Bidya Prasad Pant was a junior ophthalmic assistant at <a href="https://getaeyehospital.org.np/">Geta Eye Hospital</a> in Dhangadi when a 70-year-old man, blinded by cataract, was brought in by a relative who carried him for a week in a bamboo basket from Bajhang.&nbsp; Back then in 1984, the charity-funded hospital only performed cataract operations when its Nordic surgeons were visiting. So the man had to be turned away. &nbsp; “It made me feel helpless, my inability to help the man touched me deeply. I made up my mind to be an eye surgeon myself,” Pant told us just before flying to Copenhagen to receive this year’s Boberg-Ans Award from the Danish Ophthalmological Society on 27 September for 'significant contribution to the dissemination and advancement of cataract surgery in the developing world'. In the past 40 years, Pant has done over 200,000 eye surgeries in Nepal, Burma, and around the world. He possibly holds the record for most eye surgeries: 312 in one day and 16,005 in one year. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/myopia">MYOPIA</a>, Yugeshwor Koirala Pant shuns publicity, and agreed to this interview after repeated requests. His is an extraordinary journey of determination, perseverance -- and vision. The cheapest and fastest way to become a doctor those days was to go to Russia. Pant left his wife with three children at home and went to Russia in 1992 and graduated in 1999 from Rostov-on-Don, specialising in eye surgery. He was then invited by his surgeon colleague from Geta, Dag Riise, to Hamar in Norway to get further training in ocular operations. The conflict was raging in Nepal, and Riise offered Pant a job in Hamar, but he refused. Pant did not just return to Nepal, but came back to Dhangadi to rejoin Geta.&nbsp; Riise regarded Pant as his “Nepali son” and the family invited him for his funeral in 2013 after he drowned at age 81 during a skiing accident. Back in Nepal, Pant devoted his life to expanding Geta, which offered free surgeries to patients from Nepal and India.&nbsp; Bidya Pant was trained as his surgical assistant by Albert Kolstad who founded Geta Eye Hospital in 1982 as a WHO and Norwegian government project. Kolstad’s wife Sissel Halden remembers Pant as a “gifted young man”. She adds: “My husband noticed his potential immediately. Bidya was smart, a fast learner and he started doing cataract surgery under supervision. His work as a surgeon was outstanding.” Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/dhanvantari-miracle-men-sanduk-ruit-cataract-surgery,751"> The miracle men</a>, Buddha Basnyat  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240905100948_59cd6d0dbb32d14d337909ac270880f223547bc7a112271a2a4e4c1cd1fc4cb2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240905100948_59cd6d0dbb32d14d337909ac270880f223547bc7a112271a2a4e4c1cd1fc4cb2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Bidya Prasad Pant eye surgeon NT 2"> <figcaption>Bidya Prasad Pant has performed over 200,000 ocular surgeries in the last 40 years, including in Burma, Ethiopia, Nepal and with Orbis Flying Eye Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  When an Indian diplomat visiting Dhangadi noticed that 85% of the patients at Geta were from India, the embassy helped build an annexe to the hospital. More surgeons were trained, and at one point the hospital was performing 45,000 surgeries a year. <a href="https://helpmesee.org/meet-dr-bidya-pant-from-nepal/">Pant worked with HelpMeSee </a>to perform free surgeries in Nepal, and also on board<a href="https://www.orbis.org/en/news/2020/10-facts-flying-eye-hospital"> DC-10s of Orbis</a>, the flying eye hospital hopping to airports all over Africa, Asia and Latin America.&nbsp; Since 2014, Pant has been doing free eye surgeries for<a href="https://dak.org.au/"> Australia's DAK Foundation</a> in developing countries, and he and his team have performed 300,000 operations just in Burma. &nbsp; The need is still great because of the backlog of ageing patients, and greater ultraviolet solar radiation risk at higher altitudes due to the thinning of the stratospheric ozone layer. Cataract is the cause of more than half the blindness worldwide, and this will increase by 70% in the next 25 years.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/sanduk-%C2%ADruit-%C2%ADtil-ganga,2574">New vision for Nepal</a>, Stéphane Huët One of the neediest places is the Burmese hinterland near Mandalay where Pant leads a team of surgeons at Tipitaka Chalupala Eye Hospital and Monastery. “When I first went to Yangon in 2013 there were people waiting up to six months in queue for eye surgery,” recalls Pant. Burmese Nepalis were excited a doctor from Nepal was doing the operations. When his father died last year in Dhangadi, Pant’s Burmese patients collected more than $4,500 as donation, which he promptly handed over to the monastery.&nbsp; Pant was not just operating, but also helping Burmese surgeons to be trained at Kathmandu’s <a href="https://tilganga.org/">Tilganga </a>and other hospitals.&nbsp; For his work in Burma, Pant was recognised by the British Medical Journal with the Surgical Team of the Year award, and the International Association of Preventive Blindness (IAPB) Eye Health Hero Award in 2017. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-far-sighted-eye-care">Nepal's far-sighted eye care</a>, Sonia Awale

