· &nbsp;At least 400 people are dead or missing after heavy rainfall lashed arid regions of northwestern Pakistan. Walls of mud and boulders engulfed entire villages in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province. More than 700 people have been killed in floods in Pakistan since June.&nbsp; · &nbsp;Over in India’s Jammu and Kashmir at the same time, multiple slurry floods on 17-18 August killed more than 80 people · A mudslide possibly caused by a glacial collapse upstream in Uttarakhand on 5 August nearly wiped the village of Dharali off the map. At least 70 people, 23 of them Nepalis are dead or missing. · On the night of 8 July, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">glacial lakes in Tibet overflowed</a>. By dawn the mudflow had demolished the Nepal-China border bridge killing at least 11 people, destroyed hydropower plants, swept away bridges, roads, over 100 cargo trucks and newly imported electric vehicles. All these disasters have a common thread: a cascade of hazards caused by record-breaking rainfall on fragile Himalayan slopes destabilised by melting glaciers and permafrost, seismicity and poorly engineered infrastructure. They are called ‘rain bombs’ — a heavy localised downpour measuring more than 100mm/h on a steep mountainside. As global warming heats the atmosphere, warmer air can hold more water vapour. The heavy rain then falls where there should be snowfall: on moraines and slopes that have lost the permafrost adhesive that held the debris together. “Increasingly, there is now more rainfall at higher altitudes where there used to be snowfall previously, and this directly impacts loose material in that fragile landscape which moves down,” explains Mohan B Chand, a Himalayan Glaciologist at Kathmandu University. “Moreover, the rains these days are heavy and fall within a few hours. So even a small burst has bigger impact.” The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">2021 Melamchi flood</a> and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Sikkim disaster in 2023</a> have been attributed to record-breaking torrential rain on a glacial moraine that collapsed, unleashing a catastrophic debris flow.&nbsp; The Bhote Kosi flood this year happened even without torrential rain, and originated at rapidly expanding supraglacial lakes that overflowed, similar to what happened on the Mendenhall Galcier in Alaska last week. In Uttarakhand, the trigger could be in the upper catchment cryosphere, or a landslide dammed lake. Basanta Raj Adhikari of the Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering also calls them ‘sediment bombs’. He clarifies: “There is lots of sediment up there from landslides or glacial activity, and when there is heavy rainfall and hotter temperature, they are unleashed downstream. One thing is for sure, these extreme events are getting more frequent and more destructive.” Researcher Alton C Byers who has studied melting glaciers in the Himalaya and Andes names the eight most potentially dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal: Lower Barun, Chamlang North Tso, Chamlang South Tso, Dig Tso which burst in 1984, Lumding Tso, Thulagi, Tso Rolpa and Imja Tso (see map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="522" height="557" loading="lazy" alt="high risk glacial lakes in Nepal"> </figure>  Of these, Tso Rolpa and Imja have been lowered by 3m each, while Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes have been targeted for lowering by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology as part of the recent Green Climate Fund grant of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">$36.1 million awarded to Nepal</a>. “These lakes have changed over the years as their debris-covered glaciers continue to recede,” Byers told Nepali Times. “When water volume in the lake basin increases, they become more vulnerable to flood triggers such as overhanging ice as glaciers recede further to their headwalls, and permafrost on their moraines continues to melt.” <h2>These are not ‘natural disasters’</h2> Scientists have given the current planetary epoch a name: the Anthropocene. And anthropogenic causes in this era heighten the risk of disasters. Indeed, an analysis of recent Himalayan calamities (page 1) shows that there is much more at play here than climate breakdown. Haphazard encroachment of floodplains, quarrying and crusher activity exacerbated the effect of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">extreme rainfall on 28 September around Kathmandu Valley</a> that killed 200 people. The human cost of the 5 August catastrophe in Uttarakhand would have been high in any case, but the fact that the tiny village had expanded across a vulnerable alluvial fan to cater to a tourism boom meant more death and destruction. There are similar alluvial fans across Nepal, where small towns have expanded because new highways follow rivers, like Beni located at the confluence of the Myagdi Khola and Kali Gandaki. Other towns like Kagbeni or Damauli are located on the banks of rivers and tributaries that are directly downstream from rapidly expanding glacial lakes or unstable mountains. “In Butwal, people are building houses on the floodplain of the Tinau River, and yet people blame climate change or rainfall when there is a disaster,” says Basanta Raj Adhikari at the Institute of Engineering. “This is happening all over the country. Imagine the kind of devastation Beni would suffer if there was a big flood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Beni Bazar"> <figcaption>RISKY CONFLUENCE: Beni has expanded rapidly after the highway to Mustang was built. But the town is situated on the alluvial fan of past flash floods on both the Kali Gandaki and Myagdi Khola which have dangerous glacial lakes in their upper catchment. Photo: BENI TOURISM</figcaption> </figure>  Traditionally, Nepal’s villages and settlements were located high above rivers because our forebears learnt lessons from recurring flash floods. Now, the road network follows rivers, and towns have sprung up along these highways. Even when roads are not on river banks, many gouge out slopes above, unleashing massive landslides that block rivers. Experts say Nepal’s hazard map should now be updated for glacial outbursts so municipalities can plan risk-sensitive land use zoning. This &nbsp;must go hand-in-hand with measures to reduce the risk by structural mitigation, such as engineering and construction, and then with risk awareness and early-warning systems. Says Himalayan researcher Alton C Byers: “Sooner or later, communities will realise that certain sites are simply no longer safe for a village or city, especially because of climate change in the mountains. The Himalaya has always been high-risk with its steep slopes, thin soil, monsoon rainfall regime, and frequent seismic activity. So, some places are no longer safe to live in.” Mohan B Chand of Kathmandu University adds that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">hazard mapping is especially crucial for expensive hydropower plants</a>: “Most of these are on snow-fed rivers, but environmental risk assessment is not taken seriously.” He says that because Nepal is set to generate 28,500MW by 2035 to meet its carbon neutral target, the government must work to minimise upstream risk by integrating disaster mitigation components in new energy investments. Few know that Nepal’s first hazard mapping was done 40 years ago in the Khumbu with a United Nations University study titled ‘Highland Lowland Interactive Systems’. It is hard to find that document anywhere. Today, hazard mapping technologies, satellite remote sensing, drones, synthetic aperture radar (SAR) and modelling with AI have made it much easier to integrate multi-hazard risk assessment. That data needs to be made available to local governments so they can plan. Cell phones and new apps that monitor real-time glacial lake levels, live precipitation and hydrological data, and local weather forecasts can make early warning systems more effective. Recent disasters have shown that even the smallest of glacial lakes that are rarely considered in risk assessments can cause much damage. Langmale Lake in the Barun Valley was less than 0.1 km2 in size, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting" target="_blank">the flood in 2017</a> caused extensive downstream damage. The 2012 Seti flood in Pokhara, the Chamoli disaster in Uttarakhand in 2021, the South Lhonak proglacial lake burst in Sikkim in 2023 that washed away the $1.7 billion Chungthang Teesta III Project, and the August 2024 floods above Thame in Khumbu are other recent examples.&nbsp; Byers thinks some of these floods may have been initially triggered by massive rockfall or moraine collapse related to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost" target="_blank">melting permafrost</a>. The size of a glacial lake alone does not determine the severity of destruction. What makes all the difference is downstream development, and if there pre-warning. Dig Tso in Khumbu which burst in 1984, was much larger than the lake that caused the Bhote Kosi flood in July, but the economic cost to the country of the trans-boundary disaster this year was much higher. Says glaciologist Chand: “We have to monitor the lakes, not just via remote sensing but with field visits. These may be costly, but mitigating the risk is less expensive than the disasters themselves.” Nepal has the technology and trained personnel to do hazard mapping, monitoring, and to design early warning apps. That data and information now needs to be available to all three levels of government to improve preparedness and risk reduction. “The cascading and compounding hazards are increasing in the Himalaya, this must be the subject of our research now,” says Adhikari at the Centre for Disaster Studies. “Recent events are a wake-up call, if we do not take this seriously things may be more dangerous in future.”

