The mountains of western Nepal have always been food deficit because of the lack of irrigation. Farmers migrated to the plains, where farming has been easier. But a searing heatwave this year accompanied by a delayed monsoon has led to a water crisis that threatens to undermine Nepal’s gains in achieving the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG). The climate crisis is a water crisis, and it has hit food production, nutrition and the availability of safe drinking water.&nbsp; Not everything can be blamed on climate breakdown. Wells that used to be the last resort for rice planting, for example, have gone dry because of a falling water table. In the highway town of Attariyia, there used to be five deep tubewells that supplied 4 million litres of water each day to the city’s 5,500 households. In the last three years, all but one of them has dried up. The municipality then drilled four more 80m deep wells, but even these have water only for six months in a year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630100656_5bddc97ff2727a37fbc7840675384f93678a8eeeb21136bda739f3e1af801bb9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240630100656_5bddc97ff2727a37fbc7840675384f93678a8eeeb21136bda739f3e1af801bb9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1949" height="1299" loading="lazy" alt="water crisis in Tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Towns in Tarai are parched for drinking water, there is no water for irrigation. They have to dig deeper for water and even then, new borewells have dried up. Photos: UNNATI CHAUDHARI</figcaption> </figure>  In the city of Dhangadi with a population of 300,000 on the Indian border, the municipality dug three deep wells after household wells went dry. This summer, even the tubewells ran out of water. The situation is similar in other nearby border towns. Experts say the reason for the falling water levels in the acquifers has more to do with over-extraction of groundwater both in Nepal and neighbouring India, where farmers get subsidised electricity for irrigation pumps. The area’s industries and farms also have their own wells that have tapped into what used to be a plentiful groundwater supply. “The water begins to dry out after the end of winter,” says Phulram Chaudhary of the nearby town of Krishnapur. “And till the monsoon arrives in June there is no water at all.” Indeed, towns and cities desperate for water are drilling ever deeper for precious water, using up a diminishing supply in the groundwater. Milanpur town dug a 90m deep borewell, but it ran out within ten days.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011064_8a3fd7f3f9daa81d3e7dabe15e6b56d5000351e2ba040797a77cfb8e82903307.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024063011064_8a3fd7f3f9daa81d3e7dabe15e6b56d5000351e2ba040797a77cfb8e82903307" data-rendition-name="original" width="6960" height="4640" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Over-extraction of ground water both in Nepal and neighbouring India is causing water lavels to fall in the Tarai. </figcaption> </figure>  The over-exploitation of ground water by an expanding populating and growing household and agricultural use has magnified the impact of climate breakdown which has led to chronic winter drought, heatwaves and erratic monsoons in western Nepal. “Ten years ago, it was enough to drill 20 metres to get water all year round, now it is no water even at 80 metres,” says Kalidevi Chaudhary, a farmer in the village of Kailari. She adds: “There is no water for drinking. Don’t even ask me about irrigation.” Water expert and professor at Tribhuvan University’s Central Department of Environmental Science Sudeep Thakuri says research has shown that the groundwater table across the Tarai has dropped mainly because of over-extraction, denudation in the catchment areas of the Chure, sand mining in the rivers, as well as climate change. “We have disturbed the water cycle, and the climate crisis has made the problem more acute with long droughts and uncertain monsoons,” Thakuri says. “This means there is not enough recharge of groundwater.” The distance between borewells and tube wells has also decreased as Tarai settlements grow and water demand increases. Indeed, 140 boreholes have been dug in Kailali and Kanchanpur, out of which only 91 still have water.&nbsp; Additionally, water has also been extracted through 1,001 deep tube wells in these two districts, according to the Groundwater Resources and Irrigation Development Division offices there.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011064_dc58f42acd2c79ead04f8175b24deb04a3c05244f8b6929e4dd42fd1d2d679ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024063011064_dc58f42acd2c79ead04f8175b24deb04a3c05244f8b6929e4dd42fd1d2d679ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="6960" height="4640" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Tarai’s groundwater is being used as a bargaining chip by elected officials, who have drilled arbitrarily to appease voters.