<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1e909c7e80680e0af418jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="540" height="504"/><figcaption>Former Prime Minister Kirti Nidhi Bista in a program with host Suman Kharel. Photo: SUMAN SANGA</figcaption></figure>I was watching a talk show. The host was grilling the celebrated Panchyat-era figure former Prime Minister Kirti Nidhi Bista about his political experiences. But my attention was solely fixed on the tiger pelt hanging on the wall behind.The episode was shot at Bista’s living room and for a researcher who had recently visited several prisons across the country to interview people jailed in wildlife crimes, it was a bitter reminder of the impartiality in the way the Nepali state treats citizens.Under Nepal’s laws, wildlife crime also entails transport and collection of contraband, not just peaching. But regulatory authorities have been blatantly ignoring this. Pelts of tigers and leopards have become showpieces for the rich and powerful to flaunt, and are openly exhibited in public spaces.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/what-drives-wildlife-poaching/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">What drives wildlife poaching?</a>, Sonia AwaleFollowing that tv interview in August 2016, we took to social media urging an investigation into the tiger pelt and how it came to be in an ex-prime minister’s possession. We also filed a complaint through Hello Sarkar, but the agency that is always quick to reply on every matter stayed mum on this.Sometime later, during a visit to the head office of Citizens Bank in Kamaladi, I saw a stuffed tiger head hanging on the wall. Thereafter I found more places in Kathmandu where wildlife parts are openly displayed, flouting the law.A leading weekly paper in 2012 named a select few families in Kathmandu that had tiger, bear, wild ass, leopard and deer parts in ancestral property settlements.It is clear for everyone to see that there are rampant wildlife parts in private uses in Nepal. But why does the law apply only to the poor while those in the positions of power openly display them? Why are some <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/wildlife-smuggler-caught-in-kathmandu-after-15-years/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wildlife crimes</a> punished while others are ignored?<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1e929c7e80680e0af419jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="924"><figcaption>A stuffed tiger head in the head office of Kamaladi, Kathmandu. Photo: KUMAR POUDEL</figcaption></figure>I was born in Barabise of Sindhupalchok district bordering Tibet. From a young age, I knew about crossborder smuggling of wildlife parts from Nepal to China. Many locals in the region and even some of my classmates made money from smugglers transporting red sandalwood across the border up north.When I came to Kathmandu in 2006 for higher studies, I got to learn more about this illegal trade. I also found out that Nepal has some of the strictest penalties for the crime in the world, and yet is among the countries with the highest wildlife crime rates.This means our legal system does not discourage criminals, there is rampant impunity and existing laws are applied unfairly and without transparence. This is a clear lack of legal bias: while small-time criminals are prosecuted, ringleaders even when arrested <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lax-laws-make-nepal-haven-for-tiger-poachers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">find loopholes in a corrupt judicial system</a>.Regulatory bodies do not even have a record of how many wildlife crime prisoners are in Nepal and which prisons they are held in. I had to call every prison across the country to collect this data. In 2016, there were 384 inmates, most of them from indigenous communities.Some of the prisoners were not even aware of why they were arrested in the first place. Others told me they were taken into custody when they had gone to collect fodder in the forest. I found inmates who ended up in jail because they were trying to make an extra Rs500. But there were also those who were part of international wildlife trafficking syndicates.