Water is life. Nowhere is that adage as relevant as in a village along the Tila River in this valley in far western Nepal. Fed by glaciers higher up, the river flows strong all year round. But just a few metres above its banks, terraced farms are high and dry and crops depend on the annual monsoon. Farmers here have a traditional irrigation system that channels river water through wooden conduits carved out of tree trunks along the contour of the mountains to water their fields. But many of these wooden canals have fallen into disrepair, most of the water leaks out destabilising slopes, destroying homes and little water reaching the fields.&nbsp; The village of Ghodesim is located on a steep slope below one of these water canals, and its 86 households are at risk of landslides because of the leaky irrigation canals. Instead of relocating the village to a safer place, the municipality has replaced the wooden conduits with a more permanent cement canal: providing year-round water to the fields, generating electricity, and reducing the drudgery for women here. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tara-pariyar-s-karnali">Tara Pariyar’s Karnali</a>, Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061609060_05c52c8f87d7bdb8f14b2e4f7625c37601032efc041c6b4ec72421bb56c1f50d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023061609060_05c52c8f87d7bdb8f14b2e4f7625c37601032efc041c6b4ec72421bb56c1f50d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="576" loading="lazy" alt="10-11 NT "> </figure>  “Now everyone has as much water as they need. People have started to plant not just paddy but also vegetables,” says Lakshi Rokaya, a farmer in Ghodesim. Jumla and the adjoining Sinja valley in Nepal’s remote northwestern mountains has the highest-grown rice in the world, a red starchy variety that is extra nutritious. Lakshmi Rokaya had stopped planting wheat and barley because the village’s traditional irrigation canal had gone dry. Now, she points proudly at her terraces ripe with wheat and barley swaying in the afternoon breeze. “For so long, these terraces were barren and dry, just look at them now, they are ready for harvest,” Rokaya says. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/women-and-water">Women and water</a>, Sonia Awale <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FYSHI0eGNRt4&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> Plentiful water has given the 30-year-old the confidence to plant vegetable cash crops on a larger scale from next year, so she can sell the surplus in the market. The adjoining district of Kalikot in Karnali Province, &nbsp;Shubhakalika Rural Municipality has also built a 658m long irrigation canal that also generates 35KW of electricity, providing households here with power for the first time. “Our whole world now looks brighter,” beams 50-year-old Jokala Shahi of Howdi Gad village in Kalikot. Until two years ago, she had never before seen an electric bulb, and she says the light has made life much easier.&nbsp; The irrigation project was built with Rs2 million from the local government and Rs2.3 million from the UN’s World Food Programme (WFP) and shows how much can be achieved with a relatively small investment just by providing water.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lifting-livelihoods-by-lifting-water">Lifting livelihoods by lifting water</a>, Sabina Devkota  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061609060_9d901ab27b4aabe346736152826685c66090474880af49213e0d3c55d0ce8e34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023061609060_9d901ab27b4aabe346736152826685c66090474880af49213e0d3c55d0ce8e34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="10-11 NT "> </figure>  Batti Chaulagain, 50, of Shubhakalika used to wait for spring rain to plant corn, and monsoons for paddy. Rest of the year, her terraces were empty. Now, even her narrow terraces now grow enough rice to feed her family of four so that her husband no longer has to migrate to India for seasonal work. Every family in this village in Kalikot has the same story, and indeed the gift of water was all it took for many households across Karnali Province to grow enough food, reduce drudgery and empower its women. Chaulagain tells a visiting reporter: “Now, we are not limited to just one crop of paddy a year. I am already thinking of planting seasonal vegetables.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/nepali-women-doubly-burdened-by-climate-change">Nepali women doubly burdened by climate change</a>, Sewa Bhattarai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061609060_001ecb4df47ad0f86c7ad5a14d4d9fe64a89a5f9134a01ce67a63e107150cf4e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023061609060_001ecb4df47ad0f86c7ad5a14d4d9fe64a89a5f9134a01ce67a63e107150cf4e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="10-11 NT "> <figcaption>Photo: KRISHNA NEUPANE</figcaption> </figure>  Chaulagain’s neighbour Primkala Acharya also used to grow only one crop a year, and it was not enough to feed her family. She says, “We no longer leave our terraces fallow since we have irrigation throughout the year. We plan to grow as much as possible and sell it in the market.” Farmers here used to plant potatoes only in the rainy season when they would have enough water. This year, they were done by early May and are now going to invest in apple orchards.&nbsp; The irrigation canals do not reach all farms, and villagers are now asking for the same facility from their local governments. If there is water, they say they can grow chillies, cucumber, tomato and onion, sell the surplus so they can afford better healthcare and education for children. One of the other visible changes the visitors see in this part of the country is women in construction. Of the 1,600 residents in Shubkalika of Kalikot, 800 are men, half of whom are working in India. Women are therefore seen in the farms, in the households, and even earning income building roads, irrigation canals and bridges. