All Nepalis take pride in the fact that the Buddha was born in Nepal, but few may know that Kathmandu Valley has the longest uninterrupted Buddhist tradition. Legend has it that the Mauryan Emperor Ashoka visited the Valley and married his daughter Charumati to a Patan nobility 2,000 years ago. The stupas of Chabahil and Pim Baha date back to that period. Buddhism has been preserved and continuously practiced in Kathmandu Valley since then to this day. Because of Kathmandu Valley’s relative isolation, the monastic tradition survived here while it was destroyed by waves of Muslim invasion in north India. The centres of learning and worship safeguarded Theravada practices, while evolving into the unique Vajrayana traditions that are the characteristic of Newar Buddhism that then travelled north into Tibet, China and up to Japan, assimilating local influences along the way. It was in the Valley’s monastic sites, known as baha, that rituals and tantric practices of Newar Buddhism thrive to this day. Seven of Kathmandu Valley’s temple complexes are in UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites, and Itumbaha is one of five main Newar Buddhist monastic enclaves in Kathmandu. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/itumbahas-living-museum">Itumbaha's living museum</a>, Sahina Shrestha The World Monument Watch has included Itumbaha in its list of most endangered sites. A visit to the square shows why: while the courtyard and temple are intact, it is now surrounded by concrete high-rises of inner city Kathmandu.&nbsp; Itumbaha has existed for at least 800 years, and many of the carved wooden struts and columns, steles and votive structures survived earthquakes, invasions and political upheavals. Indeed, Itumbaha is only one of only three monastic structures in Kathmandu Valley that have preserved their original architecture for so long.&nbsp; The monastery is a part of the community and its rituals and activities are managed by the local sangha made of non-celibate priests, and the leadership in itself has been passed down through the generations.&nbsp; Because of its importance, Itumbaha was selected for urgent protection in 2003, and work started in restoring the collapsed south wing of the courtyard by Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust (KVPT) with support from the German Embassy and the local community. The eastern wing was subsequently restored with support from the World Monument Fund. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=604">Polishing up the past</a>, Nepali Times The historical and cultural importance of Itumbaha and its meticulous rehabilitation from 2002- 2016 is now documented in a new book launched by KVPT last week: Restoration of Itumbaha. The book has contributions from a star cast of heritage conservationists and architects like Niels Gutschow, Thomas Schrom, Rohit Ranjitkar and contributions by other local and international experts. Alexander von Rospatt of Berkeley has a longish chapter on the monastic traditions of Itumbaha and explains why its intangible heritage is the reason the place is such a culturally vibrant shrine to this day. Gutschow documents in great detail the restoration work, with revealing before and after illustrations. One of the elaborately carved wooden tympanum was stolen in 2003 and has never been found. It was probably sold by art dealers to collectors or museums. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Legends-of-pragya-paramita,3281">The legends of Pragya Paramita</a>, Shuvechchhya Pradhan As a part of the effort to protect existing artefacts and to spread awareness about heritage theft, a small room in the southwest corner of the courtyard is housing a museum that is being <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/itumbahas-living-museum">upgraded with support from the Rubin Museum</a>. The Itumbaha Initiative did not even try to fight the tidal wave of concrete that engulfed the historic heart of Kathmandu in the past decades. There was no legal way to stop private property owners to go high, and neither was there the political will to implement zoning laws. Gutschow notes: ‘Entering the courtyard one experiences a world of its own, a confined sanctuary with a horizon below the eaves. Rising the eyes only one is aware of the other world, contemporary Kathmandu … (with its) aggressive environment.’ And that is the message of this book: that Kathmandu’s best treasures like Itumbaha are hidden away. Finding them needs work. One has to walk down narrow alleys with cantilevered high-rises that block out the sky, through the fumes, noise and crowds of Asan Tole, to enter the Kayagunani square and from there cross the threshold of the inner courtyard and then the sanctum sanctorum. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-nepals-lost-and-the-found">Remembering Nepal's lost and the found</a>, Ashish Dhakal Centuries of history speak from the corners, cobble stones are polished by the feet of ages, the bricks are eroded with time, chaityas encrusted with vermilion dot the courtyard.