Bidhya Chapagain left a secure job in journalism in which she has already become a household name in Nepal to venture out to fulfil her passion in journalism -- to give a voice to those who have been deprived of it. She started her own video production group to go around the country to talk to people whom journalists never bothered to report about. The stories she brought out were so important in shining the light on a Nepal that was invisible to Kathmandu that it became most-seen on YouTube and other social media. “I was living my journalism dream at the BBC, but as I travelled for work and saw that we were telling the same stories of the same people, I realised that this was not my dream," said Chapagain during her conversation with Rajneesh Bahndari of Nepal Investigative Multimedia Journalism Network (NIMJN) at the HImal Media Mela 2023.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504060520_1df44df7843f5dee5c7a3752c63e2d07a9be3e8eef0312e30f4f62e6256e44ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230504060520_1df44df7843f5dee5c7a3752c63e2d07a9be3e8eef0312e30f4f62e6256e44ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela Day 2- Going Back to Good Storytelling"> <figcaption>Rajneesh Bahndari and Bidhya Chapagain. All photos: GOPEN RAI AND SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  So Chapagain and her colleague Kamal Kumar set out to find those extraordinary stories of ordinary people across Nepal largely ignored by mainstream media. They knew that these stories needed to be told through video since it is the medium most suited to the stories, but also because they had some expertise in it.&nbsp; Five years down the line, Herne Katha has broadcast 104 episodes and is one of the most popular and credible Nepali shows known for bringing impactful and extraordinary stories from some of the remotest parts of the country. The team was recently in Accham and locals easily recognised them as ‘Herne Katha’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504070524_4c8572857a8426c2661a020290285c11abfd88cabff0a69088f2f2f509422c67.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230504070524_4c8572857a8426c2661a020290285c11abfd88cabff0a69088f2f2f509422c67" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- Going Back to Good Storytelling"> <figcaption>Bidhya Chapagain</figcaption> </figure>  “It is not as difficult to find the subject matter or stories, we have to want to find them in the first place,” said Chapagain, recounting some of the risky trips she had taken to document her characters for Herne Katha.&nbsp; But while new age digital shows like Herne Katha have the audience, sustainability continues to be a challenge. Chapagain revealed that YouTube revenue is not as significant and the team also relies on advertisement, membership and donations.&nbsp; Said Chapagain: “It has been five years but we still have not figured out a business model best suited to us. But if we want to sustain and continue telling the stories, we must figure it out.” The business side of news  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504070528_69fc80c46460ab73c782b5f9b7c3bfa8bdbe91087f3f5b9ff26f4500c6f2e062.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230504070528_69fc80c46460ab73c782b5f9b7c3bfa8bdbe91087f3f5b9ff26f4500c6f2e062" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- Digital Reader Revenue"> <figcaption>A panel on Digital Reader Revenue.</figcaption> </figure>  Across the world and in Nepal, eyeballs have moved online but advertisers have not. This has made the sustainability of legacy media increasingly difficult at a time when even online portals are competing with the new age mass media like TikTok, YouTube and Facebook for both audience and revenue.&nbsp; How readers consume news have also changed media’s traditional business model but the print still brings in the money, said Sambridhi Gyawali of Nepal Republic Media which publishes Nagarik Daily. “We haven’t been able to monetise digital platforms, paywalls have not worked in Nepal,” she added during the panel Digital Reader Revenue.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504070528_4efc53201ef0de22dcac55a43124d37a9e165f07f2339a3741c7e193ee173872.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230504070528_4efc53201ef0de22dcac55a43124d37a9e165f07f2339a3741c7e193ee173872" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- Digital Reader Revenue"> <figcaption>Sambridhi Gyawali</figcaption> </figure>  Ameet Dhakal, editor of Setopati which pioneered long-form online portal in Nepal shared the humble beginnings of the digital platform, and financial challenges they faced in the early days while also the crisis Nepali media as a whole is undergoing. “It used to be cheaper to advertise in online portals because they didn’t have high operating costs of printing but now advertisers have even cheaper platforms like Facebook and Google who don't even need to pay people in Nepal,” added Dhakal. “We are now facing the same problem that print media has been facing for a while now.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504070528_983f3b9c42b40ff3b9b1f1630b4371ea9cd8d80f04eef172662a0b326fd41c18.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230504070528_983f3b9c42b40ff3b9b1f1630b4371ea9cd8d80f04eef172662a0b326fd41c18" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- Digital Reader Revenue"> <figcaption>Ameet Dhakal</figcaption> </figure>  Traditional media has always relied on advertisements but it is also known to interface with editorial decision-making. Recently, there has been a new model entirely based on contributions from readers. Pranaya Rana was with an independent online portal The Record Nepal (TRN) before it closed down last year, unable to sustain itself financially. “The idea was to get the grant and eventually move on to the membership model but we failed. Maybe Nepal is not ready for it yet, the fact that we are an English publication didn’t help matters,” said Rana who now publishes Off the Record, a weekly newsletter every Friday.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504070536_e3aadb74467fe8e5493fb0dbad39ae16df2b39767343c3665da5fcbb956acd61.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230504070536_e3aadb74467fe8e5493fb0dbad39ae16df2b39767343c3665da5fcbb956acd61" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- Digital Reader Revenue"> <figcaption>Pranaya Rana</figcaption> </figure>  He added: “But we have realised that we need a business plan and we cannot ignore the market, we are trying to figure out how we can bring in the advertisements without compromising our journalism.” Much like the TRN, Ukaalo has joined Nepal's cybersphere as an independent digital platform that relies entirely on contributions. Said co-funder Amod Pyakuryal: “Public supported media have worked elsewhere so why not in Nepal? We have people who are well educated and informed, they can pay us for unbiased agenda setting content.