Ram Kumari Bhattarai, 45, made the journey to Kathmandu from Surkhet on foot, walking for almost 27 days straight. In fliflops, the soles of her feet are cracked and bruised. Bhattarai had taken a loan of Rs1.8 million, using her gold jewellery as collateral but did not keep a written receipt. Coupled with a steep interest rate of 35%, she has to now make seemingly never-ending payments to the lender. If she is not able to, the usurer harasses her through death threats, land seizures.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240308090356_4f3804d9b30a58b35b1898da3eaa03656b6b7cb07aa1cf29f7682eeef2c28d40.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240308090356_4f3804d9b30a58b35b1898da3eaa03656b6b7cb07aa1cf29f7682eeef2c28d40" data-rendition-name="original" width="1499" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loan Shark Victims "> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240308090356_ffac6b5a55622eb873e129c2d9ebb6eeb94fc50c2b51c30f816536735d31d387.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240308090356_ffac6b5a55622eb873e129c2d9ebb6eeb94fc50c2b51c30f816536735d31d387" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loan Shark Victims "> </figure>  She is adamant about staying in Kathmandu until the government intervenes to help her and others like her. In recent months, loan shark victims like Bhattarai from across the country have walked to the capital by the thousands to protest, demanding the passing of laws that will address the problems they have faced in dealing with extortionist lenders with political protection in their districts.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240308090356_53b34388de4a1a28b56f2753cb0cf7e6e0513b8b3370209f7a41a85bdb062774.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240308090356_53b34388de4a1a28b56f2753cb0cf7e6e0513b8b3370209f7a41a85bdb062774" data-rendition-name="original" width="1281" height="1601" loading="lazy" alt="Loan Shark Victims "> </figure>  Victims claim that predatory money lenders have been duping them out of millions of rupees by calculating compound interests fraudulently. When the lendees cannot pay, they are subjected to mental torture and threats. With their husbands away for work, it is the women who have taken it upon themselves to find a solution to the problem, working day and night to clear their loans.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240308090356_218559decc4140e0a26bc6aad440710b2c8fbc096ff39020036c0eb09bdad287.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240308090356_218559decc4140e0a26bc6aad440710b2c8fbc096ff39020036c0eb09bdad287" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loan Shark Victims "> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240308090356_34134aa2f234b764f466f535d49ae33e062c79d1f07843a0b6ff36393c92f7ad.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240308090356_34134aa2f234b764f466f535d49ae33e062c79d1f07843a0b6ff36393c92f7ad" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loan Shark Victims "> </figure>  The women, mostly from the Tarai, have literally been behind the veil, but now have undertaken journeys of uncertainty and hardship to fight for survival because they have nothing left to lose.

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On Women's Day, nothing left to lose

The candidacy of Ram Chandra Paudel for Nepal’s next presidency backed by eight parties including the Nepali Congress and Maoist Centre this week is the latest proof (if any is still needed) of Nepal’s entrenched political patriarchy.
The series of backroom deals in the run-up to presidential elections on 9 March was meant to stop K P Oli of the UML from being all-too-powerful two-and-a-half years down the line when his party would have president, prime minister and speaker.
In this quagmire, we are losing a chance to elect a non-political president respected by all Nepalis. In the spirit of national unity and inclusiveness, it was the turn of a candidate from an indigenous community or a Dalit to be the third president of Nepal.
But what we are getting instead is another partisan figurehead who will continue the legacy of Bidya Devi Bhandari to do the bidding of a ruling party -- exactly why a ceremonial post has now become a dealmaker (or breaker).
Paudel’s presidency is probably a foregone conclusion and underscores the gerontocratic patriarchy in which a handful of superannuated incompetent and tainted men have been reshuffling the cards for more than two decades. They will not tire of mansplaining to us that they are just defending democracy and stability.
This is in direct contrast to the people’s strong show of support in the 2022 elections for young, independent leaders, the likes of Rabi Lamichhane, Toshima Karki, Balen Shah and Harka Sampang.
This is a sorry state of affairs for a country that at one time had women in the three topmost positions: Bidya Devi Bhandari as the President, Sushila Karki as the Chief Justice and Onsari Gharti Magar as Speaker.
Women also made up 33% of parliamentarians and, in the 2017 elections, women were elected to every local unit as either a mayor or a deputy mayor, or both.
While many argue that women were mostly confined to ceremonial posts or rarely got to contest the direct election, in 2022 they did not even get to be token women. Indigenous people, minorities and Dalits were even more sidelined as politicians used electoral alliances (between parties with diametrically opposing ideologies) to cheat them out of Constitutional provisions.
It is not surprising, therefore, that women are still unable to provide citizenship in their name to children while celebrities accused of rape wangle get-out-of-jail cards, and get back to business as usual.
Ironically, it is rural Nepal with its limited access to resources and low literacy rate where women are truly growing as leaders. With men away working overseas, women have taken a lead in every sector from community forestry and agriculture to school and health post management committees.
Community forestry, which doubled Nepal’s canopy cover in 25 years, is an internationally recognised model, while the Female Health Volunteers (FCHVs) program is the backbone of community healthcare in the country. In many ways, the feminisation of rural Nepal is empowering Nepali women to take charge by default.
Among the most dramatic successes of the last decades is the decline in childhood malnutrition and maternal mortality rate in Nepal, both of which are inversely correlated to increased literacy of girls.
But of late, progress has stagnated. In some areas, incidences of child marriage, malnutrition and maternal mortality are creeping up again. So, what are we missing?
<h2>Explaining to some men</h2>
Women empowerment needs men to not just accept equality, but make up for historical marginalisation. Most Nepali women are now aware of their rights and potential, many have proven themselves. But the attitude of men towards gender equity has not changed at the same rate. This can mean young men and boys unlearning the culture they have grown up with.
Homemakers are not jobless people. If all of their work was monetised, they would be the biggest earners in most families. A girl child, if given the same opportunity, can be at par, if not above her male counterpart. Educated career women have a more difficult life balancing home and work.
Only when men are educated do they respect all individuals, their choices and decisions. International Women’s Day on 8 March should not just be about women: it is about educating men, the men in our families, in our communities, and society. &nbsp;
Only then can we envision a world that is just and fair to everyone. And maybe then we won't need to mark an International Women's Day anymore.
Sonia Awale

