“Now with every gust of wind, the smell of dead bodies fills the air.” Thar Nge, a resident of Sagaing in Burma, was speaking to the conditions in earthquake-affected areas following the country’s catastrophic 7.7M earthquake on 28 March last month. Over four thousand people died in the disaster. For many in Nepal, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/photos-nepal-earthquake-2015,2207">scenes of the earthquake </a>on the news and photos on social media brought back painful memories of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">the 2015 Nepal earthquake</a> 10 years ago this week. As a data analyst at Togglecorp, a private data analysis and software development company in Kathmandu, I have worked on several projects that included reviews of secondary data related to the most recent earthquakes in Burma, Morocco, Türkiye-Syria, and Nepal. The data shows a clear pattern and painful gaps in how countries respond to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-tale-of-two-disasters">large-scale disasters</a>. Analysis conducted through the Data Entry and Exploration Platform (DEEP) reveals a clear but grim reality: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">the cost of earthquakes</a> is not just measured in lives lost or buildings destroyed, but also in the speed, equity, and coordination of response efforts.<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later"> Some communities rebuild</a>, many are left behind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250424070420_af853d6ca37b2e338a359939119c313cb40d19c4b15e9e2d6a910d04969f76a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250424070420_af853d6ca37b2e338a359939119c313cb40d19c4b15e9e2d6a910d04969f76a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1414" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Technology and tectonics"> </figure>  The data exposed not only shared struggles between Nepal, Burma and other countries that have suffered from earthquakes, such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/this-is-a-test">health system overloads and water-related disease outbreaks</a>, but also how drastically governance and politics affect outcomes. One theme that emerged, especially in Nepal and other countries in the region, is that earthquakes do not discriminate, but responses do. In the Burma earthquake, in some regions, 90% of homes were wiped out and over 28 hospitals were destroyed. Even as this happened, aid workers continued to face security threats while<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/helping-during-earthquake,2247"> delivering aid</a> and much-needed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/covid-19-relief-efforts">relief efforts</a>. Nepal faced similar hospital infrastructure challenges during the 2015 earthquake, where up to 90% of health facilities in districts like Sindhupalchok, Dolakha, and Gorkha were either destroyed or overwhelmed. In some areas, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-healer-of-far-western-nepal">doctors treated patients</a> in open fields, under tarpaulins, due to the collapse of ward buildings and lack of emergency tents. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/structural-problems">Structural problems</a>, Sonia Awale In the aftermath of the 2023 Türkiye-Syria earthquake, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera">cholera outbreaks </a>surged due to failed water, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/toilet-trained-in-nepal">sanitation and hygiene systems</a>, and temporary tents could not keep up with displacement needs. While Nepal did not experience cholera outbreaks on that scale, post-quake <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-success-in-typhoid-vaccine-trial">diarrheal diseases</a> and sanitation concerns were widely reported, particularly in temporary camps with inadequate toilet facilities and poor hygiene practices. After the September 2023 earthquake in Morocco, because of the inaccessibility of many of its mountain villages, families had to dig with their bare hands to clear rubble while medical staff were forced to treat the sick and injured outdoors. Nepal shares similar geographic challenges seen in Morocco and Burma. During <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-better-than-before">the 2015 earthquake</a>, landslides and damaged roads cut off villages in Rasuwa, Gorkha, and Lamjung, forcing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">rescue teams</a> to rely on helicopters. Even today, remote hill and mountain areas, especially in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-karnali-s-hunger-emergency">Karnali </a>and Sudurpaschim provinces, remain hard to reach during <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-more-women-die-in-nepal-s-natural-disasters">natural disasters</a>. While earthquakes are natural, the unequal and delayed response is manmade and preventable. Patterns across countries repeat, often due to preventable gaps. One glaring example is the chronic underfunding of Mental Health and Psychosocial Support despite growing recognition that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-an-emergency-nepal-needs-to-improve-trauma-care">trauma constitutes a silent second wave of devastation</a>. In Syria, only 3,000 people received <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14138">psychological first aid</a>, while over 1.5 million were displaced. In Burma, with over 9 million severely affected, most women and girls in areas like Sagaing and Mandalay had no access to<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13680"> mental health services</a>. Healthcare systems also collapsed quickly. Hospitals like Morocco’s Mohammed VI University Hospital treated patients outdoors, and Burma saw around 25 hospitals in Mandalay, 28 in Shan, 22 in Bago and 24 in Naypyitaw damaged or destroyed. While <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificially-intelligent-medicine">mobile medical units</a> have proven effective, reaching 7,870 people in Syria, they remain underused due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon">poor planning </a>and lack of pre-positioned support. Protection risks spiked in both Burma and Syria, where displaced women lacked safe shelters, lighting, or dignity kits. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">Nepal’s own experience in 2015</a> tragically echoes these patterns: mental health issues were sidelined, hospitals in districts like Sindhupalchok and Dolakha were affected, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/educating-your-sons-will-protect-your-daughters">gender-based protection</a> in temporary shelters was grossly inadequate. The lesson from this cross-country analysis is clear: unless countries like Nepal invest in mental health services, mobile health infrastructure, and gender-sensitive protection before disaster strikes, history will continue to repeat itself in harsh ways.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250424070424_d3c38d3935e61e2b4d0c2ec5b8fd67cc5f32b58ada6fb70fe979a12f8133ef1f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_25" data-image-id="20250424070424_d3c38d3935e61e2b4d0c2ec5b8fd67cc5f32b58ada6fb70fe979a12f8133ef1f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1414" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Technology and tectonics"> </figure>  Here is where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a> proves critical. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/finding-your-way-in-nepal?fbclid=IwAR3Ls8S90Qcjv8CYsuZb2QjaFaMKnOar0L2jDiT3D1o7hx8ipoJRrTUbXDI">Data and digital tools</a> can identify trends across borders, strengthen coordination, and improve early response. In Nepal, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/internet-in-everything">digital targeting tools</a> have helped humanitarian responders fine-tune who needs what and where, even in remote or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/civic-appeal-for-stability-and-governance">politically unstable settings</a>. For example, digital tools like Vulnerability Assessment Mapping and KOBO surveys were used after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake">Nepal’s 2015 earthquake </a>to identify <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">vulnerable households</a> in hard-to-reach areas of Sindhupalchok and Dolakha, helping responders deliver aid more accurately. These platforms ensure that responses are not only faster and more efficient but also cost-effective, avoiding duplication and ensuring that limited resources go where they are needed most. By collecting and analysing the right kind of data, including field reports, government updates, and third-party insights, the analysis through a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide">digital-first approach</a> can help shape a more inclusive, evidence-based response to disasters. The shift from ad hoc reaction to data-informed action allows us to save time, money, and lives. Ultimately, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/yes-quakes-can-be-forecast">earthquakes will continue to strike</a>, but how we respond can and must change. Tools like DEEP and the use of cross-crisis digital analysis are essential for humanitarian professionals to make smarter decisions, faster. With <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/back-to-classroom-for-earthquake-preparedness">better preparedness </a>plans, integrated <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bhaktapur-2-0-d8m66qhb">community-level responses</a>, and real-time insights, we can transform how governments and aid agencies protect people in moments of crisis. Earthquakes reveal more than seismic cracks: they expose the weaknesses in our humanitarian systems. And with the right tools and mindset, we can start sealing those cracks before the next tremors hit. Ruby Thapaliya is a Humanitarian Data Analyst with a background in public health, currently working at Togglecorp.

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Technology and tectonics

The relentless <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/solidarity-with-gaza" target="_blank">siege on Gaza</a> is a dark reflection on humanity. Well over <a href="https://reliefweb.int/report/occupied-palestinian-territory/100th-day-gaza-genocide-100000-palestinians-killed-missing-or-wounded-enar" target="_blank">100,000</a> Palestinians have been declared killed, injured, or missing over the past six months, and the overwhelming majority are innocent civilians who bear no responsibility for Hamas’ <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-confirmed-killed-in-hamas-attack" target="_blank">7 October attack.</a>&nbsp;
The United Nations Security Council has finally <a href="https://press.un.org/en/2024/sc15641.doc.htm" target="_blank">passed</a> a resolution calling for an immediate ceasefire and the immediate release of hostages held by Hamas. Now, all UN member states, particularly Israel’s political and military allies, must do everything in their power to ensure that the resolution is implemented in full as soon as possible.
For Gazans who survive Israel’s military assaults, a lethal combination of displacement, hunger, and disease awaits. Israel’s blockade of humanitarian supplies, food, and clean water has made life in the enclave a nightmare.&nbsp;
Aid agencies <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/world/women-gaza-birth-pregnancies-1.7143489#:~:text=Aid%20agencies%20and%20doctors%20say,and%20food%20for%20the%20infants." target="_blank">report</a> mothers giving birth without anaesthetics, babies dying from dehydration and malnutrition, and sickness ravaging entire communities. With no one in Gaza safe from massacre, we have reached the threshold of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2024/mar/22/unicef-official-utter-annihilation-gaza" target="_blank">population-scale annihilation</a>.