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s provincial and local governments have invested heavily in subsidising drilling for groundwater, as per the federal policy of maximum utilisation of groundwater with a budget to drill 100 borewells.&nbsp; Tara Dutta Joshi, head of the Mahakali Irrigation Project in Kanchanpur says that although the aim was to use the groundwater extracted from these projects for the next 20 years, six of the 90 boreholes have already dried up.&nbsp; While tube wells pump up water from up to 40m feet below ground, there is no water to be found at this depth anymore in most of the western Tarai. Meanwhile, boreholes require drilling up to 110m, and artesian water is extracted between 110-400m below.&nbsp; Experts say the Tarai’s groundwater is being used as a bargaining chip by elected officials, who have drilled arbitrarily to appease voters. There is a lack of research as well as policy regarding how many boreholes can be drilled in a given area, and how much water can be extracted.&nbsp; Sankar Dutta Awasthi of Kailari village says federal decentralisation led to competition among local politicians to see who could supply more water to their electorates. Indeed, 1,200 small-scale groundwater projects have been constructed in this municipality since the formation of the local government in 2017 in addition to larger-scale projects carried out by the provincial and federal governments. “Elected officials are far more concerned about how to repeatedly ensure groundwater projects in their constituency than about how this uncontrolled extraction is going to affect the region in the future,” says Awasthi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011064_9da4708137cda6375aaf5953f857b643fe85d223b8d8fb2fcf81e66198f53377.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024063011064_9da4708137cda6375aaf5953f857b643fe85d223b8d8fb2fcf81e66198f53377" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>One tubewell used to be enough to sustain a village some decades ago, while today even three tubewells in one household in not enough to fulfil basic water needs.</figcaption> </figure>  One of the bores drilled in Kailari was for Ramesh Chaudhary four years ago for irrigation, but the water dried up within two years before a canal could be completed. Nearby in the village of Rampur, a 200m deep borewell drilled for irrigation also went dry.&nbsp; “The water never even reached any farmer’s field, what a waste of Rs10 million,” says Chaudhary. Water expert Tarka Raj Joshi notes that one tubewell should be enough to sustain a village some decades ago, while today even three tubewells in one household in not enough to fulfil basic water needs.&nbsp; “The local, provincial, and federal governments’ water distribution schemes will have a major impact on groundwater levels in the Tarai,” says Joshi. “No one is thinking about what this crisis means for the future.” The shortage of water threatens to undermine Nepal’s gains in reducing infant and child mortality as targeted in the SDG because children are forced to drink contaminated water. Their nutrition is also affected as food production is reduced because of lack of irrigation water. All this feeds into the outmigration trend. The answer is to allow ground recharge through regeneration of trees in the Chure, zoning to regulate rampant urbanisation, a tax on extraction of deep groundwater, and channeling water from the Karnali and Mahakali rivers to augment supply so there is less reliance on acquifers. <h2>Water shortage drives Surkhet villagers out</h2> ----  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011060_7ce1243b2fe49f183bd338cc25af8347c1602badcdf112fcb53b03db9b116078.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024063011060_7ce1243b2fe49f183bd338cc25af8347c1602badcdf112fcb53b03db9b116078" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="976" loading="lazy" alt="water crisis in Tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Rekcha residents marched to the municipality office with pitchers in their staw basket to demonstate their desperation for water. Photos: LAXMI BHANDARI</figcaption> </figure>  The delay in the onset of the monsoon rains in June meant that the village of Rekcha had a severe shortage of water.&nbsp; Residents started their day as usual, placing pitchers in their straw baskets by the community taps. But instead of heading to the wells to fetch water, they marched to the municipality office to demonstrate. The village’s Water Supply Struggle Committee was led by Ward member Tapendra Chhetri who had to resort to a sit-in outside the municipality out of desperation for water. Rekcha used to be an ideal place for settlers because of its fertile soil and plentiful water. Even though the 11 wells in the village produced enough water to sustain its families for decades, they have now all dried up.