&nbsp; Restoration of Itumbaha is a documentation of the heritage and conservation of this priceless secret jewel of Kathmandu, and the book can serve as a useful guide for first time visitors and frequenters alike.&nbsp; Once is not enough because there is so much history and culture crammed into such a small space. Best to take the book along, sit in the square and let the architectural drawings, pre-restoration images and progress of pilgrims immerse you in Itumbaha's universe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230728060712_e361648b29caa0a50bc6b0d014cbaacbcdfe2ddad3cd70133f31fc3b5beb88a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230728060712_e361648b29caa0a50bc6b0d014cbaacbcdfe2ddad3cd70133f31fc3b5beb88a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Page 9 book details NT"> </figure>  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/faith-stolen-lost-in-nepal-found-in-america?fbclid=IwAR339kc1dVacPz-FtNvJMdX7wBCk68KWkYD9EYasJsPphlbsQdwG-cfMkSg">Faith Stolen: Lost in Nepal, found in America</a>, Lost Arts of Nepal

Kunda Dixit

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Bedrock of Buddhism

Itumbaha is one of the 18 Buddhist monastic enclaves of Kathmandu with a rich history shaped by the Shakyas of Lumbini, who fled to Kathmandu. According to legend, the site was built by Keshchandra, the son of a king in the 11th century. The complex retains most of its original layout with monasteries, courtyards, and votive shrines. After the 1960s, many of Kathmandu’s sacred objects were stolen and smuggled out to collectors and museums in the West. Itumbaha was not spared. “It is said that there are many artefacts that have been stolen from here, but we do not have any documentation,” says Pragya Ratna Shakya of the Itumbaha Conservation Society.&nbsp; In 2022, the Rubin Museum of Art in New York returned two artefacts to Nepal after they were found to have been stolen from religious sites in Kathmandu Valley. The anonymous site Lost Arts of Nepal had located the items at the Rubin following which the citizen-led Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign (NHRC) wrote to the museum for their return. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/bedrock-of-buddhism">Bedrock of Buddhism</a>, Kunda Dixit One of the artefacts was a 14th-century Flying Gandharva (apsara) from Itumbaha. The Rubin also announced a partnership with the Itumbaha Conservation Society and Lumbini Buddhist University (LBU) to ‘research, preserve, and display the collection of one of the oldest, largest, and most important monasteries in Kathmandu, Nepal’. “While working on the return of the apsara, the Rubin expressed an interest in helping the community in any which way it could,” recalls Swosti Rajbhandari, a Museology lecturer at LBU who mediated the collaboration.&nbsp; The Itumbaha Conservation Society wanted to use vacant spaces to display its collection, and the Rubin contributed $20,000 for a three-room display. Rajbhandari and her students cleaned, researched, and catalogued some 500 artefacts. The Itumbaha Museum was set to be inaugurated on 29 July with nearly 150 of the documented objects on display.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230727100756_7274ecc982ef8128a2634cc52a4ecb75ac2e01197937f6399c8e7edb411ef036.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230727100756_7274ecc982ef8128a2634cc52a4ecb75ac2e01197937f6399c8e7edb411ef036" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Page 9 NT 2"> </figure>  The museum concept has been two decades in making, ever since the vihara was being restored in 2003. To construct the museum, the Itumbaha Conservation Society had previously approached Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) when Bidya Sundar Shakya was the mayor. Although they were promised a budget, the community never got the money. Pragya Ratna Shakya sees the museum as an attempt to save its heritage. “There is no point keeping the objects hidden in storage,” says Shakya. “If we display them, there is documentation including photographs and that will hinder theft. It will also help in claiming the artefact if it is stolen.” The Rubin Museum says it is seeking opportunities for meaningful exchange of knowledge, experience, and perspectives across Nepal and the Himalayan region.&nbsp; In an email interview from New York, Jorrit Britschgi, Executive Director of the Rubin Museum, who is traveling to Nepal for the inauguration, told Nepali Times: “For us, our return of the Garland Bearing Apsara demonstrates our commitment to continual collection, research, and our support of Itumbaha’s vision for these galleries is an example of what a return can lead to.”