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-of-the-mountains">Women of the mountains</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061609060_aed63bb9eb60e02c96459bfcbdf651a5aa251fea4004fcd2dfa816b70afbcd51.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2023061609060_aed63bb9eb60e02c96459bfcbdf651a5aa251fea4004fcd2dfa816b70afbcd51" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="10-11 NT "> </figure>  Many of the irrigation canal construction in Jumla and Kalikot were also led by women. In Jumla’s Ghodesim, the irrigation canal was built by 50 women and 35 men in two months. Seventy villagers, more than half of them women, built the Howdigad irrigation scheme in Kalikot. &nbsp;Women are also the chair and secretaries of irrigation management committees. Rupa Rokaya, 36, of Shubhakalika is among the women who have taken up the construction job. The 0.2 hectares of land is enough to feed the family for only four months. Her father-in-law, husband and son, all went to India in January but are yet to send her any money. In the meantime, she has been taking care of her three young children and mother-in-law with her own earnings.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/water-for-the-ages">Water for the ages</a>, Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230616080640_fcb9f71c85639f633da8c73d31236b676368110dd3ce923e135d843e0c142400.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20230616080640_fcb9f71c85639f633da8c73d31236b676368110dd3ce923e135d843e0c142400" data-rendition-name="original" width="9504" height="6336" loading="lazy" alt="Access to water changes the face of rural Nepal NT"> </figure>  “I earned Rs18,000 a month working on the irrigation project. This money means we can eat rice and dal for a few months,” she says. Gorikala Budha, vice chair of Tila Rural Municipality in Jumla says the irrigation projects are ideal because they generate employment during construction and then provide downstream benefits when finished.&nbsp; “The projects also give confidence and independence for our women,” she says. “Some of them probably for the first time are able to buy what they want for a change, not just what they need. In Kalikot, Jokala Shahi earned Rs30,000 after 40 days of construction work and is delighted that she will buy her food for three months. She has also experienced that having an income increases confidence as well as respect for women in their families and communities. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/solution-to-kathmandu-s-water-crisis">Solution to Kathmandu’s water crisis</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061609060_b1414d06003f68562ac76b5b215ba56df75397fd5fd8ecc0f5f4a6c4bdf8abd2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2023061609060_b1414d06003f68562ac76b5b215ba56df75397fd5fd8ecc0f5f4a6c4bdf8abd2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="10-11 NT "> </figure>  She says: “Earlier, we women used to cover our faces, sit in a corner, and did not even dare look at the men. Now we speak up, we do things that only men used to do in the past.” This was always not the case. Before, women were not considered good enough to do construction work, especially the harder bits. But with the men away women have got the opportunity to prove they are strong as the men. In time, the past disparity in wages has also started to disappear with the increasing ability of women in construction. “Our husbands used to get more wages in the past, now the daily wages are the same,” adds Jokala Shahi. Jumla and Kalikot are proof of how modest investment in irrigation, honestly implemented, can make the once chronically food deficit region self-sufficient by giving women more say.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-climate-crisis-is-a-water-crisis-in-the-himalaya">The climate crisis is a water crisis in the Himalaya</a>, Sonia Awale

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Access to water changes the face of rural Nepal

Nepal has notched notable successes in conserving nature: five years of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/01/29/1000-days-of-the-rhino/" target="_blank">zero poaching of rhinos</a> and tigers in national parks, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-many-tigers-in-nepal/" target="_blank">doubling of the wild tiger population</a> in 10 years and protection of plant species. However, roads, irrigation canals, transmission lines and even railways are now threatening to undermine these achievements. Conservationists say that balancing the need for economic growth with ecological protection will be even more challenging than combating poaching. As the country marks National Wildlife Week from 14-20 April, Nepal’s planners need to find ways to build new infrastructure without irreversibly harming the country's biodiversity. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=24334&amp;preview=true" target="_blank">Protecting the last home of the Spiny Babbler</a>, Carol Inskipp and Rupendra Karmacharya <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111152/636a35359c7e80680e048299jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"></div> Now that Nepal has domestic poaching under control, it needs to focus on controlling the transit of wildlife smuggling. Nepal is a hub for trafficking of tiger, rhino and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/protecting-pangolins-from-being-eaten-to-extinction/" target="_blank">pangolin parts</a> from India and Africa. Even live chimpanzees and birds have been found at Kathmandu airport. Nepal is now a victim of its own success in conservation. With poaching controlled, protected areas are now getting overcrowded with wildlife, leading to the threat of disease and an increase in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/more-rhinos-means-more-encounter,4045" target="_blank">human-animal