On a certain February morning earlier this year, we gathered in the drawing room of a friend, reading through the drafts of a set of four books for children, by Luja Mathema. The books, “Unstoppable Women Series” features four Nepali women who are icons of courage, intelligence and perseverance. It was the first time I was seeing books for children on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/50-outstanding-women-of-nepal">female figures from Nepal</a>. Our friend Prawin Adhikari, who also translated the books from English into Nepali, had made available his space so that Luja, Iva Maharjan, and I could join him to proofread the books, created over a period of 18 months. Across a slow day, punctuated by coffees and teas, we read the stories about these four women: Entrepreneur<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ambica-shrestha-1933-2024-9kaynjv7"> Late Ambica Shrestha</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-singing-nun-is-a-hit-in-china">Ani Choying Drolma</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-goal-is-empowerment-and-independence-of-women">Jurist Sapana Pradhan Malla</a>, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/pasang-lhamu-sherpa-the-film">Mountaineer Late Pasang Lhamu Sherpa</a>. The first book I picked was the one on Ani Choying Drolma, someone I had met through my work as a journalist. The first time I saw her, she was sat on the floor of a raised platform inside a hall at Yak and Yeti, performing to an audience to raise funds for the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18218">Aryatara School for nuns</a>. I was a rookie reporter and it was one of my first stories. But seated on the floor as Ani’s chants filled the room I felt I had been removed to someplace else. I had been taken on an inward journey, not just one of music but one of profound gratitude. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7229#.YVVcFC8w3u0">Pilgrim's progress</a>, Alexandra Alter I went back to the newsroom, holding three DV tapes to edit, not knowing how I would fit the story of such force in a two-minute broadcast. But I did anyway. Between my news editor Binod Bhattarai and I, we came up with the title, “the singing nun”, for the story. A colleague from The Kathmandu Post came over to watch the tapes and write the story-- he would call her the singing nun, too. Anchor story, Page 1. The experience of writing/producing a story can shift something in you. Covering Ani's performance was such an experience for me. I came away feeling braver. It is this change that Luja hopes to inspire in children through the books she has written. Between proofing, I had asked Luja what had drawn her to write the books and she said she had written them for her daughter, because she found that when buying books, she was hardly ever able to find books about female heroes. So, she felt the need to write them herself!&nbsp; “I want my daughter, as well as the children of Nepal and all over to learn about these individuals and their positive impact in our society,” says Luja whoa lso works as a Gender and Communications consultant outside of her writing career. “I want the children to be encouraged, excited, and hopeful. Having access to such stories at a young age is crucial to increase children’s awareness about all the possibilities in the world.” Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Israeli-authors-in-Nepal,4223#google_vignette">Imagining better futures</a>, Duksangh Sherpa A couple of years ago, I was watching an animated film with my nephew, which had a female ship captain as the lead. I recall how fascinated my nephew was while watching the film. He had many questions about the character. One of the things he asked me was how come he had never watched a film with “girl captains” before? So, it is these beginnings that count and it is what excites me about Luja’s books. Spending a day proofing her books is the only time I’ve ever met Luja. But in those few hours, I was fascinated by her drive to get the books done and to put them out on the shelves for children to come find them. “I hope that both children and parents enjoy the stories of these unstoppable women from Nepal,” says Luja. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/for-children-about-children">For children, about children</a>, Ashish Dhakal The second book I picked to proof from the set was the one on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/ambica-shrestha-92-442e9mix">Ambica Shrestha</a>, who was still among us when we were reading together that day. When we come to the part where she arrives in Darjeeling and joins Loreto Convent, there’s an illustration of her looking out through the window of the convent with a friend. At that, I teared up and I suppose there was a catch in my voice. I had met Ambica Shrestha for the first time at a Loreto alumni meeting. And every time I met her after that, she said hello. What I really took away from seeing her each time was the way she carried herself-- always so tall in the things she did and never afraid. As a fellow alumna, I hoped I had somehow inherited some of her traits. The common thread that binds the four books is the determination and strength of character of all the four women featured. The text is replete with anecdotes of inner strength that helped them forge unique paths.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240901080948_aab1f583e5c1f37f5f69fc48d44dd6b9fdf29a3e9b6348180bff197d16435b70.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240901080948_aab1f583e5c1f37f5f69fc48d44dd6b9fdf29a3e9b6348180bff197d16435b70" data-rendition-name="original" width="1426" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Passing the baton on, books on female figures from Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Luja Mathema and her books.</figcaption> </figure>  The books series by Luja reminds one of the <a href="https://www.rebelgirls.com/products/good-night-stories-for-rebel-girls">Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls</a> series, stories about girls from around the world who went on to do great things. The marvel in doing so is that even when one might only be doing it for oneself sometimes, the drive and the courage eventually serves as inspiration for others. And while Luja’s attempt in bringing these books together was rooted in the intent to gift them to her own daughter, she has gone on to set substantial precedents for others to create books about Nepali women. The books are illustrated by artists <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/365-is-not-just-a-number">Prakash Ranjit</a>, Shaili Malla and Nhuja Shakya. Shaili captures some details of Boudha in the illustrations that you would only notice if you grew up in the vicinity. Nhuja’s illustration on the last page of the book on Pasang Lhamu is steeped in pathos, and yet salvages the book from what might have been a dreary ending. And on a personal note, Prakash’s drawings of LC, makes me want to visit Darjeeling. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-foeticide-to-football">Female foeticide to football</a>, Srijana Singh Thakuri What I like most about these books is that they are bilingual. The Nepali and the English text appear alongside each other on each page. From my experience of reading to my nephew at bedtime, I do wish that the font size had been larger and more eye-friendly. Regardless, I can’t wait to bring the books home to my nephew, so I can share with him the stories of the Unstoppable Ambica, Ani, Pasang and Sapana. The books, published by Nepalaya, will be launched in Kathmandu on September 1, 2024. Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