&nbsp; Swosti Rajbhandari, who is helping curate the museum, says that this is a positive step and can contribute to the repatriation of stolen artefacts. She says, “Lain Singh Bangdel said that more than 80% of Nepal’s best work is abroad. The reason we have not been able to bring them back is because we don’t have documentation and proof to show that they are ours. This can be a start.” Yagyaman Pati Bajracharya, intangible heritage conservationist and Buddhist priest, agrees that having a space to showcase the artefacts of the vihara is a positive step. “This will help the younger generation, educators, and researchers from all over the world learn about our culture and heritage,” he says. But not everyone is happy with the Rubin’s involvement or the idea of a museum in the vihara complex. "Itumbaha itself is a living museum," says Jyoti Ratna Shakya, a local of Itumbaha. "Having a museum there is counterintuitive. Moreover, why take money from the Rubin or anyone else? Itumbaha was built by our ancestors, why involve anyone else? It is a disgrace." Activists involved in repatriation also say the Rubin could be doing more to ensure stolen Nepal artefacts are returned.&nbsp; “We are happy that the Rubin Museum has returned the flying apsara once attention was drawn to the fact that it was stolen from Itumbaha,” says Kanak Mani Dixit of the NHRC campaign. “This is a starting point for the Rubin, which considers itself a museum of the Himalaya. It has accountability towards Nepal and other parts of the Himalayan region.” Dixit says the Rubin should go public with the result of its investigation on the provenance of the apsara that was returned, and the route it took to get to New York.&nbsp; “The Museum should conduct a systematic review of its holdings to ensure that there are no other stolen artefacts from Nepal and elsewhere, and must be proactive in returning such items to the host communities rather than wait for activists to come in pursuit,” adds Dixit.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072711070_1c8baa8146324f0c0d75e395e2079ccfdc8d20c9c7131e16027cc3d2e9f72bfa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023072711070_1c8baa8146324f0c0d75e395e2079ccfdc8d20c9c7131e16027cc3d2e9f72bfa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1029" loading="lazy" alt="Page 9 NT 3"> </figure>  A quick search on the Rubin’s website shows 101 artefacts from Nepal, but activists say there may be many more that have not been listed or on display, although not all of them may be stolen or smuggled. In a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0yKxj3KS3E">2018 documentary by Al Jazeera</a>, art dealer Deepak Shakya had named the Rubin as one of his family’s connections in New York. When the journalist Steve Chou approached the museum, it denied having anything from Shakya in its collection. Britschgi says provenance research is a critical and ongoing process for the Rubin, and recent returns have made the museum more aware of the continued need to dedicate resources to it. “The returns have also led us to re-evaluate elements of our acquisition policy,” says Britschgi. “If the Rubin learns, through its own research, or by another party, that objects in its collection are claimed to have been stolen, looted, or illegally excavated, the Rubin immediately addresses these claims carefully and seriously.” But activists are skeptical of Rubin’s motive and concerned that the museum is using Itumbaha to clean up its international image and blunt criticism that has come its way. By accepting the Rubin’s help and allowing it to host events, some say Nepal is legitimising the museum's past acts. “This is whitewashing,” says heritage conservationist Rabindra Puri, who chairs the Museum of Stolen Art. “If it is about good faith and goodwill, the museum should investigate its collection and return the Nepali artefacts that are rightfully ours.”&nbsp; “There could be potential conflict in future repatriation of other sculptures if discovered in the Rubin’s collection. There may also be other museums with stolen artefacts that may approach other communities in Nepal to absolve themselves. This is setting a negative precedent,” Puri adds. The bahas and bahis of Kathmandu Valley are already living museums, and are sacred spaces that have served as places of learning and worship for centuries. Critics say introducing the western notion of a ‘museum’ devoid of emotional attachment to the visitor is cultural invasion and a form of neocolonialism. Another activist who wished to remain anonymous said, “There are many &nbsp;examples of collectors and traffickers who have funded scholarly excavations and laundered their reputation by donating or helping museums with collections. The Rubin’s involvement can be viewed in a similar lens.” &nbsp;&nbsp;

Sahina Shrestha

Itumbaha's living museum