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Nepali surgeon with a vision for the world

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a290b9c7e80680e0458a4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1128"/><figcaption>Nepal's world renowned eye doctor Sanduk Ruit with his patient at Tilganga Institute. Photo: GOPEN RAI</figcaption></figure>Despite a decade long conflict, the absence of local government for 20 years, instability and bad governance, Nepal has taken dramatic strides in improving the health of its citizens. And it is in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6416#.XH43n8AzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">eye care</a> that the achievement has been most impressive.Thirty years ago, the Nepal Blindness Survey showed that 0.8% of the population was blind. Nepal’s population then was 15 million, which means 118,000 people were blind. Cataracts was the cause in 72% of the cases, and trachoma, a bacterial infection of the eye, was the second leading cause of blindness. Poor eye-sight and blindness due to Vitamin A were also prevalent. Most of these were preventable or curable. Women were found to be 1.35 times more likely to get cataracts because of the detailed  nature of their work, and injuries stemming from household work and farming.Today, the prevalence of blindness has decreased to 0.3% out of a population of 29 million, which means only 87,000 are visually impaired. But most of them are blind still because of cataracts. Last year Nepal became the first country in South Asia to eliminate trachoma. Cataracts and other preventable cases can now be treated much earlier with modern surgery.“The quality of community cataract surgery here is one of the best among developing countries and people are coming forward for treatment because they trust us,” said <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times%20Buzz/sanduk%C2%ADruit%C2%ADtilganga,2574" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sanduk Ruit</a>, Nepal’s world-renowned eye doctor who pioneered small incision cataract surgery. (See below)But modern lifestyles and changing <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/we-are-what-we-eat-aruna-uprety,1022" target="_blank" rel="noopener">dietary habits</a> have brought new dangers: diabetic retinopathy is on the rise, so is glaucoma. An ageing population also means cataract is still common, as is macular degeneration among elderly Nepalis.The most challenging ailment, however, is visual impairment due to refractive error which is increasing alarmingly among children, and at a much higher rate in urban areas. A 2008 study found that one in five school-going children in Kathmandu were short sighted and need to wear glasses. In remote rural areas, many do not even know they need spectacles or cannot afford them.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a290f9c7e80680e0458a5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1265" height="717">Ruit’s team at <a href="https://tilganga.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tilganga</a> and the group <a href="http://www.nnjs.org.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal Netra Jyoti Sangh</a> are now trying to test and treat the eye-sight of school children district-by-district. Free spectacles are provided, and complicated cases are referred to hospitals.“Our goal is to reach all school-going children in Nepal within five years,” said Sailesh Mishra of Netra Jyoti. “This needs regular monitoring and follow-up if children are using glasses or not, and we need to educate people about eye diseases.”While there has not been a study in Nepal to directly link the increased incidence of visual impairment with the use of mobile phones, computers and reading, research in other countries have shown a correlation.Nepali eye specialists and institutions have not just addressed blindness in Nepal, but have been world leaders in innovative interventions. Sanduk Ruit’s Tilganga Institute of Ophthalmology has been exporting intraocular lens for cataract surgery at $5 apiece since 1995. Elsewhere in the world it costs $200. Tilganga is now equipped to also perform retinal transplant.Eye hospitals in Lahan, Hetauda and Kathmandu now treat not just patients from Nepal, but also provide affordable cataract and other eye operations for patients from India, and even Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19839#.XH4vDSIzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Two Decades of Vision</a>, Skye MacparlandTilganga has is an international centre of excellence for ophthalmology training, and its surgeons have been conducting camps in Bhutan, Mongolia, North Korea, Ethiopia and Kenya. Much of this is credited to non-government initiatives by the likes of Sanduk Ruit and pioneer activist Ram Prasad Pokhrel.