<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13eb9c7e80680e0a994fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Agriculture is one of the largest contributors to climate change but can also be one of the most significant solutions. All photos: ZACHARY BARTON</figcaption></figure>As a farmer and educator living in Nepal, I was not part of the dialogue at the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/copout-at-cop26/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">UN climate summit (COP26)</a> that just concluded in Glasgow. None of us here were.And as world leaders, climate scientists, and corporate lobbyists return to their respective countries from Glasgow, here in the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2009/12/22/look-east/">mountains of eastern Nepal</a> I myself wonder what, if anything, they have accomplished in terms of real change. And what the implications will be for ‘the rest of us’.I wonder if these state bureaucrats and business representatives are the right people to look to for guidance and innovation to address the climate catastrophe. Which voices are clearly represented at the table? And which are conspicuously absent?The Nepali delegation has already <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/good-cop-bad-cop/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">returned home setting itself ambitious targets</a> and timebound pledges to achieve them. Nepalis have to cope with the impact of climate change, for which farmers here were not responsible. Yet, we are asked to implement solutions that, similarly, come from afar.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13ef9c7e80680e0a9950jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1504" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This is not to say <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-greening-of-the-khumbu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reforestation</a>, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/net-zero-is-not-zero/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">net-zero carbon emissions</a>, and providing some level of protection and support for vulnerable populations are not important. In fact, they are precisely what Nepal (and all other countries) should be working towards to minimise the impact of climate change. The real questions are: How? Who should get it done? And on what scale?Solutions at conferences such as COP26 invariably tend to lean towards high-tech possibilities, international policy agreements, and large-scale restructuring. There is, however, another approach: small-scale, local, and grassroots <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/building-an-information-bridge-for-nepals-farmers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">agriculture</a>.While local regenerative agriculture is rarely discussed at the high table, such an approach may prove to be much more in line with Nepali culture and economy. A home-grown solution that returns political agency and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/save-farms-empower-farmers-nepal-citizens-appeal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">innovation to local people</a> on the ground.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13f29c7e80680e0a9951jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="844"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13f59c7e80680e0a9952jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="966" height="838"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Agriculture has become something of a dirty word for climate activists, and with some justification. It is estimated that agriculture accounts for roughly 23% of greenhouse gas emissions worldwide. That makes it comparable to big industry, transportation and electricity production, which means it significantly contributes to climate change.But not all ‘agriculture’ is equal. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-part-of-un-campaign-to-reverse-nature-loss/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Regenerative agriculture</a> has the potential to sequester carbon from the atmosphere and redistribute it to soils where it could have various positive impacts. Unlike many other industries, agriculture has the potential to transition from being a Big Problem to a Big Solution.How we relate to land today is our most egregious lapse in judgement. Whether it is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-must-save-nijgad-forest-to-receive-climate-funds/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">razing jungles</a> for timber, draining precious wetlands, overfishing sacred waters, or converting grasslands to large-scale, chemical-based agriculture, we seem to have forgotten the most basic natural law: reciprocity. We cannot extract and drill and harvest and mine with no thought of giving back.<iframe style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fzachary.barton.75%2Fposts%2F4576351889075408&amp;show_text=false&amp;width=500" width="500" height="417" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13f89c7e80680e0a9953jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Fortunately, there is a way to approach agriculture that maintains a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18437#.YZkFPS8RqLc">reciprocal relationship with the local ecosystem</a>. Agroecology, to put it simply, is a farming that incorporates the principles of ecology so that agriculture becomes a means of giving back.A local jungle is a source of natural foods, medicines, fibres and energy sources, but instead of automatically clearing and putting it to the plough, we must recognise that it also cleans and conserves water, soils, regulates temperature, and provides a habitat for other living beings. And, to circle back to climate concerns, importantly, that jungles capture carbon.Managing land, under the auspices of <a href="https://agroecologyprinciple.cidse.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">agroecology</a>, entails revitalising a different kind of relationship with the soil. It starts with understanding the principles of ecology and how nature works. Diversity, recycling, systems thinking, interconnectivity, and that the sun is the ultimate source of energy are just a few.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13fb9c7e80680e0a9954jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1035"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d13fe9c7e80680e0a9955jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1124"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>What does that look like on a farm? A diversity of plants being grown together in what is known as a polyculture, animals moving across the landscape as happens in nature.Let’s start with the soil. We put a man on the moon 62 years ago, but we still know nothing about the world below our feet, the soil in which all life comes from. Through over ploughing, mono-cropping and the use of chemical fertilisers we have effectively killed all the life in the soil, from beneficial microbes to worms and all other life which presides there.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d14029c7e80680e0a9956jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d14059c7e80680e0a9957jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1124"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In killing the soil, we released massive amounts of carbon into the atmosphere and compromised its ability to capture the carbon back. And in this dead soil, we grow plants which are chronically sick and are not able to ward off pests and disease. Plants are completely dependent on chemicals for their survival. We then eat these sick plants which give us <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/food-for-thought-for-nepals-nutrition-planners/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">little nutrition</a>, and we become sick ourselves.So, while others look to the sky for solutions, let us take a glance down at the most important ecosystem of all, the soil below our feet.  If farmers in Nepal can step up and lead the change, the politicians will come stumbling after.Zachary Barton is a permaculture designer, activist and teacher who has been living in Nepal since 2003. He established Almost Heaven Farm in 2013, where he researches, demonstrates and trains local farmers and international visitors in permaculture design, earth-based building and ecological restoration.