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Chronic winter drought and decades of unmanaged forest biomass have turned wildfires into a systemic risk for Nepal. We need to re-learn to convert fire fuel in forests into fertilizer for crops.&nbsp; On 11 January, a huge forest fire spread rapidly from China into the forests of Sindhupalchok, 40km northeast of Kathmandu. The newly-opened Tatopani border checkpoint was closed. Smoke from the fire spread across central Nepal, blocking the sun.&nbsp; The fire burnt itself out within a few days, but the border stayed closed for longer. Such wildfires were once rare in mid-winter, and traditionally peaked between March and May as temperatures rose ahead of pre-monsoon showers. What is unsettling is not just the early onset of the fires, but also their scale. This shift is not accidental, the pattern has been unfolding over years due to winter drought, weakening post-monsoon moisture, and the accumulation of dry forest biomass as Nepal’s forest area doubled in the past 30 years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009024_5f4a84bb389f9b56f4fa47d4f694adcd464eb13b192d184af0f1eb20efdfeebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026022009024_5f4a84bb389f9b56f4fa47d4f694adcd464eb13b192d184af0f1eb20efdfeebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1055" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>A NASA FIRMS image of Nepal with red dots signifying fires in February 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  Together, these factors have made forests tinder dry in spring, just waiting for a spark. Nepal has experienced winter drought in eight of the past ten years (this winter was an exception). Winter rain and snow at higher elevations play a decisive role in maintaining surface moisture, recharging shallow aquifers, and keeping forest floors damp enough to resist ignition. When winter rains fail, forests dry out months earlier than usual. Satellite-based assessments show a steep decline in surface moisture across the middle mountains of Nepal, particularly in areas with dense forest cover but limited undergrowth management. Springs that once flowed year-round are now seasonal.&nbsp; More than half of the springs in the mid-hills have either dried up or show significantly reduced discharge, a trend closely linked to declining soil moisture and disrupted recharge zones. Dry soil does not just threaten water security — it helps the vegetation ignite. FUEL WITHOUT FUNCTION For decades, Nepal’s forests have been accumulating dry leaf litter, fallen branches, shrubs, and deadwood. Historically, this biomass was not considered waste because rural households regularly collected leaf litter for livestock bedding, which was later composted and returned to farms as fertilizer.&nbsp; Forest floors were therefore relatively clean while the mulch fertilized farms. That relationship has steadily eroded due to outmigration, changes in livestock systems, restrictions on access to community forests, and the growing availability of chemical fertilisers.&nbsp; Community forests across the country today are thick with dry twigs, branches and leaves — a highly combustible carpet. When prolonged drought dries this biomass, even a small spark from a herder’s intentional fire, a cigarette, or lightning strike can trigger massive fires.&nbsp; Under such conditions, the question is no longer whether fires will occur, but how intense and widespread they will be. Forest fires are often framed as an environmental issue concerning trees and wildlife. In reality, their impact extends far beyond forest boundaries.&nbsp; Smoke travels faster and further than flames. Fine particulate matter, especially harmful PM2.5, spreads across countries. In recent fire seasons, air quality monitors in Kathmandu have recorded air quality levels several times higher than WHO guidelines. The smoke adds to Kathmandu’s own pollution and lingers for days.&nbsp; Flights are cancelled or delayed in cities like Pokhara, and poor visibility blocks mountain views affecting tourism. Health facilities report spikes in respiratory complaints, particularly among children and the elderly. Just as wildfires have multi-sectoral causes, the impact of forest fires go beyond forests. One critical dimension remains largely invisible: the soil. The fires cause silent damage beneath the ash, and the emergency does not end when the flames subside. Beneath the surface, soil suffers long-term damage. Organic matter burns away, beneficial microorganisms die. The soil structure weakens, reducing the land’s ability to absorb and retain water. The scorched earth is more prone to erosion, increasing the risk of floods and landslides once the rains return.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009028_cc54ff056b2cac8b789cfd4d11afef9eaf943368e47b99aabd57c7b63b776cf2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026022009028_cc54ff056b2cac8b789cfd4d11afef9eaf943368e47b99aabd57c7b63b776cf2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1717" height="2143" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>Wildfire risk map based on the validated Random Forest model (a) Overall reclassified wildfire risk map of Nepal, (b) District level wildfire risk, and (c) Municipality wildfire risk map.</figcaption> </figure>  In many of Nepal’s agricultural areas, soil organic matter levels are already below 2% -- lower than what is needed for resilient and productive farming. Repeated fires push these levels even lower, undermining soil fertility and forcing farmers to rely more heavily on chemical fertilisers, unleashing a vicious cycle of higher costs and food insecurity.