conflict</a>. Read also:&nbsp; <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/habitat-destrcution-of-tiger-in-Tarai,3423" target="_blank">Allow tigers to roam more freely</a>, Om Astha Rai <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/its-a-jungle-out-there/" target="_blank">It's a jungle out there</a>, Kunda Dixit <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/more-rhinos-means-more-encounter,4045" target="_blank">More rhinos means more encounters</a>, Alex Dudley <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111152/636a35389c7e80680e04829ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1083"></div> <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111152/636a35359c7e80680e048299jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"></div> In addition, climate change is leading to weather extremes that have aggravated the problems of water scarcity, flash floods and prey decline. Even though rhinos are no longer poached, for example, there has been a sharp increase in fatalities, with 41 dead in the last 9 months alone in Chitwan. Besides old age, most have died of disease, fights with other rhinos, or poisoning. Last month, a rhino died in Sauraha after falling into the septic tank of a hotel. There has also been an increase in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-humans-can-live-with-wild-elephants/" target="_blank">wild elephants</a> and tigers entering human settlements in search of food due to habitat encroachment in their migration corridors. Last year, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/deep-water,3883" target="_blank">flash floods in Chitwan</a> washed away rhinos: 12 of them had to be rescued and brought back from India. However, the biggest threat to Nepal’s wildlife in the post-poaching era is new infrastructure crisscrossing nature reserves. Major transmission lines have been built or are planned through national parks, the new postal highway slices through nature reserves, new irrigation canals such as Babai, Sikta and Ranijamara have bifurcated areas frequented by wildlife, and the new East-West railroad running parallel to the E-W Highway will fragment many national parks. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111152/636a35389c7e80680e04829ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1083"></div> Nature reserves and national parks make up one-fourth of Nepal’s area. With infrastructure building spree currently underway, experts say the country will soon lose 200,000 hectares of forests. This will result in rampant habitat destruction, and increase in road kills and deaths of animal that fall into irrigation canals, which account for the highest number of wildlife fatalities. New roads have also brought haphazard urbanisation and pollution: a growing number of ungulates and carnivores have been found to have died after ingesting plastic or chemicals. One of the biggest sources of habitat destruction will be the much talked about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/does-nepal-need-a-4th-international-airport/" target="_blank">Nijgad airport near Parsa National Park</a>, which will decimate one of the last remaining hardwood forests in the eastern Tarai, removing a major migratory corridor for wild elephants. “The government has always prioritised infrastructure, which while essential for development, is a major threat to conservation,” says Bishnu Prasad Shrestha of the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation (DNPWC). “Our preoccupation therefore is with mitigation measures on the existing roads and finding out ways to make new infrastructure safer for wildlife. If we do not act now, it will be too late. Our tourism industry and economy depend on our conservation efforts.” <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111152/636a353b9c7e80680e04829bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="1200">The Sikta Irrigation Canal has several overpasses for wild animals</div> DNPWC and WWF Nepal organised a regional workshop this month in Kathmandu to find ways to promote sustainable green infrastructure. Some of the key recommendations include the study of wildlife movement before mapping the alignment of linear infrastructure, like roads, railways, canals and transmission lines. The good news is that planners at the Department of Roads think the country does not need too many more roads, the existing strategic highways and feeder roads need to be upgraded. There have been initiatives like installing CCTV cameras to monitor vehicles, enforcing time cards on highways that traverse national parks, as well as building over and under-passes so wildlife can cross highways, irrigation canals or train tracks. DNPWC is now planning five canopy bridges for arboreal species in Banke, and contractors have agreed to build new underpasses while widening the Daune-Narayangad section of the East-West Highway. The route for the proposed <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/planned-new-east-west-railroad-and-expressway-threaten-the-Chitwan-National-Park,1079" target="_blank">E-W Electric Railway</a> that would have cut through Chitwan National Park has been changed after protests from activists. But these isolated cases will not be sufficient to minimise the nationwide threat to nature reserves from infrastructure in the long run. Experts say wildlife friendly infrastructure based on biodiversity assessment and species movement is a must. Nabin Gopal Baidhya of the non-government Wildlife Conservation Nepal thinks there may be too much emphasis on the impact of roads on national parks. He says: “We have to go beyond the protected areas and study the condition of forests outside parks. How can villages and community forests work with road contractors to protect trees? Ultimately we have to find a way for humans and nature to safely co-exist.”