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The Unstoppables

<figure><img width="2048" height="1536" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101144/63720e669c7e80680e0b7915jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Gita Adhikari giving sewing machines to women from the Muslim community.</figcaption></figure>Gita Adhikari, the deputy mayor of Damak, quit her job as assistant campus chief of Damak Multiple Campus when she was nominated by the UML to run in the 2017 local elections.  Adhikari says she will complete the reform work that she initiated by running for mayor in this <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/think-nationally-vote-locally/">May's elections</a>. “I am running for mayor this election,” says Adhikari, “There is no Plan B.” In Nepalganj, deputy mayor Uma Thapa Magar founded and has led a collective of deputy mayors and chairs from eight municipalities across Banke that meets regularly to facilitate interpersonal as well as district-wide cooperation between local representatives and bodies. “My five year term gives me the experience to run for mayor this time,” says Magar, who was a journalist before entering politics. Vice-chair Ekmaya BK, of Banke’s Khajura village is banking on voters to recognise her accomplishments during the election in May and vote her to the leadership position. “I am confident that my constituents who have closely followed my work will make the right decision at the polls,” says BK.Sarala Bolkhe of Bakaiya village in Makwanpur was elected vice-chair even as her running mate lost the chairmanship to their challengers, and is positive that she will be voted in as chairperson this time. <figure><img width="503" height="545" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101144/63720e6a9c7e80680e0b7916jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Meanwhile, Parvati Sunuwar, the vice-chairperson of Sindhuli’s Fikal rural Municipality who oversaw progress in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/birth-and-death-during-a-pandemic/">maternal health</a> as well as women’s participation in her village, is banking on residents to vote her in as chairperson after having unsuccessfully run for chairperson in 2017.A recent survey conducted by the <a href="https://tarangini.org.np/">Tarangini Foundation</a>, a women's rights training center, found that 80% of the 200 women holding deputy mayor and deputy chief positions want to run for the top position in the 2022 elections in May.These female local government representatives have been encouraged by the success of local government projects under their leadership, particularly ones that have focused on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/women-leaders-set-example-for-rest-of-nepal/">socio-economic empowerment of women in their communities</a>, as well as the inclusion of underserved and vulnerable communities in local-level development.In Jhapa’s Damak, community schools are being adapted for female students and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/changing-disability-to-this-ability/">persons with disabilities</a>. A state level disability rehabilitation center is also in the works. Women in Damak have been trained in manufacturing Dhaka, while the local government prepares to create a market for the goods.Such work has been made easier because vice-chairs are in-charge of the local government’s budget committees. “A third of our budget is allocated for vulnerable groups, and we spend 22% of the earmarked funds for the socio-economic empowerment and awareness of women,” says deputy mayor Adhikari.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-local-governments-lead-from-the-front/">Nepal’s local governments lead from the front</a>, Masta KCIn Bajhang’s Thalara Rural Municipality, vice-chair Gangudevi Khadayat set about forming women’s groups across the village as soon as she was elected. "I personally attend the women’s group meetings so that I have a firsthand account of the problems that the women face,” Khadayat says. Some of residents of this municipality belonging to the Gandharva and Wadi communities had been involved in sex work, and several of them had been reduced to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/to-beg-borrow-of-steal/">begging</a>. Under Khadayat's leadership, more than 400 men from these communities are now daily wage workers, while women operate small businesses. The Chhau sheds where <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/">women are traditionally banished during menstruation</a> have also all been demolished.In Nuwakot’s Dupcheshwor village, vice-chair Anju Acharya formed women’s groups as soon as she was elected, conducting awareness programs as skill-based training to counter unemployment in her constituency.“We have begun to identify and involve members of the community in alternative forms of employment,” says Acharya. “The work may not be tangible as some of the bigger infrastructure projects, but the income and self-reliance this has afforded our community is tremendous.” <figure><img width="2048" height="1152" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101144/63720e6c9c7e80680e0b7917jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Jumla's Tila Rural Municipality has focused on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/covid-undermines-nepals-mother-child-gains/">maternal and child health</a>, collecting data on pregnant women and children up to two years old. Tila vice-chair Vishnu Budha, runs a program to provide nutritious food to pregnant women and winter clothes for children, and runs a 'nutrition message' program to make families aware of the services that the local government provides. The municipality provides incentives to families that have undergone permanent sterilisation after having one child, which has directly contributed to the decreasing numbers of children with malnutrition in the village.