&nbsp; Climate breakdown is often cited as the primary culprit, and rightly so. Rising temperatures and erratic rainfall have intensified fire risk. But fires in Nepal are increasingly the result of human intervention.&nbsp; The response of all three levels of government remains too little, and too reactive. Each year, resources are mobilised to extinguish fires once they have already spread. Far less attention is paid to managing the fuel load within forest undergrowth that makes such fires inevitable.&nbsp; Meanwhile, forestry and agriculture policies are not coordinated, missing opportunities to address shared challenges. Forest fires are not natural disasters, but predictable outcomes of governance choices. National plans and climate pledges set an ambitious target of raising soil organic matter to 4%. The science behind this goal is solid. Higher organic matter improves water retention, stabilises yields, reduces fertiliser dependence, and enhances long-term food security. What remains unclear is the pathway.&nbsp; Where will the organic inputs come from? How will they be processed and applied safely at scale? Without practical answers, the 4% target risks remaining aspirational rather than achievable. Forest undergrowth can be turned into fuel and fertiliser. Biochar is produced by heating organic biomass in a low-oxygen environment, converting it into a stable form of carbon that can be added to soil.&nbsp; When properly produced and applied, it improves soil structure, enhances water and nutrient retention, supports microbial activity, and locks carbon into the ground for decades. In Nepal biochar addresses two interconnected problems: reducing the accumulation of combustible biomass in forests, lowering fire risk, while simultaneously rebuilding depleted soils. In doing so, it restores the broken link between forest management and agriculture.&nbsp; Done well, biochar is not merely an environmental intervention. It is an economic one, with potential to create local employment, reduce farmers’ input costs, and support climate-smart agriculture. But biochar propagation depends on improved governance. If promoted as isolated pilots or short-term projects, it will fail. What is needed is institutional clarity: standards for production and safety, quality control mechanisms, farmer extension services, and coordination across local, provincial, and federal levels.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009028_e6e2218f38fae5b1fe81d9f99078fe01f58d04b4b3b2c41447f017c3f838a1d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026022009028_e6e2218f38fae5b1fe81d9f99078fe01f58d04b4b3b2c41447f017c3f838a1d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>Freshly prepared biochar under control tempature (350-600°C).</figcaption> </figure>  Community forest user groups could manage biomass collection. Local governments then support safe, decentralised production units. Agricultural extension services guide farmers on application, linked to soil testing and monitoring. Such an approach would reduce fire risk, improve soil health, and generate rural livelihoods.&nbsp; Poorly produced biochar or contaminated feedstock can harm soils and human health. Without training, standards, and oversight, good intentions can backfire. Nepal needs to move beyond fire-fighting to fire prevention and confront the structural causes that make them a growing risk. It is not just a technical choice – it is one that demands political will from newly-elected leaders after March. &nbsp;&nbsp; Ngamindra Dahal is a hydrometeorologist with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation specialising on climate and water management issues.&nbsp;

RED ALERT: Get ready for the wildfire season

Early on Monday morning, a bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu plunged off the highway in Dhading killing 19 passengers. Two weeks ago, another bus fell into the Tama Kosi in Manthali, killing 12. A few days before that a bus crash in Baitadi killed 13 people.&nbsp; In just the month before Nepal's election, more than 50 people have been killed in road traffic accidents. Most of these cannot be called 'accidents'. They are a direct result of poorly maintained highways and lack of enforcement of traffic discipline. Political parties in Nepal have rolled out their election manifestos, and voters are once again presented with a flood of promises. Page after page, these documents list megawatts and microcredit, highways and airports, jobs and investment. In these manifestos, growth is quantified, projects itemised, revenue forecast — and there are even threats to beat up contractors who do not finish their jobs. But when everything is declared a priority the stale promises are empty. The voter is left confused as to where the party’s loyalties really lie. Will any of these plans and pledges actually ever materialise and help Nepalis live longer, safer, healthier lives? The main job of any accountable government is to protect its citizens, not so much from foreign enemies but from domestic mismanagement. And this means the most basic test the new government should be made to pass is whether it can ensure basic well-being and protection for all its people. The problems of safety, health, and survival remain unresolved for most Nepalis, and are quietly eroding their lives. In the past year alone, the country’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">roads and highways claimed more than 2,300</a> lives. An estimated 41,000 Nepalis die each year directly because of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous">air pollution</a>, and their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/air-pollution-killing-season-starts-early">lifespans are lessened by 3.4 years</a>.