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504070536_a5be03ea31d7589d7cf026ce235c98f18fe9d47e087c956990bcb0b2e06e6f7a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230504070536_a5be03ea31d7589d7cf026ce235c98f18fe9d47e087c956990bcb0b2e06e6f7a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- Digital Reader Revenue"> <figcaption>Amod Pyakuryal</figcaption> </figure>  Meanwhile Gyawali noted that it might be time for an internal reflection for Nepali media and the kind of content that is being dished out. To that effect, Rana added that the media should be writing and developing content for the younger generation. “But our young generation are hooked into TikTok. First, we have to find ways to get the content they want and only then we can think about monitisation,” he added.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023050408050_8f139dd0e78ede3cbc4f0961d3e301319c6b3ff76a48e6a1c7ddff7efcbffbae.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023050408050_8f139dd0e78ede3cbc4f0961d3e301319c6b3ff76a48e6a1c7ddff7efcbffbae" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1400" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela- Digital Reader Revenue"> <figcaption>Madhu Acharya</figcaption> </figure>  But interestingly, while audiences are consuming content on social media and on online portals, the general public do not trust them, they still trust mainstream media over others, noted moderator Madhu Acharya of the Sharecast Initiative quoting the recent survey conducted by his organisation as he concluded the panel.&nbsp; Climate change in media&nbsp; The climate emergency is arguably the biggest crisis of our times. How the media cover it can define the actions to be taken for adaptation and mitigation, and how soon.&nbsp; “Europe realised the impacts of climate change early on and began to take action. It took 25 or so more years for the US to catch-up. This was because of the coverage in he European media,” noted Kunda Dixit, author of Dateline Earth: As If the Planet Mattered during the panel on covering the climate crisis. “European media had a more global outlook, published news from around the world, and pressured their governments.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504090516_e393bf333d549e0027dbcf31d8db33062fc0c082343159110426d1af5d99cc0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20230504090516_e393bf333d549e0027dbcf31d8db33062fc0c082343159110426d1af5d99cc0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- How the Media Can Cover the Climate Crisis"> <figcaption>Kunda Dixit</figcaption> </figure>  But for the media to inform the public and the policymakers alike they need to understand the science themselves. Also speaking at the panel, atmospheric scientist Arnico Panday said that Nepali media has been focusing on weather, not so much climate which is measured over a longer period. Panday is now a meber of the RSP, wch is the fourth largest party in Parliament. Nitu Ghale who is with the Annapurna Post shared her experience of trying to highlight stories on climate change while also tackling inherent challenges. “There is just not enough data and even when there is data, they are not managed properly. It is also not easy to get the right experts to talk to,” she added.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504090516_5f3ce88cc495c15800896ef8b51dd82344ec0cf46fdaf4b6f72b414bdea2ede6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230504090516_5f3ce88cc495c15800896ef8b51dd82344ec0cf46fdaf4b6f72b414bdea2ede6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- How the Media Can Cover the Climate Crisis"> <figcaption>Nitu Ghale</figcaption> </figure>  But either way, climate change often does not get the prominence it deserves in Nepali media, often sidelined by the political and economic issues. But panellists stressed that climate change is not an environmental issue for us but rather economic and political.&nbsp; Nepal’s import of petroleum is polluting the air and worsening public health but it is also emptying our foreign reserves. Petroleum accounts for over 20% of Nepal’s import. Switching to electric mass transit would save billions.&nbsp; “What Nepal does or does not won’t save the planet but will save our economy from collapsing and maintain our political independence by reducing our trade deficit, so they should be given the prominence they deserve in our coverage,” explained Dixit. “But having said that, climate change is becoming more of an excuse for leaders to blame their inaction and the discount governance failures and historical state neglect.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230504090516_8d4b3a774da7b2ec877f74278f6c3a256428d8acc694c3243699ebe2cee307ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20230504090516_8d4b3a774da7b2ec877f74278f6c3a256428d8acc694c3243699ebe2cee307ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- How the Media Can Cover the Climate Crisis"> <figcaption>Panel on How the Media Can Cover the Climate Crisis.</figcaption> </figure>  But not everything is lost. China is developing itself as the centre of green energy whereas the United States under Biden has committed to convert 35% of all the automobiles into battery operated vehicles in eight years.&nbsp; Arnico Panday admitted that he entered politics after realising that science is not enough to bring urgent change to problems like air pollution and climate crisis. He asked the audience to vote for the party that actually works to resolve the climate emergency, among others, in the next election -- amidst much applause from the rapt audience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023050409058_bfebb45fb60bbb93f1a9b833ec83e0a3f43b6a00c117b7295f7e42a4d6bc8c8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2023050409058_bfebb45fb60bbb93f1a9b833ec83e0a3f43b6a00c117b7295f7e42a4d6bc8c8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023- How the Media Can Cover the Climate Crisis"> <figcaption>Arnico Panday</figcaption> </figure>  Nepali translation of Dixit’s Dateline Earth: As If the Planet Mattered and the third edition of the English version were launched following the panel discussion. The book has now been translated into five Asian languages.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023050410050_ce529ecb914b5e946464e039722db60313f3a13a057a93c444f1538cba80aa35.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2023050410050_ce529ecb914b5e946464e039722db60313f3a13a057a93c444f1538cba80aa35" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2023-Dateline Earth Book Launch"> <figcaption>Nepali translation of Dateline Earth: As If the Planet Mattered and the third edition of the English version were launched following the panel discussion.</figcaption> </figure>