Sonia Awale

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Rain bombs

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/including-local-knowledge-to-study-climate-change">Alton Byers</a> has organised frequent research expeditions to the Himalaya for more than 50 years. Recently, he returned to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tracing-past-glacial-floods-in-kangchenjunga">Kanchenjunga region</a> which he has visited three times since 2019. His team was there to gather more data for an ongoing study of glacial, ecological and socioeconomic changes in the region. But, his attention was soon diverted when a young man from the local community told Byers that locals had noticed large meltwater ponds forming at the toe of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kanchenjunga</a> Glacier, upstream from Ghunsa and Kambachen. “He asked if we could go take a look at it,” Byers said. “We were on our way up to the Kanchenjunga base camp, so we made a detour. Sure enough, you could see these considerable lakes, perhaps a half-a-square-mile and growing.” Byers sprung into action. First, he interviewed other community members about the ponds — they confirmed the observations and growing concern. Then, over the ensuing months, he assembled a team of experts to conduct a study of how the ponds were changing. <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2073-4441/17/10/1457#:~:text=This%20study's%20modeling%20results%20suggest,Ghunsa%20in%20the%20form%20of">The study was published in the journal Water earlier this month</a>. The paper outlines a number of potentially dangerous flood scenarios that could be triggered at the site in the future. The researchers urge regional authorities to implement mitigation measures, including a monitoring program and an early warning system for flooding.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250708030756_e4eda873993e7aa17a2e90dc95a162c85e4dc4627f6251ee8a9543681e3367b3.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250708030756_e4eda873993e7aa17a2e90dc95a162c85e4dc4627f6251ee8a9543681e3367b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1967" height="2128" loading="lazy" alt="Mapping Kangchenjunga glacial flood risk"> <figcaption>Predicted future Kanchenjunga proglacial lake extent and depth, frontal moraine, and potential avalanche location, which were used as input for modeling the GLOF cascade in r.avaflow. The background image is from Google Earth Imagery taken on 25 December 2020.</figcaption> </figure>  Byers’ first call for collaboration was to <a href="ttps://www.icimod.org/team/sonam-wangchuk/">Sonam Wangchuk</a>, an expert in snow and ice research via satellite imagery at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development. The images were striking. From 2022 to 2024, the ponds grew from puddles to large, interconnected bodies of water.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250708030740_d60cec33fe26074cb49a6a7c4d8f42ef8870c63f606c945d60fc3bf0327b1a3b.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250708030740_d60cec33fe26074cb49a6a7c4d8f42ef8870c63f606c945d60fc3bf0327b1a3b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1861" height="2126" loading="lazy" alt="Mapping Kangchenjunga glacial flood risk"> <figcaption>Evolution of supraglacial lakes on debris-covered glacier (27.7726, 88.0187) at Kanchenjunga. Time series satellite composite images were acquired by Sentinel-2 Multispectral Instrument between September and October, with the exception of the April–May 2024 images. Two large and distinct lakes which expanded rapidly in 2022 and continued to grow in 2023 and 2024 are labeled as 1 and 2, for locational comparison with the oblique view taken on 25 May 2024. Photo: ALTON BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  “It’s sort of an indicator of how these melting processes are accelerating,” Byers said. Next, Byers and collaborators estimated that the meltwater ponds could form a large glacial lake. That lake, if it forms, will be vulnerable to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">outburst flooding</a>, which could be triggered by melting processes, structural collapse or rockfall from surrounding slopes. Finally, the researchers focused their efforts on modeling potential floods. They identified four scenarios, from small to large.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250708030744_ecafcf2013548954fcd0c76ce9ab299d68222fae99892d168dcba70f0fd802ae.png" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250708030744_ecafcf2013548954fcd0c76ce9ab299d68222fae99892d168dcba70f0fd802ae" data-rendition-name="original" width="2637" height="3197" loading="lazy" alt="Mapping Kangchenjunga glacial flood risk"> <figcaption>Flood extent under various scenarios: areas impacted by all four GLOF scenarios are labelled as 4, those affected by three scenarios as 3, by two scenarios as 2, and by only one scenario as 1. (B) Hydrograph generated from GLOF modeling in r.avaflow and used as the input flow data for modeling each GLOF scenario in HEC-RAS. Flow depth and velocity at Kampachen (C,D) and Ghunsa (E,F). Discharge rate and time of peak, and flow arrival at Kampachen (G) and Ghunsa (H) under different scenarios.</figcaption> </figure>  Under the mildest scenario, the flood surge would travel 100km down the Tamor River, and under the worst-case scenario it would travel at least 220km with impact on houses and bridges, livestock, crops and tourism infrastructure. Byers warns that without adequate preparation, glacial outburst flooding can be deadly. The paper advises local and regional authorities to take measures to prevent a flood originating from the study site. Their recommendations include establishing early warning systems for flooding, partnering with research organisations in Kathmandu to monitor the site and adapting zoning laws to prevent new buildings in flood zones.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250708030748_dccee85332d2844413dc5693050899b4bc49a25f9c66abc6b1ac1f5a80786d58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250708030748_dccee85332d2844413dc5693050899b4bc49a25f9c66abc6b1ac1f5a80786d58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1356" height="668" loading="lazy" alt="Mapping Kangchenjunga glacial flood risk"> <figcaption>Imja Lake, a glacial lake in the Mount Everest region of Nepal, began as meltwater ponds in 1962 and now contains 90 million cubic meters of water. Its water level was lowered to protect downstream communities. Photo: ALTON BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">The not-so-permanent frost</a>, Wilfried Haeberli and C Alton Byers One of the cheapest and most effective early warning systems is deceptively simple: cell phones. Says Byers: “Not everyone can afford multi-million dollar early warning systems that rely on laser readings of water depth. But, studies have shown that cell phones, at least during the daytime, are one of the better early warning systems out there.” Byers hopes the study can help the same people that brought the issue to his attention: “The goal was always to share the research with the local community. Then they have all of the information they need to make the best decisions possible.” <a href="https://www.colorado.edu/instaar/2025/05/27/researchers-model-dangerous-glacial-lake-himalayas-and-propose-solutions">Gabe Allen</a> is Senior communications specialist at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research at the University of Colorado Boulder.