The trauma is now reverberating across the whole region. Gazans are haunted by post-traumatic stress disorder and grief, and more than one million children are in dire need of <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/en/statements/2024/02/child-rights-committee-statement-children-gaza" target="_blank">psycho-social support</a>. The latest devastation adds to the suffering inflicted by Israel’s 18-year-old <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/10/18/israel-unlawful-gaza-blockade-deadly-children" target="_blank">blockade of Gaza</a>.&nbsp;
And in the West Bank, Palestinians face multiple threats, from unconstrained settler violence and forced displacement to the constant threat of arbitrary detention.&nbsp;
At the same time, more than 100 Israelis and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-nepali-s-lucky-escape-from-hamas" target="_blank">many foreigners</a> are still held <a href="https://www.wsj.com/world/middle-east/hamas-hostages-israel-gaza-41432124" target="_blank">hostage</a> by Hamas, in contravention of international humanitarian law, prolonging the pain felt by their families and those of the civilians killed on 7 October.
Worse may come if Israel <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/the-international-order-is-dying-in-gaza" target="_blank">defies warnings</a> from its closest allies and moves ahead with its plans for an <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-68591487" target="_blank">assault on Rafah</a>, which is currently host to <a href="https://apnews.com/article/gaza-rafah-israel-hamas-war-photo-gallery-2a93ded7d44b9720d941f7e53c5bf45e" target="_blank">1.5 million people</a>, including over 600,000 children.&nbsp;
Many of those seeking refuge in this border city have already endured the trauma of multiple displacements over the past half-year. A full-scale Israeli military incursion must not be allowed to happen.
I write these words as someone who looked into the eyes of young Palestinians while preparing the 1996 UN report <a href="https://childrenandarmedconflict.un.org/about/the-mandate/mandate/the-machel-reports/" target="_blank">The Impact of Armed Conflict on Children</a>. Speaking to children in refugee camps, we promised that their suffering would end.&nbsp;
Not only have we failed to make good on that promise, we have left an even more hostile world for children who happen to be born Palestinian. I carry this haunting failure with me.
I also write these words as a member of The Elders, the group of independent global leaders that I co-founded with my late husband, Nelson Mandela, and which was chaired in its early years by Archbishop <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/columnist/desmond-tutu" target="_blank">Desmond Tutu</a> and former UN Secretary-General <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/columnist/kofi-a-annan" target="_blank">Kofi Annan</a>.&nbsp;
Madiba (Mandela) gave us a mandate to work for peace, justice, and human rights worldwide, and he always considered <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2023/12/5/unpack-the-past-mandela-the-keffiyeh-and-south-africas-palestine-embrace" target="_blank">Palestinian liberation</a> to be key to achieving a just and free world for all.&nbsp;
How can any of us speak credibly of universal human rights and the international rule of law when we permit brutality and occupation to continue for decades?
Amid such despair and lack of moral courage by those with the power to stop the current carnage in Gaza, I am proud of the exceptional leadership that South Africa has shown in bringing a <a href="https://www.icj-cij.org/node/203454" target="_blank">complaint against Israel</a> for violating the Genocide Convention at the International Court of Justice.&nbsp;
The ICJ’s preliminary ruling, on January 26, and the <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/jillgoldenziel/2024/04/01/why-the-international-court-of-justice-gave-israel-a-new-order/#:~:text=On%20March%2028%2C%20the%20International,what%20South%20Africa%20had%20requested." target="_blank">additional measures</a> ordered on March 28, explicitly condemn the atrocities taking place in Gaza and are unambiguous about the steps Israel must take to protect innocent Palestinians, including unhindered provision of humanitarian assistance at scale.
Israel and the countries providing it with military and financial assistance must heed the court’s findings and adhere to their obligations under international law. But we are not helpless in the face of this monumental suffering.&nbsp;
As members of one human family, we have an ethical duty to speak out against these injustices in our own circles of influence. We can wield power through our own individual and community activism. With our votes and protests, we can – and must – demand accountability from our political leaders.
Here is what we must demand. First, additional humanitarian land routes urgently need to be opened to meet the overwhelming need for life-saving aid. The safety of aid deliveries must be guaranteed at all times.&nbsp;
Air drops and the recently proposed <a href="https://www.middleeastmonitor.com/20240327-the-new-maritime-aid-corridor-poses-a-major-threat-to-gaza-and-egypt/" target="_blank">maritime corridor</a> are insufficient, and must not be allowed to absolve Israel of its own responsibility to civilians in Gaza.
Second, world leaders must use military and financial leverage to compel Israel to cease its violations of international law and comply with the ICJ’s orders. All countries providing military assistance to Israel should immediately put these shipments under review and set new conditions for future provision. Those that continue supplying arms are enabling the carnage and may be complicit in war crimes.