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1e959c7e80680e0af41ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="686"><figcaption>Animal pelts seized from a local's house in Tribeni of Bajura district in July 2020. Photo: NEPAL POLICE BAJURA</figcaption></figure>From the centre to local governments, there are many wildlife crime and poaching control groups at work in Nepal. Some 8,000 Nepal Army soldiers are deployed to guard national parks across the country and the Nepal Police even has a separate <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-wildlife-watchdogs-honoured/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">branch for wildlife crime</a>.And yet Nepal is a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/better-nepal-china-connectivity-helps-wildlife-smugglers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flourishing hub for wildlife trade</a>. Contraband from Africa and Asia are transported to China and beyond across the Himalaya. The country’s location is no help – it is situated between India, which is one of the most biodiverse countries in the world with a 1,300km open border, and China that is the world’s largest wildlife market.According to the National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act 1972, no one is allowed to use, sell or distribute wildlife without permission in Nepal. But even before it was issued, the law stipulated that those in the possession of wildlife parts must get a permit within 35 days by disclosing their source.But no such permit has ever been issued according to the Department of Wildlife Conservation and the Department of Forest and Soil Conservation. I reported the illegal wildlife parts in use in Kathmandu with evidence and lobbied for them to be brought under the purview of the law. But I was warned to keep quiet, with authorities even threatening to end my career. I chased them for two years but with no other progress and alternative, I went to court.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rare-anti-cancer-tree-on-verge-of-extinction/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Being a wildlife specialist</a>, legal matters are not my forte. I also realised just learning about ecology is not enough to save wildlife in Nepal. So, I joined Nepal Law Campus where I met advocate Padma Bahadur Shrestha, who specialises in environmental law.He helped me prepare the writ and in May 2018 we went to the Supreme Court with our petition. The staff at the registration read the writ and laughed. The head of the branch said it was an important case but refused to register it. It got registered the second day because there was no basis not to, and the date for the hearing was fixed for the very next day.The judge on the bench was Cholendra SJB Rana. I could hear advocates say, “Most of the wildlife parts are in the Rana family. How do you expect the judge to give a verdict?”After reading the writ, judge Rana smiled and said, "Immediate order may be difficult to implement, so I have given a show cause order to the government with priority."For the last three years, I am following up on the Supreme Court. The authories who did not respond to my report have sent written answers to the court. From the office of the prime minister to the forest department, they have all come up with varying excuses.The Ministry of Forests and Environemnt requested the writ petition to be dismissed claiming that the wildlife parts currently in the display, private or otherwise may have received permits. But responsible departments say they have never issued any permits. This means all the wildlife parts that are in private possession is illegal.The Supreme Court had fixed 19 December this week for the hearing of our petition. But it has now been postponed to 17 April 2022 due to a public holiday that coincided with the day.If the order is issued as per our demand, the government will be obliged to keep a record of the historic wildlife parts in private use across the country, then give a permit if there is a legal basis or confiscate and take action if found illegal.This will also shine a light on culprits and bring them under the purview of law while helping to curb the crime that is taking place under the guise of ancestral trophy hunting. Ignoring this aspect of wildlife crime will only boost the morale of criminals and add to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">existing challenges of conservation</a>.Wildlife trafficking is not a local but an international problem, and as such needs cross-border collaboration between countries. Nepal’s legal capacity is also important for the conservation of wildlife in South Asia and the world.Translated from <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/127298?" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Nepali original</a> in the Himal monthly.Kumar Paudel is an MPhil graduate from the University of Cambridge and is co-founder of Greenhood Nepal based in Kathmandu.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1e989c7e80680e0af41bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="109" height="109">