Sonia Awale

In conservation, Nepal is not out of the woods yet

We often see ourselves reflected in the other. For someone who grew up in Kathmandu Valley in the eighties and nineties, this maxim comes alive with an even greater force. Nepal’s media ecosystem was dismal, the school curriculum was narrow and did not provide opportunities for creative expression. Perhaps that is why I became obsessed with MTV videos and Bollywood films. I saw my developing self reflected in these story-lines and razzmatazz. When the media and education system do not engage the public and reflect myriad interests, aspirations and lifestyles of the population, citizens get detached and disconnected from their roots. I left for America for further studies, and was somewhat determined to never return to Nepal. It was a country full of potholes and black-outs. But foreigners have been fascinated with our country for decades. In the early 19th century, Francis Buchanan-Hamilton led a pioneering expedition and documented more than a thousand species of plants native to the region. Almost a century later, in 1905, Frenchman Sylvan Levi published ‘the first attempt to produce a comprehensive study of Nepal’, drawing on not just indigenous but available Chinese and European sources as well. After Nepal opened up in the 1950s, different kinds of foreigners have traveled here -- most notably, cold-war era spies disguised as diplomats, and later came the hippies. I returned to Nepal in 2013 and was primarily struck by two major demographics - the artists and the expats. Energised by the recent revolution, the creatives were making vibrant, powerful works. The expats, on the other hand, demonstrated a different way to navigate life in Kathmandu Valley. These two groups of people re-introduced Nepal to me and I began seeing my country and my hometown with a renewed perspective. Which is why one particular image from Giovanna Caruso’s ongoing show at the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank">Kalā</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank"> Salon</a> curated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/facades-and-flowers-from-nepal-to-italy" target="_blank">Sophia L Pandé</a> instantly caught my attention -- rather, it called out to me, as if it was composed for me, framing a key moment from my own life. Its title is, coincidentally, 2013. Like most of her other works, the pen-and-ink drawing is punctuated by an explosion of watercolour: a woman standing confidently in front of a Newa-style house, a leg arched up, as if she is fixing a strap around an ankle before stepping out on an adventure. The watercolour depicts a rainbow streaming out of a pot through a second-floor window. The rest of the details are rendered in realism – clusters of garlic and onion hanging to dry from the rafters, and further down a stack of corn. There are towels drying, even an old water pump.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="art review Kala Salon"> </figure>  When I walked over to this artwork with Caruso, she chuckled, “Ah, this work is a celebration of my 30 years in Nepal.” It was while trying to calm a restless group of students during her teaching days in Italy that Caruso first came across an iconic image of Kathmandu Darbar Square. She had found an old box of slides and while projecting images from the Himalaya to engage her students, the artist was determined to travel to Nepal. The first flat she rented was close to the square and the view from her rooftop was the same as the one she had encountered inside her classroom. She has been traveling to Nepal every year since. Some of her favourite drawings depict Khokana in morning fog. From 1993-2006, she drew murals at Ram Mandir and Pashupatinath, asking sadhus to guide her and correct her depictions. Caruso received a classical education, which means she was trained to focus on perspective and geometry while capturing mainly portraits and still lives. She is influenced by M C Escher and his explorations of mathematics and symmetry. No wonder she finds the Darbar Square architecture so compelling. She also names as inspiration Gustave Dore, whose style is different from Escher’s and I can see how she has fused these influences in her body of work: Escher’s austerity complimented and slightly dislodged by Dore’s comics and caricatures. “Before starting, the painting needs to be complete in my mind,” she explains as we pass a series of portraits titled Saraswati, Lakshmi, Kali Dancing, and Durga dominated by a roaring tiger. “These are all real people, I ask my friends and