Third, decision-makers must provide full financial and political support to the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees. Many donors have rushed to <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/middle-east/20240205-as-donors-suspend-critical-funding-to-unrwa-allegations-against-staff-remain-murky" target="_blank">suspend funding</a> for the organization, pending the outcome of investigations into Israel’s allegations that some UNRWA staff participated in the October 7 attack.&nbsp;
This premature, disproportionate response is now irresponsibly endangering the rights and well-being of millions of Palestinian refugees. The Israeli government has made no secret of its desire to dismantle UNRWA once and for all. Will we allow it to become yet another casualty of the war?
The situation cries out for concerted action by a broad coalition of countries committed to a just and permanent peace that enables Israelis and Palestinians to co-exist under conditions of mutual respect, self-determination, dignity, and security. Palestinian and Israeli lives and security are of equal worth. If this fundamental truth does not prevail on political leaders and ordinary citizens, we will continue to forsake generations of innocent children.
Graça Machel is a Mozambican politician, Deputy Chair of The Elders and founder of the <a href="http://gracamacheltrust.org/new/" target="_blank">Graça Machel Trust</a>. She is the widow of former President of Mozambique Samora Machel and former President of South Africa Nelson Mandela. &nbsp;

The world’s moral failure in Gaza

Sha Bahadur Gurung was 30 years old when he was arrested for participating in a peaceful protest. He died aged 65 last week in Bhutan’s Chamgang Central Prison. He was among 31 prisoners of conscience in Bhutan, many of whom are serving long sentences for opposing the regime’s forcible expulsion of 100,000 of its Lhotsampa people in the early 1990s. ‘Mr Gurung died on 15 December in his prison cell under circumstances that raise serious concerns about custodial negligence and long-term abuse,” said a statement by the Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) based in The Hague which demanded an external probe, justice and release of remaining political prisoners. Gurung was from Chirang and was arrested in 1990 while serving in the Royal Bhutan Army, and accused of having sympathies for the Lhotsampa people. He was mostly held at the notorious Rabuna Prison in Wangdi Phodrang District.&nbsp; Gurung’s relatives in the United States said he had endured prolonged physical and psychological abuse during his imprisonment, and repeatedly subjected to torture and inhumane treatment. They believe the decades of ill-treatment had damaged his health, ultimately leading to his death. Earlier this month, Gurung was transferred from Rabuna to Chamgang Central Prison. On 14 December. He had gone to bed after dinner without any visible sign of distress. He was found unconscious in his cell the next morning.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224151248_5fc8305ecd320d89b9e343c04a1a897dc1353353da55b6d277f5398034b265ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251224151248_5fc8305ecd320d89b9e343c04a1a897dc1353353da55b6d277f5398034b265ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="1103" loading="lazy" alt="Sha Bahadur Gurung NT"> <figcaption>Sha Bahadur Gurung, who died at age 65 in prison in Bhutan after serving 30 years for expressing political opinion.</figcaption> </figure>  He was referred to a hospital in Thimphu, suggesting that he was still alive during transfer to a local health post. But it appears that he had already died before being taken from prison. Gurung’s death occurred two days before Bhutan’s National Day on 17 December, when families, supporters, and human rights advocates worldwide had hoped for the release of political prisoners through a royal amnesty. Instead, the death of one of the longest-serving political prisoners has caused grief and anger in the Bhutanese diaspora.&nbsp; “We strongly condemn the treatment and death of Gurung, a peaceful and justice-loving Bhutanese citizen,” the V statement said. ‘This tragedy raises serious questions about the treatment of political prisoners in Bhutan and stands in stark contrast to the country’s international image under the principles of Gross National Happiness, compassion, and mindfulness.’ Earlier this year, The <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/en/special-procedures/wg-arbitrary-detention/opinions-adopted-working-group-arbitrary-detention/opinions-adopted-working-group-arbitrary-detention-its-101st-session" target="_blank">United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the Bhutan government was detaining citizens without parole for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/detainees-in-dire-straits-in-bhutan-s-prisons" target="_blank">expressing political opinion</a>. The New York-based Human Rights Watch (HRW) said in 2023 that there were least 37 <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/03/13/bhutan-free-long-term-political-prisoners" target="_blank">political prisoners</a> in Bhutan’s jails. Of them, 32 belong to the Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa community, which has faced <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2003/06/18/nepal-bhutanese-refugees-rendered-stateless" target="_blank">decades of discrimination and abuse</a> and eviction. Most of them were convicted because of prohibited political activity between 1990 and 2008. One political prisoner, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-country-for-dissent?fbclid=IwAR07lpitMBWAYSkny_3d_smQBlmoxAOQm1OxdNtl-27h8mV0RNO9IxVY2qs" target="_blank">Madhukar Monger</a>, who was released in 2023 after serving 29 years described brutal conditions in <a href="https://www.hrw.org/asia/bhutan" target="_blank">Bhutan</a>'s jails. Political prisoners were not given enough food, and medical care, he said, urging the internaitoonal community to press for the release of prisoners of conscience.