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health">Non-communicable diseases</a> now account for well over half of total deaths in the country. And even where survival has improved, deprivation remains. Chronic malnutrition continues to haunt communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mass-migration-from-muktikot">Nepal’s western mountains</a> despite progress in maternal and child health.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="683" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  These are the lived realities of most Nepalis, and it is here that development can deliver its most immediate returns. A rising GDP, in and of itself, does not make roads safer, clean polluted air, or provide enough nutrition to children. Such outcomes demand intentional, granular policies that confront the specific, everyday problems shaping people’s lives.&nbsp; Macroeconomic growth, trade and investment are important, but these alone cannot guarantee improvements health and safety. The word ‘growth’, after all, is also synonymous with malignancy. Economic progress and human protection are correlated only when governance deliberately links them. Impact on life is the unit in which ordinary Nepalis calculate progress. What is needed, then, is a governing philosophy measurable in these same terms: a ‘life-first’ standard where every policy, budget, and reform can be understood and judged by its impact on protecting and extending human life. Such a ‘life-first’ approach would scrutinise three aspects of every policy. First, whether the policy prevents loss of life. A death is termed preventable if better, more coordinated response systems and regulations could have avoided it (vaccines, drugs, road safety, clean drinking water). A newly built six-lane highway <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/highway-accidents-are-no-accident-in-nepal">can be a death trap</a> due to poor design or lax enforcement of safety rules. If neonatal deaths continue in a district despite hospitals being present, or if malnutrition claims lives in predominantly agricultural regions, they too are failures. Preventable deaths also cluster where accountability is less direct. Just last year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/suicides-a-pandemic-within-a-pandemic">Nepal recorded 6,866 suicides</a>, with nearly 20 lives lost every day, yet these deaths fail to prompt any serious examination of governance. The same holds for fatalities linked to domestic or communal violence, alcohol and substance misuse, or ‘natural’ disasters, which register as ‘tragedies without remedy’ rather than as outcomes policy can influence. But when avoidable loss of life recurs at scale, isolated incidents become patterns, and patterns reveal systemic neglect. Saving lives, however, is only the first step, and what matters just as much is the quality of years lived. Nepal’s life expectancy now stands at 71 years, yet many citizens spend years in avoidable disability, untreated chronic illness, or mental distress. A life- first government must ask not only whether people live, but whether they thrive. Are citizens able to pursue education, work, and family life without fear of preventable harm? Do communities have access to clean air and water, nutritious food, and basic healthcare? Can a teenager anywhere in Nepal imagine a future not foreclosed by premature marriage, or untreated depression?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940" data-rendition-name="original" width="2529" height="1427" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  Thriving requires policies that prevent suffering and promote well-being in addition to ensuring survival.&nbsp; Finally, governance must consider graceful aging. Elderly Nepalis should not be left to navigate disease, poverty, or isolation alone. Social systems, healthcare, and community support must enable their continued participation and dignified well-being. Adopting this three-layered standard would gradually reorient how success of any new government is defined. Transportation would be judged by fatalities reduced on the roads. Electricity generation would be measured by whether households can switch from firewood dependence to smoke-free electric stoves.