<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dfc9c7e80680e0bd51ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"/><figcaption>ALL PHOTOS: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>The historic town of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/05/03/harisiddhi-earthquake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Harisiddhi</a> is just 2km from the Ring Road, and still bears the scars of the earthquake from seven years ago. There are ruins of abandoned homes, and concrete high rises have come up where older houses collapsed.As many as 850 houses were destroyed or damaged in this town, leaving 24 residents and two visitors dead, 150 more were injured. As Harisiddhi rebuilds, it has also been transformed from a historic city with heritage buildings that defined the core area, into one that is no different from the rest of Kathmandu.The town is on the highway to Godavari, now a jumble of multi storey<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/preparing-for-future-shocks,3472" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> cement structures</a> over narrow alleyways. Here and there, we catch a glimpse of some old houses with tile roofs, empty lots where houses once stood, rubble overgrown with vegetation that still has not been cleared after seven years.Many families who lost their homes relocated to other parts of the Valley, while others still wait for assistance the government promised for rebuilding.Harisiddhi is a microcosm of the Valley’s many historic Newa towns — how the movers and shakers were the first to get compensation to rebuild, while <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Women-still-waiting-%20to-rebuild-homes-and-lives,3118" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women-led households</a>, Dalits and some ethnic groups with limited ownership or inadequate documents have not benefited from the recovery (see below).“When they decided on compensation, they forgot to consider the traditional makeup of Harisiddhi. Even today many residents here buy and sell land in the old way. Not everyone has a land title, even if they have been living here for generations,” explains Ganesh Kumar Maharjan, Chair of Ward 29. “This has delayed aid for many people.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dff9c7e80680e0bd51bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="412" height="198"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721dff9c7e80680e0bd51cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rebuilding</a> <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">resilience</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> 7 years later</a>, Anil PokhrelInitially after the 2015 earthquake, the government committed to give Rs200,000 in three tranches to each family whose house was destroyed or damaged beyond repair. The amount was later increased to Rs300,000. The first installment of Rs50,000 was provided when the house owner signed an agreement with the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA), the second Rs150,000 on completion of plinth level construction, and the last after completion of the roof level.But to get the second and third tranches, a certification from the NRA engineers indicating that the house complied with seismic-resistant design and building code was mandatory. Land ownership papers were also needed, and many in Harisiddhi were deprived of their compensation despite years of scouring government offices.In Ward 29, 252 households qualified for the assistance, and only 86 had land ownership papers. Some 58 houses are still waiting for money. The story is similar in Ward 28 which is still getting enquiries from survivors.Land registration in Nepal began in 1965, but in many ancient settlements like Harisiddhi, the dense cluster of houses in a small area as well as unclear division of land among family members posed a problem in registration. The language barrier and other social factors meant that many still do not have land titles.“It is a shame that houses that were built on once-public land have got their land titles but not the original inhabitants who have been living here for generations,” says Bharat Maharjan, a researcher on Newa settlements.To be sure, the government did facilitate the registration of land for survivors after the earthquake, but the latter say the window to register was too narrow and the process unclear.“They should be able to start the process at any time. But when they define the time, it becomes difficult as not everyone may have money for the process. When people have money, the window to register may not be open,” says Rajesh Maharjan, Chair of Ward 28.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e029c7e80680e0bd51djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Sita Kapali</h5>When the earthquake struck on the day of 25 April 2015, little did Sita Kapali think she would be experiencing aftershocks even after seven years.Sita, now 65, lives with her daughter Geeta and her grandson in a two-storey house outside the core area of Harisiddhi.The family was lucky that their old family house did not fully collapse and no one was killed. But the family could not afford to tear down the damaged home and build a new one. They had hoped the Rs300,000 assistance from the government would at least help in repairs.Two years after the earthquake, the family got the ‘red book’ and the first tranche of the housing assistance after their home was assessed. But the money was not enough to demolish the house, let alone rebuild. Moreover, the family did not have land ownership papers, which delayed the process further.“They said we did not qualify for the second tranche because we did not have land ownership papers. My brother made the rounds of government offices and finally got it made last year. But when the engineers came by again, they said we could not get the remaining money, they did not say why,” says Geeta.As per the clauses for housing assistance, the second tranche is released only after the reconstruction process has started and assessed by engineers. But this family simply has no finance to do that or get a loan from anywhere.Before the pandemic, Sita worked as a house help for families, but she has not been able to work since last year after her husband died, further straining the famaily’s finances.For now, the three continue to live in the old house mending the cracks with a slurry of mud and water. Her son and daughter-in-law have been living separately in a rented room since the earthquake because there is not enough room in the house for them. Her other son is working outside Kathmandu Valley.Says Sita: “It is ok for now but what will we do if there is another earthquake?”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e049c7e80680e0bd51ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e069c7e80680e0bd51fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Babu Kaji Kapali and Hasina Kapali</h5>Babu Kaji Kapali, 70, has three brothers. In theory the four brothers had separated, but they lived in the same house. When the earthquake occurred, the three-storey house collapsed and the roof caved in.“When the government announced the assistance, we were hoping each family would get it but they said only one person from one house can get it,” says Babu Kaji. “But we were all living separately already.”He sold a plot of his land and took out loans to build a four-room house in his farmland. He hopes the ownership papers of this house and land will qualify him for the grant. “We have to live somewhere. It will help repay debts,” says Babu KajiThe land ownership of the old family house is with his elder brother who is Hasina Kapali’s father-in-law, but even they have not been able to get the money.When Hasina’s father-in-law fell sick, they needed to move him from the temporary shelter. The family pooled in whatever money they had, and took loans from the bank and community center to rebuild the house. But they have only received the first tranche of government assistance. She does not know why they have not gotten the money despite having the land ownership paper.