&nbsp; In March, <a href="https://www.hrw.org/about/people/meenakshi-ganguly" target="_blank">Meenakshi Ganguly</a>, Deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch, urged Bhutan’s international partners to call on the Bhutan government to release all remaining political prisoners immediately.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224161216_9d11a78ed5490091c595341900e4c26f5c0dd0328718f6930ef19c1e9b7f95a6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251224161216_9d11a78ed5490091c595341900e4c26f5c0dd0328718f6930ef19c1e9b7f95a6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1422" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan political prisoners NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224161216_176855f3d3df42d24ac7e77372bbf49115695b732a6c094a66267e969111dfca.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251224161216_176855f3d3df42d24ac7e77372bbf49115695b732a6c094a66267e969111dfca" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1420" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan political prisoners NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Bhutan political prisoner dies in detention

‘Get out of my house.’ ‘All my sickness is because of you.’ ‘You’re a millstone around my neck.’ Arundhati Roy heard these admonitions from her mother over and over throughout her life.&nbsp; This must be a singular, yet universal experience. There must be very few daughters who make it through life unscathed by their mothers. And vice-versa.&nbsp; How many of our mothers look at us and see in us the potential of all of the lives they could have lived? How many resent us for it, or want us to live those lives in their stead? And how many of us look back at our mothers and imagine what they would have achieved had they not been expected and assigned to play the role of wife, daughter-in-law, mother — had we never existed in their lives? How many mothers project their experiences onto their own daughters and continue the cycle? No daughter seems to escape it — no matter how well-behaved, docile, unruly, or rebellious. Certainly not the child who would go on to become a Booker prize-winning author. Arundhati Roy’s memoir Mother Mary Comes To Me chronicles her complex relationship with her mother Mary, or Mrs Roy, as her educator mother had her two children refer to her. In December, Arundhati Roy was in Kathmandu to sign books and briefly interact with readers at two bookshops in the city. She describes a childhood overshadowed by her mother’s volatility towards her and her brother. Mary herself was raised by an abusive father to escape whom she married the first man who proposed — Arundhati’s father who in her mother’s words turned out to be an alcoholic ‘Nothing Man’.&nbsp; Mary left her husband in Assam and eventually wound up with her two children in her town of Aymanam in Kerala, encountering other family members along the way who did not treat her, or her children with respect. The trauma and cruelty her mother endured could not be contained in her body, and spilled out onto her two children, towards whom she was physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive.&nbsp; While she treated her children with disregard, she would build a school in the nearby town of Kottayam from the ground up, educate thousands of children, take up a legal fight that led to the Supreme Court granting Syrian Christian women in India equal inheritance rights, and uplift many orphaned children and women in Kerala.&nbsp; Arundhati lived with both her mother’s brutality and brilliance. And like her daughter, readers must reconcile the indefensible parts of Mary Roy’s personality — the cruelty of calling her nine-year-old daughter a bitch, or shooting the family dog that mated with a stray — with her unyielding drive to educate thousands, fight for equal rights, and challenge the way her world viewed women.&nbsp; Mrs Roy had little kindness for her own children, but plenty for the students, children, and women whose lives she shaped, and made better. And her kindness was not rooted in empathy, but in anger at the hand she had been dealt in life. Eventually, Arundhati decided to temporarily cut all contact with Mrs Roy — not because she did not love her, she writes, but so that she could continue to love her. Her desire to get away from her abusive mother, and her fascination with the ideas inspired by the architect who built her mother’s school, would lead her to the Delhi School of Architecture at age 16. In Delhi, Arundhati became roommates with Hisila Yami before she and her Maoist ideologue husband Baburam Bhattarai went underground to lead Nepal’s decade-long armed struggle. &nbsp; But architecture was not her calling. In Delhi, the heart of India’s statecraft, Arundhati came into young adulthood against a backdrop of the country’s changing socio-politics, which began to take a turn for the hyper-nationalist, Hindu supremacist community that it has now largely become. The winds of those changes have now blown into Nepal. In the city, far from her mother, Arundhati met the man who would become her partner of many years, collaborating with him on several films and screenplays before finding the language (‘I needed to hunt [language] down like prey,’ she writes) she needed to become the writer she is now.