Mapping Kangchenjunga glacial flood risk

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/human-face-of-a-himalayan-climate-crisis" target="_blank">Janmu Sherpa</a> was a grandmother with a dozen goats and a tea house in Donggang in the Rolwaling Valley. Her stopover served trekkers en route to Tso Rolpa Glacial Lake and the trail over Tashi Laptsa Pass to Khumbu. In 2018, I spent months in the Rolwaling Valley studying how <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/rastraraj_bhandari_what_climate_activists_are_doing_wrong" target="_blank">mountain communities perceive</a> climate change. Unlike my climate-anxious self, Janmu was calm, even hopeful, despite having lived through floods, landslides, and the 2015 earthquakes. “No one knows when Tso Rolpa will burst, so we cannot stop our daily chores. Let fate decide,” Janmu Sherpa had said. Last year, fate did decide. On 22 June 2024, the Dorji Phungmo Glacial Lake burst. The resulting flood swept through the Rolwaling River, washing away homes and hotels in Donggang. Janmu <a href="https://thehimalayantimes.com/nepal/climbers-valley-devastated-by-floods-immediate-relief-sought" target="_blank">was among</a> the missing, and later declared dead.&nbsp; I learned of her disappearance during a recent cycling trip through Panauti along the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-flood-of-tears-on-the-rosi" target="_blank">Rosi Khola</a>, which was devastated by deadly flash floods on 28 September 2024.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051918054_14898953b7a5808b51440f7a6fa35a7d66146bbb1d62bf88729a83a558ca8ebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025051918054_14898953b7a5808b51440f7a6fa35a7d66146bbb1d62bf88729a83a558ca8ebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A pre-monsoon déjà vu"> <figcaption>Tso Rolpa glacial lake at 4,580m has grown seven times in size in the past 60 years due to global warming. </figcaption> </figure>  Tipper trucks rumbled through the dusty road, carrying stones and gravel from unregulated quarries and sand mining along the Rosi. This was destruction disguised as development, and the crusher industries had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers" target="_blank">magnified the impact of record rainfall</a>. On the other side of the mountain, along the Lele and Karmanasa Khola, families are still reeling from last year’s floods. Here, too, a quarrying frenzy exacerbated the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">destructive power of the floods</a>. There are thousands of untold stories like Janmu, and the estimated 200 who perished in the September floods. Most have been forgotten, their deaths blamed on fate. I write this from afar, as Kathmandu hosts the Sagarmatha Sambaad this week to draw global attention to the impact of the climate crisis on the Himalaya. The summit took place as pre-monsoon rains lashed the Rosi and Lele Valleys. Even before the start of the rainy season, more debris flows from the mining operations destroyed repaired roads and neighbourhoods rebuilt after floods last year. The rivers that flooded Kathmandu in September 2024 are still vulnerable. Aside from a few sandbanks built by local hands, nothing has changed. No national reckoning. No systemic response. Instead, everything is blamed on climate change.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051918054_57fa57586b1e370e715daf837aa4cae3e73b0f029bb0ccef8be768e85656cc5f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025051918054_57fa57586b1e370e715daf837aa4cae3e73b0f029bb0ccef8be768e85656cc5f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1499" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A pre-monsoon déjà vu NT"> <figcaption>Janmu Sherpa's village of Donggang is directly downstream from Tso Rolpa Glacial Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="http://as%20kathmandu%20hosts%20the%20sagarmatha%20sambaad/" target="_blank">Janmu Sherpa’s story</a> haunts me not just because of her loss, but because she shaped my journey as a climate activist. She taught me that climate action is not just about carbon or conferences, it is about livelihoods, listening, and the impossible trade-offs faced by communities where survival is more urgent than sustainability. As monsoon clouds gather again, there is a sense of dread not just about floods, but for the apathy that follows. We are trapped in a cycle of climate inaction fueled by corruption, state neglect, and a development model that treats rivers as resources to be drained, not lifelines to be protected. It is no longer a question of if the floods will come, but when, and how devastating they will be. And yet, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/politicians-and-cronies-blamed-for-kavre-floods" target="_blank">those in power remain unmoved</a> even when disaster strikes their own backyard. We are still chasing climate finance and hosting international summits, while local insurance markets stagnate and communities fend for themselves. To be sure, global advocacy matters. The Himalayan climate crisis must be on the international agenda. Melting glaciers here affect billions downstream. But adaptation cannot begin and end in air-conditioned conference halls. It must bring real preparedness to villages, valleys, and riverbanks of Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051918058_3ec77114d434385351ad1637fd5ab42dc6a76b94b0e90f1c6e683c71535f6e6a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025051918058_3ec77114d434385351ad1637fd5ab42dc6a76b94b0e90f1c6e683c71535f6e6a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1701" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A pre-monsoon déjà vu"> <figcaption>The Sagarmatha Sambaad climate conference in Kathmandu this week. Photo: PRADEEP RAJ ONTA / RSSseasonmedia2007</figcaption> </figure>  I visited the communities ravaged by floods in September and as I wrote in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a> then, top-down responses are always too little, too late and too ineffective. The only real solution is bottom-up, community-led adaptation. Those who lived through the floods know what needs to be done, and those privileged and in power need to enable them. Community-led adaptation is not just a buzzword. It is our only viable path forward. It means empowering local people with the tools, knowledge, and resources to protect themselves. It means investing in early warning systems that reach the last mile and actually work, restoring ecosystems that buffer floods, and supporting indigenous knowledge that has long helped communities live in harmony with nature. It means letting go of our belief that somehow our degrees in climate change and attendance in global climate conferences enable us to tell communities how they should be responding to climate change. It means shifting power and funding to the grassroots, where resilience is not theoretical — it is lived, practiced, and urgently needed. As the rains return, I am reminded of Janmu Sherpa’s voice of quiet wisdom. Her innate resilience did not save her life. Let us not wait for the next flood to act. Let us protect what we still have. Rastra Raj Bhandari is co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya.