&nbsp; Increase in annual rice harvest must translate into better nutrition, reducing the prevalence of chronic diseases like diabetes. Accountability must follow problems rather than stop at Singha Darbar. Only then will politicians and bureaucrats eventually recognise that their work converges on the same human endpoint. Critics will argue that economies are complex, trade-offs are inevitable, and that governance cannot be reduced to a single metric.But, as Acemoglu and Robinson show in their book <a href="https://ia801506.us.archive.org/27/items/WhyNationsFailTheOriginsODaronAcemoglu/Why-Nations-Fail_-The-Origins-o-Daron-Acemoglu.pdf">Why Nations Fail</a>, the key difference between prosperity and poverty lies in inclusive institutions that empower citizens and create broad incentives for well-being.&nbsp; Extractive institutions concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few while keeping the majority trapped in neglect. Nepal’s governance has remained a striking example of extraction. If lawmakers in the new Parliament continue to resist changes that would save and improve the lives of ordinary citizens, the same systemic rot will persist for generations to come. A life-first mentality can cut through this inertia by clarifying the moral centre of governance and reminding policymakers that behind every policy failure lies human cost. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-hunger">Every mother in Bajura</a> with a child going hungry at night, every farmer in the Madhes unable to afford medical care, and every family that has lost <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">a migrant son to kidney failure</a> understands the true <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating">value of a life saved</a>. Life is the one metric that transcends ideology, ethnicity, and region. Centering governance on this single, focused metric, can shift an election from a contest of rhetoric to a contest of evidence. Which party ensured access to safe water and basic healthcare? Which made work at home and abroad safer and less exploitative. Which measurably extended healthy years of life for ordinary citizens? Health is wealth. By improving the healthy lifespan of citizens economic prosperity would follow naturally. A ‘life-first’ governance model would therefore compel Nepal to address the underlying structural failures across all sectors, rather than merely alleviating their symptoms. The GenZ protest that toppled the government last September was, at its core, a demand for accountability and a rejection of politics as usual. But as the country edges closer to the polls, that clarity has started to dissipate. Parties are now echoing the language of reform, but the public discourse remains dominated by promises that feel disconnected from Nepal’s most immediate and basic priorities. Every preventable death, every hungry child, and every neglected elder becomes a direct failure of governance and a moral debt the state must answer for. It is how we can make sure we keep the next government in check. The writers are Nepali GenZ students of biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Nepal’s life or death election

Party flags and banners wave from electric poles, houses and e-rickshaws are festooned with posters. Madhes Province is in the grip of election fever, and in a tour through four of its districts, there is the sense that any efforts by mainstream political parties at reforms have come too little too late. Among the banners, the sky blue of the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/new-vs-new-in-nepal"> RSP is more prominent </a>here this time, and the rallying cry across the country for new and improved leadership is echoed on the ground. “For the people around here, whatever these old leaders are saying has become just noise,” says a lassi shop operator in Janakpur, waving a dismissive hand at flags with the NC’s tree symbol across the street. In Janakpur, UML nominee Raghubir Mahaseth was barred from canvassing door-to-door. Campaign posters of the mainstream parties have been torn from walls and replaced with RSP posters.&nbsp; In Inarwari village of Rautahat in the Madhes heartland, local elected officials whose parties have been merged into the Nepali Communist Party hope to retain enough supporters this election. But not many residents say they would vote for its candidate. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022005024_a793e3a19cbd536fde50708c4a41b8b0d39a4716c6973feddad889097b655641.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026022005024_a793e3a19cbd536fde50708c4a41b8b0d39a4716c6973feddad889097b655641" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Battleground Tarai NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SHRISTI KARKI</figcaption> </figure>  A first-time voter in Sarlahi’s Haripur is home on a semester break from medical school in Kathmandu, and is waiting excitedly for 5 March. “You can’t really say out loud whom you’re voting for around here,” he says, as he mimes ringing a bell. “It is time for someone new to be in-charge." In the highway town of Bardibas, an elderly teashop owner says that all she hears are calls for घण्टी, the RSP’s bell symbol. “After all, bells are rung in the house of gods,” she says. “It seems like the right choice.” The RSP wave sweeping the nation after the GenZ movement is seen in Madhes, and the PR ballots might reflect that, notes political analyst Tula Narayan Shah.