&nbsp; “Villagers now collect what little water is left on the bottom of the wells, using cloth for filtration,” says ward member Chhetri. “This village is dying of thirst.”&nbsp; The extreme water shortage has begun to drive residents out. Until five years ago, Rekcha village had 115 households, but 35 families have migrated elsewhere since. Khagisara Shahi was one of the villagers who walked with her water pitcher to the rural municipality headquarters. Like the rest of her neighbours she is finding it increasingly difficult to survive in Rekcha.&nbsp; “Our pleas fell on deaf ears, so we walked all the way here with our pitchers to make the leadership aware of our plight,” says Shahi. “We make do at other times, but it is impossible to live without water, especially when it is getting hotter.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011060_689983a311f320cec4427b7f0496cf9b4f6ff5dae0840bfec6b254d8c19abfac.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024063011060_689983a311f320cec4427b7f0496cf9b4f6ff5dae0840bfec6b254d8c19abfac" data-rendition-name="original" width="1203" height="679" loading="lazy" alt="water crisis in Tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Now that wells have dried up in Rekcha, the journey to other sources of water is even longer, and the drudgery falls on women.</figcaption> </figure>  Even when the village’s wells had water, it used to take hours of standing in queue for each household to collect water from their homes. Now that the wells have dried up, the journey to other sources of water is even longer, and the drudgery falls on women. “There is not enough time in the day to do all the housework, look after the farm and livestock, and fetch water,” says Shahi. Four years ago, the rural municipality made plans to bring water up to the village from the Karnali river, for which they allocated a budget of Rs17.2 million. However, the project fell through due to difficulties with road access.&nbsp; Chaukune Rural Municipality Chair Khadka BK says that local government resources alone will not be enough to provide drinking water to Rekcha. “The remoteness of the village means we need federal and provincial support.” Meanwhile, the villagers look down on the clear blue water of the snowfed Karnali River below, while their fields are parched and their children are complaining of thirst. Laxmi Bhandari This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

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Climate breakdown magnifies western Nepal’s woes

The recently concluded general election in India was shrouded in irony. The six-week-long voting period coincided with one of the worst heat waves yet recorded, but there was hardly any discussion of climate change or environment-related issues in the public political discourse. The idea that the climate is political is clearly still to drive home to the average Indian voters, politicians, and the media alike.
The worst of the heatwave this year in northern India was recorded in late May, coinciding with the 7th phase of the election when many parts of the region went to the polls. In Delhi’s Mungeshpur and neighbouring areas, temperatures reportedly soared to 52.9°C. However, the Indian Metrological Department issued a clarification days later that there was an error in the weather sensor which resulted in an additional 3°C reading over the actual temperature. Regardless, the heat took its toll.
As of early June, the total number of heat-related deaths in India for 2024 was pegged at 219. Among these, at least 33 were officials and personnel on election duty who succumbed to heat wave-related stresses in the 7th phase of the election alone. Public sector workers in India are compulsorily bound to perform election duties as and when required.
While sweltering heat engulfed northern India, the north-eastern states of Assam, Manipur, Mizoram and Tripura were battling the wrath of Cyclone Remal which flooded multiple cities, destroyed homes, drowned railway tracks and washed away bridges, cutting off the region from the rest of the country. Incessant rains induced by the cyclone caused massive landslides in Mizoram which killed at least 39 people while dozens were reported missing.
The heatwave that gripped India during its mammoth election was seen as a concern in that it was deemed to cause low voter turnout (pictured, above). Many media outlets speculated how this would affect the election results and particularly the prospects of the ruling party. Some argued that the Election Commission should have taken care to ensure that voting days did not coincide with heat-wave conditions.&nbsp;
But there was hardly any discussion on what was causing these extreme temperatures, (or the cyclone), nor any debate on the responsibilities of government to address environmental and climate change issues. In fact, the issue of climate change and environmental degradation were conspicuously absent from the mass discourse as seen through social media engagements, and the mass media’s focus.