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Agroecology, Nepal’s answer to climate change

Three weeks into the lockdown, foreign embassies in Kathmandu are still trying to fly home the last of their remaining nationals from Nepal, but there are many expatriates who refuse to be repatriated.Since March 24, there have been more than 25 chartered flights flying tourists and expats back to Europe, the United States, Australia, New Zealand, the Netherlands, Malaysia, Bangladesh and Brazil. But many foreigners have chosen to stay back in Nepal and wait out the COVID-19 pandemic.  “I’ve made my life here for many years and the situation in Canada doesn’t seem better,” says Zachary Barton from Canada who has been propagating permaculture in Nepal since 2003.On the phone from Fikkal Bazar in Ilam he told us: “In the past 20 years we’ve been through the Maoist war, a revolution, earthquake and blockade. Nepalis are extremely resilient. They’re not making a run for things, not panic buying toilet paper. I feel better being here actually — people deal with things without freaking out.” <figure><img width="2048" height="1365" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121112/636b8bb19c7e80680e06b2b7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>German embassy collecting its nationals for a repatriation flight last month. Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>On 11 April, 141 Canadians were flown out from Kathmandu on Qatar Airways, but for some the $3,000 price tag for a one-way economy ticket to Toronto was not worth it, considering uncertain times even back home. The New Zealand consulate also repatriated 27 nationals on 1 April, but twice as many Kiwis have decided to stay on in Kathmandu, Pokhara and other parts of Nepal.   “Canada took too long to repatriate its people and tickets were too expensive,” says 38-year-old Daniel Valdizan, an English-language professor in China who came to Nepal after universities there shut down in early January. He adds: “Most of us who chose to stay back agree that people here have been nothing but friendly and understanding to tourists, and I don’t feel unsafe here.”Indeed, guest houses in Thamel, Pokhara, Bandipur and other tourist spots have offered subsidised room rates and even free food for stranded tourists. Many have posted videos on YouTube full of praise for Nepali hospitality. The Department of Immigration has also said foreigners on tourist visas will not be fined for overstaying when they leave. <figure><img width="2000" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121112/636b8bb49c7e80680e06b2b8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Some French and Spanish trekkers who were in the mountains when the lockdown was announced have decided to stay on in Pisang in Manang. A dozen or so European, American and other nationals are said to be chilling out by the lakeside in Pokhara and relaxing in the rustic charm of Bandipur. A survey of various Kathmandu-based embassies this week showed that about one-third of staff are still in Nepal, but most with families have gone home. Foreigners working for bilateral agencies have kept only essential staff in Nepal. “I was in India when all of this started happening and got back here by the skin of my teeth on the last day. I was so happy to be back,” says Gloria Jones from Canada who is an adviser at a monastery here. “I have friends and family in Canada and no one’s trying to convince me to go back. I think they’re a little jealous of how happy I am here.”Douwe Kiran Soeting has been in Nepal for only three years but considers the Himalayan nation more of a home than his native Netherlands, and has decided to stay back helping at the Khagendra New Life Home where he supports 75 people with disabilities.“While here, at least I can keep people informed, help them stay positive and make sure they have enough funding for food,” says the 41-year-old. Cesar Morales was invited to train Nepali tennis players preparing for the forthcoming regional championships and the Olympics. He was supposed to travel to Spain and Italy before flying home to Chicago. “Nepal is still one of the safest countries to be in right now and people here have been wonderful. Flying with so many people and with multiple layovers back home to my parents who are 65 is a risk I cannot take,” Morales said from his flat in Satdobato. <figure><img width="600" height="800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121112/636b8bb79c7e80680e06b2b9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Briton Lesley D Junlakan is waiting it out in Nepal until she can return to Bangkok. Freelance writer and photographer who previously used to teach at Thammasat University in Thailand spends five months a year in Nepal volunteering at Kag Chode Monastery in Kagbeni and Pokhara.“I’m trying to make my time here worthwhile, documenting the lockdown and how it has affected people here, which I hope will be useful for the future,” says Junlakan who is now living in a guesthouse near Thamel. Graphic designer Tom Cisar from Austria has been volunteering in Tsum Valley since 2014. He is now in Pokhara with few other foreign nationals who have also chosen to stay back.  “There is xenophobia in many parts of the world during this crisis, but Nepal hasn’t had such a problem yet. This disease is no one’s fault, and all of us of different race and colours have to fight it together.”