&nbsp; “But the socio-cultural networks, organisational setup, and legacy of democratic movement of traditional parties might still give them a fighting chance on the first past the post ballot,” he says. &nbsp;“The door-to-door campaign style of candidates has always been more prominent in Madhes than elsewhere.”&nbsp; Villages like Dhankaul in Sarlahi-4 where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/grand-split-in-nepal-s-grand-old-party">Gagan Thapa</a> of the Nepali Congress (NC) is running against incumbent Amresh Singh, is an NC stronghold. Singh won the election here twice before in 2013 and 2017 when he was an NC leader, and still had goodwill among NC voters when he ran and won as an independent during the 2022 election. “I voted for him twice before when he was in the NC, but he did not do anything for this or other villages. Once he is elected, he has not set foot here,” says Rajiv Yadav, a voter in Dhanakul. “The RSP will get more votes here than last time, but Gagan is sure to win. This village will vote for him.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022005024_26691bb5a37edf705cc197a632d0bf032f984079a838d31bcd943bc0b9c97ff3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026022005024_26691bb5a37edf705cc197a632d0bf032f984079a838d31bcd943bc0b9c97ff3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Battleground Tarai NT"> </figure>  Madhes is in the spotlight this election because two prime ministerial candidates have focused their attention in the region. Balen Shah began his campaign in Janakpur (main picture, left) in January as a ‘Son of Madhes’, and Gagan Thapa chose Sarlahi-4 as his constituency over Kathmandu-4, from where he has been elected since 2013.&nbsp; The Madhes has always been the battleground for Nepal’s electoral politics, and candidates from here, like Krishna Prasad Bhattarai from Parsa, Pushpa Kamal Dahal from Siraha, Jhala Nath Khanal from Sarlahi, and Madhav Kumar Nepal from Rautahat, have all been prime ministers. Despite electing politicians to high office in Kathmandu, districts of Madhes have consistently ranked low in development and service delivery indicators, especially in basic healthcare and education. Socio-economic inequalities stemming from a lack of opportunities has also meant that Madhes districts have the highest rate of out-migration in the country.&nbsp; What is different this time is that the people of the province have a Madhesi prime ministerial candidate who will represent them in national politics, and the main competition ultimately will be between the NC and RSP prime ministerial candidates. Interestingly, voters seem to be looking beyond Madhes-based parties who have historically campaigned on identity and federalism.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022005024_1b5c1134fb02ded72a12221200918df584b0cd003139bb2be44951efe9a65bf1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026022005024_1b5c1134fb02ded72a12221200918df584b0cd003139bb2be44951efe9a65bf1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Battleground Tarai NT"> </figure>  “Leaders of Madhes parties have glorified their struggle for votes but failed to perform on good governance at local and provincial levels,” explains Tula Narayan Shah. “Now, Balen has become a PM candidate as a face of the region, and as someone who will deliver based on his work as Kathmandu mayor.” If the RSP wins, it will be governing in the absence of provincial leadership that would play a crucial mediatory role between Kathmandu and local units. On Wednesday, RSP’s Madhes province chair Mamta Sharma resigned from the party and joined the NC. There is also some underlying tension between RSP cadre loyal to Balen Shah and Rabi Lamichhane. “It is not prudent to predict who will win the election and whether parties will deliver on promises,” says Tula Narayan Shah. “But win or lose, there is little basis at this time to believe that the RSP will be committed to making the federal system and provinces more functional.” Voters here in the heart of the federalism movement, however, are willing to give the RSP the benefit of the doubt. &nbsp;Resident Brahma Dev in Janakpur told us: &nbsp;“The RSP, like parties that came before them, deserve a chance to prove their leadership in the next five years. If they do not deliver, we can always vote them out next time.”&nbsp; On Wednesday, NC leaders unveiled the party’s 10-point election manifesto at a large rally in Janakpur (main picture, right). Gagan Thapa began by addressing a cheering crowd in Maithili, and said the NC was reformed, adding:&nbsp; “The GenZ did not reject us, they told us to change our ways.” Also on Wednesday 800km away at the other end of the country in Dhangadi, Balen Shah, in a speech that lasted just three minutes, he said: “Don’t vote for us, give us work to do.”&nbsp;