“We were also able to end the practice of Chhau after many awareness and discussion programs with male family members, as well as other local leaders and healers in the community,” explains Buda.One of the more significant achievements of local government in Nepal has been constitutionally mandated three-member Judicial Committees which has granted the power to local Deputy Chiefs who head the committees to resolve 13 types of civil and 11 other types of minor disputes through reconciliation without cases having to be taken to court.Read  also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people/">Local government by the people, for the people, of the people</a>, Ramesh KumarIn Dhangadi, Deputy Mayor Sushila Mishra Bhatt played a significant role in introducing the Gender Equality and Social Inclusion Policy 2020 before the federal government issued a similar nation-wide policy a few months later. Bhatta’s government has particularly focused on mobilising the judicial committee in her constituency. “The responsibility of our judicial committee is not just limited to sending petitions to court, but to serve those seeking justice who have been unable to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-transition-to-peace-needs-justice/">access Nepal’s judicial mechanism</a> in the first place,” says Bhatta. “Social and legal awareness and mobilisation are our top priority.”"We have spoken to many victims of domestic violence for hours—such calls and interactions often go on late into the night,” adds Dhangadi’s Deputy Chief Bhatta.These women-led judicial committees have been able to solve disagreements across the country, from settling land and financial disputes in Siraha to reconciling families on the verge of separation and divorce through counselling services in Bardia. They have also prevented child marriage in Panchthar and addressing domestic violence in Doti.Bhatta, the deputy mayor of Dhangadi, handles disputes in the Judicial Committee, monitors ongoing community projects every fiscal year, meets with dozens of other sub-committees, all the while participating in various state-level programs.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-women-envoys-make-a-mark/">Nepal’s women envoys make a mark</a>, Pratistha Rijal“Although they have had to juggle many responsibilities under the federal system, from solving disputes as heads of the judicial committees, Nepal’s women deputy mayors and chiefs have done an incredible job so far,” says Prabha Baral, head of the central women's department of the Nepal Municipal Association and mayor of Chitwan’s Rapti municipality. Across Nepal’s local levels, most women deputies are now sufficiently trained and equipped to lead their villages and municipalities. In 2017, most women were relegated to being a deputy because political parties were only looking to fulfill a requirement: to nominate token women either to the position of chair or deputy chair of the local governments. But this time, following their performance in the last five years, many women deputies now command the attention of both the political parties and voters in the lead up to the second local elections under the federal government on 13 May.Says National Assembly member Bimala Rai Paudyal: “Had our Constitution not made it mandatory for women to be involved in local governments, these important and impactful developments would have been limited to mere words on paper.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-moving-nepals-climate-activism/">Women moving Nepal’s climate activism</a>, Sewa BhattaraiJanmakanya Khatri, who was elected the vice-chair of Jumla’s Sinja Rural Municipality in 2017, is one of many locally-elected officials who has not had any formal education.“Girls were not sent to school when I was a child,” says Khatri, who travels across her village to spread awareness about the importance of educating women. “I have always felt that I would be respected more had I been able to read and write.”Sinja is among eight rural municipalities in Jumla. Along with Khatri, three other deputy chairs in the Kankasundari, Guthichaur and Patrasi deputy chairs have not received any formal education. Khatri says her inability to read and write has severely hampered her ability to do her job. “There have been many laws and policies made for the local level, but to me, those words on paper might as well be a foreign language,” she adds. What worries her most is making decisions and signing documents based on second-hand information, as others dictate important documents and directives. Khatri is constantly plagued by worry over whether she has made sound decisions.Khatri is adamant that educated women from Nepal’s rural communities be given the opportunity to run for political leadership in May.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/women-leaders-set-example-for-rest-of-nepal/">Women leaders set example for rest of Nepal</a>, Laxmi BasnetIn constituencies across Karnali and Madhes, local leaders who are unable to read and write have been hoodwinked by other parties.Advocate Indu Tuladhar, who has been working for the rights of Nepal’s locally elected officials, identifies illiteracy as the major reason that prevents elected officials from doing their jobs."There has long been debate about whether academic qualification should be a criteria for those who decide to run for office,” says Tuladhar. “ Nepal’s political parties require a deeper understanding of the role education plays in local governance.” Nunuta Rai and Krishnamaya Upadhyaya contributed to this report.Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published on Himalkhabar monthly. Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/all-politics-is-local/">All politics is local</a>, Sahina Shrestha

Deputies drive development in rural Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3519c7e80680e096647jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>Jyoti was standing just outside the gate when I stepped out. I walked past her hurriedly, on my way out to work. She caught up with me.Hello, I said.Hello, she smiled.My father is asking if you will tuition me, she asked.Tuition, what? I asked in return. I’m not sure.Oh, if you will teach me.Teach you what? I laughed lightly.Teach me. She smiled again.I said: Okay. Let me think about it. Let’s talk about this later?I smiled and she smiled back.Rushing to work, I kept thinking about how she had beamed when I had said okay. And inside my head I was already starting to plan what I could ‘teach’ her. The opportunity that had presented itself to me drummed an excitement in me. I was being given this chance to influence a young mind and how much I could do to help her discover.I could not stop smiling to myself. Book, books, I thought. I could begin with a book. I rummaged through my bookshelf in my mind. What would an 11-year-old want to read? Maybe stories about birds or dogs? Or about women role models? Or maybe a book of short-stories. Or maybe a comic book?When I was 11, one of my uncles had given me a book. Here, he had said, presenting it to me. Pretty As You Please (365 Recipes for Young Ladies). Read it when your period comes, he had said. And it did come soon after.The book had exactly 365 chapters, beginning with what it means to be a lady. So, a lady was what a woman was not, which introduced the idea of ‘class’.The book had a list of instructions on a number of things: how a young lady should sit, how she must speak, how she must walk. A lady is never supposed to sit like a man, she must sit with her legs together. She must speak with her voice calm and low, and walk in the same manner, calmly. Never run!The book also prescribed the correct way