family members to sit for me.” The Kali in the drawing has the artist’s fiery copper red hair and she is dancing, surrounded by various men with flowing hair. The artist seems to have experimented here, drawing the revelers from above, and indulging in playful abandon. Depictions of Nepal are often in danger of being exoticised. But Caruso is familiar with her subjects, knows our alleys and temples intimately. Her colours and compositions are passionate and dense. In an essay, Anirudh S Chari writes the artist’s work is splashed with rapturous energy and most drawings have a carnivalesque element. ‘Kali Dancing’ illustrates this idea perfectly in that she has turned Kali’s usual fearsome portrayal on its head by depicting and embracing another feminine principle - the capacity to celebrate and create joy. Apart from drawing inspiration from Hindu goddesses and Nepal’s multi-colored rituals, Caruso has also drawn the Sumerian Ianna and Lillith and the Egyptian Nut. She enjoys drawing Nataraja, and says it is because “Shiva is a good husband”. We stand another painting titled 100 Days a Lion. “There is a saying in Italian, Better one day as a lion than a hundred days as a sheep, but I thought why not 100 Days a Lion?” This sentiment captures this nomadic artist’s spirit spanning four decades, in which she has captured urban energy as well as the sacred imagery of ‘life diaries on canvas’. From Venezia to Kathmandu and Journeys In Between Giovanna Caruso The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre Mall, Thamel Till 12 December 10am- 8pm

Looking at Nepal from Venice

The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

Too little snow, too much rain

It is quite a feat for just two actors on a darkened stage to hold an audience spellbound for more than one hour. Yet, ‘के? Us.’ at Kausi Theatre does just that. It is a thought-provoking but baffling work that leaves the audience questioning reality, the recurring metaphors in this intriguing and powerful dark comedy haunting us for days afterwards.&nbsp; The unsettling sound of deep breathing mingles with percussive drumming and a driving guitar that pulsates amidst a red glow, dimly illuminating shadowy structures charred by fire. A door leads to what is later revealed to be the ancestral home of two brothers which is ‘under renovation’. One of the brothers Ashim (Bijaya Tamrakar) lives in Nepal caring for a supposedly comatose mother who is only depicted by a tree draped with red LED lights that circulate arterial blood corpuscles. Visiting him is a long-lost brother Aaryan (Eelum Dixit) who has returned (deported?) from America.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The stage is littered with scattered paper trash, a run-down motorcycle chassis, a tattered sofa, and beat-up table and chairs. The stage is set for a sinister plot. Are the characters to be punished in perdition?&nbsp; It does not take long for the audience to grasp that this is an apocalyptic Nepal that, following absurdist traditions, could exist at any time in the future or the present day <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/election-vs-escalation">post-GenZ protest state</a>. Ashim and Aaryan Adhikari have reunited after 15 years. Ashim, the younger brother, has been burdened with the responsibility of taking care of their brain-dead mother. Aaryan, returns after having migrated to the US, where he married, had children, divorced, and lost everything. He has been at “minus 20 and is now back to zero”.&nbsp; The brothers have intense back-and-forths that expose their cynicism, the conversation tangentially alluding to Nepal’s unstable political landscape, migration, an economy in shambles, aging population, alcoholism and other mental health issues. Even the sibling argument about the relative merits of momos and burgers seems metaphorical. The stagecraft uses lighting and sound effects brilliantly, transporting the audience to a surreal world in which Tamrakar and Dixit improvise their lines — no two shows are exactly the same, although the overall plotline has continuity.&nbsp; In the first scene, Aaryan approaches the house tentatively, creeping rodent-like, and carrying a briefcase and an old-fashioned lantern. And at the end, Ashim screams, “I am chaos.” Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end?&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Choas play review"> </figure>  At one point Aaryan seems perturbed by the sound of protest outside (the Gen Z movement?) and the taut atmosphere grips the audience with fear, shock, and apprehension of the recent death and destruction.