The election manifestoes of both major parties, the Bharatya Janata Party (BJP) and the Indian National Congress did include measures to tackle climate change and environmental issues.&nbsp;
The BJP’s manifesto had a section titled “Modi ki Guarantee for Sustainable Bharat”, outlining a broad range of plans to address environmental issues including climate change while also underlining what it has achieved so far.&nbsp;
The Congress’ manifesto had a section titled “Environment, Climate Change and Disaster Management” which aimed to, among other things, institute an “independent Environment Protection and Climate Change Authority to establish, monitor and enforce environmental standards and to enforce the National and State Climate Change plans”.&nbsp;
Climate change and environmental issues were not totally absent from the electoral focus of the political parties, however tokenistic they were.
However, the point remains that no political party leader or politician brought up climate change or environmental issues in their electioneering, not even when a prominent leader fainted due to heat stress during campaigning in Maharashtra.&nbsp;
While the Congress and its INDIA alliance partners campaigned for votes on issues of rising prices, unemployment, crony capitalism and corruption, and the dangers to constitutional democracy, the incumbent party based its campaign on rebutting the allegations of the opposition while trying to drum up religious and communal sentiments against minorities.
Clearly, the political leaders do not see climate change as a worthy agenda to bring to the masses in their campaigns for votes because the people do not seem to demand such an agenda.&nbsp;
According to a pre-poll survey conducted by a New Delhi based Lokniti-Centre for the Study of Developing Societies in 2024, employment, inflation, and taxation were the primary concerns for the average Indian voter. Further, a survey of young Indians by Deloitte in 2023 found that Indian Gen Z place climate change as their fourth key concern after education, unemployment and mental health.&nbsp;
The Indian millennials do find climate change to be a major concern but not on the same plane as economic growth and unemployment. Perhaps this explains why climate change and ecological issues are still absent from the political thinking of the masses. Perhaps the green agenda is yet to find resonance with the average Indian voter who places more emphasis on what is rather controversially called the ‘brown agenda’ concerning the fulfilment of basic needs such as food, clothing and shelter.
However, in the larger scheme of things, this is rather dangerous. Climate change is an existential crisis for a country like India where the majority of the population are poor and thus particularly vulnerable to climate change-induced disasters. It is a country that still depends largely on agriculture for employment and food security – a sector inextricably reliant on favourable climatic conditions to flourish.&nbsp;
In the face of a changing climate, the future of the present and forthcoming generation is at best uncertain. The public has the responsibility to demand that their representatives and governments address issues of environmental degradation including emissions, air pollution, clean and safe drinking water, demand afforestation programmes and resist unnecessary clearing of forests for “development projects” without proper relocation or alternatives being planned.&nbsp;
The media should do its job by holding governments accountable and informing the masses about the state of the environment rather than being beholden to the powers that be. It is of crucial importance that the Indian public political discourse no longer remains limited to a rhetorical and polarising agenda of religion and caste, but attends to issues of the existential threats of climate change and environmental security. India’s future might depend on it.
Robert Mizo is Assistant Professor of Political Science and International Relations at the University of Delhi and holds a PhD in Climate Policy studies. He is currently a Research Fellow at the Toda Peace Institute, Tokyo.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2024/climate-change-the-missing-agenda-in-indias-recent-elections.html">the original</a> with their permission.