original

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

Nepal's unequal wildlife laws

<h2>Saving the last of Nepal's pangolins</h2>Law enforcement and education, the only way to stop trafficking of endangered animalsSonia Awale<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e599c7e80680e04fcaejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>FAR FROM HOME: Pangolin that escaped from a community forest in Sankhuwasaba last month rolls into its scales for safety before being released back into the wild. SUJAN BAJRACHARYA/RSS</figcaption></figure>Seizure of pangolin scales and meat are on the rise across Asia, indicating increasing demand for the body parts of this endangered mammal found in Nepal, other parts of Asia and Africa.Last year, two Chinese nationals flying transiting Kathmandu on their way from Nigeria to China were seized at the airport with 162kg of  scales from at least 15 dead pangolins.Sudip Giri of the Central Investigation Bureau (CIB) says the seizures are just the tip of the iceberg, with much of the trafficking going undetected.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=29443&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Is wildlife conservation a victim of its own success in Nepal?</a>, Mukesh Pokhreal<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/ever-gone-wildlife-trekking-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ever gone wildlife trekking in Nepal?</a>, Lisa Choegyal“Pangolin smuggling is increasing at an alarming rate, but most of the culprits we have arrested are those out to make a quick buck, travelling on bikes trying to find buyers in the city, they are not the criminal masterminds and wholesalers,” Giri explains.Although Nepal is on the traditional route for wildlife trafficking from India to China, bulk seizures have occurred at trans-shipment points like Singapore and Hong Kong. In April, more than 14 tons of pangolin scales bound for Vietnam was seized – the biggest haul of its kind. Some 36,000 pangolins would have had to be killed for the consignment worth $38.7 million.The seizure came just five days after another container with 12.9 tons of pangolin scales was discovered in a Singapore port. Two separate shipments of five and four tons of pangolins from Nigeria have been seized in Hanoi in the last two months.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/protecting-pangolins-from-being-eaten-to-extinction/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Protecting pangolins from being eaten to extinction</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/protecting-the-pangolin,3597" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Protecting lesser known species</a>, Shreejana Shrestha<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e5c9c7e80680e04fcafjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1037" height="693">Nepal is home to two species of pangolins: the Chinese and Indian varieties. The Chinese pangolin is on the IUCN’s critically endangered list and the Indian one is on the endangered list. Both species are in Nepal’s protected list and the killing, poaching, transporting, selling or buying of the scaly anteater is punishable with Rs1 million fine and/or up to 15 years in jail.However, Nepal, north-east India and the Karakoram Highway in Pakistan are the three land routes known for smuggling South Asian pangolins to feed the Chinese market where the scales can fetch up to $3,000 per kg and live anteaters at $8,000.Border points into China in Darchula, Humla, Bajhang, Sankhuwasabha, Sindupalchok, Gorkha, Dhading, Rasuwa, Kavre, Bajura, Surkhet and Taplejung are used for smuggling not just pangolin, but tiger parts, rhino horns, rosewood and other contraband items as well.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Between existence and extinction in Nepal</a>, Sonia AwaleOfficials admit that the lack of proper equipment to identify wildlife contraband, corruption and lax monitoring at remote checkpoints means that many consignments slip across the border undetected.While the smuggling nexus has been more or less controlled with greater <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">conservation efforts</a> and stricter regulations, conservationists fear that the Himalayan route is now being revived for pangolins, the world’s most smuggled mammal.“With increasing connectivity, and our border with a high-demand country for pangolins like China, we have to be vigilant,” says Tulshi Laxmi Suwal of Nepal’s Small Mammal Conservation and Research Centre, who is pursuing her PhD on pangolins at the National Pingtung University in Taiwan.The reopening of the Tatopani-Kodari border point after the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">2015 earthquake</a>, the increasing use of the Rasuwa-Kerung road and the prospect of a new trans-Himalaya railway link could turn Nepal into even more of a smugglers’ den.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=29461&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Which way will the Tibet-Nepal railway go?</a>, Ramesh Bhushal“Nepal is already a signatory of China’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/yam-between-3-boulders/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Belt and Road Initiative</a> which could increase market access and trafficking of wildlife,” says Kumar Paudel of Greenhood Nepal, who adds that pangolins from Africa, India and Bangladesh are already being intercepted in Nepal on their way to China.More than 100,000 wild pangolins are poached from Africa, Southeast Asia and South Asia every year. Most are destined for China where scales of the mammals are used in traditional medicine, and its meat considered a delicacy.Taiwan is a rare success story that offers hope. The island used to have high demand for pangolins just like the mainland, but an awareness campaign to reduce domestic demand and strict control on smuggling, allowed Taiwan’s own pangolin population to rebound. If Taiwan could do it, conservationists say, China can too.