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Journalism is all about storytelling (and money)

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b932b9c7e80680e06f18ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1778" height="1000"/><figcaption>All photos: HERNE KATHA</figcaption></figure>The Euro 2020 matches are live on television, and many are watching the replays the next morning. But what is really going viral in Nepal these days is a short program of grandmothers playing a football match in the mountains of Lamjung district.Two teams made up of members of the local Mother’s Group of Siurung village face each other on a school football ground. The clip of the match is on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/hernekatha" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">social media</a> accounts of the web series <a href="https://hernekatha.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Herne Katha</a>, and is accompanied by a running commentary, complete with slow motion replay of a free kick that is saved by goal-keeper Yoju Gurung.“We saw the grandchildren playing, and I thought why shouldn’t I also have a go at it before I die,” says 67-year-old Gurung.<blockquote>आजको फुटबल खेल पनि सुरु हुनै लागेको छ । आमा समूह दुई वटा टिममा बाँडिएका छन् । रेफ्रीले खेल सुरु भएको संकेत गरिसकेका छन् । लताकुञ्ज विद्यालयको रंगशालामा भइरहेको खेल हेर्न खचाखच दर्शक उपस्थित छन् ।<a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/chhotokatha?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#chhotokatha</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/hernekatha?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#hernekatha</a> <a href="https://t.co/QwD7FHIWoM">pic.twitter.com/QwD7FHIWoM</a>— Herne Katha (@hernekatha) <a href="https://twitter.com/hernekatha/status/1404419600905904137?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">June 14, 2021</a></blockquote>Posted on YouTube and broadcast on Kantipur Television every alternate Tuesday at 6:30pm, the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZuKpNyipL9W-OkKwCMwVNQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">web series</a> Herne Katha has uplifting stories of struggle, survival and triumph — a message especially important at a time when Nepalis are suffering such hardships.Manjuliya Devi walks briskly through her village Morang district, going house to house to cut the hair and trim beards of residents. She has little time to waste, wedding guests are lining up. Her son wants his elderly mother to stop working, but Manjuliya Devi says she will not stop.Near the Dang-Rolpa border, Yam Bahadur Gharti and his young son Purna Bahadur work in the districts’ coal mines, deep in the belly of the scraggly hills. Father and son have taken a break for lunch, and talk about families back home who depend on their earnings.In Surkhet, a clan of Raute nomads prepare to pack up their settlement and move on to the next in Surkhet. Their timeless method of Swidden farming is now <a href="https://nt.exposure.co/last-but-not-least" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">threatened</a> by roads and monetised markets.In Marpha of Mustang district, village elders are alone in the village below Dhaulagiri with their livestock and dogs. Everyone else has moved down to Kathmandu or Pokhara to escape the harsh winter.These recent programs on Herne Katha unite Nepalis by showing us the lives of other Nepalis, providing hope and optimism at a time when most have little of both. The series that began airing in 2018 is created by ex-BBC journalists Bidhya Chapagain and Kamal Kumar who are constantly on the road to the remotest corners of Nepal to profile ordinary Nepalis living extraordinary lives.Kumar and Chapagain met in 2003 when they took up a job at the same radio station. Kumar had come to Kathmandu after high school and enrolled in a journalism program, having, as he puts it, fallen into journalism. Chapagain had also always wanted to be a journalist. As their careers progressed, their paths would constantly cross.