Sonia Awale

Many foreigners stay put in Nepal

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131148/636a50269c7e80680e04fd44jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="1012"/>This monsoon, precipitation has not been particularly heavy over Nepal. In fact, total rainfall so far has been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/not-so-soon-monsoon/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">below the seasonal average</a> in most places. Yet, floods have ravaged the Central Tarai, landslides and rockfalls have blocked most major highways, bridges have been wrecked, nearly 100 people have been killed, and hundreds of thousands of people forced to live in higher ground.Floods may be natural, but the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/flood-of-recrimination/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">destruction they cause is manmade</a>. Inundation is mostly the result of flood control levees themselves trapping water, embankments blocking drainage paths, and built-up floodplains constricting the flow of rivers. The good news is that Nepal’s decision-makers seem to have belatedly understood this cause-effect. The bad news is: they are doing absolutely nothing about it.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-fatalistic-ke-garne-culture/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s fatalistic ‘ke garne’ culture</a>, Anil ChitrakarIn fact, instead of arresting the building spree, all three levels of government allow riverbeds to be gouged out for sand and boulders, increasing the velocity of the water. Elected local leaders we thought would be more accountable turned out to be middlemen hurriedly awarding contracts to themselves a few days before the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-fatalistic-ke-garne-culture/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the end of the fiscal year</a> so their excavators could claw away fragile <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/bulldozing-democracy-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">slopes to build ruinous roads no one needs</a>. Most of these have been already washed away in the past two weeks, causing damage to terrace farms and endangering settlements.If all this was not bad enough, megalomaniacs in federal, provincial and local governments are wasting hard-earned tax payer’s money erecting utterly useless view towers on any mountain top they can find. Their slogan ‘One Hill Station, One View Tower’ would be hilarious if it was not such a tragic waste of money.Limchubung Municipality in Udaypur district, with a population of just 12,000, is building a view tower costing Rs10 million for no other reason than to spend the cash. Province 2 has allotted Rs10 million to build a view tower in Sarlahi, where thousands of people are still living on roof terraces because of submergence. And the Far-Western Province is building a tower in Kailali district because everyone else is doing it.But Province 3 is way ahead of the others, earmarking Rs180 million to build towers on 12 mountain tops. Not to be outdone, Province 1 has plans to erect view towers costing Rs80 million along mountain tops in Ilam. The example has been set by Kathmandu itself, which five years ago decided to turn the old bus park in Tundikhel into a 27-floor ‘view tower-cum-business complex’. The bus terminal was relocated, but construction of the Rs5 billion tower never got off the ground. The entire project appears to have been kickback driven, and an elaborate ruse by tycoons in collusion with corrupt officials to usurp the prime real estate.Nepal’s mountains are already the highest in the world. The view from their summits is naturally stunning. Adding another 20m to the view does not make any sense. Instead, why not build proper facilities, public toilets, comfortable guest houses, and a waste-disposal system on these mountain tops?Biratnagar Municipality got Province 2 Federal Minister Lalbabu Pandit to lay the foundation stone for a 110m commercial tower in ward 3, but after much criticism the height of the edifice was reduced to 45m.None other than Prime Minister Oli himself launched a pet project to build a view tower in his native district of Jhapa for Rs2.5 billion. Oli has also commanded that a 150m high statue of the Buddha be put up in Damak. The local government in Morang is installing the world’s biggest statue of a cow. Why such erections are even necessary when the roads leading to them are decrepit, bridges have been washed away and cities wallow in squalour, no one can explain.There is more: a 20m statue of ‘Mother Nepal’ is being built in Mahendranagar. Tanahu plans a 30m figure of the saint, Vyas. Province 5 is putting up huge statues of Kanakmuni and Kakasanda Buddhas in Kapilbastu. But for the most meaningless project so far, the grand prize goes to Mayor Nima Gyalzen Sherpa of Helambu, who is starting on a 60km ‘Great Wall’ inspired by one he saw in China. He thinks it will be a tourist attraction, and will bring more visitors to his district. Someone please tell him tourists do not come to Nepal to look at concrete towers, statues of mythical figures or stone walls.What we really need are more health posts, better equipped rural hospitals, affordable health care and quality schools that are accessible to the poor. It is much more necessary to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-klepto-republic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">control corruption</a> and improve accountability. Wish we had leaders with more common sense and integrity.