“Poaching and illegal trade of pangolins is not a big issue anymore in Taiwan, but we cannot be complacent. We need to continue sharing knowledge and I have found social media to be quite powerful,” says Nick Ching-Min Sun of National Pingtung University.His colleague, Tulshi Laxmi Suwal from Nepal adds: “We can all learn from Taiwan, how governments can be more serious and work with local communities and conservationists to spread awareness to reduce demand and give local people alternative incomes to reduce supply.”<h2>Rescuing barn owls from superstition</h2>Kamal MadenOnce widespread in Kathmandu Valley and across Nepal, barn owls are now endangered due to a decline in prey populations and threats from humans.The first-ever study of barn owls in Kathmandu Valley, carried out by Sabita Gurung for the Small Mammal Conservation and Research Foundation (SMCRF) and Japan’s Nagao Natural Environment Foundation, has found that a decrease in the owl’s rodent prey is affecting its population.Gurung laid traps for mice and grey house shrews, the main prey of the owl recognisable by its heart-shaped face, and found that both had declined in numbers due to rapid population growth in Kathmandu and the loss of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/parks-not-parking-lots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">open spaces</a>. This is worrying because owls are an important part of the ecosystem and control the population of grey shrews, which Gurung found make up 80% of the birds’ diet.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16088#.XR3XN-szaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Feather fiends</a>, Dewan Rai<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/decline-in-birds-of-migration-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu's silent spring</a>, Sonia Awale<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e5e9c7e80680e04fcb0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="888"><figcaption>Photos: SANJAY THA SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>The misconception that the meat of barn owls and Indian eagles can cure paralysis and other diseases has also led to an increase in the poaching of the owls.Gurung is carrying out further research to identify the barn owl’s food habits, prey availability and challenges to its conservation in the Kathmandu suburbs of Pulchok, Chyamasin, Srijananagar, Kirtipur, Bajrabarahi and Balaju.The barn owl is one of 23 species of owls in Nepal and was first recorded by British resident and naturalist Brian Houghton Hodgson in 1829. Today, it is categorised as a vulnerable species under the national red list of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4568#.XR3X0uszaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal birds</a>; anyone found hunting, selling or harming a barn owl is liable to be fined up to Rs30,000 or jailed for 3-9 months.Considered to be the most beautiful of owl species, the barn owl gets its name from its preference to nest in barns instead of outdoors, signifying its habitat proximity to human settlements.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/protecting-the-last-home-of-the-spiny-babbler/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Protecting the last home of the Spiny Babbler</a>, Carol Inskipp and Rupendra KarmacharyaWith an unmarked face and beige lower body, the barn owl is known as the ‘white owl’ in Nepal. Its wide facial disc is actually an antenna that magnifies sound in the same way human ears do. The bird’s acute sense of hearing allows it to be a specialised nocturnal hunter of small mammals.Barn owls are ultra-light and have soft feathers that muffle its passage through the air, allowing it to fly silently. But because its wings are not waterproof, the bird does not fly when it is raining. Contrary to popular belief, barn owls can see in the daytime but have found a prey niche at night.Barn owls in Kathmandu Valley were found to feed mainly on shrews, mice, small birds and insects. Since they cannot digest the skull, bones and fur of rodents, the owls spits them out as pellets, which scientists use to study their feeding habits.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e619c7e80680e04fcb1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="959">Of the 108 pellets Gurung studied recently, 81 belonged to grey house shrews, 13 to mice, 3 to birds and 1 to insects, with some unidentified bones.The grey house shrew in turn feeds on small insects and worms and has a strong body odour that discourages most predators, except owls and some species of snakes. As shrews live close to human settlements, the owl does too.However, the use of pesticides and rat poison has reduced the population of rodent and insects, affecting owl colonies in Kathmandu.