A pre-monsoon déjà vu

In the first two episodes of this series, we looked at how <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/people-and-mountains-are-thirsty-in-eastern-nepal">climate breakdown has worsened the water shortage in eastern Nepal</a>, with rains failing and springs going dry.&nbsp; But there is a flipside. In the monsoon, there is also the curse of too much rain leading to destructive landslides, floods driving people out.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-crisis-drought-food-deficit-migration">Analysing meteorological and hydrological data from the past half-a-century in eastern Nepal’s Tamor River basin</a>, the big floods of 1963 and 1968 stand out with other less destructive monsoons in between.&nbsp; Nepal’s monsoons usually last 112 days from mid-June to mid-September, and its clockwork arrival and departure has inspired Nepali poetry and song. But climate breakdown has disrupted the timetable, and there have been years with highly unusual monsoons and floods. In 1968, the monsoon delivered more rain than usual in some places and less than normal in others, and the big floods actually came after the monsoon is supposed to have retreated.&nbsp; The national news agency RSS reported a damaging flood in Sunsari, the district in the plains where the Kosi River disgorges into the plains after confluence of the Arun, Sun Kosi and Tamor. Three days later, RSS reported that 500 cattle and 1,500 goats had drowned in Sunsari, and a child’s body had been found. And upstream in Leuti Khola, three people and seven houses were swept away. A week later, RSS reported again that seven people and 14 livestock had been killed by floods, and bridges as well as paddy ready for harvest were swept away. Even upstream in Olangchung Gola, three people were killed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427010452_9fe3ea424cd644cb1f5a06a731f44d466d70216f39d943e0bd4a5f6f13fdf90d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240427010452_9fe3ea424cd644cb1f5a06a731f44d466d70216f39d943e0bd4a5f6f13fdf90d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1688" height="1088" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in Eastern Nepal"> </figure>  Laxmi Prasad Siwakoti was a boy in 1968, and remembers enormous boulders thundering down rivers. One boulder the size of a house luckily was pushed to the banks before it could destroy a key bridge below Taplejung. All this water created even more death and destruction in the inland delta of Sunsari, also washing down the bodies of people and livestock from upstream. The 1968 post-monsoon flow of the Kosi reached 23,106 cumecs – four times the volume in the 1963 flood. Some researchers attributed the 1963 flood to the bursting of Tiptala Glacial Lake in the Kangchenjunga area, and that the 1968 flood was also caused by another moraine collapse on the same lake.&nbsp; But analysis of precipitation data of the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology shows that the reason for the catastrophic floods of 1968 was unusually heavy post-monsoon rainfall in the Tamor basin. Archival records of rainfall at Mulghat below Dhankuta shows that there was 162mm of rain on 3 October and another 158mm on 4 October. This meant that one-third of the total rainfall during four monsoon months fell in just two days. Never had Mulghat recorded so much rain in such a short time, and in the 55 years since there has been that much rain only twice. On 4-5 October 1968, Dhankuta received 300mm of rain. It had never received so much rain in the autumn before or since. Similarly, Taplejung recorded 231mm of rain in the same two days – it has never received so much rain in the post-monsoon since. Hydro-meteorological stations across eastern Nepal in Panchthar, Taplejung, Dhankuta and Sankhusabha all show data of record-breaking post-monsoon precipitation on 3-4 October 1968. In fact data shows that except for northwestern Nepal, there was heavy unseasonal rain all over. Dhulikhel near Kathmandu recorded 221mm rain that day, and even Jomsom in the trans-Himalayan rainshadow got 58% of its annual rainfall in just one week. In a paper titled Heavy Monsoon Rainfall in Nepal, J L Nayava dug up an archival weather map from 1968 that showed a cyclone develop in the Bay of Bengal a week after the official retreat of the monsoon from Nepal in conjunction with a low pressure area over southern India. Both systems moved northwards, and it could have been the combination of the two that dumped the record rainfall in Nepal.&nbsp; Nayava notes: ‘On 29 September, a small low appeared over the Bay of Bengal at about 10°N, 90°E. During the next two days, the circulation of this low expanded as it moved north-eastwards into central India and intensified into a depression. By 3 October, Nepal and much of India had come within the circulation of this depression… During the next two days, a sharp 500mb trough passed through Nepal and central India and as the polar westerlies at 200mb intensified and moved equatorwards, bringing the subtropical westerly jetstreams ever closer to Nepal. As the depression moved north, the anticyclonic circulation at 200mb over the depression intensified and became orientated in a south-west-north-east direction. Associated with these developments, widespread rain fell in most parts of Nepal…’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427010452_6fc01e56307dfd3c43e58d7170346d11a1fd8ee2a748074b22aa84bcfdab8369.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240427010452_6fc01e56307dfd3c43e58d7170346d11a1fd8ee2a748074b22aa84bcfdab8369" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in Eastern Nepal"> </figure>  It was not just eastern Nepal that suffered destruction, many people were killed in Bhojpur, Khotang and Solu to the west. If this was indeed a glacial lake outburst flood, the destruction would not have been so widespread. The hydrological data of the Tamor of 3-5 October 1968 are also not commensurate with a flash flood triggered by a glacial lake burst. The Mulghat hydrological stations showed that on 4 October, there was 3,060 cumec of flow (volume of water never recorded before) which decreased only slightly over the next few days and returned to a more normal 636 cumecs only on 9 October.