&nbsp; Throughout the play there is the sound of breathing, as if through a ventilator, a thumping heartbeat, the morbid buzzing of flies and the glowing red LED veins -- signifying the presence of the comatose Aama. She is featured in a prologue-esque home video at the start of the play in which she reminisces about her two sons and rues her failing memory.&nbsp; The sound of breathing gets accentuated each time a brother gets closer to the tree, and it seems to fuel Ashim’s belief that Aama may be brain-dead but she is still among them. This play can go as deep as each individual in the audience wants it to go.&nbsp; The silenced, comatose mother could be Nepali Aama muted by an entrenched patriarchy. Or, she could be the symbol of a helpless country while her children fight over the ruins of what is left. The cake cutting is a delightfully Shakespearean subplot where we wonder if one of the brothers is going to poison, or knife, the other. The message is clear: how can we move forward if it is brother against brother? The stairs signify political transition (elections, constitutional change, new coalitions) promising upward movement, but eventually lead to falls, leaving the nation exactly where it started, or worse. The mother’s terminal illness evokes an ailing state apparatus, hollowed out by corruption and deep-seated social decay. Yet the brothers cling to an irrational hope — instead of confronting the harsh truth and pursuing radical solutions, suggesting a blind faith in the mother.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The brothers are lost. Aaryan climbs up stairs that lead nowhere, Ashim holds on to unrealistic hope that somehow Aama will get better. Tamrakar and Dixit deliver powerful performances, even more remarkable for the fact that they are improvising their lines as they go along. When Aaryan breaks a wall and directly addresses the audience, spectators turn from being passive observers to active participants (‘the society’). The audience then become oglers in this drama, suddenly made self-aware of our role as the scrutinising, cavilling voyeurs that society represents. There is some discomfort of being watched and judged.&nbsp; By asking his brother what he is afraid of while pointing at the audience, Aaryan suggests that the brother's (and perhaps the character's core) fear is not just of the house, or the mother's illness, but of external judgment and societal censure. After the stage goes dark, the applause takes some time. Audience members shuffle out in silence, minds reeling from the collective soul-searching they have just participated in.&nbsp; After ‘के? Us.’ the din at Teku intersection outside sounds different as we wait for our Pathao ride below the खरी tree where <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=Shukra+Raj+Shastri&amp;client=safari&amp;sca_esv=75e8315709cd5118&amp;rls=en&amp;sxsrf=AE3TifMJhwukjdBBT0n4QcQWe8IYSaEVsw%3A1764648053799&amp;ei=dWQuaYbIMOy94-EPn4ygyAE&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiU1ciogp6RAxXq3TQHHeo9LBIQgK4QegQIARAB&amp;uact=5&amp;oq=nepal+tree+where+martyrs+were+hanged&amp;gs_lp=Egxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAiJG5lcGFsIHRyZWUgd2hlcmUgbWFydHlycyB3ZXJlIGhhbmdlZDIIECEYoAEYwwRIug5QAFiNC3AAeAGQAQCYAc4BoAHrCKoBBTAuNS4xuAEDyAEA-AEBmAIDoALlBMICBRAAGO8FmAMA4gMFEgExIECSBwUwLjEuMqAHzw-yBwUwLjEuMrgH5QTCBwcwLjIuMC4xyAcM&amp;sclient=gws-wiz-serp&amp;mstk=AUtExfCLIneLVW3SFBzxBc964wFcTJ936tcAPSDcvNKljck0PIqDJddMZ_t8Pg610M98MCx14aNdnyLHs9QM0jWLhI7JYmkPhugX1ZHfSQvdCHZE9E5m2_ZQY5Jr893UcGjQfpabtA_C48NfB9Pg56uYMOmTtEBEcGuvz3d96Qaifyb86sI8mAkrRNo_367cv_xmFjLZ55iQkfHtORuOvZSUkIdMvAdpweuf4jPjjI4anbv9lc-uCImdP0JSvtvEGL8ePxwsWWOzYpIbjNP1zofjcWXK&amp;csui=3" target="_blank">Shukra Raj Shastri</a> was hanged in 1941 by the Rana regime. Language and Literature Students, 2026.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  ‘के? Us.’ Kausi Theatre, Teku Till 7 December (except 2 December) Bookings: +977 9842156109, 9842574607

Staged chaos evokes state of Nepal

“गरि खान देउ” is a compelling collective call that resonates with most Nepalis. It reflects the suffocation of people wanting just to live and get by. In relation to foreign employment, it also means that because it is difficult to live, Nepalis leave.&nbsp;
The Nepal government should be evaluated more than on its ability to retain youth within Nepal. Its ability to ensure that those who choose to migrate have access to safe, transformative, well-managed migration pathways that provide high return opportunities without high costs and hassles.