“I have been to the government offices several times but I’ve lost hope now. Clearly they are not giving money to the poor, those with better economic conditions than ours got it already. Maybe because we are further away from the core Harisiddhi village they missed us,” says Hasina.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e099c7e80680e0bd520jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Shrawan Kumar Maharjan</h5>Shrawan Kumar Maharjan has forgotten the number of times he has visited the ward office in the last seven years. In his latest visit last week, the 40-year-old craftsman returned empty handed yet again. He was there to see if the ward could help him claim the housing assistance.After their house collapsed in 2015, Shrawan and his family lived in the temporary shelter for years, waiting for the government assistance. Two years ago, he took out a loan and sold a plot of his land to rebuild the house.“This money is not enough to build a house in Kathmandu. And yet, I keep coming to the ward office to inquire about the government compensation because I would have at least paid off the interest on my loans,” says Shrawan.Like many here, the family did not have land ownership papers, so he filed for those at the Land Revenue Office. He still has not got the document.Says Shrawan, “We have lived here for generations, but we don’t have the papers. I don’t know why they cannot give us the money. If it is only about the land titles, then there are others without it who have already got theirs. The government has forgotten about us earthquake survivors.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e0c9c7e80680e0bd521jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h5>Dinesh Maharjan</h5>Dinesh Maharjan, 31, was in Dakshinkali with his family when the earthquake struck. Because the temple did not suffer any damage, he did not think the tremors were strong. But when he drove through the city towards Harisiddhi, he saw more and more damage. He knew then that his old mud house did not stand a chance.For the next three years, the family lived in temporary shelters moving from one place to another. “We did not have land titles or building permits, so they did not initially give us the money,” says Dinesh, repeating a familiar plight.The family decided to move to the core area and build a house there, but they did not have ownership papers for this land either. They took out loans and sold other property.“We managed to get the first tranche after proving we have been living here for generations. We had to bring four witnesses for that, it was a lot of hassle,” says Dinesh. The family received the first tranche in February 2020, and the rest of the amount only in July of last year.He has submitted his application for the land ownership papers in the Land Revenue Office but doesn’t know how far the process has gone. “We have the compensation now, but my paperwork for land title is still stuck at the Land Revenue Office,” he says. “If I don’t get the papers, we will have to go through the entire process again the next time there is an earthquake.”

Sahina Shrestha

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Falling through the cracks

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208569c7e80680e0b54dfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Land being plotted in KAthmandu's Sankhu for sale. Photos: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure><ul><li>A two-bedroom 185 sq m flat in an apartment block in Hatiban is on sale for Rs8.5 million. An average Nepali civil servant who earns Rs36,000 a month would need 20 years worth of salary to be able to afford it.</li> <li>Just to buy a plot of land to build a small house in the same locality of Lalitpur costs Rs16 million, for which the civil servant would have to pay a lump sum worth 37 years of salary earnings.</li> <li>A small plot of land by the highway bought 20 years ago in Bhaktapur is worth an astounding 7,000% more today. Even considering the devaluation of the Nepali rupee, that is sky-high appreciation.</li> <li>Another plot 4km off the Ring Road in Kathmandu that cost Rs10 million five years ago is now worth Rs50 million.</li> <li>A property in Kathmandu’s prime Darbar Marg area recent sold for Rs90 million ($750,000) per 33 sq m. This is one of the highest real estate values in the world.</li> <li>A house with land that was bought for Rs20 million in Tinkune six years ago sold for Rs80 million recently.</li></ul>A Nepal Rastra Bank report this year shows that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/home-is-where-the-heart-is/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">property value in Kathmandu Valley</a> is increasing at 27.7% a year, doubling real estate value every 3.5 years. This is despite average salaries in Nepal increasing by only 7.45% per year.Property value appreciation is even higher in other urban areas of Nepal, especially in Madhes Province and the Tarai towns of Far West Province. The price of real estate is doubling every two to three years here because of the soaring demand for land due to migration to the cities, plains and valleys from the mountain districts.There was a prediction that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-creeps-up-surrounding-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu’s property values</a> would decline after the 2015 earthquake, but the opposite has happened. Despite the government valuation for the property being much lower, land transactions are taking place arbitrarily, with no scientific basis for real value, or linked to productivity.Economists say there are many factors driving this real estate bubble in Nepal. Kathmandu Valley’s urbanisation pressure increased after free market forces were unleashed following the changes in the early 1990s, and people from across the country streamed into Kathmandu for education and jobs. The 1996-2006 conflict exacerbated this trend as people fled the fighting in the hinterland.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208599c7e80680e0b54e0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1001"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This process further accelerated further after 2006, and surveys have shown that one-third of all Nepalis have now moved away from the place where they were born. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepalis-moving-from-mountains-to-plains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Domestic migration</a> is  highest in Bagmati Province where Kathmandu Valley is situated, and where 47.3% of the residents are recent arrivals from outside. The percentage for Gandaki where Pokhara is located is also a high 40.2%, while Province 1 has 38.9% of its population from outside – mainly in the densely-populated Jhapa plains.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/paddy-planting-replaced-by-real-estate,3833" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Fuelled by remittance income</a>, this influx led directly to a steep rise in land prices. Adding to this is the unregulated loan disbursement by the banking sector which fuelled land transactions – leading directly to property speculation. This in turn tempted people with cash to convert it into real estate investment – leading to the indiscriminate ‘plotting’ of prime agricultural land in Kathmandu, Pokhara, Chitwan and other urban centres.Real estate transactions do not need to be routed through companies, and since anyone can be involved, this has opened up opportunities for buying and selling by bankers, politicians contractors and others who have inside information on future infrastructure projects. Even the Nepal Army is involved in real estate business, turning its property in Kirtipur into a housing colony.