Political patriarchy

Indra Maya Shrestha was raised in a village in Kavre by a sick mother and a father who could not afford to send her to school. She was always fascinated seeing people driving cars in the movies, and came to Kathmandu aged 17 with a dream of driving a car herself.But city life was not what she imagined, jobs were hard to come by, and getting a license was not so easy twenty years ago. One day, she rode a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/how-to-get-things-done-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Safa Tempo electric three wheeler</a> and was surprised to see a woman driving it.“That is when I thought, if those women can do it, so can I,” Shrestha recalls.It took her a year to get a driving license and become a Safa operator. Today, she owns her own three-wheeler and runs a charging station in Mahankal which can charge 35 battery-powered vehicles at one go.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cfc9c7e80680e0b789cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="126" height="150"/><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cfe9c7e80680e0b789djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Shrestha drives along four routes in the Sankhamul-Chabahil-Boudha-Kapan area with fellow female tempo operators Sunshang Ghising and Saraswoti Moktan. There were at most 20 <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10936#.Yies6S8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">female Safa Tempo drivers</a> 20 years ago. Today there are 500.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720d029c7e80680e0b789ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="519" height="500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Saraswati Moktan came to Kathmandu from Hetauda as a newly married woman in 2002. Her husband took a job as a tempo operator, and when she found out that women drove the tempos too, she learned to drive as well.“My husband taught me to drive but when it was time to get a license, he stopped me,” recalls Moktan, who spent the next few years raising her son. “But in 2011, I put my foot down, this time he didn’t stop me.”Sunshang Ghising grew up in a family of five siblings in Dolakha. “My family had to wait for Dasain to wear nice clothes. How could my parents have afforded to send five kids to school?” she says.Ghising came to Kathmandu as a young mother 10 years ago, and initially worked as a seamstress. After the 2015 earthquake, she bought a Safa Tempo, at first not intending to drive it herself but after meeting other operators, changed her mind. She failed the licence test a few times, but got one eventually.For Shrestha, Ghising and Moktan, operating electric three-wheelers has been a path to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/vibrant-mithila-art-thrives-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">financial independence, supporting their families</a>, and putting children through school.“We are self-sufficient business operators,” says Ghising proudly.Adds Moktan, “We did not get the chance to be educated, and that is always a regret. But we have worked hard to educate our children.”Shrestha points to the jewellery Ghising is wearing, and laughs, “She bought that driving a Safa Tempo.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-backs-evs-to-boost-hydro-electricity-uptake/">Nepal backs EVs to boost hydro-electrivity uptake</a>,  Nepali Times<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720d049c7e80680e0b789fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Other women <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/women-standing-above-the-ground" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Safa Tempo drivers have moved on</a>. Chanmaya Tamang drove three-wheelers in Kathmandu for ten years, and now owns a car in which she gives driving lessons for women.It has not been easy for the women drivers. Women drivers are frequently harassed by traffic police and face constant discrimination.“Imagine, the police still ask us why we are out on the roads instead of at home cooking,” says Tamang. “If we attempt to talk back, they issue a fine on the spot.”Shrestha says she has been<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> sexually harassed</a> as well. Policemen often pull her over and initiate unwanted conversation. “They ask for our phone numbers, and if we refuse they give us tickets. Some women have actually quit driving because of this.”Meanwhile, the response from the passengers is markedly different, many are still surprised to find women behind the wheels. Some express their respect and appreciation when they get off at their stops, others do not ask for change or even pay five times the fare amount.“We know we have worked very hard, and we don’t need validation,” says Moktan. “But it still feels good to get such responses every once in a while.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720d079c7e80680e0b78a0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Because they operate electric vehicles, these female entrepreneurs are also helping Nepal reduce fossil fuel use and meet its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/net-zero-is-not-zero/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">goal of net-zero emissions</a>.Sonika Manandhar’s fin-tech company Aloi has been helping Safa Tempo entrepreneurs get affordable financing since 2018, and says the 700 electric three-wheelers are an important component of Kathmandu Valley’s public transport network, and have contributed to reducing Nepal’s climate impact in the past 30 years.“I call them climate ninjas,” Manandhar says.Safa Tempos started out in 1993 as a USAID project to convert polluting diesel Vikram three-wheelers into battery powered ones.Safa’s lithium-ion batteries need to be replaced every five years, while the lead-acid batteries are replaced every six months. At present, there are more than 700 Safa Tempos in Kathmandu Valley.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720d0a9c7e80680e0b78a1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-must-scrap-old-diesel-vehicles/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">government’s ban</a> on 20-year old vehicles extends to the Safa tempos too. Even though operators successfully lobbied to extend it to 30 years, they have to constantly convince bureaucrats about the utility of these vehicles.Safe Tempos have also dissuaded many Nepali women from migrating overseas for work by providing a well-paying alternative job at home.“We earn as much here comfortably, and double that if we own our own vehicle,” says Shrestha.The chat with this reporter is over, and the women get out of the office into the sun and talk business for a while.Then Saraswati Moktan gets into Chanmaya Tamang’s Maruti. They say goodbye and leave, Tamang’s toddler seated in Moktan’s lap. Indra Maya Shrestha and Sunshang Ghising make their way to a teashop on their Shivaratri off day.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-goes-electric-but-conditions-apply/">Nepal goes electric, but conditions apply</a>, Ramesh Kumar