In the context of foreign employment, “गरि खान देउ extends to “गरि जान देउ” which would mean ‘Let us leave to live’. This is particularly pertinent now because our international labour market is so shaky. Because access to Nepal’s biggest migrant destinations are in jeopardy, labour diplomacy that puts workers at the centre is now more important than ever.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/who-gets-to-recruit-for-malaysia-5ll4n3f6" target="_blank">Malaysia</a> had been closed for almost two years, and it recently issued a ten-point list for recruitment agencies that seems to favour the better endowed recruiters while displacing smaller ones that care about worker welfare and recruitment standards.
After the GenZ protests, the UAE stopped issuing visas to Nepali workers for almost two months, ostensibly because of jailbreaks and looted weapons. They have reportedly begun allowing it recently, pending attested police reports.
While the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/europe-now-favoured-destination-for-nepalis" target="_blank">preference</a> of Nepali youth may be shifting toward Europe, in terms of scale and accessibility especially for those with low education, limited English skills, or little work experience, traditional destinations in the Gulf and Malaysia are crucial and continue to make up a major share of overall migration.
Disturbances in these common destination markets can mean loss of livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of Nepalis.&nbsp;
Nepali migrant workers want to live and just get by not only in Nepal but overseas as well.
But the way many leave for work abroad can be considered ‘compromised migration’. Sub-par outcomes that migrants are often compelled to settle for due to lack of alternate choices both within Nepal and overseas. The lack of choices abroad &nbsp;is not necessarily the absence of rewarding options globally, where there are severe worker shortages and unfulfilled vacancies, but rather our inability to seize those opportunities.
The Japan Specified Skilled Worker <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-japan-jobs-deal-still-stuck" target="_blank">scheme</a>, for example, is an underutilised migrant labour pathway due to lack of procedural clarity. Although the agreement was signed in 2019, it is only from October that verification of job demands has begun. Nepalis do not need to look for a backdoor as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas" target="_blank">students</a> or trainees if they are interested to work in Japan, because Tokyo has literally opened the front door and designed a work scheme to address labor shortages. With the <a href="https://www.newsweek.com/can-japan-new-leader-afford-to-go-hard-immigration-10931515" target="_blank">new leadership</a> in Japan, there might be changes in how the intake of foreign workers is managed.
Where it has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal" target="_blank">worked</a>, like with the Employment Permit Scheme (<a href="https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/645571537423013613/pdf/130024-WP-P156586-PUBLIC-2-Korea-Brief-Singles.pdf" target="_blank">EPS</a>) for South Korea, there have been stories of transformation. There are pilot <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/helping-migrant-returnees-to-pivot-2urk8oo9" target="_blank">innovations</a> for Nepali workers in Korea, including for their reintegration back in Nepal. Would the Korea EPS have worked as well had Seoul not held its presence in Nepal to manage this scheme via the Human Resources Development Service of Korea?
When <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/i-felt-like-i-was-born-to-be-a-nurse" target="_blank">Alpana Adhikari migrated to the UK</a> , she knew exactly why. Her son was diagnosed with Williams Syndrome and she wanted better education facilities for him. In 20 months, she realised the dream. She migrated under a well-designed government-to-government (G2G) pilot initiative that did not require her to pay any fees and offered transparent terms of employment.&nbsp;
Imagine if she had migrated like a majority of other Nepali nurses do — paying exorbitant recruitment fees, expensive license tests, visa delays, unnecessary time and financial costs through ‘consultancies’ which may find ways to cheat.
