrestha. “Whatever I truly felt in my heart, I translated it into my work.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_32a8f9e9816595f12ec0da357528feffbb249fd19adbb658c18e72e2b721f9df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260128100132_32a8f9e9816595f12ec0da357528feffbb249fd19adbb658c18e72e2b721f9df" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1036" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  The swirling clouds that drift across Shrestha’s canvases borrow from thangka and paubha traditions, lending the scenes a sense of mysticism and otherworldliness. Within this dreamscape are red circular forms which represent wheels of chariots. &nbsp;The presence of divinity dominates from above, its presence asserted in soft blue brushstrokes below, as if the deity’s gaze itself has seeped into the land. Gods linger as guardians and temples hum with enigma in his paintings. In his much earlier work, Cultural Bond, a lakhe masked dancer bursts forward in vibrant red, dancing against a backdrop of molten gold clouds. The lakhe’s trance signifies protection and where it steps, the evil cannot follow. Hence, the skulls that surround but never fall beneath its feet but, one leg hangs suspended in midair, suggesting uncertainty, raising questions.&nbsp; Is this a symbol of culture and tradition, secure, or is it endangered by modernity? The work captures a society at a crossroads, honouring tradition while grappling with the risk of drifting away from it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_c78307920acc7b14fb9f469a011043661accec66c230b5e7587bcba0199bcbf1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260128100132_c78307920acc7b14fb9f469a011043661accec66c230b5e7587bcba0199bcbf1" data-rendition-name="original" width="979" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  In Panchatatva Mandala, Pasang Bikram Lama fuses two mandalas into a single visual meditation, suggesting unity where each colour carries symbolic weight: yellow evokes the soil of the earth, blue flows as water, red burns with fire, and black opens into the vastness of the spatial sky. Together, these elements form a quiet cosmology that speaks of creation and dissolution, of life folding endlessly into death and returning again. Says Lama, “Everyone has a mandala of their own being, and the elements represent their cycle of life.” Mala Shrestha’s works Water of the Divine Mother and The Spirit of Serenity unfold in a dreamy and delicate fusion of nature and religion, suggesting that divine forms are not separate from the natural world. Trees and branch-like motifs appear as origins of sacred sculptures and spiritual presences.&nbsp; Her goddesses, adorned in alluring ornaments, emerge from trunks and streams, painted in aqua green, pink pastels, and rustic browns, as if grown rather than created, affirming that the divine is inseparable from nature and present everywhere.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_1f8cce84b4515a0d6d8b8fc169367bf5d39a7479c2c30038dafe90ec2bb3c4c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260128100132_1f8cce84b4515a0d6d8b8fc169367bf5d39a7479c2c30038dafe90ec2bb3c4c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  Kishor Nakarmi’s Essence of Nepal, where Gautam Buddha appears embedded within leaves, brick walls, birds, and wilderness, dissolving boundaries between the sacred and the earthly. These canvases radiate calm and their subtlety is enriched by finely observed details. Similarly, Rudra Bahadur Pun captures the vitality of mask dances and ritual movements found in the monasteries of Mustang, weaving together tradition, landscape, and daily life. The essence of the exhibition comes together in Roshan Pradhan’s works. His paintings reflect a contemporary tension where technology collides with ancestral myth and the power of tradition. A fierce Garud rises within a landscape saturated by technological apparatuses, while at its feet a human form representing AI clings tightly, attempting to assert control.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_dc2c1ad4a4cefea6c6c7d02e9ed500309b7c862535247fe6451038e1d053d6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260128100132_dc2c1ad4a4cefea6c6c7d02e9ed500309b7c862535247fe6451038e1d053d6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  In another work, Bhairab confronts a human embodiment of AI in a theatrical standoff, with the deity ultimately prevailing, reaffirming endurance over technological dominance. The human figures in Pradhan’s paintings are drawn from life with his friends volunteering as models, photographed and later translated onto canvas.