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15834#.Yf3eCy2B3ow" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Banks are in on</a> this unregulated real estate speculation. They have distributed loans worth Rs516 billion, which is a full 11% of their entire portfolios. More than 16% of overdraft facilities also mostly go for real estate transactions. Two-thirds of all loans have property as collateral. Even loans given for agriculture are diverted to property market. In the past three years, there has been a 60% increase in loans for agriculture projects, but neither farm production not productivity have not gone up in that period.In fact, one of the reasons for the liquidity crisis in the banking sector today is due to over-lending for land loans. These loans are not invested in productive sectors, they do not create jobs, or contribute to the economy. They just recycle cash, creating nothing but capital gain for those for whom gambling in real estate is a fulltime occupation.This trend is driven by unbridled greed which the government and the regulators are unable or unwilling to control because they themselves benefit from it. The end result is that it has distorted Nepal’s economy and created a vicious cycle, with the danger that the artificial bubble could burst at any time.Former finance secretary Rameshore Khanal says that most governments try to regulate the property market to make housing affordable to citizens, as well as to manage urbanisation.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-struggles-to-balance-nature-and-industry/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal struggles to balance nature and industries</a>, Ramesh Kumar“As long as banks are careful about giving out loans for land, property prices can be kept in check,” Khanal says. “In fact Nepal Rastra Bank should immediately stop allowing borrowers to put land as collateral to buy more land, and for home owners to get a loan to amass more property – because it is an abuse of the savings that citizens deposit in banks.”However, the central bank is unlikely to agree to such measures because its own officials have too much personal interest tied up with real estate. A private bank official who sanctioned a loan for a housing colony in Bhaisepati recently bought a lucrative 1 ropani plot for himself. Without any extra effort, and with low capital gains tax, it made sense for him to make the personal investment even though there was a clear conflict of interest.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/6372085c9c7e80680e0b54e1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nepal Rastra Bank governor Maha Prasad Adhikari himself has invested in property in Lalipur, Jhapa, Heatuda and elsewhere. Ministers, ex-ministers, politicians, senior civil servants and Supreme Court justices own property that exceed the land ownership ceiling.The unrealistic price of land has impacted on the government’s infrastructure development plans and private sector investment in hydropower, and other projects. It is now established practice for land owners, speculators, middle men and the land mafia to milk the government in infrastructure projects.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hiding-their-head-in-the-sand/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Hiding their head in the sand</a>, Ramu SapkotaThe government spends Rs 20 billion or more every year just in acquiring land for infrastructure projects. Bhairawa International Airport cost only Rs7 billion to build, but the government had to pay out Rs23.58 billion just in acquiring land for the project. Even the 2.38 km Nagdhunga Tunnel project has had to pay as much as Rs4.2 million per ana (33 sq m) of land.Twenty years ago, during his second tenure as prime minister, Sher Bahadur Deuba got Parliament to announce a ground-breaking lowering of the threshold for land ownership, and also stipulated that land should be used for none other than the designated purpose. The law was never properly implemented, and to date the government does not even have a unified database of land ownership in the country.The real estate bubble is so lucrative that most companies that have gone bankrupt because of falling business have managed to stay afloat because of the increased value of the property they own. Nepal has been growing at an average of 4% a year for the past two decades, but this is not reflected in manufacturing or productivity.“Unless we stop this vicious cycle and prevent investment in real estate speculation that is supposed to go into the productive sector, the bubble in Nepal’s economy is going to burst sooner or later,” says economist Dilli Raj Khanal.Those with ancestral property in the city centre, and those specialising in buying and selling real estate have become overnight billionaires. This is feeding the market in luxury items, mainly SUVs. In the past four months of the last fiscal year alone, despite an economic downturn, Nepal imported Rs57 billion worth of vehicles and spare parts.Imports have now risen so sharply in the past two years at a time when exports and remittances have fallen, that Nepal’s hard currency reserves have declined to their lowest level in decades, and able to finance only 6 months worth of imports. This, in turn, has increased the income gap between the poorest and richest Nepalis.Although there are no figures to prove that the gap between the have’s and have not’s has grown in Nepal, it is clear that the astronomical profits that can be made from real estate transactions have made a limited number of Nepalis extremely wealthy.One of the reasons for the real estate bubble is that the tax on land transactions in Nepal is so low. In fact, if a land is sold within five years of being bought, the seller only has to pay 5% of the capital gain tax to the government. If the land is sold after more than five years, the tax is only 2.5%. Compare this to income tax up to 36% that individuals pay in Nepal, and there is a transaction fee of 25% in most businesses.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ground-reality-of-landlessness-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Ground reality of landlessness in Nepal</a>, Rabi GiriThis is besides the tendency to bribe officials to undervalue the rate at which property is sold, so as to reduce the taxable amount. In fact staff at the land tax office as what the “unofficial” amount for property sales is, presuming that it is undervalued.“Raising the tax rate for real estate transactions will immediately discourage property speculators, reduce the number of transactions, and put a check on the runaway increase in land prices,” admits Gunakar Bhatta of Nepal Rastra Bank.The reason property transactions have not gone down despite sky-rocketing real estate prices is that Nepal’s economy is run mainly through informal channels. Many unscrupulous businesses are cashing in on a weak state to get rich quick, and investing their ill-gotten wealth by laundering it through real estate.In fact the reason for the abnormal rise in land prices is the lack of state regulation, corruption and self-interest at high levels of government, says economic professor Achyut Wagle. “Real estate has become the ideal venue to park wealth earned through corruption, so that even people who do not really need land are investing in it,” he adds. “And since one does not need to work anymore to get rich quick, the real estate speculation has also killed entrepreneurship.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208609c7e80680e0b54e2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1001"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One recent example of just how high up the rot has gone is the Lalita Niwas scam at Baluwatar where government property was transferred to private ownership with collusion between the real estate mafia and senior politicians. Another is the example of real estate tycoon Ikshya Tamang who allegedly cheated hundreds of investors but was never prosecuted by the UML government of which he was a nominated MP.In his previous tenure as prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba allowed Gopal Dahit to lift a ban on fragmentation of agriculture land for housing colonies. A lot of money is said to have changed hands to allow this law to be passed. When K P Oli was prime minister, his Land Management Minister Padma Kumari Aryal lifted the ban on turning agriculture land into housing colonies, if a local  government office certified that it was not used for farming.