to laugh. Do not open your mouth and laugh like boys do. Laugh softly and wave your hand before you, just so that you can hide your embarrassment a little.Years later, I had retrieved the book from a box of old things and dumped it into the carton going out to trash. i am not a pretty girl. that is not what i do.The book did have a couple of useful tips though -- exercises for menstrual cramp, and on how to ask a male friend not to touch you. But do it politely, it said. I can barely recall what else the book had, but what I do remember is that I had gobbled the book down.At that time, I heard the term ‘act like a lady’ so often in school that I was convinced that was the only way to behave. Never sit with your legs spread out. Be kind, polite and gentle—all very well, but also to male friends who touch you in ways you do not like?So, when a boy punched me, I would say ‘ow’ in pain but never retaliate. When a family friend tripped me on Holi and pinned me down to the marble floor, the cold, hardness of it stinging my back, while he put abir on my face, again, I did not retaliate.When another boy slammed my head with a water-filled balloon and when the balloon fell on the road without bursting, I merely crushed it under my feet so that he would not pick it and use it against me again. I did not pick it and throw it back at him or tell him he was being a jerk. I had to be polite, right? Even in my aggressions. That is what the book said. And I had read the book too many times.In those days, my access to books was limited to the Enid Blytons. And while mysteries were still my genre, Nancy Drew Case Files were still not allowed because she had a boyfriend. And Agatha Christie, you could read a page or two in the library, but not borrow. So yes, I read Pretty as you Please on repeat, until I knew some recipes by heart: A good girl takes care of everyone around her.It was a while before Nancy Drews and other books happened. But it was not until I turned 14 that I met Little Women. I won the book as a prize. Spelling competition. And it was then that my impulse to run was validated. It was possible to be a girl and want to only read and write and not cling to a man, like Jo March -- the girl who changed the lives of millions of young women.Over the years, though, I find myself gravitating towards the idea of Aunt March. I’ve often wished I could have one to whisk me out of certain situations, but now, I want to become one. For Jos. Maybe for Jyoti.I make a mental list of books for her. I imagine explaining books to Jyoti. I plan assignments for her. She will be rewarded with a new book every time she finishes her assignment.Her first assignment will be around A House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. When I hand her the book, I will ask her to open to the chapter, ‘A house of my own’ and ask her to read aloud:Not a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man’s houseNot a daddy’s. A house all my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my stories. My two shoes waiting beside the bed. Nobody to shake a stick at. Nobody’s garbage to pick up after. Only a house quiet as a snow, a space for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem.I surmise at Jyoti’s surprise and the sense of familiarity the words might evoke in her as she reads. I imagine she will shut the book and look at me and smile at me in acknowledgement. And I smile to myself.Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in the author’s life.

Write fearlessly, she said

https://youtu.be/3q459iYj9HAAshna Lama flips a black folio. Each page has a stark female figure in white. Some standing up, others sitting, some lying down or meditating.The flowy edges enclose shards and squiggles, as if hiding a deep hurt within. The drawings seem to signify how women try to keep their pain inside, while keeping a bubbly facade.Ashna Lama herself is a chirpy 21-year-old who laughs a lot, makes self-deprecating jokes in her singsong voice. Few can tell that this cheery face masks a difficult struggle with anxiety attacks and depression.Lama grew up in an artistic family with the smell of acrylic and turpentine. She sketched from a young age, expressing her sadness in art. The current series ‘The Fragility of Anxiety’ was drawn in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/its-all-in-the-mind/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">2015 after the earthquake when she had panic attacks</a>, and was put on medication.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/its-all-in-the-mind/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's all in the mind</a>, Sonia Awale“I was traumatised, I didn’t speak to anyone for four days. There were a lot of thoughts running through my mind,” recalls Lama. “Then I turned to my sketchbook and started drawing, and these figures just flowed. When I concentrated on sketching I didn’t think of anything else, and the focus calmed me down.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110714114/636902b49c7e80680e037c7cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="572" height="1024"/><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110714114/636902b69c7e80680e037c7djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="575" height="1024">Three years later, Ashna is ready to exhibit the sketches alongside her own poetry at the one-day exhibition at Hotel Annapurna on August 12. Lama says the black pages of the notebook spoke to her, and resonated with her art. She describes her <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/all-in-mind/the-silent-scream-depression-is-common-but-only-few-get-treatment,588" target="_blank" rel="noopener">bouts of depression</a> as “spiraling into blackness”.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=10636&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">All in the family</a> , Prakriti Kandel<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-art-of-healing/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Art has historical association with mental health</a>. Frieda Kahlo painted self portraits to deal with debilitating injuries, Monet was highly anxious, Picasso was said to be schizophrenic, and Van Gogh depressed and bi-polar. Lama says her art is also a reflection of her inner turmoil.“When the pressure cooker is about to burst and the whistle goes off, the steam is art. If it is too much to handle, I draw," says Lama, adding it was not easy to decide to share her work and open up about her deepest emotions. But she decided to go for it to spread awareness of mental health in Nepal, and break the taboos.Lama found out she was getting too dependent on medication. Once, having lost her pills she started banging her head on walls, hoping she would pass out. The drawings have helped her get off medication, and she says many others with mental health issues may also need an outlet for expression.