&nbsp; “Technology has taken over our lives. Many can probably not even imagine life without it now. But, culture, too, is integral to human existence. Our life would be much different without our culture; it is a part of us,” notes the artist. Rather than framing technology as purely antagonistic, Pradhan explores coexistence, and while acknowledging its destructive potential, he affirms his belief in the power of our myths and traditions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_bc831a663ca8977c39979a363a95bcae5e41cfe624d78152c546579caa3e680f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260128100132_bc831a663ca8977c39979a363a95bcae5e41cfe624d78152c546579caa3e680f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  Pradhan adds, “These paintings are also an archive of its time. Viewers centuries from now may read these paintings as records of the age we inhabit. While technology is important, cultural continuity must walk alongside it. Festivals must still be celebrated, oral traditions must be sustained, and our roots must be remembered, especially by future generations.” Curator Sophia L Pande says the exhibition took more than a year to put together:&nbsp; “It responds to a shifting world, seeking to capture both transformation and the quiet fear of loss. Its themes move fluidly across environment, technology, artificial intelligence, and climate change, reflecting the diverse yet interconnected practices of the artists, providing a glimpse into the evolving landscape of contemporary Nepali art.” Changing Times The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre, Thamel 11AM-8PM

Time, transience, transition

The slow, arduous labour of democracy rarely announces itself with the fanfare of constitutional moments. &nbsp;It proceeds instead through committee rooms, ward meetings, half-attended assemblies, the awkward choreography of speech and silence, and the everyday compromises between aspiration and constraint.&nbsp; The book Nepal’s Federalism and the Pursuit of Deliberative Democracy attends precisely to this unglamorous terrain. In it, Vishnu Kumari Tandon does not ask whether democracy is desirable — an already settled question — but whether it can be made to think, to listen, and to endure under conditions of inequality, historical fracture, and institutional novelty.&nbsp; Her wager is modest yet demanding: that federalism, when tethered to participatory planning and deliberative fors, might recalibrate the relationship between state and citizen without promising redemption. Tandon’s Nepal is neither a site of democratic salvation nor a study in failure. It is a space of trial, where ideas migrate from constitutional text to municipal practice, altered by context, power, and expectation. Democracy here appears not as an ideal form but as a situated practice -- procedural, contested, and unfinished.&nbsp; The book’s quiet achievement lies in redirecting debates on deliberative democracy away from abstract normativity and toward the ethical friction of lived institutions. Federalism arrives in Nepal not as a technocratic reform but as a historical concession, wrested from conflict, exclusion, and prolonged political unrest. Tandon, who is a governance consultant at the World Bank, situates the 2015 Constitution within this unsettled genealogy, treating federalism less as an administrative innovation than as a moral response to longstanding claims of marginalisation.&nbsp; The constitutional recognition of local autonomy is thus freighted with ethical expectation. Yet the book refuses to equate decentralisation with empowerment. Federalism, Tandon insists, redistributes power without dissolving hierarchy. Domination may simply reappear closer to home. The central question, therefore, is not whether local governments exist, but how they govern: whether institutionalised participation genuinely alters the terms on which citizens speak, decide, and contest public priorities. Federalism emerges not as a stable structure but as a field of tension—between autonomy and dependence, inclusion and capture, aspiration and capacity. It is within this unstable terrain that the democratic experiment unfolds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127090120_62bd86d5cbb0dc9d199b797b2c90a5be37213b6c9236f79220706469cd3689a0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260127090120_62bd86d5cbb0dc9d199b797b2c90a5be37213b6c9236f79220706469cd3689a0" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Vishnu Kumari Tandon"> <figcaption>Vishnu Kumari Tandon</figcaption> </figure>  UNEQUAL SKIES&nbsp; Participation, one of democracy’s most invoked terms, often risks conceptual exhaustion. Tandon restores its weight by treating participation as labour rather than ritual. Drawing on fieldwork in Buddhabhumi and Dhanushadham municipalities, she reconstructs the choreography of local planning: assemblies, committees, and councils through which proposals circulate, stall, or vanish. Participation here is unevenly distributed. It is shaped by gendered expectations, caste hierarchies, economic precarity, and anticipations of return. Attendance becomes a calculation rather than a civic reflex. This analytical attention to motivation marks one of the book’s strengths.