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/owning-land-gives-former-slaves-self-respect/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Owning land gives former slaves self-respect</a>, Unnati ChaudharyThe Supreme Court ruled last year not to allow the fragmentation of land holdings for housing colonies, but in reality it never stopped. In fact just in the past year, there have been more than 500,000 new property ownership certificates distributed by dividing larger holdings. Corrupt officials are even demanding under the table payments to approve property sales where dividing up a property is legitimate.The standard operating procedure at the land tax office is that most of these transactions go through only after money exchanges hands under the table.What is the solution?Most economists agree that tightening the process through which banks finance land purchases can burst the bubble on real estate prices. For example, a house owner should not be given a loan to buy more than one property.Sujeev Shakya of the Nepal Economic Forum agrees that buying house or property other than the one a person is living in should be taxed heavily. He has another idea: slap an inheritance tax on property that is passed down from one generation to the next, as is the practice in other countries.The other measure would be a hefty increase in the currently nominal land transaction tax. “How can it be that a person who earns a living through hard work pays 36% income tax while profit from selling property is only 2.5%-5%?” asks chartered accountant Seshmani Dahal, adding that other measures like enforcing banking transactions for land sales should also be taken to ensure that the sale is not deliberately undervalued to lessen the tax amount.A lot of the unregulated buying and selling of land and speculation would also be curbed if proper urban planning is strictly enforced. Only after utilities and other facilities are installed should an area be opened for residence.The government should also be involved in building and establishing affordable housing for middle income families. The Constitution establishes the right of all citizens for decent housing, and it is up to the government to fulfill that pledge.

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Kathmandu’s unreal real estate prices

<figure><img width="1366" height="630" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410118/637205d89c7e80680e0b28dbjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Jaglal Dagaura Tharu tends to his nursery in Kailali district.</figcaption></figure>After living most of his life as a bonded labourer, Jaglal Dagaura Tharu is building a home on a plot of land that he can finally call his own. Having started a successful nursery, the former landless family is now financially independent.Jaglal, 57, was born into a life of indentured servitude with his parents who were <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nothing-to-lose-but-their-chains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bonded labourers</a> at the house of a local zamindar landlord. This traditional system of modern-day slavery known as the kamaiya system was widespread in Nepal’s western plains until it was abolished twenty years ago.The young Jaglal grew up working all day long looking after the zamindar’s livestock at the edge of the forest. At age 12, he was ‘lent’ to a neighbour’s household to slave away for three years before returning to his original ‘owner’ Shyamlal Chaudhari.He got married, had a family of his own, but continued working for the landlord with four other brothers who were all also <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Modern-day-domestic-slaves-domestic-workers,3785" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bonded labourers</a>. With no income or property of their own, they had no way of freeing themselves from a life of slavery.But in 1979, when the Nepal Punarvas Company started distributing land to landless squatters, Jaglal’s father filled in an application. Three years later, the family received a 0.3 hectare plot in Kailali. It was a start.“We made a small hut but we did not have enough to eat so I remained a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19418#.YfeHIy2B3-Y" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">kamaiya</a> for a few more years,” says Jaglal but he had already started looking at how to put the land to the best use.In 2000, he joined the District Forest Office to work in its nursery with a salary of Rs1,500 a month. Two years later, he was contracted to set up a new nursery for the office. There, for every sapling, he used to get Rs2 and his monthly income rose to Rs25,000.For the next 13 years, he worked at the Kailali District Forest Office, sent his son to a school with his earnings and even bought a piece of land. Jalal gets four batches of seeds every year in his nursery and makes up to Rs150,000 selling the seedlings. In 2018, he bought a motorcycle with the money he made from selling the seeds. <figure><img width="1366" height="630" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410118/637205db9c7e80680e0b28dcjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“When you have your own land, you reap all the benefits of your labour too, the result of my hard work is mine alone unlike when you slave away at someone else’s farm,” says Jaglal, who has managed to send a son to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/europe-now-favoured-destination-for-nepalis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Romania for work</a>, and bought another plot where he is finally building a home of his own. In July 2000, the Nepal government abolished the kamaiya system and liberated some 32,500 bonded labourers from districts in the western plains including Dang, Banke, Bardia, Kailali and Kanchanpur. Many of the former bonded labourers now have land in their own name thanks to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ground-reality-of-landlessness-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">state sponsored land distribution</a>. With better access to education and healthcare, their lifestyle has also improved. Ramkumari Chaudhari, 45, was also born into a bonded labourer family near Dhangadi. Her parents married her off when she was young to a man who was also forced into a life of indentured servitude. Ramkumari with her husband Sanjay managed to sharecrop on land from the zamindar for vegetable farming. But when the landowner saw their success, he nullified the agreement and decided to farm himself. “If you want to make something of yourself in this country and be independent, you need a land of your own,” says Ramkumari, and the couple has managed to buy a small plot for their farm with a government grant. What started as a small business with two pigs has now expanded into a large swine farm spread in 0.2 hectares of land which earns them Rs40,000 a month. Ramkumari also runs a profitable vegetable farm on the side so the pigs get to eat the excess vegetables and the farm benefits from fertiliser from the sty. “We just had a hut before, but now we have a nice house. We have also bought a tractor for our farm,” says Ramkumari. “We no longer face the kind of hardships and mistreatment we did when we were kamaiya, we work without a worry. And the best thing is that your hard work earns you money.” Ramkumari and Sanjay can now afford to send their two sons to college, but the fact that many other neighbourhood children have not been able to continue their study worries her. They risk falling back to leading a l<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-slave-to-entrepreneur/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">ife of indentured servitude</a>, she points out. Radha Chaudhari, 36, of Dhangadi municipality is also getting ready to build her own house. Her husband Navaraj was a bonded labour from birth in Rajapur of Bardia and came to this town after being freed. <figure><img width="1366" height="630" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410118/637205df9c7e80680e0b28ddjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But when the family did not