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=10647&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Raising children can be a therapy</a>, Ketan Dulal<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110714114/636902b99c7e80680e037c7ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1381"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After she came out to talk publicly about her affliction, Lama found many opened up too. They were lonely, and felt as if they were the only ones suffering. It helped to share.“Mental health is so little understood in Nepal. There is so much stigma, and I want to generate some discussion through this exhibition. It is for people who appreciate the effort it takes to bare your innermost soul to an outsider,” says Lama.Once a science student and a part-time model, she decided to take a clean break and enrolled in an art school in Florence. She says formally studying art in the city of Michelangelo, Botticelli, Raphael, and Dante gave more definition to her form of expression. She also paints commissioned work where she digresses from signature black to dabble in rainbow hues.The future? Lama wants to return to Nepal and learn thangka painting: “I want to sweat it out, grinding gemstones to make colours, using the techniques to make my own kind of art.”It would be a homecoming for Ashna Lama, shedding black for the vividness of life in her own country.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=10641&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Addicted to the joystick</a>, Suprasanna AryalThe Fragility of AnxietyHotel Annapurna 12 August, 4:30-6:30PM<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110714114/636902bc9c7e80680e037c7fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="917"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110714114/636902bf9c7e80680e037c80jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="921">

Ashna comes out of the black

It was 30 years ago this month that investment into ‘Baby Arun’, the 201MW first phase of the run-of-river Arun III project, was brought to a screeching halt when the World Bank officially withdrew its support. This brought about profound and fundamental changes in the way Nepal’s power sector subsequently developed. Nepalis suffered debilitating power outages between 2008-2016 due to shortages attributable to the cancellation. At the same time, the gap left by Baby Arun was filled by private sector investment in ways that were not obvious in 1995. It took 30 years, but in many ways Nepal’s power sector is more healthy today than it has ever been, and likely better than if the project was built as planned. At a projected budget of $1.08 billion, Baby Arun would have cost the equivalent of Nepal’s entire annual government expenditure in 1995. It was to be funded by concessional grants and loans from multilateral and bilateral funders, including the World Bank, Asian Development Bank (ADB), KfW, and investment by the government itself. At the time, Nepal’s total electricity generation capacity was only 230MW, and the trajectory of the power sector changed dramatically following the cancellation. In the past 30 years, $5.4 billion has been invested in the power sector led by private investors, and much of it from domestic banks and pension funds (table, right).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="984" height="521" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Nearly 70% of the new megawatts generated were by private independent power producers (IPP) in the past 30 years, while the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) and its subsidiary companies added 30% of new capacity. Almost 80% of total debt financing came from domestic banks and employee retirement funds. International assistance for power generation dropped dramatically over this time, accounting for only about 15% of investment. Before 1995 new power projects used to be entirely dependent on foreign aid. Since 1995, 63% of new generation came from 171 small hydropower projects with an average capacity of 12MW, while 4% was from 21 solar photovoltaic and biomass projects developed by local IPPs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="503" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Over three decades, investment in Nepal’s power supply came primarily from new actors that had never before been involved in this sector. The rate of electrification rose from 10% to close to 100% -- sufficient to meet domestic needs during most of the year, and in 2024 made Nepal a net exporter of power to India for the first time in its history. As practically all the new investment in this period went into run-of-river hydro and solar projects, rather than into hydropower reservoirs with seasonal storage, Nepal continues to rely on imports from India during the dry winter months. Surplus electricity generation for export during the monsoon is slated to grow rapidly as another 200 solar and hydro projects are nearing completion of construction, with over 5,000MW of power capacity. Private Power The cancellation of Baby Arun inadvertently accelerated the entry of the private sector into Nepal’s power generation. The government enacted the Electricity Act in 1992 to attract private IPPs and diversify away from total dependence from international aid, but had been struggling for several years to conclude the first agreement with the 60MW Khimti Project. There remained a large gap between the tariff that the government thought was reasonable versus what was demanded by the Norwegian investor Statkraft, and the private sector arms of the World Bank and ADB that were financing the project. The shock of World Bank withdrawal from Baby Arun put tremendous pressure on the government, then led by the UML as it is now. The Bank’s decision to terminate its involvement was ostensibly, at least partially, taken in response to a letter critiquing the project sent by the UML while it was in the opposition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347" data-rendition-name="original" width="949" height="446" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>BAD NEWS: Newspaper clippings from the early 90s on tender announcement ahead of loan approval (left) and secrecy surrounding environmental assessment (centre) of Arun III before its eventual cancellation in August 1995.