&nbsp; She went on to write her Booker prize-winning novel The God of Small Things, but the wealth and status the book brought her did not sit comfortably. So she smashed her newly-built gilded cage, as she describes it, and became more political. Contrary to norm, she published several works of non-fiction, and would only publish her second novel, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, in 2017, 20 years after The God of Small Things. &nbsp;&nbsp; Her fierce opposition to India’s nuclear policies, to a dam that would displace millions of indigenous people and ecologically damage the Narmada Valley, her championing of Kashmiri self-determination, and her time spent with Maoist rebels in the forests of Chhattisgarh as they took up arms to defend their land and resources against corporate interests made her an enemy of the state.&nbsp; Meanwhile, being raised by a single mother had never sat well within her Syrian Christian community. ‘I wasn't Christian enough. I wasn't Hindu enough. I wasn't communist enough. I wasn't enough,’ Roy writes in her memoir. For all her love for India, the nation did not seem to reciprocate. The circumstances might be different, but it might strike a chord with readers in Nepal, many of whom marched on the streets in September hoping for a better tomorrow, but were gunned down by the very institutions meant to protect them. It might resonate with those who are not seen as citizens of this nation simply because they might not fit into an imagined idea of Nepali nationhood.&nbsp; Arundhati’s relationship with her mother, who was simultaneously proud and disdainful of her daughter’s accomplishments, continued to be tumultuous until the end of Mary Roy’s life.&nbsp; One of Mrs Roy’s last messages to her daughter before she passed was: ‘There is no one in the world whom I have loved more than you.’ Arundhati muses that her lifelong refusal to stop loving her mother must have finally breached her barriers. One wonders if that final declaration of love was solace enough, apology enough, for all the pain caused.&nbsp; But for Arundhati Roy, her love for her mother and her motherland outweighs the cruelty both have shown her. This, too, must be a singular, yet universal experience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122208128_32b171acb09df2184495367b74efd91fe2896b0f5ba75b276e1533276268761c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025122208128_32b171acb09df2184495367b74efd91fe2896b0f5ba75b276e1533276268761c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Mother Mary Comes to Me review"> </figure>

The sins of our mothers

Nepal’s Gurkha soldiers have a well-deserved reputation worldwide for uncommon valour and loyalty. However, what happened in Hawaii in 1986 and the long struggle for fair pay and pension shows that the formidable fighters from Nepal also do not tolerate injustice. The Hong Kong-based 1st Battalion of the 7th Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Gurkha Rifles was in Hawaii for jungle warfare training exercises at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center when they beat up their commanding officer, Major Corin Pearce. &nbsp;&nbsp; The Gurkhas said Pearce had insulted them, and 111 soldiers were dismissed. Pearce suffered broken ribs and a head injury, and was himself also discharged. The incident got worldwide publicity and enforced the belief that the Nepalis were not treated fairly in the British Army. It also led some retired soldiers to begin a decades-long struggle for compensation at par with their British peers.&nbsp; Retired British Gurkha soldier Shankar Rai in his book Triumph and Tears revisits the Hawaii incident which he witnessed, and also his experience in the Falkland Islands/Malvinas war in 1982.&nbsp; He has lots of grievances: unequal treatment and injustice from the British Army towards himself and his comrades. This is an indignant and disillusioned account of the good, the bad and the ugly of being a British Gurkha, which he says let him down despite his service and belief in it.&nbsp; The book could also be a cautionary tale of how one person on a power-trip can tarnish two centuries of the shared history of Nepal and the UK, as well as ruin the lives of those involved. It also is proof that loyalty should never be taken for granted. Four years after defeating the Argentinians in the Falklands, several companies and platoons of Gurkha rifles were stationed in Hawaii in 1986 for joint US-UK ‘Exercise Union Pacific’ military exercises. The goal was to ‘perfect the art of marine warfare in collaboration with the US Marine Force’. The rules were that a British Gurkha company commander needed to have the rank of major and pass a Nepali language test. Captain Pearce was the son-in-law of a British Brigadier on extra-regiment employment, and this rule was waived. He was appointed Acting Major. Pearce didn’t bother to learn Nepali language or culture, and from Rai’s account took every chance to belittle and embarrass the Gurkhas as poor, stupid, rude, backward, and lucky to be there. He writes: ‘After Captain Pearce reached Hawaii, he began to project himself as a master and the Gurkhas as servants, to show off to the Americans.’ The author also recounts other slights, such as only receiving a fourth of the rations they were due during hard training, being forced to train even when some of the soldiers had high fever, and claims to have ‘civilised’ the Nepalis.&nbsp; Pearce had been to eastern Nepal before the training and seen the grinding poverty. He kept telling the Gurkhas how lucky they were to be in the job, and that they were making ‘more money than Nepal’s prime minister’. During the final farewell party in Hawaii, Pearce set up tables to form a saluting platform, and asked the Gurkha pipe and drum band to march around him while playing. The enraged soldiers could not take it anymore, and after the party an inebriated group ran Captains Pearce and Chandra Kumar Pradhan out of their tents and beat them up. Both officers broke ribs, and the major needed 15 stitches on his head. ‘This sorry and unseemly episode is considered to have been entirely at odds with the Brigade of Gurkhas’ tradition of loyalty and gallant service in the British Army. It is regarded as an isolated and untypical event, which will not be permitted to detract from the high esteem in which the Brigade is held,’ reads the report of an investigation. Most of the 1/7 company soldiers were dismissed whether they had been involved in the assault or not. The author describes the shame that followed, with dismissed soldiers returning to Nepal with lost face.