<h2>10 years ago this week</h2><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/461" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali Times issue #461</a> of 24-30 July 2009 looked at geo-politics and why Nepal’s foreign policy needed to be deft and agile to deal with regional powers. Ten years later, not much has changed. In fact, China is seen as even more of a threat than a decade ago, and the US itself is headed into decline under President Trump. Excerpt from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16148#.XTlr9_IzbIV" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Editorial</a>:‘Prithvi Narayan Shah described Nepal as a yam between two boulders, Pushpa Kamal Dahal modified that during the war and described us as more like a dynamite stick between two stones. Either way, it’s inevitable that we’ll get squeezed as these titanic nations jostle for leadership as economic and political powerhouses of the future. Nepal’s foreign policy strategy should be to minimise the danger of getting pulverised, to take economic advantage of our location, and not to play these two giants against each other.Our message to the mandarins in Beijing and Delhi should be: look here, we don’t have oil, we are not all that strategic and we are ungovernable. Just leave us alone, Nepal is not worth fighting over. If the Americans and Europeans want to fight the Chinese over Tibet, they should do it in Beijing, not in Kathmandu.’<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/461"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131148/636a50299c7e80680e04fd45jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="1249"></a>

EDIFICE  COMPLEX

During the 2022 election, populist candidates campaigned with algorithms and were elected mayors. In 2026, they are campaigning with AI-generated memes and videos. Four years ago, the idea that the most potent weapon in the next election in Nepal would be artificially generated clips of politicians beating each other up would have been science fiction. Yet, here we are: at a fever pitch of AI-based political content. Some are generated by the IT cells of political parties, while most are just produced and posted by young tech-savvy supporters of the new candidates. Most of them ridicule older leaders, and the predominant target is former prime minister K P Oli who was forced to resign after the September protests. On 20 January the TikTok account ‘iamfunnyman88’ posted a slapstick video in which former Kathmandu Mayor Balendra Shah is seen accosting ex-prime minister K P Oli with a giant bell (pictured), swinging it in Kung Fu Hustle style in what looks like Patan Darbar Square. Oli is sent splattered on the ground. K P Oli has become a symbol of the legacy parties and their aged leaders, and everything that is wrong with them. Balendra Shah represents the new protest candidate. The two are contesting from Jhapa-5, and it is turning out to be a prime ministerial race for 5 March. In another video, the RSP vs UML clash played out as a high-stakes war from the Mahabharat. Oli is a young warrior with a chiselled jaw and wearing a heavy golden armour ready to lead his followers to battle (pictured). A stylised Nepal flag flutters above him to the accompaniment of filmy dialogue.&nbsp; The videos are everywhere on TikTok, YouTube and Facebook. Many of the posts are hitting over 200,000 likes and 5 million views. Such content seems to be engaging more voters than speeches and door-to-door campaigning at the hustings. The videos are fake, but the numbers, and the attention they command, are very real.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014010_ed52fe3248b54eb4f9f391ee718e874a86c1b98297dde203800ad7b114bdacda.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026013014010_ed52fe3248b54eb4f9f391ee718e874a86c1b98297dde203800ad7b114bdacda" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal election memes"> </figure>  At first, it looked like the RSP’s digital media presence was a joke aimed at getting easy-to-access publicity via the far-reaching arms of the algorithm. But it is looking like a carefully designed strategy promoting Balen Shah as the RSP’s star player in this election.&nbsp; In 2022, it was just for the mayor of Kathmandu. This time, Balen Shah is already being promoted in these videos as a winner who has defeated the legacy politicians.&nbsp; In previous elections in Nepal, political parties used to spend lavishly on the ‘masu bhat’ strategy — feeding heavy plates of mutton curry and rice to constituents in return for votes. Ideology was swapped for immediate caloric gratification often accompanied by free-flowing alcohol.&nbsp; But surely, the new voter is too sophisticated for this. Politicians insist they have rebooted their operating systems to serve this enlightened demographic. We are talking, after all, about the generation that brought down a government over 36 hours in September.&nbsp; The assumption is that young voters today are too aware and far too proud to trade democratic agency for something as crude as a plate of steaming mutton curry and rice.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014014_983476ba334f895b64cd8ea34bd0ad79c1632c428feb119c84477d8e929eb057.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026013014014_983476ba334f895b64cd8ea34bd0ad79c1632c428feb119c84477d8e929eb057" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal elections meme"> </figure>  But the question is: are voters today any different? Aren’t these social media memes digital versions of the masu bhat that delivers a dopamine rush to voters? Watching the videos is entertainment that delivers a state of bliss, a protest against what is old but no enlightenment about how to get to the new. &nbsp; The I-cannot-go-a-single-minute-without-checking-my-phone demographic has leaned firmly towards politicians whose main focus is to be a social media star first, and an accountable politician second. More than 70% of Nepalis have smartphones now and most are hooked on data plans. The public has acquired a taste for a different kind of masu bhat - the digital kind. Instead of being made to slurp up the free spicy, fatty goat curry with deep guttural satisfaction, voters are being made to swallow easy-to-digest online clips to make serious voting decisions.&nbsp; After all, it is more fun than paying attention to a candidate’s policy proposals and actually thinking critically about the candidates.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014014_eb3a9e0c50f4a47706a6695e78ae41556c3d9754c15d564d42fb0de3f4199999.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026013014014_eb3a9e0c50f4a47706a6695e78ae41556c3d9754c15d564d42fb0de3f4199999" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal elections meme"> </figure>  TURNING POINT An important moment for the evolution of this digital masu bhat is the 2020 pandemic. It was just six years ago that the entire population was cut off from physical interaction. The phone screen became the sole mediator of social existence.