<h2>Coy cat captured (on film)</h2>Camera trap takes first photos of rare marbled cat in eastern NepalWildlife researchers studying the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/city-for-transshipment-of-wildlife,3424" target="_blank" rel="noopener">red panda</a> have accidentally discovered one of the world’s most mysterious cats for the first time in eastern Nepal.The rare marbled cat (Pardofelis marmoratwa) is slightly bigger than a domestic cat and has large, dark-fringed markings and a long bushy tail. It was captured by a forest camera trap at 2,750m in Panchthar district. This is the first photographic evidence of the feline in Nepal, according to a new study published in the journal Nature Conservation.The camera trap study was carried out by researchers from Lincoln University in New Zealand and the Red Panda Network (RPN) in community forests in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/the-kingdom-of-cardamom" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kangchenjunga region</a> bordering India and Nepal between December 2017 and June 2018. Cameras captured three images of the wild cat, along with 5,176 other photos of 17 medium and large-sized mammal species.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/clouded-future-for-the-clouded-leopard/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Clouded future for the Clouded Leopard</a>, Yadav Ghimirey<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Studying-Cat-Scat,3559" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Studying cat scat</a>, Sonam Tashi Lama<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e649c7e80680e04fcb2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="868"><figcaption>ON CANDID CAMERA: Rare selfie of a marbled cat in eastern Nepal, and the location in a community forest in Ilam where the camera trap was placed.</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e679c7e80680e04fcb3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="799">“This is exciting news for wildlife biologists and conservationists in Nepal,” said Sonam Tashi Lama, the lead author of the study and the coordinator of RPN’s citizen scientists and wildlife researchers monitoring eastern Nepal’s community forests for red pandas, but had never seen the marbled cat until they examined the camera trap photos.Cameras are revolutionising how researchers detect and count cryptic species, said Adrian Paterson, associate professor in Zoology at Lincoln University in Christchurch, a co-author of the research paper. “Detecting the marbled cat in eastern Nepal is a great example of the benefits of using cameras and will the discovery will add significantly to conservation in Nepal,” he said.The marbled cat is categorised as ‘Near Threatened’ in the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, listed in CITES Appendix I and considered a ‘data deficient’ species in Nepal.  The cat lives in forests throughout South and Southeast Asia, from the Himalayan foothills of India and Bhutan to China and southwards through Malaysia and Indonesia.The forest in eastern Nepal where the marbled cat was detected has been naturally restored as a secondary forest after a forest fire destroyed the area nearly 35 years ago. Its presence is seen as a big conservation achievement, and researchers are recommending that year-round camera trap surveys be held in the mid-hills of eastern Nepal. Its exact location is not divulged to protect the wildlife in that region from poachers.The study also calls for an urgent assessment of immediate threats, preparing sound conservation plans for the marbled cat and engaging local herders in conservation programs.<h2>Is the spotted linsang really rare, or expert at rarely getting caught?</h2>Yadav GhimireyThe small and sleek spotted linsang was recently photographed for the first time in more than 175 years in Nepal. This was the first authentic evidence of this tree-dwelling mammal occurring in the country.Although there were some reports of its presence in Chitwan National Park in the 1980s, credible  evidence was scarce. The species was documented for the first time by British resident and naturalist Brian Hodgson in 1847, who illustrated the carnivore using a live model.The animal is an enigma, showing up very rarely even in camera traps. During our survey in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Annapurna Conservation Area</a> in 2017, only two pictures of the species were captured in 4,500 trap days. A trap day equals one camera trap kept in the open for 24 hours.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e6a9c7e80680e04fcb4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1100" height="720">There was no evidence of this species during one-and-half years of searching in Makalu-Barun National Park, and many other wildlife research efforts in the mid-hills prior to our 2017 work also failed to document the spotted linsang.The animal’s rarity is not the only reason for the few sightings. Will Duckworth at the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) believes that it is primarily an ambush hunter that waits for its prey from a hidden location and rarely travels long distances in search of food, making it less likely to be seen.Many also believe this little carnivore occupies a very small area and, as an arboreal mammal, spends much of its time in the branches and canopy of trees making it difficult for sighting.The species is on the IUCN Red List, the global authority on the status of wildlife. On Nepal’s National Red List, the spotted linsang is classified as a data deficient species, which means there is very little evidence to classify its status. This is unfortunate because only by knowing a species’ status can relevant conservation initiatives be carried out.As one of the country’s most elusive animals, there is no doubt that having more knowledge about the spotted linsang would help develop a bond between the public and the animal, which would in turn help make conservation initiatives easier.Yadav Ghimirey is a conservation biologist at Friends of Nature. He has been working with wild cat species in Nepal since 2008. mustela.altaica@yahoo.com