“One of our most important achievements was to provide eye care outside the government, creating high quality community hospitals at the grassroots that run on the social entrepreneurship model with highly motivated professional staff,” explained Ruit, whose community eye centres and hospitals are autonomous and self-sustaining.But with its Vision 2020 goal to eliminate avoidable blindness now only a year away, Nepal needs to develop more specialists and infrastructure. Some experts say the non-profits have done all they can, it is now time for the government to step in for the last push.“Nepal is far ahead of others in the region in term of eye care, we have reduced blindness, have sound modern surgical technology that has been recognised internationally,” said Hukum Pokhrel of Netra Jyoti. “It is now time the government included eye care into a more equitable health package that is sustainable into the future.”<h2>The Visionary Sanduk Ruit</h2><h2>New biography of the Nepali eye surgeon who overcame</h2>all odds to give the gift of sight to the world<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29119c7e80680e0458a6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It was on the death bed of his young sister that <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12282#.XH448cAzaUl" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sanduk Ruit</a> vowed to grow up to be a doctor so others like her did not have to die needlessly. Later, at a surgical camp he found his true calling after observing the magic of restored eyesight.There were many such instances that turned this boy from a family of salt traders in Olanchungola on the Tibet border into a world-renowned surgeon. Reading Ruit’s new biography, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Barefoot-Surgeon-inspirational-Sanduk-surgeon-ebook/dp/B07BLJYZJ1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Barefoot Surgeon</a>, we find that it was sheer determination, hard work and perseverance that helped him overcome many obstacles on the way to rising from a remote village in Nepal to become an internationally acclaimed doctor.“I want this book to create awareness about how we alleviated blindness in Nepal, and how this experience can be fine-tuned and replicated in other parts of the world,” Ruit said in an interview, ahead of the launch of the soon to be released book.Australian journalist Ali Gripper recounts how his mother named Sanduk (sky dragon), and the family was so poor Ruit lost siblings to preventable infections like diarrhoea and tuberculosis. At boarding school in Darjeeling the young Ruit was bullied mercilessly, he spent hours with lab animals as a diligent student pulling all-nighters at King George’s Medical University in Lucknow, then operated on rhesus eyes in ophthalmology class at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences in New Delhi.Much of the book describes Ruit’s years as a junior eye surgeon trying to shake up the government health system in Nepal to introduce <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3804#.XGI_jtIza71">intraocular cataract surgery</a>. He is rebuffed by seniors who see his motivation as a threat. Gripper follows Ruit’s transformation into a young man with a vision to rid the world of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6416#.XGI_adIza70">avoidable blindness</a>.Along the way, Ruit is mentored by famous Australian eye surgeon <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19839#.XGI_O9Iza70">Fred Hollows</a>, and much later American climber-surgeon Geoffrey Tabin becomes a protégé. Both individuals play a significant part in expanding Ruit’s transformative work, and leave a profound impact on the doctor.<iframe src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/585215052&amp;color=%23ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_comments=true&amp;show_user=true&amp;show_reposts=false&amp;show_teaser=true&amp;visual=true" width="100%" height="300" frameborder="no" scrolling="no"></iframe>Ruit is known for pioneering the technique of small incision low-cost cataract surgery which he has used to restore the sight of more than 120,000 people so far in Nepal, China, North Korea, Ethiopia and other countries. He has won many accolades including the Ramon Magsaysay Award in 2006, and last year one of India’s highest civilian honours, the Padma Shri.As he interacts with patients in Kathmandu, he shows extraordinary kindness and humility for a doctor so famous. Ruit tells Gripper that he learned early in his career that giving back eyesight to people meant giving them back their life. Ruit’s life is not without personal tragedies, and the book is full of heartfelt moments. But it is as much about progress in eye care in Nepal as it is about Ruit himself.“Curing blindness is Nepal’s great success story,” said Ruit, who established the Tilganga Institute of Opthalmology in Kathmandu in 1994. At that time the prevalence of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Seeing-is-believing,2577">blindness in Nepal</a> was 0.8%, with cataract the major cause. Today, blindness is down to 0.3%, despite the population having doubled, and Ruit is operating much earlier with improved surgery on contracts.The world-class eye centre is also a training ground for young surgeons from around the world. Tilganga runs on the social entrepreneurship model with a sliding scale payment system where those who can afford treatment pay more than the less privileged.