&nbsp; Technology changes what we see as important, and this prolonged immersion fundamentally alters our perception of reality, training us to accept the flattened, binary logic of the algorithm as a substitute for the complex, multisensory texture of political reality. What is on the phone has started to dictate the questions we ask and the answers we accept. If it is not on the phone, it is starting to look irrelevant. The memes manufacture consent. Gerontocratic politicians habituated to legacy media have not fathomed the implications of this new virtual world. Everyone has been swayed by a good story since the beginning of time. Now, the phone has allowed millions of Nepalis to tell, retell, consume, and remix stories that would traditionally have huge barriers to entry. Consider the vegetable vendor killing time between customers, Gen-Z youth with no memory of the Maoist conflict, or the grandad who cannot distinguish an AI video from real footage.&nbsp; When they finally step into the voting booth, what is guiding their hand? Is it a careful calculus of policy proposals, demonstrated competence, and leadership integrity? Or is it the cumulative impact of those AI-generated dopamine hits they have been fed on a loop? This digital fog of war cuts both ways. In a twist of supreme irony, actual footage of candidates behaving badly is now routinely dismissed as ‘AI-generated’ by their PR teams. This was a convenient get-out-of-jail-free card that Balen’s camp used when a video of him shoving cadres went viral.&nbsp; Meanwhile, completely fabricated tear-jerkers of old leaders like Prachanda weeping are consumed by the public as gospel truth. We have arrived at a point where the inconvenient real is dismissed as a glitch, and the emotional fake is embraced as history.&nbsp; In Society of the Spectacle, Guy Debord argued that images eventually replace real life. Today’s voters in Nepal and elsewhere are not even consuming the actual meat-and-bones of mutton curry; they are swallowing the 15 second digital imitations of it.&nbsp; Welcome to the age of digital मासु भात.

Nepal’s AI-generated election

In December we headlined an analysis in this paper that the election was going to be a fight between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/old-vs-new-in-2026-eyyt3itl">Old and New</a>. With just a month to go for polls, it is now looking more like New vs New.
The symbolic Balendra Shah vs K P Oli struggle has now been replaced by a face-off between Shah and Gagan Thapa, the new leader of the Nepali Congress (NC).
The Tarai with its vast vote bank has become the battleground for this fight with Shah contesting against Oli in Jhapa and Thapa standing in Sarlahi. And social media is the arena for this epic clash of personality cults.
Which means that instead of finding solutions to problems like health, education, jobs, inflation and social welfare, it is all about optics and stunts. AI-generated and algorithm-driven memes are influencing people’s choices.
“This is not democracy but a very morphed form of political consumerism where political men are selling their brand, and people are lapping that up,” says political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal.&nbsp;
“Democracy is a way of life, it is not one size fits all, it doesn’t bully opposing voices, it is civilised, personable, tolerant.”
To be sure, Shah and Lamichhane claim to represent GenZ aspirations for cleaner and more efficient government, much like they did in 2022. But elections are expensive, and that is the root of corruption. Shah driving around Nepal in a flashy Defender SUV loaned by a noodle tycoon is proof to some that despite all the rhetoric of ‘new’ it is the same old crony-driven politics.
Author Mohan Mainali says party cadre used to mobilise voluntarily during campaigns, but Nepal’s elections have long stopped being about issues and ideology,
“But political parties lost their morality, and when their actions opposed their avowed principles, the spirit of elections was lost too,” Mainali says. “Cadre and crowds have to be rented, making elections more expensive, and it looks much worse this time around.”
Parties both old and new have moved so far away from what they promise in their manifestos, that it makes little sense to have them. All this means that this election is not so much about what the new candidates can do, but a protest vote against the tried, tested and failed legacy parties.
And that decision is made on the basis of ‘who’ rather than ‘what’. Who wins in Jhapa 5, for example, will determine the future course of Nepal. The winner there will eliminate one prime ministerial candidate, and then set up the possibility of a contest with Gagan Thapa.&nbsp;
“The real question is, can the RSP and NC, which have already declared their prime ministerial candidates muster majorities in Parliament?” Mainali muses. “In all likelihood no. The proportional representation vote is very important so people are tempted to vote based on who will be the next prime minister. But that is not how our system is supposed to work.”&nbsp;
Madhes Province has over 3.6 million voters, and more than half of Nepal’s population is in the Tarai. That can make or break the election for candidates. In the past parties have canvassed in the polls only to ignore the region once in power. And that goes for many Madhesi leaders themselves.
It was only after the 2015 federal republican Constitution that Madhes saw some representation, but it has been mostly sidelined in the GenZ protests.
In his analysis for the Annapurna Post this week, Birganj-based political commentator Chandrakishore writes that the Madhes should not just be a vote bank, but a political conscience for the nation.
‘Federalism has not favoured the Madhes, but it is the duty of the state. The parties that made the Constitution should tell us why federalism was weakened. The RSP should answer why it ignored the provincial structure in the past. The Madhes only wanted identity, representation, rights, and good governance,’ he wrote.