674x448

610x380

1250x600

1084x550

Lesser known endangered species

Shantanu Dhakal wakes up to a cold misty dawn, dons his college uniform and fastens his tie, tightening it carefully so as not to dislodge the tracheostomy tube protruding from his throat.
Gingerly, he brushes his teeth, mindful not to hurt the wound on his left cheek, where a bullet tore through during the GenZ protests on 8 September in the highway town of Itahari in eastern Nepal.&nbsp;
Dhakal, 18, came home from college that day three months ago and then took the bus to Itahari to join some friends who were protesting in front of the sub-metropolitan city office. It was mid-afternoon, and the crowd was chanting anti-corruption slogans and holding up placards.
Like most young Nepalis, Dhakal and his friends had been angered by videos on social media of the offspring of Nepal’s rich and powerful flaunting their lavish lifestyles.&nbsp;
"That was the trigger for me to join the protest, it opened my eyes to just how widespread nepotism and corruption was," Dhakal told Nepali Times.&nbsp;
The police arrested a few students, angering the crowd even more. They massed at the gate of a nearby police station to demand their friends be released. &nbsp;
Dhakal was standing across the street from the police station when the first shots rang out. The crowd scattered. As he ran for cover, there was a searing pain in his left jaw. Blood was streaming and it took some time for him to realise he had been shot.&nbsp;
“I was bleeding profusely and couldn’t speak. My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears,” Dhakal recalls. “I collected myself and continued to run, fearing that I would be shot a second time.”
Dhakal collapsed some distance away, and a fellow protestor took him to a nearby hospital, where doctors bandaged his jaw. He was referred to Birat Medical Teaching Hospital, where surgeons immediately performed an emergency operation. &nbsp;
The bullet had torn through his left jaw, shattering the bone, teeth, and soft tissue. Blood had rushed into his throat, obstructing the airway so doctors first performed a tracheostomy, installing a tube in his throat to help him keep breathing. A week later, the doctors reconstructed his jaw with metallic plates, grafting skin from his chest and transplanting it to the lower left side of his face.&nbsp;
Dhakal spent three weeks in hospital before being discharged. But the relief of being home was marred by disturbing thoughts. He says, “Just sitting there doing nothing began to take a toll on my mental health.” &nbsp;
Since he was always interested in content creation and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@docsbyshantanu">producing short documentaries</a>, he decided to document online his near-death experience and post-protest life.&nbsp;
Shantanu Dhakal’s Instagram and TikTok <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shantanu__dhakal/">posts are simple, short videos</a> every other day about his treatment process, dressing his wound and cleaning his tracheostomy tube, attending events with others injured during the protests, and scenes from everyday life in his family farm.&nbsp;
The comment section has Nepalis and people from around the world reaching out to ask how he is doing and keeping his spirits up. Dhakal now has a caring social media community, and he uses the platforms to keep in touch with other injured protestors across the country.&nbsp;
Life is returning to a new normal. This week, he returned to college to resume classes after more than two months and is making up for lost time. He has adjusted to speaking and eating with the tube, although the pain never quite goes away.&nbsp;
“I can eat mostly fine, but it is still difficult to speak,” he says. Soon, he will go to hospital for his fortnightly follow-up, and doctors will determine when his tracheostomy tube can be removed.
Like other young Nepalis, Dhakal is now even more politically engaged and actively reads the news of the interim government installed after the GenZ protests.&nbsp;
With the 5 March elections only three months away, young Nepalis like Dhakal hope that the elections will throw out the old and bring in the new. He is among the more than 800,000 new voters who have registered.&nbsp;
“The most important thing is that we have stable government,” he says. “As far as candidates go, an ideal one for me would be a person who prioritises health and education. But if the candidates in my constituency are not up to mark, I may not vote.”
Dhakal along with other injured protesters and relatives of those killed met &nbsp;Energy Minister Kulman Ghising, who has launched his own Ujyalo Nepal Party, and he is cautiously optimistic about the work of the current leadership. &nbsp;
It is a different story in Kathmandu, where Prime Minister Sushila Karki is struggling to manage the expectations of various youth collectives while trying to convince the old parties to participate in elections.&nbsp;
While the UML and NC are actively trying to delegitimise Karki’s government as they prepare to hold their respective general conventions, they are also preparing to give out tickets for elections.&nbsp;
Self-proclaimed GenZ leaders who used Discord to elect Karki prime minister are putting up their own conditions for the polls, even demanding her resignation for failing to meet their demands. This is in sharp contrast to the feelings of many of those injured during the protests who want elections so the nation can heal, and move on.