Shristi Karki

Women in the driving seat

<figure><img width="1342" height="899" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cf99c7e80680e0b789ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: DARAZ</figcaption></figure>Aanchal Kunwar sits in her office that has an overview of employees of Daraz busy at their desks. A meeting is in progress in  a conference room next door.In January, Kunwar became one of few women in leadership in Nepal’s corporate sector, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/anchal-kunwar-at-daraz/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">heading the operations of Daraz</a>, the company now owned by China’s Alibaba.Kunwar was working for Amazon in Seattle when a recruiter reached out to her via LinkedIn to let her know that the Managing Director position was open at Daraz in Nepal. “I felt like coming back to Nepal after gaining all the experience would be more impactful than whatever else I could be doing right now in the US,” she says.Kunwar was born and raised in Kathmandu and spent her early childhood moving around the country because of her father’s job. She left for the US after high-school, graduated in maths and economics, and began to work for Carlson Wagonlit Travel (CWT) while doing her MBA. She then worked for Amazon for five and a half years, managing the company’s mass cosmetics business, working in global expansion -- helping launch the platform in countries like Sweden, Poland, Saudi Arabia and Egypt.  “Four years into that job is where I was starting to think --what do I want to do next in my life?” Kunwar recalls.  <img width="126" height="150" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cfb9c7e80680e0b789bjpeg.jpg" alt="">“There was a clear path in terms of just moving up the ladder in the corporate world. But something in me was telling me that wasn't enough, and that I needed not something more, but probably something different, something that I believed would be more fulfilling.”  Kunwar had been considering going into the non-profit sector when Covid hit. “With the pandemic, I thought I’ll just hold my thoughts for a little bit because there were a lot of other things to handle.” When the Daraz opening in Nepal came up, she remembers thinking: “That would be cool.” Daraz would be a perfect fit: she was Nepali, had similar approaches to running a business in terms of being <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-company-wins-global-environment-awards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">socially and environmentally responsible</a>, and a customer focus.  Kunwar’s entry into Daraz coincides with a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-e-shopping-booms-under-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">dramatic growth in e-commerce in Nepal</a> as Nepalis locked up at home during the pandemic began to explore online purchases.   “The pandemic has definitely helped push people towards e-commerce more,” Kunwar notes. “Prior to the pandemic it was probably just the younger generation but during the pandemic, even the older demographics understood the convenience and started buying things online.”  Kunwar is convinced the Nepali market is quick to adopt new technologies, and gives the example of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-e-conomy-rapidly-goes-digital/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">growth in e-payments</a>. Even till last year, only 10% of Daraz business was through e-payments, now it is half.  Kunwar’s experience at Amazon has given her insight into how global markets operate, and the unique set of challenges that markets across the world present with legal restrictions, logistics, and tools. Nepal’s challenges include lack of experience in e-commerce which means sellers need the right kind of training and education to be able to answer questions, so buyers have the information they need to make a judgement call, she says. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-budding-e-commerce-ecosystem/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's budding e-commerce ecosystem</a>, Sikuma Rai Another challenge is that Nepal does not have a proper GPS mapping system, and deliveries still have to call people to figure out where exactly they are located. “An unstable government adds to the challenges with banda announcements,” Kunwar says. “And during Covid, if there is a lockdown or odd-even rules, we have to navigate that and ensure proper delivery. These challenges are unique to Nepal, you wouldn’t see them in the US.” She adds, “The companies I worked for in the US are very mature businesses, where processes are defined. Here in Nepal we still have a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Cross-Cutting/Start-ups-need-staying-power,439" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">start-up</a> culture. But we will probably be where Amazon is now in a number of years.”  Daraz currently operates in 47 cities across Nepal, and plans to expand to 80 this year. But Kunwar wants to take one step at a time, and have the logistics in place for growth. “In the last two years, we have had to run before we could walk, but in order to keep growing, we just need to have processes in place,” she says. “We need our key account managers to focus more on strategy and then have execution be more on a lower level.” This is dependent on improvements in connectivity, people being able to shop online, road infrastructure, and mapping systems.   As Daraz Nepal’s managing director, Kunwar joins a growing number of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/women-leaders-set-example-for-rest-of-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepali women taking the lead</a> in the corporate world. “My family raised me no differently than my brother,” she says. “So I’ve always questioned the status quo. I don't take 'This is just how things are’ as an answer.” She admits that there have been instances since she joined Daraz where men in power have shut her down halfway through her introduction.  “It is something that I wish was different but it’s not,” she admits. “But I don't necessarily let that get to me as long as it is not preventing me from doing what I want to do for the business, and for the country.” Kunwar says her driving force is putting in the hard work, and making her presence felt. Outside Daraz, Kunwar is passionate about education for under-served Nepalis and sponsors young students.   She wants to focus on mentorship because even when students have funding for education, they cannot dream bigger because they are stuck in their social milieu.  “I came back to make an impact for Nepal, it is broader than just Daraz,” says Kunwar. “Five years from now, I'm hoping to make some impact here, in addition to taking Daraz to new heights with the team.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/holding-up-half-the-economy/">Holding up half the economy</a>, Ashutosh Tiwari