“In those early days, our work almost exclusively involved going to the Reporters Club and waiting around for the politician of the day to give their speech,” recalls Kumar.Chapagain nods, adding: “Or we would have to go to hotels to cover workshops and conferences.”They are seated, Chapagain on the floor and Kumar on a beanbag chair, and complete each other’s sentences with the ease of two people who have been colleagues for a long time.In locked-down Lalitpur, their office is quiet but for the sporadic rain outside and the occasional click of the mouse as the editor, Sandesh Pariyar, works in the other room on an upcoming project.Kumar and Chapagain both worked for BBC Media Action’s debate program Sajha Sawal as producers. Chapagain would eventually become the presenter of the popular show, a role that propelled her to celebrityhood.Yet even as their careers flourished, professional discontent had begun to creep in. The structure of the show, the Kathmandu-centred happenings, and interviewing politicians had become tiresome.The two got along and worked well together, and at tea break would talk about doing something different, something more fulfilling. When they quit the BBC they were still not sure about the next stage in their careers, and the only thing they knew for sure was that they wanted to keep working on video.Without equipment, they rented a small room as an office and started to brainstorm. Says Chapagain, “We got out of our comfort zone and took a risk. It was fearful and exciting at the same time.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b932f9c7e80680e06f18fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It was not until they were working on their documentary Marisakeko Manchhe, which won the Nepal Panorama Best Documentary at the Kathmandu International Mountain Film Festival, that they realised what kind of stories they wanted to tell. Herne Katha was born and uploaded its first video three years ago about young female Muslim students in Kapilvastu.“We had hoped for at least 20,000 views, but we got almost 50,000 in two days,” Chapagain remembers.Getting out of a structured media environment allowed the two to be more flexible and experimental. It also made them accountable for their own content, says Kumar.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b93339c7e80680e06f190jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3264" height="2448">Editor Sandesh Pariyar joins in the conversation, and says it is the power of the story that is most important. And it has to be told with a minimalist approach in editing and camerawork, so that there are no distractions from the story being told.Pariyar is a visual editor, and relatively new to the team. He says about his previous job, “I used to sit in the editing room and I could predict exactly what a politician would say and when even before I saw the clips. That is why I quit.”Three years on, things are changing, and the storytellers agree it is largely due to the increasing reach of YouTube, with 60% of Nepalis surveyed saying they use the platform.  Almost 70% of the Herne Katha viewership is in the 18-35 age group and the program is very popular in the Nepali diaspora.“Once, in a remote village in Achham, a young man asked if I was from Herne Katha,” says Chapagain, who says the views on YouTube and being frequently on the trending list proves that their program is spreading a powerful positive message.“Some of our best stories have come from the audiences themselves,” Chapagain says. One such program was Mayako Katha, about a family in Kupondole which takes care of 17 pets and other street dogs in its automobile workshop.Chapagain and Kumar say they are not activists, they believe they are doing the kind of ethical journalism they learnt about in college, keeping true to their own personal values.The program gets loads of feedback. Young people reach out to say the programs have made them understand their own country better. Teachers show Herne Katha videos to students in class.“Most people in the cities who interact within their circle of people on the echo chamber that is Twitter have not seen the country. On the other hand, a larger part of the country is unconcerned with the discourse on those platforms. They have their own struggles,” says Kumar, of the characters in their videos.Chapagain agrees that the mainstream media is also recognising the importance of grassroots storytelling, and that politics is not the only story.“Stories do not need to be issues at all, it could just be people going about their daily lives,” she says “And it is good to see evidence that the lives of ordinary Nepalis are worthy of being on the front pages.”