</figcaption> </figure>  The government was forced to soften its position and agree to the investors’ terms following the cancellation of Baby Arun. It directed NEA to sign a power purchase agreement (PPA) with Khimti. It was concluded in January 1996, and this was followed by a second PPA in July 1996 with Panda Energy, the American developer of the 45MW Upper Bhotekosi project. The expensive USD-denominated agreements to buy power from two international private producers, with price escalation clauses tied to the New York Consumer Price Index, sent alarm bells ringing. There was worry that the country was heading towards unaffordable tariff rates for the consumer and potential bankruptcy for NEA as a result of inevitable future weakening of the Nepali Rupee. The government had strong-armed NEA into signing these agreements, and realised that concessionary financing terms that Nepal was used to receiving for public sector projects such as Baby Arun and Kali Gandaki A, that included below-market interest rates and 40 years repayment period with a 10 year grace period before starting repayment, were not the norm for private sector investors. Nepal’s status as a less than attractive destination for foreign investment meant that the country had few options but to accept expensive dollar PPAs from international developers with the high commercial interest rates and short repayment periods imposed by their banks because of high investment risks. In the end, the government ended up having to additionally provide a sovereign guarantee in order to close the deal at the insistence of the lenders – committing it to repayment in case NEA defaulted on paying the IPPs. It is reasonable to assume that the extraordinarily high political cost of agreeing to the PPA terms would have meant that no government would have willingly agreed to them in 1995 had it not suffered the trauma of the loss of concessionary-financed public sector projects as large as the Baby Arun. It has taken NEA 25 years to consider offering dollar-denominated PPAs again: to cover the foreign exchange portion of the investment in the 216MW Upper Trisuli-1 and 120MW Rasuwa-Bhotekosi Hydropower projects. It seemed unlikely at the time, but it turned out that the dire situation Nepal found itself in 1995 planted the seed to mobilise investment for affordable power from within the country. Double Whammy After the dual shock of first losing investment in Baby Arun and having to sign expensive power purchase agreements with international IPPs, the first proposal for an alternative strategy to mitigate the risk of foreign currency investment into hydropower projects came from a group of engineers within the Arun III team at NEA. Led by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4900">Deputy Director Damber Bahadur Nepali,</a> engineers convinced the leadership that NEA needed to invest in a subsidiary company to build a series of locally-designed and domestically-financed projects that would have lower cost with rupee-denominated PPAs. They registered the Chilime Hydropower Company Limited (CHCL) in October 1995 with 51% shares from NEA, 25% from its employees, and 24% available for the general public, 10% of which was prioritised for local residents at the project site. The 22.1MW project is in Rasuwa on a tributary of the Trisuli, and mobilised debt financing from the Employee Provident Fund, which manages retirement savings for employees of the government, public enterprises, and private sector institutions. CHCL’s experience showed that NEA employees themselves believed that individual hydropower projects with operational independence from NEA could be developed profitably in Nepal by its own engineers -- and they were willing to put their own money on the line. Chilime also demonstrated that there was money in the country, particularly with retirement funds, looking for opportunities for long-term investments. Following completion of Chilime in 2003, CHCL led the formation of three other NEA subsidiary companies that completed construction in 2023 and 2024, producing 168.3MW using fully rupee-tied investment. NEA’s largest subsidiary, the Upper Tamakosi Hydropower Limited, completed construction of its 456MW plant in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1571" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>DAMNED: The $700 million 456MW Upper Tamakosi built entirely with domestic funds before it was destroyed by the September floods last year. </figcaption> </figure>  There were some delays and cost overruns on this run-of-river project, the largest in the country with a final cost of over $700 million -- all of it sourced domestically. The five subsidiary companies launched by NEA have produced almost two times as much new power as NEA has over the past 30 years. Seven other NEA subsidiaries are currently constructing projects to add another 474MW to the national grid. But even more important than NEA subsidiaries have been local IPPs: Nepali companies which have over the past three decades enthusiastically entered the hydropower sector. From a regulatory perspective, the credit for mobilising domestic private investment to engage in power generation goes to Minister of Water Resources Shailaja Acharya, who in 1998 offered a flat feed-in-tariff of Rs4/kWh for hydropower projects under 10MW. This upfront offer removed a major barrier that early developers had faced of having to spend money to carry out a detailed feasibility study before they could even start tariff negotiations with NEA. She had laid the foundation stone of the Chilime project, and proved to be the champion of opening up the sector for domestic IPPs. The guarantee of a PPA with a fixed tariff, irrespective of project specifications, gave small power developers the confidence to apply for survey licenses and invest in feasibility studies so they could directly approach commercial banks and make a case for their project producing required revenue to repay loans. Domestic IPPs started adding power to the national grid in 2002. Their contribution was initially modest, and first projects were small and commercial lenders who took time to be confident about providing debt financing to a sector which had previously not been considered suitable for private sector investment. While the first 10 years were slow, with less than 10MW being added to the grid each year, this increased twenty fold over the following ten years, resulting in the equivalent of a Baby Arun being added by Nepali IPPs to the grid each year. A total of 84 IPPs added 232MW, 328 MW, 454MW, and 400MW of new generation to the grid in 2021-2024 (graph). There was explosive, exponential growth as domestic developers have surged ahead to account for 76% of the new megawatts added to the grid since 2020, compared to 24% by NEA and its subsidiary companies. The megawatts that IPPs are adding have followed the classic ‘hockey stick curve’ with the ‘breakout point’, signaling the rapid growth phase in 2020. Private producers are expected to accelerate new generation in the coming years with 300 solar and hydropower projects adding 11,000MW. Another 166 hydropower and 96 solar projects are currently in the survey stage, and are in line to add another 11,000MW to the construction pipeline. One major challenge is finding financing required for the projects. Domestic investment will no longer be sufficient to finance this ambitious pipeline of renewable energy projects. Project developers as well as NEA and the Electricity Regulatory Commission will have to leverage their substantial experience accumulated through the construction of over 200 projects to attract regional and international investment and hedge the risks of dollar-denominated PPAs. Following the cancellation of Baby Arun, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Nepal developed a highly distributed power sector</a>. The national electricity grid is currently supplied with power from a remarkably decentralised array of hundreds of hydropower and solar photovoltaic projects spread across 43 districts and all seven provinces.