Indeed, it is ironic that the RSP that has been ambiguous on federalism, is now actively campaigning in the capital of federalism with Balendra Shah now capitalising on his plains ancestry — something he has not emphasised in the past.&nbsp;
“On one hand you say you want to remove provinces because there are too many positions which have become extremely costly for the state but you are also assuring your aides that there are plenty of positions to be doled out in the current federal structure,” says Sucheta Pyakuryal.
She adds: “You could forgo the ideology which we have done in Nepali politics for a long time now, you don’t even have to be a diehard socialist or liberal to enter the political arena but when even the lowest benchmarks such as basic decency and honesty are not met, how can you represent the people? We want representatives who look like us, sound like us, think like us, not brand names and saviours.”&nbsp;

New vs New in Nepal

The dawn air in Muktikot is dewy as the sun sets over the horizon in the mountains of western Nepal. A sad farewell song drifts across the village from a mud plastered house.&nbsp; Rani BK sings a half melody, half lament: “I feel like my own hands are being cut off as you leave.” She is bidding farewell to her youngest brother, 37-year-old Ranne, his wife Akashe. They are going to Bangalore in India to find work. Neighbours gather quietly in the gathering light, some wiping their eyes, others joining in song. “Please, don’t cry,” Ranne says softly. “These tears will haunt us on the journey.” Migration is not new to Muktikot, but the tears are. For decades, nearly every household here has sent its men to India every winter to work. They return in spring to plant their crops.&nbsp; What is new is that women like Akashe BK are now also going, and for longer periods. The couple is leaving their two of their children behind, and will be away for at least five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130224_f8d2d5980da1f3c1e22944003969d64cffd10f280c523ab207f983ef42b4cb9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260203130224_f8d2d5980da1f3c1e22944003969d64cffd10f280c523ab207f983ef42b4cb9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Daughter and son left behind with Rani BK after departure.</figcaption> </figure>  Ranne has been a daily wage labourer since he was 17, moving across Nepal and different parts of northern India. This journey is different — it will be to southern India.&nbsp; He had borrowed Rs50,000 from a local lender to cover the travel cost, hoping to recoup it from his earnings as a security guard. Aakashe plans to work as a household helper.&nbsp; “We would not go if we have a choice,” Aakase says quietly, her eyes fixed on “We are forced to leave our children. We cannot afford to educate them, there is little to eat here, no water, no work, no electricity.” Their daughter Sitala, 12, and son Dipson, 10, put auspicious red tika on their parents’ foreheads. Aakase sobs as she asks relatives to look after their children and their house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130224_a6316df8ff8a7f95d963396f2a01a7549dca3dcc1ac0364763eecd9f29b7bed7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260203130224_a6316df8ff8a7f95d963396f2a01a7549dca3dcc1ac0364763eecd9f29b7bed7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Departure of Ranne BK.</figcaption> </figure>  “We may return by the time you finish school,” Ranne tells Sitala, who is in Grade 6. Sitala stands forlorn by herself, not saying anything. Across Muktikot, women who once stayed back to raise children and manage households now join their husbands in India to support families in these remote mountains of western Nepal.&nbsp; Unnati BK, 30, and her husband Barune BK decided to migrate to India after their home was damaged by landslides in 2021 and the family was nearly killed. The arid farms did not produce enough food as rains failed. “Nothing grows here,” says Unnati, who is also leaving for Bangalore with her husband, along with Ranne and Akashe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_50db0f2d1827584bc9aa6d19d7d79b385ea1211192ccfc1f1147b245c941912e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260203130228_50db0f2d1827584bc9aa6d19d7d79b385ea1211192ccfc1f1147b245c941912e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Unnati BK</figcaption> </figure>  After 54 families lost their homes in landslides four years ago, the district administration has set aside Rs500,000 for families including Unnati and Barune. But although nearly complete, they have received only Rs175,000 each. Unnati had realised and told her husband that if they stayed in the village, their sorrows would multiply. So they planned to leave, hoping that a little extra hardship in India would allow them to pay for the education of their three children, who are 11, eight, and six years old. “We chose Bangalore because relatives told us it is easy to find jobs there for both men and women,” Barune says. They plan to leave their children with Unnati’s parents for now, and later send them 250km away to Kailali to attend school.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_3ee37136e936fe7dba7d1320452c83a17f08805663a7cbb4b6efa986c79147ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260203130228_3ee37136e936fe7dba7d1320452c83a17f08805663a7cbb4b6efa986c79147ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Landslide four years ago caused 54 families to lose their homes.</figcaption> </figure>  More than 75 couples from 350 households in Muktikot have left for cities like Mumbai and Bangalore in the past three years alone, leaving behind their children either with their in-laws or in the Tarai cities where they go to school. Ajay Kumar BK, chair of the rural municipality of Muktikot says, “There is a clear intention to leave the village altogether.” &nbsp; Diksha BK, 25, has three sons aged six, three, and one. Her husband Dhirjan works in Surkhet. She and her husband have given up on Muktikot, saying they see no future there. DISASTER-PRONE Muktikot is populated mostly by Dalit families, and used to be named Dumkot after a derogatory term used by higher caste people for Dalits. During the Maoist conflict, many Dalit boys joined the guerrillas and the rebels renamed it Muktikot, meaning ‘freedom’.