New Daraz MD seeks to make an impact in Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cdb9c7e80680e0b7890jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photo: NAMRATA SHARMA</figcaption></figure>"I am who I am today because my father raised me as if he would a son and encouraged me to do what I wanted,” says Bimita Bhandari, one of the first women tour operators in the Chitwan National Park as she takes visitors around on a safari.The theme of International Women’s Day this year is #BreakTheBias, something Bhandari was already doing on her own, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hop-over-the-gender-gap/">breaking gender norms and stereotypes</a>. But every girl should be allowed the same and given the right kind of support, she says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cde9c7e80680e0b7891jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="126" height="150">“Girls should not be <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-the-climate-crisis-adds-to-child-marriage-in-nepal/">married off early</a> and allowed to pursue a career they want. Both recognition and money would help them to overcome discrimination,” adds 27-year-old Bhandari, who was one of the first three women to receive a jungle guide license at the Park.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cdf9c7e80680e0b7892jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption>Photo: NAMRATA SHARMA</figcaption></figure>A daughter of a forest guard herself, Bhandari grew up loving nature. She was adventurous from a young age, which also got her into a lot of trouble. One of her earliest memories is of a close encounter with a rhino that she managed to outrun.After this, she developed a sixth sense that has since helped her and her companions to steer clear of the wildlife in case of an encounter, something that would come in handy when she took tourists out on jungle safari.Early on she also saw how boys and men in her community were earning both money and respect as forest guides, instilling in her a desire to become one too. So when her classmates were being married off, her father encouraged her to pursue her dream, eventually allowing her to be a professional of her choice.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720ce29c7e80680e0b7893jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">But it was not always so rosy for Bhandari, who was only 16 when she became a forest guide. She was initially not taken seriously and had to serve as an assistant guide. Her male colleagues constantly ridiculed her and doubted her ability to take tourists on jungle safari.But when they saw her skillfully handle tourists with her knowledge of the forest and the wildlife, and save them from dangerous situations in the wild, she gained their trust.Tourists were also impressed with her services, adding to her own confidence. Today, Bhandari is one of the most sought-after and recognised guides in the region. The fact that she can also speak Mandarin, English and Hindi helps.Bhandari does not much remember her mother who passed away while she was still a toddler. She was raised by a supportive father. But neighbours and relatives were against her taking up a career traditionally reserved for men.“But that did not bother me because my father was my strength and helped me to be the first woman in my community to take up such a career,” says Bhandari, who is also a promising wildlife photographer.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720ce59c7e80680e0b7894jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Red panda in its habitat in Ilam. Photo: Bimita Bhandari</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720ce89c7e80680e0b7895jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Bengal Tiger in Chitwan national park. Photo: Bimita Bhandari</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cec9c7e80680e0b7896jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Bengal tiger enjoying a swim in Bardia Photo: Bimita Bhandari</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cef9c7e80680e0b7897jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>A pair of mugger crocodiles mating in Chitwan national park. Photo: Bimita Bhandari</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cf39c7e80680e0b7898jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Wild cat. Photo: Bimita Bhandari</figcaption></figure>Initially, she used her phone to take pictures but she now has a Nikon G500 she bought with her savings. On a small scale, her photographs are sold in the local market and one even made it to the calendar of the Nepal Tourism Board.Much like many talented youths in rural Nepal, she does not have access to national and international platforms to showcase her wildlife photography. But for now, her pictures can be viewed in her Instagram account @bimitaphotography.Bhandari has made her dreams come true, she has both respect and money. But the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-reopening-for-tourists/">Covid-19 crisis</a> hit her family hard.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cf69c7e80680e0b7899jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="996" height="1500"><figcaption>Wild elephant pictured in Chitwan national park. Photo: Bimita Bhandari</figcaption></figure>“I have used up all my savings,” she says, adding that she is in no hurry to marry. She trusts in her abilities to care for her family of her father, stepmother and brother once tourism is up and running.For women to break biases, discover new talents and provide them bigger platforms, Bhandari shows that it is not enough to mark just one day a year with token gestures. We must be committed to working for their welfare throughout the year.Read  also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/women-conservationists-brave-discrimination-and-the-wild/">Women conservationists brave discrimination, and the wild</a>, Nepali Times