&nbsp; ‘I burned with humiliation, and life scared me,’ writes the author, whose father told him that he was ashamed to call him his son. ‘Many of my friends’ girlfriends left them and married other people. Rifleman Khem Gurung (21162015) of Itahari committed suicide,’ writes Rai, adding that those dismissed were blacklisted, and could not get other jobs.&nbsp; They tried to pursue legal action against the British Government, but backed down when they could not afford expensive hotshot lawyers, and would not have the money to cover the British government’s legal fees in the likely case of a loss in court. Gurkhas who had served for four years in the UK were allowed to move there, an option that many of those dismissed in the Hawaii incident took, including the author, who now lives in Oxford. Rai pours out his hurt and emotion in the book. Towards the end, he writes: ‘I depend on small jobs for livelihood. In the remaining time, I actively raise the issue of the victims of the Hawaii incident. We are burdened with insults, hatred, and contempt for a lifetime. It was harsher than a court martial, too heavy to bear.’ The is a slim book, and is a quick, engaging read of an incident 30 years ago, and Rai writes with a soldier’s precision. Even though the anger shows even after all these years, there is no over-dramatisation in the narrative.&nbsp; The first part of the book is about sailing across the South Atlantic in the QEII, which had been converted into a troop ship to take the Gurkhas to war. The soldiers from landlocked Nepal were mostly sea-sick, but were happy to get two cans of beer a day. Barclays Bank even had a branch on board. Rai’s descriptions of the friendships he developed in the Company and on the battlefield are poignant. They braved Argentinian bombs, dug trenches and fought through the rain in the Southern Hemisphere winter. There are vignettes of sharing tea with fellow Nepalis, seeing comrades fall, and finding pictures of wives and children in the pockets of dead young Argentine soldiers. Behind the prestige, honour and myths of being a Gurkha soldier, it seems this is just another job with nepotism, horrible bosses and bad pay. But such is the desperation that up to 20,000 young Nepalis still apply for 300 openings in the British Army every year. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Triumph and tears book details NT"> </figure>

Not taking loyalty for granted

This is the 77th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I was in Grade 3 when my father left for Saudi Arabia. Letters he sent occasionally contained photos. We had to get used to matching the person in the photos with him when he came home. Over two decades later, I left behind my son a day after he was born to go to Korea.&nbsp; He was five when I returned, and he just could not believe I was the same person he spoke on video calls. To convince him that it was indeed me, I had to call him on video from the other room.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021240_3eead7a26ee34bab17e1b462d3e53ae8b4dc95151478e55b09f2855989364015.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251224021240_3eead7a26ee34bab17e1b462d3e53ae8b4dc95151478e55b09f2855989364015" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  Technology, it turns out, is no replacement to proximity and physical presence.&nbsp; When my father was in Saudi Arabia, my mother died. My father could not return to Nepal immediately, and my grandmother took in my two sisters and me.&nbsp; My studies took a hit. I started working in a shoe shop, and earned Rs2,100 a month. I wanted to start a shoe shop with support from my father when he returned. He did not, and neither did my other relatives. Perhaps they doubted my business sense. Or they had other priorities.&nbsp; Whatever it was, this feeling of not having someone to back me up hit me deeply but give me confidence. Without alternatives, I decided to prepare to migrate to Korea. I studied for the language exam and was among the first cohort under the G2G scheme. When I was finally matched with a Korean employer, I could not be happier.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_5f681863a9aa99f31f3241158e636b32aca9fdaa7c3f5c19dd67e3de2068a3b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251224021248_5f681863a9aa99f31f3241158e636b32aca9fdaa7c3f5c19dd67e3de2068a3b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="823" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  Not having received any support from those around me, the Korean offer made me feel like I had won in life. My grandmother was happy because it would increase family income. She had three additional mouths to feed, and we were quickly growing up. She worried about getting my sisters married. My first stint in Korea, however, was not what I expected. I had to change jobs multiple times, either because the company I worked for was unable to pay me, there was no work, or I had an accident. The odds just were not in my favour. The global financial crisis had taken a toll on the economy.&nbsp; Even so, I managed to help pay for my sisters' weddings and had modest savings. But there was not much to show for it compared to my peers. Never again, I thought, as I said goodbye to Korea.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021240_f303dd30f922776a30a1871b38e5420534e73b99b7b1444b4658c4eca535d043.