&nbsp; The village clings to a steep mountain flank wrinkled with rain-fed farm terraces. Many of the men who have left for India have never come back, and now even the women are leaving. The 2020 Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan of Bajura identifies Muktikot as a disaster-prone area, making its rain-fed agriculture vulnerable to droughts. The denuded slopes above are at risk of landslides.&nbsp; The 2021 International Migration in Nepal report counted 13,482 people migrating to India from Bajura alone that year. There are an estimated 3.5 million Nepalis living and working in Nepal — mostly from the western mountains.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_df4f333c7a5bc0b0a7fd75ae6c2e9f02444a097fc5b13c24dc61a276ea6ac3ff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260203130228_df4f333c7a5bc0b0a7fd75ae6c2e9f02444a097fc5b13c24dc61a276ea6ac3ff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Houses being built under resettlement plan.</figcaption> </figure>  National Environment and Equity Development Society (NEEDS) Nepal found that 70% of households in Sudhurpaschim Province have had at least one member migrating to India at some point in their lives. “Female migration used to be low, but there is now an observable trend of women migrating for work from Sudhurpaschim,” says Prakash Madai of NEEDS Nepal. However, anthropologist Jeevan R Sharma says female migration is not new, what is different is the scale and duration of women migrants. Increasing demand for part-time household help in India makes it a pull-factor for Nepali women from the rural west to enter the informal workforce. “Women used to go only when opportunities arose, working for half a year to maximum two years, and frequently going back and forth,” says Sharma. “The potential rise is likely due to the need for greater income driven by rising cash-based expenses for health, education, food, and purchase of consumer goods.” COST OF LEAVING “Previously people struggled for basic needs, and we did not have the money or the roads to travel to Kathmandu, which is why most people went to India for manual work,” says Kartik Kami, 60, of the rural municipality. “Migration trends have changed because both men and women can make money washing, cooking, and cleaning in cities. Soon, there will be no one to conduct weddings or funerals, only children will remain.” While women from other parts of Nepal began participating in foreign employment three decades ago, women from traditional Sudurpaschim families are only now venturing into the Indian labour market. “This surge is filling a labour vacuum in India created when its domestic migrants shifted their focus to Gulf countries,” explains historian Yadab Devkota. Yet, research paints a social cost. A 2020 study found that children of migrant parents suffer loneliness and neglect due to the absence of parental care and love. Children fall back in studies, and girl children are burdened with excessive workload managing the household and siblings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130232_e1e02cd082e7cbb77243103b2197fd1dfca75531bb9d6f518763afccb9ed452c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260203130232_e1e02cd082e7cbb77243103b2197fd1dfca75531bb9d6f518763afccb9ed452c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Sitala BK, daughter of Ranne and Aakashe.</figcaption> </figure>  The emotional toll is manifested in anxiety, stress, depression, and in some cases, suicide, especially for those whose mothers have migrated.&nbsp; “The significant shift towards couple migration is driven by families making difficult and high-cost decisions in the hopes of breaking the cycle of poverty,” says Arjun Kharel at the Centre for the Study of Labour and Mobility (CESLAM ). “Migration remains primarily a strategy for subsistence rather than development, it is a calculated family decision made in the absence of local opportunities.” Migration to India remains largely invisible to the Nepal government. The country’s foreign employment framework does not extend to migrants going to India. And because they travel through the open border, they are not regulated by formal systems.&nbsp; There is no accurate count of how many Nepalis are working in India, or of Indians in Nepal. According to the Indian Population and Housing Census, there are 600,000 Nepalis working in India, but this is a gross underestimation.&nbsp; A study by Aapti Institute describes Nepali migrants in India as ‘liminal’ neither fully protected as citizens nor recognised as foreigners there, exposing them to exploitation and risk.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130232_14a613729f6ebb1db0bec63032cc78abe3087341680b2f88bc0ab4456621b012.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260203130232_14a613729f6ebb1db0bec63032cc78abe3087341680b2f88bc0ab4456621b012" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Ranne and Aakashe's last night at home.</figcaption> </figure>  “Nepali migrants in India are not covered by compensation if they fall sick and or if die, unlike migrants to other overseas destinations who can receive compensation of up to Rs700,000,” notes labour migration expert Saru Joshi. The recent draft National Labour Migration Policy 2025 of the Ministry of Labour, Employment, and Social Security offers a flicker of hope for migrants to India with provisions for welfare, social security, and mental health support for families left behind. The draft also mandates better data collection of the movement of people.&nbsp; It is unlikely that these initiatives will make any difference to the people who remain in Muktikot. Many like Ranne and Akashe are likely to go to India for work. “If I had only two or three children, I would take my wife to India too,” says Jaya BK, 46. But he has seven children, including newborn twins, whom he has stayed behind to help his wife look after this time, rather than leaving for Uttarakhand in winter like he usually does.&nbsp; With the support of Internews' Earth Journalism Network.