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1228" height="867" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  This presents a sharp contrast to the pathway of a few large public sector hydropower projects with a sprinkling of private sector projects that was envisioned as part of NEA’s investment planning when Baby Arun was being considered the front runner for investment. The strategy then was to allow public sector investment in a few large hydropower projects with thermal plants to fill the gap. Knowing what we know now about acceleration of climate change impacts and increased extreme weather events, following this path would have made Nepal’s power sector highly vulnerable. Decentralised generation greatly improves the resilience of Nepal’s power supply as damage to power plants in one part of the country need not affect other areas that have their own generation. Following the investment plan where over two thirds of the country’s power supply would have come from power plants on the Arun River, would have greatly imperiled Nepal’s energy security. All rivers in Nepal are susceptible to flooding from cloudbursts made more frequent by climate change. The Arun River which is fed by glaciers in Tibet is also at risk to glacial lake outburst floods. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal. <h2>Decentralised and Diversified</h2> In the 30 years since the cancellation of ‘Baby Arun’: Hydropower projects constructed cover capacities ranging from less than 1MW to 456MW and developed by IPPs from across the country with strong local involvement in purchasing equity shares. Renewable energy sources contributed to the generation mix through solar IPPs that further contribute to climate resilience, and cover shortfalls during low rainfall. The government is committed to solar contributing 10% of the power on the grid. Increasing solar beyond this target and providing incentives to project developers to invest in utility-scale battery storage would further improve resilience. BIG ARUN: The 900MW Arun III project under construction since 2018 at Num in Sankhuwasabha (pictured, below) is a separate initiative by a different project developer using a different financing modality. The ‘Baby Arun’ version of Arun III was cancelled in 1995.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> </figure>

30 years after Baby Arun

This is the 72nd 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. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

The flower guy

It cannot be a coincidence that after pushing bills to constrict freedom of expression and allow greater <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/security-or-espionage">surveillance of citizens</a>, Nepal’s government is now tightening controls on civil society.
In a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/command-and-control">series of recent moves</a> journalists have been sued for contempt of court, imprisoned for YouTube videos, or ordered by courts to desist from investigating corrupt officials.
An amendment to the Print and Publications Act that would hand the power to shut online media to the Chief District Officer (CDO). Another draft Bill would allow a political appointee to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke a journalist’s license. The draft counter-intelligence Bill would let random officials to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens.
Now comes yet another draft Bill that would replace the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> with direct government control over registration, regulation, and management of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities. There are more than 54,000 NGOs, 200 international NGOs registered with the SWC.
The draft makes civil society organisations needlessly jump through hoops to carry out work that complements the government in the social sector. Critics say the Bill was drafted without any consultation with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-rights-groups-must-step-up-4r4z6ck4">civic groups</a>.
“This Bill’s content is questionable whether it intends to allow for civil society organisations in Nepal a free space to operate,” concludes Dr SP Kalaunee, Country Representative of BlinkNow Foundation and Chair of the Association of International NGOs in Nepal (AIN). “The draft seems oriented towards controling rather than facilitating the work of civil society organisations.”
The Bill will be open for feedback from the public, and integrates the National Directives Act (1961), Association Registration Act (1977), and the Social Welfare Act (1992) and proposes dissolving the SWC and replacing it with a new Social Welfare Department under the Ministry of Women, Children and Senior Citizens.
Non-government groups will now be required to get approval from the Registrar Office, the CDO or the provincial government depending on their area of operation. Those working across provinces will have to get permission from the federal government. &nbsp;
The government says the Bill is intended to vet organisations to see if they are engaged in espionage, violate national security, assist a foreign state, commit treason, cause strife between federal units, or incite communal violence.&nbsp;
CSOs working in Nepal have long called for legislation to better facilitate their work, minimise administrative and bureaucratic red tape which have posed operational challenges. But they are opposed to such drastic control.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-crow-and-the-scarecrow">The crow and the scarecrow</a>, Om Astha Rai
The NGO Federation of Nepal also issued a statement this week calling the Bill ‘retrograde and cumbersome’. It added: ‘Most of its provisions are intended to further constrain and control civil society organisations rather than facilitate and strengthen them, and reduce the role of citizen participation … it is an attack on our civil liberties, inclusivity, and transparency, and curtails our <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5156">democratic values and constitutional rights</a>.’ &nbsp;
<a href="about:blank">Nepal’s graduation</a> from least-developed country status next year may mean less aid for Nepal, and higher interest rates on loans from multilateral creditors. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">closure of USAID </a>and reduction in bilateral grants means the work of INGOs will be even more vital – especially to meet its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">SDG targets by 2030</a>.&nbsp;
“We are competing with other countries at a time when the global aid environment is shrinking, so the support we receive is directly dependent on a conducive environment for INGOs to operate and function,” says Kalaunee. “INGOs follow regulations of the nations they operate in, they will not protest or wait around for governments to change their minds or policies.”
Social safety net
Since 1977, the work of non-governmental actors in Nepal has been regulated by the Social Service National Coordination Council (SSNCC) chaired by Queen Aishwarya.