&nbsp; By the time the rains stopped that October, 60 people were dead in Kosi zone alone, thousands of livestock were killed and houses swept away. The new bridge over the Tamor and other suspension bridges were destroyed. But that was not the end of the story. On 29 October 1968 came news that 91 people had been killed in Taplejung, 60 in Terathum, 30 in Panchthar and three in Dhankuta. Just in the Tamor watershed, 184 people were killed and thousands made homeless. Nepalis have learnt over the years to be prepared for disasters during the monsoon, and to breathe a sigh of relief when the rains end. But the 1968 floods hit after the monsoon, when people felt safer. Floods were nothing new in the Tamor. There was an unimaginable one five years earlier on 15 August 1963 that swept away 16 houses in Olangchung Gola, and this flood was different from the one in 1968. Locals remember an air blast preceding the flash flood, and an approaching roar that shook the mountains like an earthquake. Houses shook, cattle cowered and goats ran for cover. Upstream, villagers saw clouds of dust and spray, and there was a smell of gunpowder in the air as enormous boulders collided with each other. Although this was the monsoon period, the precipitation in the day preceding the debris flow was normal. This could not have been caused by a cloudburst. Alton C Byers, the American glaciologist who has researched historical glacial floods in the Kangchenjunga region, used satellite imagery and interviews with local villagers to pinpoint the flood to the bursting of Tiptala glacial lake at 4,900m. “The gunpowder smell and the wind preceded the arrival of the debris flow,” remembers Nil Limbu of Chhiruwa of Taplejung, an eye witness of the 1963 event. “It destroyed everything, took away all the trees, left just rocks and boulders.” The flood washed away the mule trail along the Tamor, and swept away the flat meadow along the river where there used to be a weekly market. Today, the trail is higher above the river, but for years later, there used to be rockfalls from above. The debris flow raced downstream destroying houses, trails, bridges, farms, livestock. The flood made national news, and RSS reported that below Dhankuta, the Tamor destroyed the trail to Taplejung and washed away seven bridges. The glacial lake outburst flood on the Tamor met the Arun and then the Kosi where the river flow spiked to 6,371 cumecs. Further downstream in the plains, the flood destroyed the western embankment of the Kosi Barrage, inundating villages in more than 1m of water. A month later, the government released the death toll: 32 killed, unknown number of livestock, standing crops, and causing damage equivalent to 1.6% of Nepal’s annual budget that year. Nepal’s famous eye doctor Sanduk Ruit’s family also had to leave their home in Olangchung Gola after that flood and settled down in Dhankuta. The combined result of the record rainfall-induced floods of 1968 as well as the glacial lake outburst flood of 1963 could have been early examples of climate-induced floods, which have become more frequent in recent years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427010456_c6e6182935c1704629e175dc351f79b74367824a14be020d0b05bdda201a2747.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240427010456_c6e6182935c1704629e175dc351f79b74367824a14be020d0b05bdda201a2747" data-rendition-name="original" width="1036" height="1184" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in Eastern Nepal"> </figure>  On 17 June 2023 Memeng station in Panchthar recorded 230mm rainfall in a 24 hour period, the highest rainfall ever recorded in that station (second highest was 148mm in July 2002). Nearby Dovan of Taplejung experienced 106mm on 18 June and 102mm on 19 June. The basin-wide floods on the Tamor and its tributaries caused damage worth at least Rs8.5 billion on 30 hydropower plants in Sankhuwasabha, Taplejung and Panchthar. Eighteen workers were killed. Half of these schemes were under construction, but plants generating 130MW were knocked out of action. Some, like the Upper Piluwa Khola 2 and Super Hewa Khola have still not been repaired. While these were all caused by extreme rainfall events, on the Sikkim side of Kangchenjunga a post-monsoon disaster on 4 October 2023 washed away several hydropower plants on Teesta and its tributaries, and killed nearly 100 people downstream. The 1,200MW Chungthang Dam built at a cost of $1billion was destroyed. It was later revealed that extreme rainfall on the South Lhonak Glacial Lake, north of Kangchenjunga, caused the collapse of a lateral moraine which allowed a wave to breach the terminal moraine. The lateral moraine could have been weakened by thawing permafrost, and collapsed during heavy rainfall on the night of 4 October.&nbsp; The Sikkim disaster was an important lesson for Nepal, which has invested heavily in infrastructure on this side of the border. More than a dozen medium and large hydropower plants have been built or are under construction along the Tamor alone. The 1960 Tiptala and the 1980 Nangama glacial lake bursts are further proof that such disasters can happen again without warning because of climate breakdown. Besides droughts and floods, landslides are also the reason many people from eastern Nepal have migrated to the relative safety of the plains. A huge landslide in 1946 in Hangdeva in Taplejung is still displacing many people. East of Hangdeva, another landslide in 1977 killed 25 people and the rest of the village just moved out. It is clear that with the climate crisis, extreme weather events and glacial lake bursts will be more serious and frequent, affecting lives and livelihoods, contributing to outmigration.&nbsp; This is the final of a three-part series supported by the Barbara Foundation.