&nbsp; Citizens participate not out of abstract virtue but through pragmatic reasoning, moral obligation, and strategic interest. Participation thus appears neither ennobling nor cynical, but politically intelligible. If participation concerns presence, deliberation concerns voice — and, crucially, whose voice matters. Tandon’s engagement with deliberative democratic theory is respectful yet revisionist. Habermasian ideals of reasoned consensus are treated as aspirational rather than portable, strained by structural inequality. In municipal assemblies, deliberation is patterned by authority: who speaks first, who commands attention, whose claims are legitimised. Marginalised citizens may be present without influence, audible without consequence. Deliberation risks becoming procedural affirmation rather than substantive redistribution of voice. Yet Tandon does not abandon deliberation as a democratic practice. Instead, she broadens its normative horizon. Drawing on second-generation deliberative theory, she legitimises emotion, self-interest, and strategic speech as components of democratic reasoning. Deliberation becomes a contested exchange rather than a purified rationality. The common good, if it appears, emerges provisionally: negotiated rather than presumed. One of the book’s most original contributions lies in its treatment of fiscal decentralisation. Money is not merely a resource but a language through which priorities are articulated and participation structured. The devolution of budgetary authority transforms deliberation into distributive politics. Citizens attend assemblies not simply to speak but to secure roads, water systems, clinics, schools. Voice is tethered to material expectation. This proximity intensifies engagement while sharpening conflict. Fiscal autonomy thus amplifies the stakes of deliberation without guaranteeing its equity. Local representatives emerge as paradoxical figures: empowered yet constrained, accountable yet insulated. Tandon resists binary judgments, showing instead how fiscal decentralisation deepens democratic possibility while exposing institutional fragility. Threaded through the book is a sustained interrogation of the ‘common good’. Revered in theory and suspect in practice, the concept is neither discarded nor sanctified. In unequal societies, appeals to the common good can obscure asymmetries of sacrifice. Empirically, deliberation proceeds through articulated self-interests: neighbourhood demands, caste claims, gendered priorities. Far from undermining democracy, these claims animate it. Self-interest becomes deliberation’s motor rather than its negation. The book thus advances a quiet ethical argument: democracy does not require the transcendence of interest, but its articulation under conditions of mutual visibility. The common good, if it exists, is emergent, fragile, and revisable. Institutions, for Tandon, are moral technologies. Laws mandate participation, but they cannot generate trust, courage, or equality. Procedural compliance may coexist with substantive exclusion. Yet repetition matters. Even imperfect fora can cultivate habits of speaking and being heard. Deliberative democracy, the book suggests, is not an event but a discipline, learned slowly, unevenly, and reversibly. Federalism is less a solution than a condition: one that opens space for democratic learning without securing its outcome. Firmly grounded in Nepal’s political history, the book resists parochialism. Nepal functions as a mirror, reflecting broader dilemmas of democratic deepening across unequal societies. Comparative resonances with Brazil, India, and donor-driven governance reforms are handled without formula or prescription. Nepal is neither an exemplar nor an exception. It is a site where democracy reveals its ordinary difficulties. The prose mirrors the argument: careful, analytic, resistant to grand claims. What lingers is not a verdict but a sensibility: an attentiveness to democracy’s tempo. Deliberative democracy appears less as consensus achieved than as disagreement sustained without rupture. In an age of democratic impatience, Tandon offers a quieter ethic. Democracy must be allowed to think slowly, to falter, and to learn. This book stands as a thoughtful companion to that discipline, reminding us that democratic transformation often occurs far from the centre, in places where speaking itself remains an achievement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127090112_4bd0fdb8c4ef4e44c21e9cba4ae63a8481ca1d61bb20f716b29f649bcdf1a4bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260127090112_4bd0fdb8c4ef4e44c21e9cba4ae63a8481ca1d61bb20f716b29f649bcdf1a4bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Federalism book details NT"> </figure>  Aftab Husain is a Pakistan-born poet and literary and cultural critic. He teaches South Asian literature and culture at the University of Vienna.

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Nepal’s AI-generated election

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