A new normal

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

This is the 76th 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. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

The second season of the Nepal Premier League (NPL) is a prettier and more mature product. The Tribhuvan University International Cricket Stadium has new flood lights, colourful seats, and more of them from which fans watch not just sixers soaring into the evening sky but also spectacular sunsets over the mountains.&nbsp; Tuesday’s match was a double header with matches 20 and 21 of the season. The early game was Chitwan Rhinos vs Janakpur Bolts, and in the evening Karnali Yaks played Pokhara Avengers. These were teams towards the bottom of the table, with plenty to play for.&nbsp; Things looked fluorescent with the high-vis vests of security, bright pink jerseys of the Bolts, vivid orange Rhinos and the neon green inDrive logo. Security is tight, and between buying tickets and getting to seats viewers are patted down four times, their ticket stubbed twice. The seats are divided into zones, set out by fan base, and they are full and loud throughout.&nbsp; The biggest name in NPL 1.0 last year was probably Shikhar Dhawan, but the second season has brought in internationals who have played at the highest levels: Jason Roy, Faf du Plessis, Imran Tahir, Wayne Parnell, Sohail Tanvir, Martin Guptill. &nbsp; Although they are now in the 35-40 age range and well past their athletic prime, they have been valuable as sources of experience and technique for young Nepali teammates who are preparing for the T20 World Cup in February. They are seeing firsthand the work that goes into being an international level professional.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  NPL 2.0 is also much more commercial. Boundary ropes and zones have logos on them, KFC and Asian Paints have their anamorphic logos designed for angle on the field, there is an electric vehicle on display, and the digital scoreboard shows ads in between balls and action on the field.&nbsp; Sponsors and advertisers have allowed the organisers to pull out all the stops to put up the month-long tournament. Maybe the next season will be broadcast with virtual advertising with digital overlay.&nbsp; Cricket is a much faster and more dynamic game in person with the whole field in view, while still being relaxing to watch due to its stop start nature, the winter sun and enchanting sunset views.&nbsp; In the morning game Janakpur bowled first. The defending champions had a defence failure with five losses out of five. They could not break the opening partnership of the Rhinos, who were cruising at about nine runs an over.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> </figure>  Thirteen overs into the Rhinos’ inning, they are 109 for zero. English batsman David Malan, 38, is on 59 off 42, and his opening partner Arjun Saud, 22 from Dhangadi, is on 50 off 37. The message from the dug out is clear: there are wickets in hand, so hit some sixes.&nbsp; Namibian leg spinner Nicol Loftie-Eaton was bowling for the Bolts, and the batsman went after him. They got off twice, with Rupesh Singh losing an easy catch in the sun, and then putting down a much harder chance running to his left.&nbsp; American Sanjay Krishnamurthi took a fantastic catch diving forward in the very next ball. The rest of Chitwan’s batting order got out regularly while still scoring at a decent clip. The Rhinos ended up posting 174, a big score of course, but not the 200+ that their strong start suggested.&nbsp; In the last over, young left-handed national team batsman Kushal Malla lofted a six on the off-side. The ball scored a direct hit on a cheerleader’s face, she crumpled to the ground, and was rushed on a stretcher to an ambulance. Meanwhile, Mr Gaida, the one-horned Chitwan mascot, stole the show as he roamed the boundary, swaying to the wide mix of DJ songs. The crowd cheered.&nbsp;  <figure> <video controls src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251206071236_63033e071dcdf7e9c6382f889e72f438318faed63d9a3c52d4ba6c10a6e357f6.mp4" alt="" width="100%" height="100%"></video> <figcaption>Mr Gaida, the one-horned Chitwan mascot, stole the show as he roamed the boundary, swaying to the wide mix of DJ songs. Vidoe: VISHAD RAJ ONTA</figcaption> </figure>  As the Bolts started batting, popular Irish commentator Andrew Leonard came down from the press box to check on cheerleaders. Three cheerleaders were reduced to one, but a male breakdancer had joined her.