receive any land, Navraj and Radha worked odd jobs to support their family. Navraj trained hard and is now a much sought-after mason.The government finally gave them a tiny plot of land near Dhangadi bazar, a prime location where they are planning to build their house and rent out the rest. “Our place is close to the market, which means better access to education, health facilities and jobs, we couldn’t be happier,” says Radha.In the two decades since they were freed, many <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Book-Review/Book-review-from-kamlari-to-lawmaker,690" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">former kamaiya</a> have found their feet. This is a success story of how former slaves have struggled to find independence, dignity and self-respect. But there are still some families who have fallen between the cracks.With the new federal system, the rehabilitation of kamaiyas was handed over to the local governments and many families found the paperwork too confusing and complicated and faced confusion and delays.There are 8,910 freed kamaiya families in the Kailali district, and most of them have been rehabilitated. But some 380 families are still waiting despite having an ID and land ownership documents.

Owning land gives former slaves self-respect

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637205299c7e80680e0b289fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1208" height="737"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>The first popularly elected government led by B P Koirala enacted the Birta Abolition Act in 1959, that required zamindars formerly granted land by the state to pay full tax. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/america-nepal-and-the-royal-coup/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/america-nepal-and-the-royal-coup/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1643077045608000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2B7iXxi6EQ44Yn6fvU7P8o">Feudal landlords opposed the move</a>, and it became one of the reasons why King Mahendra ousted Koirala in a coup d’etat on 12 December 1960.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/land-reform-in-cold-war-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/land-reform-in-cold-war-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1643077045608000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0_lFjeM84k9XkhIFJ4Ij_i">B P believed that only genuine land reform</a> would ensure that all Nepalis prospered together, and also deflect the Communism tide. But in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/putsch-ek/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/putsch-ek/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1643077045608000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3728k40jtTzbzquYVdgXVu">justifying his coup</a>, Mahendra declared that Nepal’s first democratically elected government had to be overthrown because it had “failed to work in the interest of the poor”.Today, more than six decades later, BP’s Nepali Congress that espoused social democracy is leading a governing coalition. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dance-of-democracy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sher Bahadur Deuba</a>, who once led the party’s student union, is prime minister for the fifth time.Yet, 1.5 million families representing a quarter of Nepal’s households, are still landless or have land issues. Some 53% of Nepal’s farmers own only 18% of the total cultivable land.After ousting B P, King Mahendra continued the भुमी सुधार land reform to retain international support and quell domestic discontent. But the effort was half-hearted: the landed kept their land. Mahendra and his son <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-would-still-be-a-monarchy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Birendra</a> ruled through a partyless Panchayat system for the next 30 years.Ironically, unequal land ownership (the very reason that pushed Mahendra to stage his coup) became one of the factors that led to the People’s Movement and the downfall of the Panchayat in 1990.But even after the multi-party system was restored, there was only tokenism for land rights. In 1991, a commission set up to resolve the issue was dissolved even before it could complete its work. In the past three decades, 18 more land reform commissions have been formed by democratic governments, only to fizzle out.Land ownership and rights have been weaponised time and again at election time since 1990 to win votes, but there has been no real change on the ground. The Nepali Congress, UML and Maoists are all guilty of making false promises to the landless.The Maoists made land to the tiller and just land distribution a major point in their 40-point demand to Deuba in 1996 during his first tenure as prime minister. Their main slogan to recruit young men and women to take up arms was to promise land.After all this, the landless have stopped trusting politicians who promise land. Disputes over land make up one-third of all cases in Nepal’s courts.Various factors have changed the dynamics of land today. While educated Nepalis do not want to farm and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1643077045608000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0fa06zRhqJSxyBT6Zn3rB4">migration is leaving arable land fallow</a>, remittances fuel the market in real estate, the price of which has risen exponentially.This unorganised and uncontrolled buying and selling of land has once again concentrated ownership in the hands of richer Nepalis, who have grown pheonmenally richer as property values escalate. There is a whole class of new-rich who have made their fortune through real estate speculation.This is why we have the farce of the Baluwatar real estate scandal that involves the mightiest in the land, even while a quarter of the country’s population is landless.The Gorkha empire’s expansion in the 18th century was financed by land, generals and soldiers were granted ownership of portions of the land they conquered. During the Shah reign, the royalty and courtiers could take what they wanted. During the Rana period, at least one-third of the total cultivable land in Nepal was distributed among those close to them. The Birta system may have been repealed six decades ago, but it is still intact in other forms through landlords, traders and brokers owning most property.Real estate today is booming business, and a major source of revenue for the state from taxes. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-creeps-up-surrounding-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-creeps-up-surrounding-mountains/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1643077045608000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1sT_kl8lVvxjzEaQecolxh">Urban land value appreciation</a> has made it possible for some Nepalis to become fabulously rich overnight.It is not productive when real estate speculation becomes a mainstay of the economy. It does not create jobs, and it exacerbates inequality. Private property rights effectively legitimise past injustices that parcelled out large swathes of the country to the privileged. It perpetuates discrimination and inequality, laying the seeds for future conflict.To be sure, distributing land to the landless alone does not solve their problem, nor does it erase historical discrimination. Self-respect comes from belonging to the land, giving them a sense of purpose and responsibility. It is a start. But it should be without any condition, it cannot be a publicity stunt, or ploy to pad up vote banks.If we are to safeguard the gains of the 2017 Constitution and build the pillars of the federal democratic republic from the ground up, we must pick up where B P Koirala left off 61 years ago.Translated from an Editorial in the January-February 2022 issue of <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.himalkhabar.com&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1643077045608000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0kZ1Nz-GpmZwGP7z3MsKDm">Himal Khabarpatrika </a>dedicated to the issue of land.