Either too little, or too much water

Rivers have been the lifelines of civilisations with their dynamic ecosystems providing vital services for human survival and ecological balance through the ages.&nbsp; But accelerating anthropocentric footprints are causing severe, and often irreversible, damage to river systems across the world, including those across High Asia, a region that sustains nearly a fourth of the global population downstream. An example is the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-the-bagmati-civilisation-is-becoming-uncivilised" target="_blank">Bagmati River</a> that courses through Kathmandu, crosses the Himalayan foothills to join the Ganga in India. A river that once shaped the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/when-it-comes-to-water-pollution,3196" target="_blank">Kathmandu Valley Civilisation </a>is now a polluted and biologically dead water body constricted by urban sprawl, choked by construction debris, chemical waste and untreated sewage.&nbsp; The loss of a sacred river is tragic enough, but its hazards related to health, life and livelihoods are not limited to the Valley, nor is its enormity fully gauged by the metrics of fatality, income loss, flood return periods, runoffs, embankment failure.&nbsp; It is a systemic collapse of ecological integrity, socio-economic stability and cultural heritage, affecting its downstream users as well. The death of Bagmati is a peril for a population size way bigger than circa 5 million residents of Kathmandu Valley. The degradation started in the 1980s and has accelerated. Why has not enough been done to save this iconic river that runs through Nepal’s capital?&nbsp; The Bagmati River Basin Improvement Project (BRBIP) was designed to make headway in restoring the river with a sewage treatment plant, dams for storing water to support dry-season runoff, recharge groundwater, creation of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/resurrecting-bagmati-the-river" target="_blank">green biodiversity corridors</a> along the river bank to also serve as recreation areas, reduce the urban heat island effect, and also provide cultural continuity. The project also envisages collection of hydrological data for managing Bagmati multipurposewater systems and providing flood forecasts and early warnings aimed at protecting lives and property, among other things. Most importantly, the project takes the integrated water resource management approach, which, in principle, is a holistic and collaborative way of managing all elements of the water cycle to ensure water security, public and environmental health and amenity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2126" height="1577" loading="lazy" alt="Bagmati NT"> </figure>  This should pave the way for managing a river as a connected ecological, social, and economic system by enabling coordination across agencies and disciplines, stimulating technological innovation and financial investment. The success of this approach depends on long-term political will and commitment that transcend political cycles, but also needs strong community and civil society in defining issues and proposing solutions, creating and sharing knowledge, taking independent action to inform practice, monitoring and evaluating policies, and participating in public decision-making. Civil society, especially, in making the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/encounter-with-bagmati-river" target="_blank">revival of the Bagmati River</a> a pressing governance issue. The Bagmati Action Plan 2009, a precursor to the BRBIP, was designed in response to lawsuits filed in 2000 and 2004 by an independent legal practitioner of Kathmandu against waste dumping in the river.&nbsp; It took him almost two decades of legal battle for Nepal’s Supreme Court to pass orders for mandatory septic tanks in all homes in Kathmandu Valley, relocation of squatters from Bagmati river banks to government-built houses, and embargo on dumping and burying garbage on the banks of the river and its tributaries. Despite court orders, however, actual results have been unsatisfactory. Restoration of Bagmati barely made it to any political debate or electoral manifesto this time. Treatment plants have not been operational for years, yet no one is held accountable. The population ignores waste segregation or single-use plastic rules to check littering.&nbsp; The current condition of the river therefore seems to have more to do with the lack of public awareness and behaviour change than the failure of various master plans. Why does the deep danger of a dead river fail to arouse widespread civil society concern, let alone action? The apathy is perhaps underlined by an innately anthropocentric understanding of the river as a mere resource to be exploited, rather than the backbone of existence.&nbsp; Such a paradigm shift is possible when river or river systems are understood to be necessary for &nbsp;a harmonious coexistence with human populations. The more pertinent question is not whether a dead river can be restored because there are many examples from around the world where that has been successfully achieved. It is whether we choose to restore our rivers for intergenerational equity. This would require a holistic perspective and political will to revive reverence for a river system so that its symbiotic relationship with human settlements can be restored. Roshni Gurung is Research Assistant, River Basins at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD).

A lifeline becomes liability

Nepal’s new government hit the ground running with the arrests of former Prime Minister K P Oli and home Minister Ramesh Lekhak early Saturday morning.&nbsp;
Their dramatic detentions followed an inquiry commission report recommending that Lekhak, Oli, and former Police chief Chandra Kuber Khapung be investigated and prosecuted for negligence in failing to stop the killing of 19 young protesters by security forces during the protests on 8 September.&nbsp;
Interim PM Sushila Karki’s government faced considerable criticism from GenZ activists at the end of her 7-month tenure for failing to release the report and hold the previous UML-NC coalition to account.&nbsp;
Karki had left any decision on the report’s findings to new RSP government, but her government released it after the content was leaked earlier this week, a day before Nepal’s newly elected lawmakers took their oath of office.
By making the arrests of Oli and Lekhak as its first order of business, the new government, and especially Home Minister Sudan Gurung and Prime Minister Balendra Shah, have tried to show that they are decisive and mean business.&nbsp;
It has been hailed by many as signalling that Nepal’s new and young leadership will back up its pledges with action. However, others including the UML and some constitutional experts, say that the arrests have not followed legal procedures. The UML has mobilised its affiliated groups to start nationwide street protests.&nbsp;
The main divide seems to be over the perception that the new government is only interested in justice for the perpetrators of the 8 September Parliament massacre, and not against those who organised arson and vandalism of government buildings, homes of politicians, businesses and the media the next day.&nbsp;
While some celebrate what they see as the beginning of justice for the victims and survivors of the September violence, political analysts and legal experts express alarm over a lack of adherence to the rule of law.&nbsp;
K P Oli has a lot of experience being behind bars. He was jailed a dozen times in 1970s by the Panchayat regime for his extreme left activism and then spent 14 years in prison between 1974-1988.
Critics argue that the former leaders were denied due process and label their arrest a “political vendetta."
RSP supporters had made similar arguments in October 2024 and April 2025 that the arrest of party chair Rabi Lamichhane over misappropriation of funds from numerous cooperatives were &nbsp;politically motivated.
‘What is happening is unacceptable,’ wrote former minister and diplomat Nilamber Acharya wrote on Saturday morning. ‘Such acts of revenge and crackdowns do not bode well.’
In response to accusations of the arrests being partisan and politically-motivated, Home Minister Sudan Gurung took to social media, saying that the new government is fulfilling its promises: ‘No one is above the law,’ he wrote. ‘This is not revenge, it is the beginning of justice. I believe now that the nation will now take a new direction.’
There is also concern the new leadership has jumped the gun to implement the findings of the inquiry commission, which has itself been criticised in some quarters for concentrating on the events of 8 September rather than investigating the perpetrators of the anarchy on 9 September.&nbsp;
The first meeting of the Council of Ministers made the immediate implementation of the GenZ Movement Inquiry Report its first priority.
But there are questions as to whether the execution of the report will be impartial. Home Minister Gurung will now dictate how the recommendations &nbsp;will be conducted, since he is himself referenced in the report in connection with the unrest on 9 September.&nbsp;
In fact, the report also outlines how supporters stormed Nakhu Prison on 9 September to organise Rabi Lamichhane’s jailbreak. Will Minister Gurung also go after his own party's leadership? &nbsp;
With the UML already calling for nationwide protests against the detention of its leaders, there is concern that Nepal is plunging straight into turmoil instead of stability.
The UML leadership has been unrepentant about the 8 September events. Oli has defiantly blamed infiltration and outside forces for the killings, and unlike the Nepali Congress the UML has not managed its own leadership changeover.&nbsp;
The NC under Gagan Thapa as well as the Nepali Communist Party of Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal have so far been silent about the detentions even though former Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak is from the NC.
Oli and Lekhak’s arrests will now be challenged in the courts. But their detention also signals to Nepal’s political old guard that the tables have turned: legacy leaders cannot be complacent and assume they will disappear from national consciousness for past deeds without being held accountable for what happened during their watch.
The RSP government under Prime Minister Balendra Shah seems determined not to let bygones be bygones. But while that is all and well, it remains to be see whether the party can deliver on the need of the electorate for tangible governance reform.
The danger is that the new rulers may be defined by the same tactics of political revenge as its predecessors in the name of meting out justice.