“Instead of investing time and money on mega projects, we should focus on developing small, self-sustaining grassroot independent community hospitals with qualified staff, and that is the most important thing we have achieved in eye care in Nepal,” said Ruit, who has opened eye centres in all 77 districts,  with community eye hospitals based on the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17323#.XGI-U9Iza71">Tilgaganga model</a> in Hetauda, Biratnagar, Dhangadi, Nepalganj and Lumbini.The Barefoot Surgeon is being translated into Nepali by FinePrint, but it is not the first book about Ruit. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Second-Suns-Trailblazing-Doctors-Blindness/dp/1615193626" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Second Suns</a> by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/helping-the-poor-to-see,2575">David Oliver Relin</a>, who also wrote <a href="https://books.google.com.np/books/about/Three_Cups_of_Tea.html?id=HbezCyqr3q0C&amp;redir_esc=y">Three Cups of Tea</a>, was about Ruit and Tabin’s quest to restore sight to the world’s poorest. But following an allegation of plagiarism in an earlier work, Relin committed <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/03/business/media/david-oliver-relin-co-author-of-three-cups-of-tea-dies-at-49.html?_r=0">suicide</a> in 2013 right after handing over the manuscript of the Second Suns.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/helping-the-poor-to-see,2575" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Helping the poor to see</a>, Kunda DixitFor the new book, Gripper followed Ruit’s surgery team for more than three years in India, Bhutan and Burma. In Nepal she joined Ruit’s eye camps in Trisuli, Mustang, Hetauda and Solu Khumbu to see people seeing again. She noticed that Ruit preferred to work barefoot ‘allowing him complete control of the pedal under the table that pulls focus on his microscope’.The book recounts Ruit’s vision for Tilganga, the rapport he shares with Bhutan’s Queen grandmother, the eye camp in North Korea where minders followed their every move, his meeting with the Dalai Lama, the challenges in manufacturing low-cost intraocular lens in Kathmandu, and a treacherous journey to Mustang for a field camp.There will be tears of joy and of sadness, there will be elation and wonder as you turn the pages of The Barefoot Surgeon. This is a moving portrayal of a great Nepali whose work has transcended borders to transform many, many lives.Sonia AwaleThe Barefoot Surgeon: Inspirational story of Dr Sanduk Ruit, the eye surgeon giving sight and hope to the world's poorBy Ali GripperAllen &amp; Unwin, 2018305 pagesAUD $32.99<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29149c7e80680e0458a7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="2294"><h2>Ozone and Eyes</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29179c7e80680e0458a8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="484" height="460"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The ozone layer in the outer atmosphere filters out harmful ultra-violet rays of the sun from reaching the Earth’s surface. There has been a steady <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2243#.XH44ecAzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">depletion</a> of this, especially over the Southern Hemisphere, due to chemicals called CFCs used as a refrigerants. This has caused a rise in the incidence of skin cancer, but also of eye disorders. People living southern Argentina, Australia and New Zealand have been known to suffer more cataracts because of the solar UV-B radiation.A <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1298891/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">2005 study</a> carried out by the American Journal of Epidemiology found out that  ozone depletion would result in a 20% rise in the number of cataract cases by 2050. Ultraviolet rays is also responsible for the onset of cataract at an earlier age. Not just people in the southern hemisphere, but those living in high altitude areas like the Tibetan Plateau and Nepal also become more susceptible to cataracts due to ozone thinning.Apart from cataract, UV radiation can also cause photokeratitis (inflammation of the cornea), eye cancer, conjunctivitis, pterygium, conjuctivitis, acute solar retinopathy, and degeneration of the macula. Long term exposure to the harmful rays can cause permanent damage to cornea, lens and retina.As a result of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/bringing-kyoto-and-montreal-together,1405" target="_blank" rel="noopener">1985 Montreal Protocol</a> to phase out CFCs,  the ozone hole over Antarctica has started to shrink, but exposure to UV B radiation will be seen till the end of the century. HFCs  that replaced CFCs in refrigerators and air conditioners are very potent greenhouse gases that contribute to the global warming.Doctors say, minimising the time spent outdoors especially in the southern hemisphere and at high altitude is a useful precaution.