After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/one-moment-30-years-ago-today">1990 People’s Movement</a>, King Birendra set up the Social Welfare Council (SWC) as an autonomous body in 1992 through the Social Welfare Act. But since then the SWC has been dogged by controversy and allegations of corruption and extortion.
In 2018, the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA) filed a Rs315 million corruption case against 14 individuals, including the Minister of Women, Children and Social Welfare and SWC chair Badri Prasad Neupane and other officials for violating public procurement laws to rent out three hectares of its property around Bhrikuti Mandap.
Civil society groups have for years called for reforms in the SWC, and a report was drawn up to restructure it before this Bill proposed its dissolution. INGOs in particular will now have to go through the Social Welfare Department and multiple ministries for permissions.
A particularly objectionable provision in the draft stipulates that NGOs must have a Board of Director made up almost entirely of secretaries of various ministries. The NGO Federation has urged the government to take a civil society-friendly approach and not tangle its work in red tape and control. It says the government has no option but to revise the bill in its current form.
“Civil society organisations need an open space to operate, and an autonomous body to oversee them,” says Kalaunee. “Non-government organisations support in the areas prioritised by the government but by definition they cannot be a part of government.”

Big, beautiful Bills

Nepal’s leaders often make grandiose promises that they will turn the country into Switzerland within a decade. We will be lucky if Nepal could even attain the per capita GDP of Swaziland.
Becoming another Switzerland or Singapore is the boastful fantasy of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/politics-as-usual">incompetent serial politicians</a> who keep getting themselves elected again and again.&nbsp;
So, what has to change?&nbsp;
It has to be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/looking-ahead-to-nepal-s-2027-elections">through elections</a>, but there is spreading distrust of the democratic system bordering on nihilism among Nepalis. The three main parties must have sensed by now that they are doomed if they do not get their act together and inject new untainted blood into tickets in 2027.&nbsp;
One election will not clean up the muck that has accumulated over the past 35 years, but we have to start with the next one. Politics cannot be business as usual any more, voters are fed up with what is on offer.&nbsp;
Over <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/push-factors-driving-nepalis-out">one-third of young Nepalis are not even in Nepal</a>, and they are not allowed to cast their ballots. But we saw in 2022 that the diaspora can have an impact on how their folks vote back home, and this trend is bound to increase in 2027. It would finally break the vote banks on which the established parties have relied on to perpetuate misrule.
Nepal needs solutions urgently to address snowballing crises on multiple fronts: social inequity, joblessness and low purchasing power, failing agriculture, breakdown of services, a pandemic of corruption feeding mal-development, low capital formation, environmental woes, and to top it all off — a runaway climate emergency.&nbsp;
Yet, there are bright spots, many of which happened despite political instability: falling poverty rate, improved health and education status, increase in forest cover, conservation successes, growth in hydropower.&nbsp;
Just imagine how much further ahead Nepal would be if it was not plagued with chronic mismanagement, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/higher-corruption-in-high-places">corruption and conflict</a>.
It is because of these modest gains that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/not-poor-but-not-rich">Nepal will graduate</a> from a ‘least-developed’ to a ‘developing country’ in November 2026, and transition to middle-income status by 2030 — even though it still has an annual per capita income below the $1,306 threshold.
The driving force for this growth comes almost entirely from remittances which make up 26% of the GDP — the third highest in the world. Inflows officially hit $12.54 billion last year, and nearly 65% of households depend on money <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">family members send home</a>, spending most of it on basic needs.
A recent discussion at the Institute for Integrated Development Studies (IIDS) titled Diaspora Dialogue: Innovation, Identity and Global Influence looked at leveraging the 4 million Nepalis who live and work abroad to spur investment and growth.
IIDS has been involved since 1979 in policy advocacy to propose sustainable solutions to governments under at least four different political systems. The fact that we are in the state we are in now must mean that not many of the policy priorities the IIDS put forward in the past 40 years have been properly implemented.&nbsp;
For decades, we’ve heard that Nepal’s path to economic growth lies in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-can-level-up-tourism-with-electricity">hydropower and tourism</a>, but that narrative has to change, noted IIDS Executive Director Biswash Gauchan.&nbsp;
“Forget falling water, forest and forex,” he said. “Nepal has to move to a knowledge economy, boost investment and look beyond our neighbours to the diaspora.”&nbsp;
There is an artificial bubble in real estate and banking due to remittances. Even if Nepal gets 3 million tourists a year and exports most its hydropower it will not be enough to take the annual per capita income to $6,000 by 2050.
A knowledge economy means thinking beyond enrolment rates and basic literacy to quality education relevant to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/investing-in-people">human resources the country needs</a>. This will ensure jobs at home in import-substitution agriculture, value-added manufacturing and export of services.
And that is where global Nepalis come in. Connectivity means the end of geography, and diaspora talent and capital can be harnessed for investment and involvement in innovation to take Nepal into a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/smart-ageing-is-nepal-s-next-frontier">digital future</a>.&nbsp;
This needs a paradigm shift away from a rent-seeking state to a ‘whole-of-government’ strategy that can only come from a new crop of competent technocrats with integrity and vision to seize the moment. They have to see migration not as 'brain drain' but as 'brain circulation'.
Those Nepalis exist. In Nepal and all over the world. Swaziland’s anuual per capita income is $4,000 — think we can do it <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-in-2050-wk6r5r1j">by 2050</a>?

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