Shristi Karki

The extraordinary lives of ordinary Nepalis

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Nepal election live results

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

RSP’s activist DNA

It took the September GenZ firestorm and public anger against non-performing actors for a 35-year-old structural engineer and rapper Balendra (Balen) Shah to oust Nepal’s four-time prime minister and former revolutionary.
The UML’s KP Oli has been trounced by 50,000 votes in his home turf, an area where he has won many elections in his 55-year political career. It is the same story across Nepal, where established politicians are being rejected by voters.
A 'Balen Wave' has swept the country, dyeing it in the RSP’s Blue party colour. But the UML and NC particularly did this to themselves.&nbsp;
An apology and a retirement after the September protests would have saved Oli some dignity, and given the rebranded UML a tiny bit of hope and perhaps a few more electoral wins.&nbsp;
Maybe he could have been remembered fondly as the funny old guy who made one last fatal political error, but now he will be defined by this defeat. Maintaining control and legitimacy in his own party will be hard too.&nbsp;
Contrary to his past combativeness and blaming nefarious foreign conspiracies, Oli gracefully conceded on Saturday, congratulating 'Balen Babu' &nbsp;and wishing him 'a successful five years'.
Balendra Shah and his RSP knew what they were doing. As of Sunday, it has won 118 and leads in 7 other constituencies, a lot of them with similarly wide margins of victory. RSP candidates have even beaten well regarded candidates like Gagan Thapa of the NC and Kulman Ghising of Ujyalo Nepal.&nbsp;

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 <video controls src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026030817030_de0fcd0c749f165992c75cbfcb94a19b086018ffcda1d151bd55e71331f4e934.mp4" alt="" width="100%" height="100%"></video>
 <figcaption>Animation: ANUP TAMU</figcaption>
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Many including this paper questioned the RSP's strategy of choosing popular candidates over competence. But the point of an election is to win it, and there was a short campaign window to put it all together and the RSP pulled it off most successfully.&nbsp;
To be sure, the party should not get too much credit. Its manifesto was broad and bland, and no different than the other older parties.&nbsp;
A big part of the RSP ballots, maybe even most of it, were people voting against the old parties rather than for it. Many seemed to feel that this was coming, and perhaps even hoped for it.
There is also a sense of lingering cynicism. Nepal has had several revolutions and many new political starts and things always seem to end up in the same corrupt hopelessness. There is every possibility that the new RSP government will also go the same way.&nbsp;
The RSP is much bigger than Balendra Shah, although it was his popularity that made this victory possible. Its victory brings with it a sense of hope as all new things do.&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://election-geo-dashboard.pages.dev/" width="100%" height="600" frameborder="0"> </iframe></div>
Not all party members who were elected are going to be as accountable or have integrity. Many of them have a chequered past, saw an opportunity in joining the RSP and took the risk.&nbsp;
What changed things were the events of September. Politicians saw firsthand that 'Power to the People' is not some abstract idea. Get too loose to it, forget that you are ruling and not serving, and you get booted out.&nbsp;
The interim Sushila Karki government deserve credit for delivering on its biggest mandate of holding the election in such a short time frame. The expectation at large was that the polls would be delayed or even scuttled.
In fact, a two-thirds RSP majority is a great opportunity to rethink the country’s political culture and institutionalise change. The point of the government in a democracy is to serve the people. Appointing non-political, competent people worked, at least in the short tenure of the interim government.&nbsp;
Adding layers of bureaucracy and committees and party politics along federal, provincial and local levels heaped resistance to the simple goal of making lives easier for the Nepali.&nbsp;
Nepal is getting a reboot, and the next few months will show whether the country is on the right track with its new generation government.

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

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

herne-katha

Journalism is all about storytelling (and money)

The extraordinary lives of ordinary Nepalis

Nepal election live results

RSP’s activist DNA

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.