Ground reality of landlessness in Nepal

At 6 feet and one inch, Hira Bahadur Ghalan was exceptionally tall for a Nepali. In 1936, when people came to his Tamang village near Tistung looking for porters, they recruited him on the spot. This was no ordinary job, Hira Bahadur would lead gangs of 30 or more porters to carry cars bought by Rana rulers from Bhimphedi to Kathmandu.&nbsp; Those were the days when the only motorable roads in Nepal were in Kathmandu, but the capital was not connected to anywhere else by road. So, before cars could carry people, people had to carry cars. More Nepalis had carried cars than ridden in one. The porters were paid Rs5 for the job, and sometimes the Rana owners gave Hira Bahadur a Rs25 baksheesh. One of the cars his community helped carry was a 1939 Daimler Benz gifted by Adolf Hitler to King Tribhuvan to woo Nepal away from the British. The rusted dusty vehicle is now in the Narayanhiti Palace Museum.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur hauled cars for 25 years until his knees gave way, he died at age 90 eight years ago — the last surviving car porters of Nepal from Chitlang Valley.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur Ghalan had three sons and three daughters, one of them is Maila Kaji Lama, who at age 68, is a chauffeur in Kathmandu. His son, Manjil Lama is a pilot with Summit Air, flying to remote Himalayan airstrips. Three generations of one family worked in professions that followed a century of transportation history in Nepal. &nbsp; After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-long-and-winding-road-to-india">Tribhuvan Rajpath was finished in 1957</a> and the ropeway upgraded, Hira Bahadur was out of a job. He tilled the family farm, watching trucks and buses headed to and from Kathmandu on the hairpins.&nbsp; As a child, Maila Kaji was fascinated by cars and wished one day to be able to drive one. After he failed Grade 8, he came to Kathmandu in 1975 and got a Rs20/month job at a petrol station in Maiti Devi. “I watched King Birendra’s coronation and was impressed by the glamour of Kathmandu, and decided to stay here,” Maila Kaji says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1974" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Maila Kaji</figcaption> </figure>  Former minister Ramesh Nath Pandey used to bring his Volkswagen Beetle to the station, and Maila Kaji started taking care of his car. Later, he drove a Russian Jeep for former minister and geographer Harka Gurung. Along the way, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin colleague, and married her. “My father back in Tistung did not approve of our inter-ethnic marriage, and not speak to me for five years,” Maila Kaji recalls. Manjil Lama grew up in Kathmandu, and did well in science in school. He had wanted to go the US to become a pilot like his friends, but was denied a visa.&nbsp; “The visa officer told him I did not earn enough,” says Maila Kaji, “so I sold some property and sent Manjil to flying school in the Philippines.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537" data-rendition-name="original" width="1434" height="1754" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Manjil Lama</figcaption> </figure>  After returning to Nepal, Manjil Lama now flies Let 410s of Summit Air to difficult air strips like Lukla and Simkot, and has logged over 2,000 hours. He has to go to the Czech Republic regularly for simulator training. Says Maila Kaji Lama: “My father worked hard carrying cars to raise us, I started from scratch to become a driver to support my family, and my son is now a pilot with experience in flying in the world’s toughest terrain.” &nbsp; Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvT3iTi8yw4" target="_blank">video clip from S Dillon Ripley here</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1582" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> </figure>

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes

Sudan Gurung is dancing. It is 2009. He has an emo fringe falling over one eye and is spinning on a polished floor. His dance shows dedication — moves that take years of bruised elbows to land. The clip is 16 years old, and had been sitting in the dead archives of YouTube and old Facebook pages, watched by almost nobody. This month <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">it has 1.9 million views</a>. Because Gurung is now Home Minister, and is embroiled in a scandal barely two months into office. Within days of becoming an RSP candidate, his pre-political life became public and was put back into circulation. The b-boying, the DJ sets, and the YouTube video of him dancing in a music clip. The youth of Nepal, well-versed in snappy TikTok edits and aura compilations, immediately turned to making <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@aayvik/video/7626069452177542408">videos of Sudan Gurung's swag</a>.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178" data-rendition-name="original" width="2300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"></figure>  TikTok remixed the footage to trap beats. The comments settled on a nickname that has now crossed into everyday speech: ‘Homie Minister’. <div class="embed-block"><blockquote class="tiktok-embed" cite="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal/video/7622325255792512276" data-video-id="7622325255792512276" style="max-width: 605px;min-width: 325px;"> <section><a target="_blank" title="@yalexthwreal" href="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal?refer=embed">@yalexthwreal</a> <a title="sudangurung" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangurung?refer=embed">#sudangurung</a> new home minister of Nepal😎 <a title="fyppppppppppppppppppppppp" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/fyppppppppppppppppppppppp?refer=embed">#fyppppppppppppppppppppppp</a> <a title="sudangrg" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangrg?refer=embed">#sudangrg</a> <a title="home" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/home?refer=embed">#home</a> <a title="minister" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/minister?refer=embed">#minister</a> <a target="_blank" title="♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧" href="https://www.tiktok.com/music/original-sound-%E2%80%A2%E2%AA%A8%D0%BD-%D1%94-%CE%B1-%D1%8F-%D1%82-%E2%9D%A4%D0%BD-%CE%B1-%C2%A2-%D0%BA-%D1%94-%D1%8F-%E2%AA%A9%E2%80%A2-7308733170064231170?refer=embed">♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧</a> </section></blockquote> <script async src="https://www.tiktok.com/embed.js"></script></div> Home Minister Gurung is in charge of the Nepal Police, Armed Police Force, Department of Immigration, and the country's internal security apparatus. Calling him ‘homie’ collapses the distance between