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251224021240_f303dd30f922776a30a1871b38e5420534e73b99b7b1444b4658c4eca535d043" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="1279" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  I came home and got married. I started a mobile repair shop. But it did not work out well either, and I was soon headed back to Korea despite my misgivings. I left a day after my son was born, and this time I was determined to make it work in Korea. I was placed in a company that made golf balls. It paid well, but the job was just for money, I needed to do something more with my future that would help me stand on my own feet once I was back in Nepal. I was intrigued by the three-in-one instant coffee sachets in Korea that had coffee, milk and sugar. Back home in our village in Kaski, our cooperative grew coffee that either went to waste or fetched very low prices. My sisters and I used to pick the sweet and tasty coffee cherries.&nbsp; I saw a great business prospect in turning the beans into coffee sachets, and started exploring this. That was my mission: to make instant coffee packets widely available in Nepal. It was just a matter of understanding the process so I went to a migrant resource centre in Korea to inquire about where I could learn this.&nbsp; I was advised to take barista classes, and I found out that sachet coffee is actually not healthy and I should instead learn about fresh brewed coffee. That seemed even more exciting. How coffee beans could be ground and sold for over Rs450 in Korean cafes that people waited in line for bemused me. During my free time, I spent all my energy learning about coffee. I took training in barista, coffee sensory, machine repair and roasting. I had to rely on the generosity of Koreans who were willing to take a chance on me as I had different constraints such as lack of network, a busy work schedule at my regular job but even then, people offered to help.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021244_86bbfcdcbe8925c46efac526225aea226b7987290f8107e991d8e764cbb01155.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251224021244_86bbfcdcbe8925c46efac526225aea226b7987290f8107e991d8e764cbb01155" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee NT"> </figure>  I was so obsessed that whenever I spent time on leisure activities during days off, I felt guilty. My golf ball job was just for income, I had to invest in my real post-Korea life. Balancing work and learning everything about coffee was not easy. Not only did I pay for some of the lessons, I even skipped overtime hours for them. But this was for my future. I must have consulted over a dozen coffee experts in Korea to share their experience and connect me to people. I could not afford to be shy about asking strangers for help. When the pandemic hit, we were granted a one-year visa extension, and I took it as an opportunity to invest in myself. I had seen great business prospects for coffee machine repair service in Pokhara because people had to rely on Kathmandu. But to learn machine repair and maintenance, I had to spend more time and weekend classes were not going to be sufficient.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_18996ee0b6292070add202cf948f5b0b5a09e5b11022b9d961a68a5a886fc5f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251224021248_18996ee0b6292070add202cf948f5b0b5a09e5b11022b9d961a68a5a886fc5f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1138" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  I moved to a training company and worked just enough to maintain my legal status. I did not take overtime shifts. Even my roommates barely saw me because I used to come home long after our duty hours from my coffee training. I also needed actual job experience so I asked my trainer to let me shadow him at work.&nbsp; The on-the-job exposure to repair and maintenance work gave me more confidence and expertise. When I returned to Nepal, I came home with a suitcase full of coffee machine parts. I have started a coffee shop called Jumli, provide machine repair services and have also started growing my own coffee. The idea is to be a one stop shop for all players in the coffee industry, whether it is farmers or coffee shop owners who need Nepal-grown coffee or machine repair services or coffee lovers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_0fd28dab75d1eddbc16ab0aeda2ce7fcd4aceb07e7a381d4ce872b5184bea086.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251224021248_0fd28dab75d1eddbc16ab0aeda2ce7fcd4aceb07e7a381d4ce872b5184bea086" data-rendition-name="original" width="1321" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  It is not always easy being an entrepreneur in Nepal. Sometimes, when I am on shaky ground, I close my eyes and talk to my mother in my head for clarity. Some of these conversations are replays of the things she told me when I was growing up. I didn’t take them seriously then, but now they offer important nuggets of wisdom about life, society, and how to navigate difficult times. I have a lot of hope for the future. I am now laying the groundwork to one day export Nepal’s specialty coffee to the international market, meeting global standards of quality. Programs like the Returnee Innovators for Nepal (RIN) help in equipping you with the skills to better pitch your business and give exposure and networks. Even now, I rely on my trainer in Korea for guidance or to access spare parts that are not available in Nepal. I have come a long way from the day I cluelessly chose ‘American-O’ coffee because it was the easiest drink to pronounce in the menu. I never thought I would be making a living from coffee back home in Nepal one day.&nbsp;

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Bhutan political prisoner dies in detention

The sins of our mothers

Not taking loyalty for granted

From ‘American-O’ to Jumli