Nepali safari guide breaks the bias

After celebrating World Wildlife Day which coincided with Global Day of Baristas on Thursday, the world as we know it is now getting ready to mark the International Women’s Day (IWD) on Tuesday.After fulfilling the onerous responsibility of holding up all the sky for most of human history, we men can now safely bequeath to the womenfolk the duty of holding up not just the rightful half of the sky, but our half as well.This will mean more free time for men so that we can indulge in various hygienic pursuits that we have previously neglected because of our busy schedules — like burping loudly in public and excavating our ear wax.IWD is a special occasion to celebrate the empowerment and self-reliance of women, and their rejection of expensive beauty products that were being foisted on them through clever advertising for the sole purpose of appealing to hunter gatherer men.The time has therefore come for us men and boys to take up the cudgels, and put in some effort ourselves to look fair and lovely. (Editor’s note: Google ‘cudgel’ to check if it is a rude word.)A recent survey showed that 80% of the men in the Subcontinent secretly break into the cosmetic drawers of their wives to steal beauty products. The other 20% dressed up as women and bought fairness cream from their neighbourhood drug store, according to unusually reliable sources.(This week's column is a Special Advertorial Supplement proudly sponsored by Pale FaceTM brand fairness cream for men. Registered TradeMark, Copy-cats Will Be Persecuted. Patent Pending.)Thankfully, it is the private sector that has come to the rescue by launching a risky and pioneering venture to announce new products designed for men. After achieving astounding KPI and sales in parts of the Turd World, the companies have discovered a vast untapped market in Nepal among male consumers for a range of fairness lotions and potions under the brand name White ElephantTM.The fact that cosmetics conglomerates these days do not discriminate between the needs of men and women is a sign that we are finally edging towards gender parity in everyday life. Card-carrying members of the male persuasion will now have the same access to beauty products that women have.This was not easy, since he-men like us tend to be more thick-skinned and hirsute. The new oinkment therefore had to be an industrial grade mixture of bleach, exfoliator, concentrated white enamel paint with a paraffin-based emulsion fixer. Directions for use: Apply liberally on the affected dark areas twice a day after meals. And, voila, within just two days you won't be dark and ugly anymore, you will be fair and handsome like Michael Jackson.The product range also has the popular Albino Crème de la CrèmeTM designed for high society men. So, this March 8 all men of drinking age and above should symbolically demonstrate their solidarity for gender equality by using products designed for women, and take up the cudgels to be fair to the unfair sex.

Ass s

Unfair sex

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c889c7e80680e0b7875jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1053" height="1012"/><figcaption>Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>On nights when things got unbearable, Laxmi Maya always stepped out of the house in the quiet of the night. There was nowhere to go, really, but the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7121#.YiRUsy8w3u0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">gully</a>. The gully or galli, as she said it, was the long tunnel that went from under the house on the main street into a courtyard where one of the four houses flanking the square, brick-paved space, was hers. Her husband’s family’s rather.The bickering over the house had gone on for so long. Every few weeks, government officials showed up at her threshold, and asked her innumerable questions. Where was the infamous husband? “I don’t know,” was Laxmi Maya’s consistent answer.As time went by, she had learned to say those words without at all batting an eyelid. And as she said it on repeat, the words became more believable to the government officials, as they did to her. She had started to believe she had no idea about his whereabouts.In her mind, Calcutta was a distant country of which she did not know anything. She did not know what its streets or nooks looked like or how the tram she had heard about operated. And so knowing that her husband was in Calcutta was tantamount to not knowing where he was. So, her statement was not entirely false.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/coping-with-the-patriarchy/">Coping with patriarchy</a>, Bhumi GhimiréThe government officials always appeared in a pair. Laxmi Maya would hurry upstairs to her baiga after asking them to sit down on the wicker mats and quickly poach two eggs and pour a dash of aeila into little copper kholas and present them before the men.“So you do not know where your husband is?” one of them would ask between taking a sip.“I don’t,” she would say quietly.“We are only letting you live in this house because you have three small children. By law, he is banished and so everything he owns is now government property, we hope you know.”“I know, Sarkar. But this house was given to me in dowry by my father,” Laxmi Maya would lie again. It had become a drill.Promptly, the officers would leave after polishing off their snack, setting in motion for Laxmi Maya, the wait for another such visit.Did she miss the husband? She could not say. His presence had been punctuated by his time spent with the dancers, or neighbourhood events from where he always came away as the feared. What was there to miss of such a man, besides moments of imagined intimacy when his limbs were hers to hold? She wondered, had she been a dancer, would it also have kept him from straying? Yes, they said he had strayed.Read also: <a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-unequal-marriages/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's unequal marriages</a>, Anjana RajbhandaryBut the women in her clan did not dance. They had not been taught to. Dancing, they said, was for women who were “loose”. They had taught her to speak softly, tread softer and to hold her tongue and restrict her movements to grace. That was who she was-- all those things they said she should be.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c8a9c7e80680e0b7876jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="126" height="150">Standing in the darkness of the galli, Laxmi Maya often felt streams of hot tears soak her face. She had never learned to cry before others, so the quiet of the night was a good time. On one such night, she had seen rows of carriages go by, carrying large boxes. They were followed by rumours that the Ranas were getting their belongings removed to India because some kind of revolution was afoot to throw them off. They said that was why the king had left for India.Tonight, though, there was no such activity. It was quiet. As Laxmi Maya stood there, tears finding their way down her jaw, she thought she saw a light flicker near the Naradevi temple. It was followed by the clanking of a door and then of ghangala, the bunch of bells worn by the goddess. Wafting in with the sound was the goddess herself, stepping out of her temple, draped in a long red frock, a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-behind-the-divine-mask/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">mask</a> on her face. As the deity started doing the familiar dance, lilting her hands in the air, feet shuffling, Laxmi Maya froze, but her tears ran down in thick rivulets. She stared in awe and trembled.…“The wedding was fun?”“The ratyauli was fun.”“The what?”“Yes. Ratyauli. I had heard about it but never seen one before,” says Mamu.I ask her to explain, but she says she cannot because it would embarrass us both. She will not divulge any detail, but tells me how she felt a tinge of envy that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/parodying-patriarchy-at-tij/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women had the liberty</a> to engage in that kind of lewd talk without being judged while singing and dancing and acting.Read also: <a style="font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/boys-will-be-boys-is-never-an-excuse/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Boys will be boys is never an excuse</a>, Anjana Rajbhandary“How come women in our community don’t dance?” I ask.“We have the gods and the goddess, the masked dancers,” she says.“But they are all men wearing masks,” I remind her. Then Mamu goes on to explain how apart from the Jyapu community, women from other clans had never been given that kind of freedom.“Don’t you think that is so unfair? Taking the right from you to revel, to be in tune with your own body. When else do you explore the joy of being in your body as you do with dancing? It is so much to take away from a woman.”“I don’t know, I never thought about it. My movements don’t sync and so I don’t dance.”Mamu often sits in a corner watching others dance. When asked to dance, she will sometimes try, but her footwork never matches her hand gestures or the music: “I guess, I just watch people dance.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/patriarchy-in-an-oligarchy/">Patriarchy in an oligarchy</a>, Editorial…Dance! My senior, who is having a “ragging” session with me, orders. Do the twist, she says, and sings a Rafi number. What is a twist, I wonder. She says, if you do not obey your seniors, you measure the entire campus with a one rupee coin. In my heart, I wished I could just dance and get over it. But I can’t. Like Mamu, my feet are wooden, too. I just stand there, my face burning in shame and fury.Here, she says. Take this coin and now go measure the entire place with it.As I bend down at her feet and place the coin on the ground, I wish I could have told her I cannot dance because women in my community <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/letter-to-a-nepali-aunty/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">are not expected to dance</a>. But saying that, would also require a dance-- of the tongue. So, I bend down and start flipping the coin inch by inch across the campus.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/anger-management-for-nepali-women/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Feel angry? read this</a>, Anjana RajbhandarySuburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