Sonia Awale

Nepal's far-sighted eye care

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

Saving the Kusunda language from extinction

A lot of the most critical healthcare software used in the United States, from insurance, medical records, &nbsp;analytics, billings to general operations are made in Nepal.
Coding is outsourced to IT companies in Nepal because it is cheap, and there is a large pool of coders with 15,000 graduates entering the job market every year.&nbsp;
Churn is low, and programming remains a desirable career, with people able to work remotely for high pay with little investment, often even without a degree.
Indeed, building US healthcare software holds up the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-to-be-more-intelligent-about-ai">growing Nepali IT industry</a> which last year exported software worth $900 million, nearly as much as Nepal earns from tourism every year.
IT exports have a long history, starting from when Rudra Pandey co-founded D2Hawkeye, which pioneered healthcare analytics. The company is now Verisk Health. &nbsp;
There are over 15 technology companies that specialise in medical software, operating mostly as subsidiaries of US companies, but some are also ‘vendors’ that are completely Nepali-owned.
One such company is <a href="https://techkraftinc.com">TechKraft</a>, which builds software for clients across the world in healthcare, but also in finance. Its Executive Director Santosh Koirala says: “A big advantage Nepal has in making US healthcare software is simply how long it has been involved in it. This has created many domain experts, and new programmers here are technically excellent as well.”&nbsp;
The trust and skills that companies and individuals have built up is also how TechKraft gets clients, referrals and business, and they have to strictly ensure data security and privacy protection.
“This is personal information about people’s insurance, their visits to the hospital, their diseases. Any breaches could lead to expensive lawsuits,” says Koirala.&nbsp;
While it is much easier for subsidiary companies to keep data within their systems, vendors must put in place multiple layers of physical and cybersecurity to convince clients to work with them. They must work in what is called a ‘cleanroom’: a controlled environment where teams can work on sensitive data without compromising security or privacy.&nbsp;
Laptops and even pen and paper cannot leave the workplace, and all employees must pass training in globally recognised information security standards.
AI is transforming processing of healthcare data, and companies like TechKraft have integrated it in everything they do. Agentic AI is designed for a high level of autonomy, and can handle booking, rescheduling, and reminders for patient visits, detect anomalies in medical imagery, analyse patient data to create custom treatment plans, predict outcomes, even catch medical fraud.&nbsp;
AI also helps programmers at TechKraft write better code, faster. “AI has had a huge impact on our workflow, it is faster and more efficient,” says Koirala, ”but since it makes things so much easier, it may become harder to find business.”&nbsp;
It also means that a project may require only four engineers skilled with AI instead of say, ten. The remaining six are out of a job.
Another Nepali company, <a href="https://wiseyak.com">Wiseyak</a>, also works on a host of AI healthcare products. One is software that can diagnose diabetic retinopathy and pneumonia at least as well as the best doctors. Another is AI-EMR algorithms that can analyse patient data to provide insights and recommendations.&nbsp;
“We help doctors by building powerful tools, and not replace them.” says co-founder and CEO of Wiseyak Suresh Manandhar, who has been studying and working with AI for 40 years, long before it became a part of everyday life.&nbsp;
Wiseyak now wants to make software that can be used in Nepal’s hospitals to diagnose various diseases. For retinopathy, an AI is trained on publicly available datasets of retinal scans.&nbsp;
The model can then learn to detect a range of symptoms such as microaneurysms in the eye, ‘cotton wool’, and macular degeneration. It can then make a diagnosis based on the quantity and size of the anomalies it detects.&nbsp;
“AI can be fine tuned by feeding it retinal scans of Nepalis,” says Manandhar who admits to difficulties because medical records in Nepal are still paper-based and not digital, and few hospitals want to retool. “The government should &nbsp;invest and build momentum to adopt these technologies.”&nbsp;
Santosh Koirala of TechKraft is also president of Nepal Association for Software and IT Services Companies (NAS-IT), a group that focuses on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/self-learning-comes-before-machine-learning">policy and advocacy with the government</a>. He is optimistic about gradual progress in lobbying efforts.&nbsp;
“The government is slowly getting it,” he told us. “Removing limits to Foreign Direct Investment and allowing Nepali companies to have offices abroad are big steps in the right direction.”&nbsp;
NAS-IT also advises universities on the development of courses to keep students up to date with the latest developments in AI, as well as pushing for data insurance to make clients less reluctant to work with Nepali companies.
Both Koirala and Manandhar are optimistic about the general direction Nepal’s IT sector is going in, and can build on.
&nbsp;“There is a lot of potential which is being recognised quite quickly,” says Koirala. “We know the technology now, and we know how things are done at a global level. The next step is for Nepal to start making products that can be used widely across the world.”&nbsp;
IT products for application within Nepal are now designed in Nepal itself, and software companies such as eSewa were ahead of their time in the region.
Manandhar is also bullish: “There is no limit to how helpful AI can be for Nepal. Trained, super-specialised doctors are scarce, so AI can be a substitute and make them three, four times more efficient.” &nbsp;&nbsp;

intraocular-lens

Nepali surgeon with a vision for the world

Nepal's far-sighted eye care

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

Water for Life

Saving the Kusunda language from extinction

AI widens scope for IT exports