&nbsp; Janakpur were never in any real trouble as they chased. Young Pakistani all-rounder Maaz Sadaqat’s 63 off 30, and Anil Sah’s 61 of 36 propelled the Bolts to the target with two and a half overs to spare.&nbsp; At dusk, the floodlights come on, adding to the atmosphere. There is smoggy Kathmandu below and Langtang glowing pink on the horizon as the second match began.&nbsp; Karnali Yaks captain Sompal Kami won the toss and chose to bowl, but Adam Rossington’s 108 off 58 and Jason Roy’s 46 of 34 meant that Pokhara set up a target of 202. &nbsp; The Yaks started well, and were still very much in the game at over 10 with 95/3. But they lost wickets and slowed down. The pressure of the rising run rate got to the batting order, and soon they were all out for 167.&nbsp; In between innings and games, there is plenty for viewers to do in the carnival-like atmosphere outside. Asian Paints offers free face-painting. Ncell has a stall where viewers can pick up free new sims and play against a bowling machine to win t-shirts. KFC is the only food option around. Red Bulls are Rs150 per can. “Why do you think they’re dancing so hard out there?” asks the vendor of the caffeine-rich energy drink. “Red Bull.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025120412128_06edd8e6713c1e76c39364d3efb8ea54d4f7c3d8d2bf0d90933c993fdcfeba74.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025120412128_06edd8e6713c1e76c39364d3efb8ea54d4f7c3d8d2bf0d90933c993fdcfeba74" data-rendition-name="original" width="934" height="656" loading="lazy" alt="NPL fixtures NT"> </figure>  <h2>Starting a new innings</h2> Tek Raj Kharel had just dropped off his inDrive customer near Zone 3 and had been following the tournament, watching games in between rides. He thinks the NPL is more than a game, it is a carnival. “This festival is more for women than men,” says Kharel. How so? “They go to be seen on the digital screen and take selfies, and the men go to see the women.”&nbsp; This week both male and female fans on the stands were certainly dancing hard, and they did not seem to care much about which team was winning. They cheered both when batsmen hit boundaries, and when a wicket fell. They were there to have fun, cricket was just an excuse. A pair of friends were not having as much fun, and were obviously not too much into cricket. The youngsters exited early, with one telling the other to never invite him to something as boring again. Many other couples seemed to be on dates.&nbsp; There were also many dads with their young kids, both generations enjoying themselves. There are not too many other events in Nepal that the family can go to like this.&nbsp; “Any match you watch here is pretty entertaining,” says an older fan. “I didn’t really know much about cricket before but now it has become a habit.”&nbsp; Thanks to new Youth and Sports minister, 26-year old Bablu Gupta, at the end of day’s games, fans get a free ride on shuttle buses to Kalanki, Swayambhu, Bhaktapur and elsewhere in the Valley.&nbsp; There is a lot that is very good with the NPL, and not much that is bad. A few things need quick fixes.&nbsp; While the stadium itself is all right, outside where the stalls are, the ground is dusty and resembles a construction site with litter everywhere. There are no actual bathrooms. Siddhartha Bank has set up a few small makeshift steel sheds, where fans stand shoulder to shoulder to relieve themselves. &nbsp; The pricing system has to be rethought. Tickets started at Rs300 last year, and the stadium was packed. Tickets cost Rs500 now, and on weekdays many seats are empty. A new system where tickets get discounted depending on booking time would improve the atmosphere with bigger crowds. &nbsp; Even so, the NPL is a breath of fresh air in post-GenZ protest Nepal with the hope that the country is starting a new innings.&nbsp; Tickets on Khalti.

illegal-trade

Nepal's unequal wildlife laws

Lesser known endangered species

A new normal

The Himalaya is not fragile

My father’s son

Cricket carnival