The light of feet

<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd7d99c7e80680e092e0ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>When the Immigration Department last month <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-immobility-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">proposed travel restrictions</a> for women under 40, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/more-anti-government-rallies-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepalis took to the streets</a> wearing black, chanting slogans and holding placards.The rage on the streets was magnified as the proposal coincided with a series of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/republic-of-rape/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">unsolved rape cases</a>, and prolonged political stalemate due to feuding alpha males in the ruling NCP holding the country hostage.The proposed travel ban was only the latest in a long saga of restrictive policies against women in the past 20 years, as Upasana Khadka meticulously details in her column <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Labour Mobility</a>. Mostly, they were misguided attempts to curb trafficking.Last year, in a move to revise the long-debated Citizenship Bill, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-waits-for-an-unequal-citizenship-law/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">NCP bungled the task</a>. Nepal is one of a few countries where citizenship laws are so discriminatory.Xenophobic politicians have long used nationalism to justify <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-citizenship-bill-is-a-hornets-nest/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">unequal citizenship for Nepali women</a>. For a state that acts as if it is so protective of women, it has spectacularly failed to prosecute perpetrators of sexual violence, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/daughter-slaughter/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">acid attacks</a>, dowry, and domestic violence.The case of 17-year-old Bhagarathi Bhatta, murdered after rape in Baitadi in February became exceptional only because it was resolved by the police. Most other <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/four-fold-increase-in-reported-rape-in-10-years/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rape cases</a> are either unlawfully ‘settled’ through police mediation, or perpetrators are never caught, like in the Nirmala Pant case three years ago.However, with little or no help from an uncaring state and despite roadblocks and limitations, Nepali women have broken stereotypes, challenged gender roles and have achieved as much, if not more, than their privileged male counterparts. We have featured some of them in this International Women’s Day Special Issue of Nepali Times. <img width="126" height="150" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd7dc9c7e80680e092e0bjpeg.jpg" alt="">And perhaps it is a sign of times that women, particularly in the urban centres <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-turn-their-backs-on-misogyny/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">do not accept discriminatory laws and archaic patriarchal values</a> anymore, they fight for their rights, advocate and speak out despite <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Online-violence-against-women,2915" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">vicious online trolls</a>, attempts at character assassination and threats of abuse and death.At the same time, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Nepal-land-of-our-daughters,2901" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women have transformed the landscape of rural Nepal</a>. Partly, this is because the men are missing: gone abroad for work. This is where women’s empowerment is most felt, they till the farms, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-hold-up-more-than-half-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">build highways</a>, lead community forestry groups, run schools.During the 2015 earthquakes, it was the women who kept the families together and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/mountains-without-men-sindhupalchok,3585" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rebuilt homes</a>. New studies show that women-headed households have fared far better during the economic crisis caused by the pandemic.Given the chance, Nepali women have also time and again proven their mettle in leadership positions. After the local elections in 2017, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/women-leaders-set-example-for-rest-of-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Hupsekot in Nawalparasi</a> and Jumla became two municipalities in which <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/jumlas-great-leap-into-the-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women were voted both chair and deputy</a>. In most others, deputy mayors are required by law to be women if the mayor is a man.Mayor Kantika Sejuwal of the Nepali Congress and vice-mayor Apsara Devi Neupane of the NCP have <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/holding-up-the-whole-sky-in-jumla/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">together improved</a> education, farming, nature conservation, and now Covid-19 management in Jumla. The chest-thumping male leaders of the NCP in Kathmandu should be ashamed of themselves.Imagine what we could have achieved if the Jumla and Hupsekot model was replicated in more of Nepal’s 736 municipalities, 17 cities, and the Central Government. Only 3 in the 22-member Cabinet are women, and women in politics are still largely confined to the kind of ceremonial roles ascribed to President Bidya Devi Bhandari.We might boast of having one of the largest female representations in Parliament but few have a say in matters of importance. We need to encourage <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-leaders-seen-but-not-heard/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">female politicians</a> who dare to stick to principles inctead of over-scrutinising them for just being women.Similarly, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/uneven-pandemic-impact-on-nepali-women/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">80% of Nepal’s labour force is female</a> but they continue to be restricted to the ‘informal sector’. We have to utilise their full potential and promote equality at home and in the workplace for women to gain economic independence.International Women’s Day on 8 March must not be limited to tokenism. We have to strive for gender equality in every sphere of life as if every day is women’s day. We must pay special heed to the doubly-discriminated women from Dalit and other excluded groups, as well as gender minorities who identify themselves as women.Nepal’s progress in public health, education, nutrition and poverty alleviation is directly proportional to increased female literacy. What needs to change now are laws, cultural norms and values that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">still treat women as half-citizens</a>.Sonia Awale