Just like many migrants’ stories, hers too could have been a story of deferred dreams. She may still have been able to accomplish what she had desired, but perhaps not so soon or as easily.&nbsp;
The G2G pilot was for a quota of 100, but only 40 managed to meet the criteria. The 60 wasted opportunities did not raise eyebrows, not even when our reality is that many who failed to secure a seat through the G2G still managed to migrate through traditional ways, including to the UK.
With or without well-executed labour mobility schemes, people still migrate and gain from it. Because migrating, despite the costs, hassles and struggle, still allow for earnings that are relatively better and regular. People want to move to new places, learn new things, grow, see the world, and as many migrants say they want to “work within a system”.
But ‘better’ is a relative term, the outcomes may be better than what people leave behind in Nepal, but may not be as good as they could be in the global labour market if we had access to better implemented bilateral labor partnerships and a more competent and honest labor mobility industry. We are not making the most of overseas employment, not at an individual or a national level.
This is an area where our public narrative and how we evaluate the Government’s migration management also fall short. Both the Japan SSW scheme and the UK pilot show how wasted opportunities don’t raise alarm even when people seek similar jobs through alternate, more costly and time-consuming, routes.
Hundreds of thousands of workers migrate to Gulf countries and Malaysia but the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times" target="_blank">outcomes</a> can differ vastly depending on the employer. There are differences in recruitment fees, career growth, remittances sent, living and working conditions including safety standards, among others. Working in a multinational company is not the same as working in a supply company, so dismissing the Gulf countries as one homogenous experience overlooks these distinctions.
Nepalis are willing to invest in language training such as Korean for better schemes like EPS when there is trust in the benefits and process. Such investment in skills prior to departure can yield multifold returns.
<a href="https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/287551468053374058/pdf/wps4231.pdf" target="_blank">Evidence</a> shows that a good share of Nepal’s poverty reduction can be attributed to remittances. And this is despite remittances coming from recruitment that involves high cost, skill mismatch, limited choice of good employers or decent jobs, weak labour diplomacy, and a failure to attract top employers.
Fixing the foreign employment sector need not be at odds with fixing the domestic labour market. When the Nepali <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what" target="_blank">diaspora</a> does well, Nepal does well. When one member has access to a good overseas opportunity, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/jajrkot-to-johar" target="_blank">10 members fare well</a> back home. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/more-remittance-more-than-remittance" target="_blank">Remittances</a> far outperform other external financing like FDI and foreign aid, are more resilient and directly reach the pockets of families.&nbsp;
Inclusive jobs and employment as social protection via <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/missing-the-plot-in-nepals-job-scheme" target="_blank">public works</a> programs remain central to our domestic labour priorities. But we should be thinking about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/fee-free-migration-is-possible" target="_blank">inclusive</a> labour mobility programs in a similar way to help the poorest pockets.
Nepal should be attracting the best of employers, diversifying to new destination countries and sectors with better worker protections and higher earnings. Broad, non-binding MOUs should be treated not as an end point, but as the start of further diplomacy and collaboration on skills and labour mobility schemes.
People leave and will continue to leave in the hundreds of thousands. But where to? How? For what kind of jobs? What are the returns of these jobs? At what cost? And what safety protections are in place?
Despite the possibilities for better life outcomes that migration offers, why are there no active demands from the public for good emigration? <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-truth-about-migration" target="_blank">Immigration</a> is a politically divisive topic in many migrant receiving countries. In Nepal the duress to leave (बाध्यता) has become part of our public narrative but the compulsion to choose less rewarding overseas opportunities by migrants has not.
Even the new faces, new voices that have emerged after the GenZ protests refer to migration largely as an outcome of state failure, a problem that needs to be solved. This is not surprising because people are leaving and villages are emptying. Such perceptions are not baseless, but are rooted in many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-abused-by-nepalis-in-luxembourg" target="_blank">stories</a> of abuse that migrants face overseas.
Without romanticising बिदेश or legitimizing the struggles workers face overseas, migration has enabled transformation for countless Nepalis who did not want to be confined by circumstances of birth.&nbsp;
Considering youth aspiration, the demographic shift that have expanded temporary labour programs globally, and the immense power of the Nepali diaspora waiting to be unlocked, “गरि खान देउ” should have a beyond border outlook. If not for more migration, certainly for better migration.
Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

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