New Nepal government signals action

Nepal got a radically new and young government this week, and among the many choices it has to make will be to decide on embracing bleeding edge technology like cryptocurrency and the blockchain. All crypto activities are currently banned by Nepal Rastra Bank (NRB), and violations can be punished by confiscation of bought goods, fines of three times more, and prison time.&nbsp; “This ban comes from ignorance, not strategy,” says blockchain expert Bijay Bogati, Head of Engineering at Mandarix IT services. “Nobody at the policy-making level in Nepal really understands the technology.” Bogati is also building the Himalayan Art Council’s art certification blockchain, which tracks and archives the transaction history of traditional Paubha paintings as non-fungible assets, ensuring the original artists are credited and paid if the artwork changes hands. &nbsp; This group of technology, often called Web3, is not a fringe movement anymore. Some governments recognise that digital assets have to be integrated into their economies, although there are also those who say it is a corrupt bubble.&nbsp; Donald Trump announced a strategic bitcoin reserve for the US government a year ago. El Salvador has adopted bitcoin as legal tender, and even has ATMs for conversion. France recognises it.&nbsp; Bhutan uses its surplus hydroelectricity to mine bitcoin at its Gedu data center and has used earnings to invest in its Gelephu Mindfulness City project, boost civilservant salaries, and curb the brain drain.&nbsp; In this month’s GenZ-inspired election, Nepal’s voters replaced the older generation of leaders with mostly millennials who are more fluent with new technologies.&nbsp; The tech sector has grown with the country exporting nearly $1 billion worth of software products last year. This is seen by some as the perfect timing to harness the technology in the national interest.&nbsp; NEPAL’S BAN Central banks and financial regulators are averse to switching to technology, and NRB fears crypto transactions could foster money laundering, terrorism financing, capital flight and tax evasion.&nbsp; Critics say this is hypocritical, like a pot calling the kettle black, because it ignores the fact that Nepal’s centralised financial regulator has itself not been able to control rampant corruption, money laundering and tax malpractice. The NRB justifies its ban by saying that people were getting scammed or were at risk of losing money when influenced to bet on digital assets. Others reject this reasoning, saying it dictates how people spend their money.&nbsp; A real concern for Nepal in recognising crypto would be in maintaining ties with bodies like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and other international creditors, just as the backlash some countries have faced.&nbsp; In Nepal, it is the cybercrime department of the Central Investigation Bureau that invigilates, and it has made a handful of arrests since 2017.&nbsp; But ambiguous laws and a lack of knowhow about the technology means enforcement has not been easy. Says Bogati: “Crypto persists in Nepal. The ban just pushes activity underground.”&nbsp; BHUTAN’S PLAN Bhutan started mining Bitcoin in 2019, when the price for one BTC was $5,000 -- it is now over $70,000. The logic was simple: the country had excess hydroelectricity which was used to power supercomputers to mine bitcoin.&nbsp; The energy was renewable and fit in with Bhutan’s sustainability commitments. The country’s cold climate meant less heat was required to cool the machines.&nbsp; It was state-owned entities doing the mining. Crypto was not something the average Bhutani used every day, and the country has accumulated over 13,000 BTC valued at up to $1.4 billion — 40% of its GDP. It has sold some BTC and used it to raise civil servant salaries and try to reverse youth outmigration.&nbsp; Nepal also has surplus clean energy, especially in the monsoon, and also has natural cooling in the mountains. It also needs money. Every terawatt-hour (TWh) of electricity is worth roughly $84.8 million in gross mining revenue at current bitcoin prices. Nepal’s current surplus of about 3TWh would translate into $254 million a year. Selling the same amount of electricity to India earns Nepal only $56 million a year. In the near term Nepal’s surplus hydropower is expected to reach 14TWh, generating about $1.2 billion a year — almost 3% of its GDP.&nbsp; Currently, Nepal does not have surplus power in winter, the hardware costs to set up the mining operation would be huge, and the value of bitcoin is volatile.&nbsp; Bhutan also made over 100 cryptocurrencies usable for tourists for flights, hotels, and restaurants. After adopting bitcoin as legal tender, tourism to El Salvador surged 22%. Nepal is already a major tourism destination, and adding crypto infrastructure would attract global high-income remote workers who deal in crypto.&nbsp; Experts say there is always the risk of putting all the eggs in the bitcoin basket. It is a speculative asset, and could crash, governments may suddenly outlaw it citing its heavy energy use. Breakthroughs in quantum computing might break its cryptographic basis.&nbsp; But in the 15 plus years it has been active, bitcoin has survived crashes and regulatory and technological attacks.&nbsp; Perhaps as important as the money is the message that Nepal would send out about being open to innovation and investment, providing its engineers jobs within Nepal, and signaling its tech ambitions. For a country so dependent on remittance, using crypto would also save about 4% on transaction fees, as is happening in the Philippines now. The estimated 5 million Nepalis overseas send home $11 billion a year, although the unofficial amount is said to be much higher.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026032803030_ff2106a8941d17e05d4defef183e05a226f03fe67b4b51507d134ad42971534a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026032803030_ff2106a8941d17e05d4defef183e05a226f03fe67b4b51507d134ad42971534a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1777" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Web3 Nepal"> <figcaption>Photo: YALE UNIVERSITY</figcaption> </figure>  All this could be points to ponder for the youth-led RSP when it forms a government this week. It is especially relevant in addressing the party’s main mandate of reducing graft, and could be sold to international creditors like the World Bank and the IMF as a good investment when most capital expenditure projects in Nepal face delays and quality issues because of corruption. One way would be to create a blockchain system for government projects. Funds would be withheld until work is completed, reducing cheating and delays.&nbsp; Any Nepali could poke around to see which firm is granted which project at what cost, and how much progress has been made would improve government efficiency and help reduce fraud. “Lots of Nepalis are actively in Web3/Blockchain development despite the ban. The talent exists,” says Bijay Bogati. “But developers are scared. People with real skills do not want to take the risk.”&nbsp; Raunak Raj Rauniyar leads Superteam Nepal, a global talent network of creators and developers in Web3. He organises regular hackathons and bounty hunts where the best projects can win cash prizes.&nbsp; In a recent college tour across Nepal, it introduced and connected communities to blockchain developers.&nbsp; “We found that there is talent across Nepal. In fact participants outside the Valley were much more engaged and hungrier than those in it, perhaps because they have fewer tech events overall,” says Rauniyar.&nbsp; “More women are involved, the ratio is about 70-30, up from perhaps 90-10 a few years ago.” The Janamat app built on the blockchain is a recent Superteam product that lets any Nepali with a citizenship to anonymously share opinions and vote. This could let the government quickly understand public sentiment of Nepalis home or abroad instantly and on a wide range of topics.&nbsp; During the 5 March election, a Janamat poll for Jhapa-5 showed that 87% thought Balendra Shah would win, which accurately predicted the actual result. Users on the app are now discussing and voting on who should be in the RSP Cabinet (see page 1).&nbsp; WHAT NEXT Nepal continues to be wary and circumspect of these emerging technologies, responding with outright bans that it can hardly even enforce, and maintain an illusion of control.&nbsp; The alternative would be to identify talent which exists, and adopt these technologies, regulate it effectively and reap the benefit. It could make it easier for people to spend and invest their money in Nepal, create jobs, and even slow the brain drain.&nbsp; The timing seems to be just right, as a new forward-looking government of technocrats assumes control. Nepal is set to have a 35-year-old prime minister, and a supermajority government that will hopefully be stable for the next five years. &nbsp;