Sonia Awale

Everyday as if it is Women’s Day

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a298d9c7e80680e0458d4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="720"/><figcaption>Journalists and activists including Namrata Sharma met in Jakarta recently to discuss gender discrimination.</figcaption></figure>“My alcoholic father used to beat me and my mother, and I always protected my mother. After treatment my father is sober now, but my mother has started scolding me and makes me do all the household chores, giving me very little time to study,” says Sarita from a remote village in  Banke district of western Nepal. But Sarita may as well be in Indonesia, Europe or North America.Gender discrimination is pervasive and widespread, and the problem is the same all over the world, as we heard from activists and investigative journalists from 15 countries at a recent interaction in Jakarta.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s better halves</a>, Anil ChitrakarAfter the end of the Suharto regime, an Indonesian participant said, the economy improved, but gender-based discrimination and violence were still prevalent in both urban and rural areas. Women still bore the brunt of patriarchal taboos, making it difficult for them to reach the top of their professions, earn better salaries, and upgrade living standards. Most agreed that there had been progress in amending existing laws and formulating new ones to end discrimination, but the violence itself had not abated.Cases of rape and incest are reported every day from all over the world, in both developed and developing countries. In Nepal, <a href="https://cijnepal.org.np/unsafe-homes-victimized-by-own/">20 cases were reported by Center for Investigative Journalism</a> (CIJ) Nepal during a 16-day campaign against Violence Against Women in 2018, majority of them involved rape of minor girls by relatives or neighbours.International Women’s Day draws attention worldwide to a global problem, in rich and poor, East and West. The women’s movement has achieved great progress when it comes to amending and promulgating laws and in creating mechanisms to hold countries accountable for injustice. In the last few years new movements have allowed women to speak out more boldly against sexual harassment in the workplace through the #Metoo movement.“For me International Women's Day (IWD) 2019 is a precious moment and a safe space where women are inspired to talk about their stories through protests and artwork,” says Meggy Katigbak of Asian People’s Movement on Debt and Development. However, she acknowledges that there is discrimination even among women by race, class, colour, and other factors.“Liberal feminists who focus on identity politics do not fully understand or appreciate that it the intersects with the struggles of other women,” she adds.But ironically, despite the popularity of International Women's Day, the situation of most women is still the same as on the day women garment workers first gathered to protest in 1908 in New York. Many countries now have rules that allow women to assert their rights, but many like Sarita in Nepal do not have the means to raise their voice against discrimination they face on a daily basis.The 2019 campaign theme for International Women's Day is #BetterforBalance, with the message of improving gender balance for a better world. Though there are more women in different professions today, at least 33% is needed to make it a critical mass, and women have not reached that number in most professions and decision making positions.Nepal marks International Women's Day with a government holiday, but that is barely enough to address many gender issues prevalent here. According to the 2016 World Economic Forum report, Nepal ranks 110th out of 144 countries in gender parity, and UN Women ranks Nepal 110th out of 145 countries in the Global Gender Gap Index. According to the 2016 <a href="https://www.dhsprogram.com/pubs/pdf/FR336/FR336.pdf">Demographic and Health Survey report of Government of Nepal</a>, the number of employed women in 2016 is only 68% as compared to 83% in 2006, and 68% of these women are three times more likely than men to not to be paid for their labour. And Nepal ranks third highest in child marriage in Asia.In order for victims like Sarita to be able to communicate better and access education, safe shelter and better livelihood, a social revolution is required where the rights of all people are recognised and accepted by society. Having an institutional set-up with proactive laws help, but equally important is empowering women. It is important to recognise that inequality leads to more difficult lives for all. We need to move towards better gender balance for the wellbeing for all.Namrata Sharma is the Chair of the Centre for Investigative Journalism.

#BalanceforBetter

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141136/636515de9c7e80680e02c1e1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="368"/>Ford has announced a special offer for women drivers on the occasion of International Women’s Day by giving special discounts on booking a Ford car and gift hampers for every female visitor at its showrooms across Nepal.