In the heat of the moment

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b569c7e80680e0c95b5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1170" height="739"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>As an unseasonal heat wave hit northern India earlier this year, Nepal Tourism Board launched a promotion campaign with the catchy Hindi slogan: “Garmi Se Behal? Chalo Nepal” (Suffering from the heat: Let’s go to Nepal).If current trends in global heating continues, that may be more than a tourism slogan.Many recent studies predict increased migration due to climate change-induced sea level rise, droughts, and extreme events. In fact, some of this is already happening in South Asia and across the world.People through history have migrated as a strategy to overcome various types of crises. Families and individuals take voluntary decisions to move to a new place, seeking a better life. Cities can act as powerful magnets for those seeking new opportunities.But increasing heat caused by the climate crisis is the new lived reality in the Indo-Gangetic plains. Rising wet-bulb temperatures (a combination of heat plus humidity) is emerging as a major health risk that could have significant socio-economic consequences such as migration.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b599c7e80680e0c95b6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="1200"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>An average ambient wet-bulb temperature of 35°C, if it persists for long enough, can lead to heat stress, heat stroke and even death. Sleeping outdoors at night or being in the shade cannot cool the body enough.Air conditioning can help, but low-income families cannot afford it. Surge in energy demand during recent heat waves has already caused frequent power cuts across the region as more energy for air-conditioning overloaded electricity networks.This year, I lived in New Delhi between March and June. The monthly electricity bill doubled compared to February. Increased use of air conditioning requires additional energy, which in India comes mostly from coal-fired thermal plants and add to greenhouse gas emissions.Chemical coolants used in older air conditioners models are about 7,000 times more potent greenhouse gases than carbon dioxide. Their increased use adds to further warming.In contrast to New Delhi, Kathmandu during this time felt naturally air-conditioned. But even Kathmandu Valley with higher humidity than in the past was uncomfortably hot in August and September. There were occasional power-cuts, and it was difficult to sleep without fans.Rising average global temperatures, heat island effects, and the degradation of natural ecosystems like water bodies and green spaces, combined with the added moisture in the air, will likely lead to increased heat in the Indo-Gangetic plains, Nepal’s Tarai and valley towns.So, will the rising average summer temperatures and heat in the Ganga plains and across the Indian landmass lead to increased migration to the cooler upland Himalayan areas in future?Theoretically, people may move to cooler regions like Uttarakhand, Himachal Pradesh, Darjeeling, as well as the mountains of Nepal and Bhutan. Just like when the British ruled India, they moved seasonally to ‘hill stations’ like Darjeeling, Shimla, and Nainital to avoid summers in the plains. When and how could that happen?Traditional migration patterns, however, have been the opposite, where people from the hills move to the cities in the plains for jobs and better economic opportunities.But during the summer, the Tarai and valley towns in the hills of Nepal will also get hot and humid. Temperatures are expected to rise in the Himalaya as well.There are other unknowns: How many people will move? Will it be internally from the Tarai plains, hot river valleys, or will people also cross national boundaries? Answers to these questions can have mind-boggling social and political implications.In the meantime, it may be worthwhile to reflect on past experience of the potential impact of mass tourism on sensitive Himalayan ecosystems so that we can take ameliorative action.Increasing heat will impact people’s ability to work, grow food, and seek health care. It will hurt the poor and elderly the most. In Nepal, we have not yet recognised increasing heat as a potential problem– both in terms of threats in the Tarai and river valleys, and the environmental implications of possible move of people up the mountains.There has been no systematic research of this issue. The least we can do is start to talk about it.Ajaya Dixit is Executive Director of the Institute for Social and Environmental Transition (ISET) Nepal.

Garmi Se Behal? Chalo Nepal.

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

Saving the Kusunda language from extinction

Turkish Airlines has been presented with the Sustainable Financing Pioneer Award by Ishka, recognising its landmark transaction that, for the first time, integrated a sustainability-linked loan structure into a multi-currency JOLCO financing model for the acquisition of two next-generation, fuel-efficient Airbus A321neo aircraft. This innovative transaction, arranged by Societe Generale, links the financing terms to Turkish Airlines’ Sustainability Performance Targets (SPTs), particularly the goal of reducing carbon intensity across its fleet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;“We believe this structure not only supports our fleet renewal and growth objectives, but also reinforces our long-term commitment to becoming a carbon-neutral airline by 2050,” said Chief Financial Officer Murat Şeker.