Time for Nepal to enter Web3

As a direct fallout of the Israel-American war on Iran, Nepal on Monday nearly doubled the price of aviation fuel in a move that is going to impact during the spring peak tourism season. The steep price hike of jet fuel appears to have been made to cushion the impact on the general public. The price of petrol, diesel and cooking gas were also hiked for the third time in a month on Thursday.&nbsp; Aviation turbine fuel (ATF) will now cost $2,237/ton up from $1,207. The cost of ATF in Kathmandu was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sky-high-fuel-price-hits-nepal-s-tourism-airlines" target="_blank">already one of the highest among Asian airports</a>, and this price hike will affect mostly long-haul flights to Istanbul, Seoul and Narita for airlines that need to refuel in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260404030416_6c5731484b4224dd6cbf4c4217036570ed769b3a98ccb9b0dd3250021091e3ac.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260404030416_6c5731484b4224dd6cbf4c4217036570ed769b3a98ccb9b0dd3250021091e3ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="1784" height="1294" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal aviation fuel price goes up"> </figure>  Domestic airlines, which paid Rs127 per litre, will now have to pay Rs251 for their turboprop planes. “We have no recourse but to pass this on to passengers as a fuel surcharge,” said one executive of a domestic airline in Nepal. As it is, Nepal Oil Corporation levied a hefty tax on petrol and ATF in order to subsidise diesel and cooking gas. Many analysts were expecting a fuel price hike, but the near-doubling of the price of ATF means the new Nepal government is trying to protect ordinary citizens from raising the price of diesel and LPG even more than it has so far. Aviation fuel in Nepal is trucked in on tankers from Indian refineries and its price is highest in Kathmandu, and less in Bhairawa and Pokhara — transportation costs being higher depending on distance. But even in Bhairawa, ATF prices have doubled for the only international airline that serves it, Thai AirAsia.&nbsp; Most airlines flying Kathmandu from nearer airports in India, the Gulf and Southeast Asia will be less impacted because they can fly in on full tanks and need minimum refuelling in Kathmandu. But carriers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/high-cost-lays-aviation-low-in-nepal" target="_blank">Turkish Airlines</a>, Cathay Pacific, Korean Air, &nbsp;and Nepal Airlines which fly wide body aircraft on long-distance routes will be hit hardest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040305040_a40db74375ebe0c28e7c35477bc262df9ae392a84e7bfa4033996181d69e0209.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026040305040_a40db74375ebe0c28e7c35477bc262df9ae392a84e7bfa4033996181d69e0209" data-rendition-name="original" width="1032" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="sky high prices"> </figure>  However, ATF costs have also been raised in regional airports like Hong Kong, India and Singapore. Aviation fuel at New Delhi airport has risen to $1,698/ton. Korean Air is adopting emergency measures to reduce expenses to make up for rising fuel costs. South Korea gets nearly all its fuel from the Gulf, and the blocking of the Strait of Hormuz has been especially damaging for the country. Fuel makes up more than a third of the operating cost of airlines, and even a small increase in ATF prices can make a big difference. Crude oil prices have increased 50% since the West Asia war began on 28 February, and global ATF prices have doubled.&nbsp; Airlines in Asia, including Nepal, face a double shock. The first is the higher fuel cost, and the second is that fewer people are travelling. Nepal’s tourism arrivals fell in March compared to February. India has added up to 20% fuel surcharge on domestic flights, and has reduced flights by 12%. Chinese airlines have also been affected, with China Eastern preparing for a significant impact of the Gulf war. It has added fuel surcharges to new tickets, as have Cathay Pacific, Thai International and Air Asia. Vietnam has drastically cut the number of domestic flights, and the Philippines will ration ATF. Australia imports 90% of its ATF mainly from China which has stopped export to ensure domestic supply to its own airlines. Carriers like Qantas have curtailed flights, changing aircraft type on long-haul routes, and a fuel surcharge of up to 20% have been added to tickets. Most Asian airlines are adding fuel charges only to new tickets, and the increase will not affect the price of pre-sold tickets issued for April and May.

glacial-lake-outburst-floods