Mass migration from Muktikot

The car’s trunk was crammed with boxes and suitcases, almost to the roof, and I was just waiting for the inevitable heart-wrenching screech or thud from underneath as I feathered on the accelerator, trying to cross through the infamous Daunne uphill section of the East-West Highway in an MPV.&nbsp; But to my surprise, the ground clearance of 170mm did not fail. Daunne, roughly 15km long, is the landslide prone ridge between Narayanghat and Butwal section, which is perennially affected by traffic jams, thanks to ongoing (and never ending) road expansion. Traffic jams here can be tens of kilometres long. On a November 2025 trip to Bhairawa it was dry enough to wade through the dreaded Daunne where the choice on the ‘road’ is either mud or dust (or both).&nbsp; The BYD M6 MPV EV borrowed for the journey claimed a range of 440km and 580L of space at the back in an almost 4.7m long form factor.&nbsp; On board were two family members and my five-year-old dog, Kulfi (pictured) who needed frequent stretch breaks for his paws. Stopping to charge the car was most certainly not on my to-do list. Within the first 20km from Koteswor, there were already multiple DC chargers along the roadside. They were fast chargers usually between 30 to 60kWs capacities, meaning a charge to 80% would take on average less than an hour. Nepal now boasts over 1,200 charging stations, each station is often equipped with multiple charging guns. This was a stark contrast to the harsh reality of charger anxiety I faced a couple of years in our family car, the Hyundai Kona. Back then, on the way back from Pokhara there was only a single charging gun at River Side Resort in Kurintar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013104014_d36a1ed529caa0b67424699407da8b42b51f4a4b63dd6dbeb662b0ab513b77a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026013104014_d36a1ed529caa0b67424699407da8b42b51f4a4b63dd6dbeb662b0ab513b77a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2652" height="984" loading="lazy" alt="Page 5 map"> </figure>  These were only fast AC chargers of speeds up to 6kWs, unlike today’s much faster DC chargers. This meant the car would take multiple hours to hit the 80% mark -- and the charger would sometimes (shockingly, and without explanation) be out of operation. No one to ask questions, and no one to answer either. While I never needed to charge my EV on the way to Pokhara from Kathmandu, my precautionary nature never allowed me to climb into the Valley via Naubise without a charge. One bad accident, some sort of natural disaster, and you knew the roads would be clogged with traffic and shut down for at least a couple of hours.&nbsp; Fast forward to the present. My mind was at ease. Even if one of the charging stations was crowded, there was conveniently another one 15 minutes away. But the BYD M6 did not require any of that anyway.&nbsp; Not only did it traverse the rough highway from Kathmandu to Mugling, and then onward over the Daunne pass with ease but because the car was heavy and low, it handled high speeds and corners like a champ.&nbsp; Foot down on the accelerator and it climbed to triple digit speeds without breaking a sweat. Put your foot relatively harder on the brakes and it would equally shed its momentum, all the while being economical. After multiple quick stretch stops for Kulfi, and a proper one hour lunch break, I had arrived at Bhairawa before nightfall, still with around 100km of range left in the car and most importantly, with all the luggage intact.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013104018_1cc05d858d14f0b83fcf586c7270be003f462d60cd19934218e271d59fef3496.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026013104018_1cc05d858d14f0b83fcf586c7270be003f462d60cd19934218e271d59fef3496" data-rendition-name="original" width="1384" height="808" loading="lazy" alt="Bye-bye range anxiety NT"> </figure>  ROUNDTRIP A week later, my return trip to Kathmandu saw an additional passenger and even more luggage – but once again, I arrived back in Kathmandu with ease: both the M6 and Nepal’s charger infrastructure had exceeded my expectations and needs.&nbsp; This 600km drive to and from Bhairawa from the mountains around Kathmandu to the Tarai plains, with not-so-smooth hilly terrain in between, highlighted not only how far electric vehicles have evolved but also showed how far the charging infrastructure (once a major irritant during the Covid years) had come.&nbsp; EVs in Nepal are no longer niche products; they are available across budgets and segments, ranging in form factor from micro city commuters and family hatchbacks to compact SUVs, pickups, and even full-size MPVs.&nbsp; One noticeable improvement on the highways is that the charging infrastructure has grown from a scattered and company-installed. NEA units along major routes have now converted into full-fledged, round-the-clock networks that allow flexibility and convenience to those of us who like to enjoy our times on the road.&nbsp; What once felt like a gamble, now feels like momentum — and the road ahead for electric mobility in Nepal looks smoother. &nbsp;&nbsp; Arnav Upadhyay reviews automobiles and promotes road safety under the handle Casually Annoyed Driver on Youtube, Tiktok and IG and this monthly column Drive Line in Nepali Times.

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