Women's week

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

Four international names in architecture, Shigeru Ban, Rem Koolhaas, Tadao Ando and Louis Isadore Kahn, all left their mark in Nepal. But despite their best intentions, the ambitious designs fizzled out. Ban, Koolhaas and Ando won Pritzkers, the best known international award for architecture, and Kahn could have won it had the prize been given in his lifetime. But their designs fell short of transforming Nepali architecture and did not help inspire local architects.&nbsp; Why were these four ‘starchitects’ unable to pull off their Nepal projects and enrich the country with exemplary contemporary designs? The failure, especially the violation of Kahn’s design, also raises larger questions about how much contemporary architecture is valued in Nepal.&nbsp; Whereas Sri Lanka had Geoffrey Bawa and Bangladesh had Mazharul Islam, the pioneers of contemporary architecture in Nepal have had far less public appreciation. One wonders if Nepali architecture only refers to the monuments and heritage of the past. Nepal does have examples of outstanding modern architecture such as the &nbsp;पाङ्रे घर ‘Wheel House’ and खुट्टे घर &nbsp;‘House on Legs’ by Shankar Nath Rimal in the 1960s. These are the best examples of how some Nepali designers successfully tailored modern architecture to the Nepali context.&nbsp; Ten years ago, Nepal had three architecture magazines, SPACES, praXis and Business Architecture, but none of these survived. This newspaper has prominently covered contemporary architecture, and the built environment, but these are exceptions in Nepal’s media. There have been a few encouraging signs. The 2024 exhibition Modern Encounters in Architecture in Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985) at the Taragaon Museum had many visitors and its accompanying book is a seminal document.&nbsp; In 2023, the Mountain Architecture Dialogue (MAD) that focused on examples of good-practice sustainable contemporary architecture for the mountainous terrains of Nepal was a packed event with over 300 young architects, engineers, environmentalists and architecture students. <h2>Shigeru Ban</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="990" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Shigeru Ban had already built a name for himself in post-disaster construction when he came to Nepal following the 2015 earthquakes in which 500,000 people lost their homes. The basic design and its 3D-rendered images were reviewed in upbeat articles on DOMUS, Architectural Review, Dezeen, and Arch Daily.&nbsp; But his signature cardboard tubes could not handle the monsoon and the roof structure had to be re-designed with timber. Only two shelters were completed in Sindupalchok, and only one of them still stands at the Hyatt Regency grounds today, as Ban’s souvenir to Nepal.&nbsp; <h2>Rem Koolhaas</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The designs of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas have a specific signature: bold shapes and an intriguing architectural typology that challenges standard building blocks. Some designs even seem to defy gravity, like the CCTV headquarters in Beijing: an angular, continuous geometry of glass and steel.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1168" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rem Koolhaas' design for Ullen's School in Khumaltar.</figcaption> </figure>  Koolhaas was commissioned by Belgian billionaire Guy Ullens to design a new building for Ullens School in Khumaltar. The most prominent feature is its vertical glass block staircase. Some interior spaces have lowered windowsills, which provide ample views and daylight. But the school building has gone unremarked in Nepal. <h2>Tadao Ando</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675" data-rendition-name="original" width="626" height="628" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> </figure>  Doctors providing aid to victims of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995 in Japan requested Tadao Ando, who had donated his Pritzker money to the victims, to also make a design for a hospital in Butwal.&nbsp; Ando’s contribution would be pro-bono and the construction was funded by the Hanshin Earthquake victims and by the popular Japanese newspaper Mainichi, as a tribute to Nepali doctors. The first block that Ando designed for the Siddhartha Children and Women’s Hospital (SCWH) was the out-patient department. He quickly realised that he would not be able to pull off structures with his typical style of smooth-finished, high-quality concrete.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579" data-rendition-name="original" width="1594" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Tadao Ando's Siddhartha Children and Women Hospital in Butwal.</figcaption> </figure>  Ando wrote in the online architectural catalog Architectuul, that the two main problems with the project were costs and the availability of local technology. ‘It became a facility that has a slightly different expression from the buildings I have completed so far,’ he wrote. He designed a colonnade for the west façade that would provide shelter from harsh sunlight, and the exposed brick walls were locally manufactured bricks.&nbsp; The hospital is characterised by modernist cuboidal massing, but the outer brick façades now appear unintentionally badly weathered by monsoons. The interiors lack both sufficient natural light and natural ventilation. <h2>Louis I Kahn</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f" data-rendition-name="original" width="694" height="926" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  American architect Louis I Kahn had experience of projects in South Asia, and several were under construction when he died suddenly in 1974. Amongst these were the National Assembly complex in Dhaka, the Indian Institute of Management in Ahmedabad and the Family Planning and Maternal Child Welfare Centre in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Kahn had started the USAID funded project in Nepal by developing a master plan for the government institutional zone in Kathmandu, which included a building for the Health Ministry. The building’s façade in exposed brick has deeply recessed vertical windows for shading.&nbsp; The balancing of accentuated horizontal lines in the brickwork with the verticality of the larger composition is the work of a master. The brick walls rise up into punctured parapet walls at the roof level. These square apertures ‘frame the sky’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1924" height="1242" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Louis Kahn's plan for the Ministry of Health.</figcaption> </figure>  When Kahn died, only the eastern half of the building was finished. The Western part was never built and Nepal’s bureaucrats decided that without paint, the exposed brick façade was not finished. Then in 1995, citing roof leakage and a space crunch, the Health Ministry added a floor.&nbsp; The frames-to-the-sky in the roof parapet were converted into windows and topped off with a sloping roof of corrugated steel sheets, whose only virtue was that it was cost-effective.&nbsp; Kahn’s orthogonal composition, which clean horizontal and vertical lines, was desecrated despite a public outcry and legal challenges from architects and cultural organisations. A version of this article was first published in HIMAL Southasian. Illustrations by Varun S Bapu.

Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

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