that office and the Discord server where the movement that brought him into power organised itself. What is harder to explain is why these nostalgic clips are doing the narrative work for Gurung's political standing. A teenager on a dance floor in a Thamel club, filmed before smartphones had decent cameras, is now functioning as political currency for a powerful, but embattled, home minister. The footage is not an argument. Gurung is not doing anything in it that relates to home affairs. He is just dancing. The comments compare him to <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">Korean film heroes</a>. A separate <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@tandavyt7/video/7622151050128018708">48,000-like edit</a> is captioned ‘Our New Home Minister Aura’. The replies are full of people saying they get chills listening to him speak. Political legitimacy in Nepal has been built out of many things over the last 70 years, but it has never been built out of this. The question is: what happens when the job starts demanding things his style, boldness, and swag cannot provide. Because political aura in Nepal used to be a slow harvest, now it isn’t. BP Koirala spent eight years in prison under the Panchayat. He wrote fiction at Sundari Jal. The writing survived, the prison sentences survived, and that experience became the template for what a serious Nepali politician looked like: someone the state had tried to break and failed. Legitimacy was accumulated by having their lives taken away, and refusing to bend the knee. The old mechanics of legitimacy produced politicians who could be audited. The record was made of words, dates, votes, and years behind bars. A voter who wanted to know what a leader stood for could read his writings. A journalist digging for inconsistency had somewhere to look. The system was slow, often corrupt, and frequently boring. In fact, boring used to come with the job. A minister was supposed to be slightly dull — evidence that the person was doing the unglamorous work of reading files and sitting through committee meetings. Today, boring is a disqualification. The attention economy rewards velocity and visual charge, a politician who cannot generate either does not exist in the feed, and that means does not exist at all. The legacy parties are still issuing press statements criticising the new guard in the grammar of paper trails and procedural failure. But the audience has stopped reading, they scroll for their next viral bite. Sudan Gurung, unlike the old parties, understands exactly which grammar the feed rewards. Just look at what he has been up to. On his first evening as Home Minister, he posted a photo of himself sleeping on a sofa inside the ministry. Caption: creation cannot be greater than the creator, government is not above the people. The image travelled further in 12 hours than any ministerial press release has ever done. A minister napping on a sofa, phone-shot, zero production, read by the public as evidence of a minister who had skipped the motorcade and got straight to work. Gurung used Facebook to announce, the names of former ministers and businessmen he intended to arrest. Each name was posted before the arrest, not after. The feed became the announcement venue for state security action.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="926" height="868" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"></figure>  This is not how the Ministry of Home Affairs has ever been operated. It is how a YouTuber releases a series. Sudan Gurung is a political content creator. As home minister, he is an influential influencer constantly, kinetically doing something in the visual medium. Much like Prime Minister Balendra Shah's sunglasses, Gurung's aura, authenticity and swag are a brand asset, instantly recognisable at thumbnail size. Balen's rap career supplies a pre-political archive that authenticates him the same way Gurung's DJ sets and b-boying clips authenticate him. The aesthetic is doing the work a manifesto used to do. The work is authenticity, and the strategy is auramaxxing. The emo fringe predates the ministry. The DJ sets predate Hami Nepal. The b-boying predates the earthquake, the NGO, the September uprising, the interim cabinet, all of it. Whatever Gurung is now, he was already that person before the office existed. This is the real spectacle of the Homie Minister: authenticity. Nepal’s youth have grown up watching heavily-polished, talking-point ministers speak in a language aimed at nobody in particular, But this grainy archival clip of the current Home Minister from 2009 is honest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit NT"></figure>  The effect has transcended the GenZ. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@ektapokharel/video/7623242573481561365">A TikTok trend </a>captioned NOT ONLY OUR HOME MINISTER, WE ARE ALSO FROM THAT ERA now has <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@sonykhadka/video/7624106790266948872">millennials posting their own</a> archive photos from the same period, aligning themselves with Gurung's pre-political aesthetic. The aura is doing <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@_thakuri/video/7623397397556645141">cross-generational work</a>. It is a shared legibility, spanning at least 15 years of Nepali youth culture, and the current Home Minister is standing at its centre. The traditional politician’s entire adult life is a performance of identity. Every photograph is lit for the media, every statement is vetted. The persona is the product, and the product has been in development for 30 years. This makes the old guard legible but, suspect in the attention economy. A generation raised on authenticity-as-currency reads the decades of careful performance as evidence of something to hide. The polish is the problem. The nostalgic Sudan Gurung party clips invert this. The polish is absent. The footage cannot be performance aimed at the viewer, because the viewer did not exist in 2009 and neither did the political stakes. The clip is therefore read as real, in a way a press conference can never be. It is just a kid dancing, and he happened to grow up to be the Home Minister. But Sudan Gurung's job is not to go viral. The Ministry of Home Affairs requires the person running it to file a complete asset declaration and to avoid holding financial interests in entities that might come before the state. None of this work is content. A correctly filed asset declaration does not get remixed into a trap beat. A functioning immigration database is not a TikTok. The paperwork that constitutes actual governance is structurally boring in exactly the way the old parties are structurally boring, and for the same reason. It is the slow, procedural, checkable apparatus that the old system was built to produce and that the new system has not yet learned to replace. And it is ironic that it is painstaking follow-the-money paper trail investigative journalists in the legacy media who have uncovered the evidence. You cannot auramaxx your way out of a share registry. You cannot post your way past a conflict-of-interest statute. No amount of fire outfits and wild DJ transitions does anything for you when a journalist pulls the initial shareholder list of a micro insurance company and finds your name at number 49. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@blox.drop/video/7622173520981658900">Auramaxxing was engineered</a> for the mechanics of reaching office. It is the reason Sudan Gurung is Home Minister and Gagan Thapa is not. The question that has not yet been tested, and is now being put to public test, is whether the same weapon works when the terrain changes. The terrain does change when you assume power. TWO CLOCKS Two clocks are running, and they do not sync. The first clock was built for auramaxxing. A clip posted at eight in the morning peaks by noon. A sofa photo is already remixed before the minister has left the building. The feedback loop is fast and legible, and a politician playing this clock gets real-time data on what to post next. The old guard never learned to read it, which is a large part of why they lost the election. The second clock is the one the ministry actually runs on. It measures in quarters, court calendars, and the slow grind of investigation files moving between offices. A share registry takes weeks to pull. A money-laundering case moves at the speed of the prosecutor's office, which is to say, it often does not appear to move at all, until one morning it does. The second clock does not care whether the minister is currently trending. These two clocks have collided. The first one made Sudan Gurung home minister in weeks. The second is pulling out documents that may take months to fully surface and years to adjudicate. The mechanics that won the office are not the same that determine whether the office holds. This is the asymmetry. A politician whose legitimacy is built on <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@s.u.m.e.e/video/7622165783254158613">high velocity videos</a> is structurally exposed to a process that runs slower than the news cycle, because the archive of aesthetic proof was not engineered to answer documentary evidence. It was engineered to displace the demand for documentary evidence in the first place. When that demand returns, as it always does once a politician takes office, the digital archive keeps performing, but the documents keep getting uncovered. And the two tracks do not communicate. The old guard knew this clock because they had no other clock to know. What they lost in charisma they gained in durability: a politician built over 20 years of parliamentary record is harder to dislodge with a single document because they have already survived thousands of documents. The new guard has not been stress-tested against its own paper trail. Sudan Gurung is now being tested. If he survives this, and he might, a new template will have been proven. A politician can enter office on the strength of a dance clip, face a paper trail that would have ended the career of a politician in a previous era of Nepali politics, and continue to govern because the public has decided that an old dance clip is more persuasive than the hard copy document of the company registrar. The clip is still in circulation, the sofa photo still reads as sincerity. The arrest of a former prime minister that the courts reversed has faded from the feed, which runs faster than judicial reversal, and that is the whole point. If Sudan Gurung does not survive it, a different lesson gets written. Auramaxxing turns out to be a weapon that works in one direction only: it gets you the job, and then it leaves you exposed. The movement that installed Gurung in the name of ending elite capture will have to decide whether its own hero is subject to the same audit it demanded of everyone else. If the answer is yes, the movement retains its moral coherence. If the answer is no, the movement becomes the thing it replaced, only faster. Both outcomes are live. If Gurung walks through this, the technique gets copied. If he does not, the technique gets revised. Whether the gap closes on him, or he rewrites the gap, is the thing to watch.

When Aura meets Audit

Only 70 years ago, Kathmandu was the isolated capital of a country that had no modern surface transport link with the rest of the world.&nbsp; The idea of building a road to connect Nepal with India actually first came up during the last years of the Rana regime, after the British had left India. Construction actually began in 1952, and the serpentine route took five years to complete.&nbsp; Named Tribhuvan Rajpath, after the reigning king who initiated it, the alignment was from Thankot (1,301 m) at the western edge of the Kathmandu Valley to Nagdunga, Naubise, Tistung, Palung, Daman, Sim Bhanjyang (2,504m), Lamidanda, and Bhainse.&nbsp; At Bhainse, the highway joined the existing road to Bhimphedi and it was another 31km to Hetauda and Amlekhganj. There was a railway line between Amlekhganj and Birganj.&nbsp; After regular bus and truck service from Raxaul to Kathmandu began in 1961, the entire road popularly became known as the Tribhuvan Rajpath.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The village of Chitlang on the main route to Kathmandu before the Rajpath was built. In the distance is the Chandragiri ridge above Thankot. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Chronology&nbsp;</h2> (Based on US State Department cables and media reports) November 1945: Gen Bahadur SJB Rana asked an American official if a road could be constructed from the Indian border to Kathmandu. Nepal wanted such a road built across the mountains after first constructing an East-West artery road in the Tarai, and the government was interested in purchasing US surplus war equipment. Gen Rana inquired if there were US firms who could conduct a survey. April 1947: The Nepal government told a US official it was important to upgrade the 20-mile trail from Bhimphedi over the mountains to the Kathmandu Valley into an all-weather road and sought an estimate from the US for doing so. May 1948: Bijaya SJB Rana informed a US official that a survey for a one-lane motor road between Kathmandu and the Tarai had been completed. The road was to follow the Bagmati River to Makwanpur, then connect at Bhimphedi with the road to Amlekhgunj. The road from Tripureswor to Bhainse along the Bagmati River and via Bhimphedi would have been about 60km. (The distance from Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath is 122 km.)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The road climbing the hills toward its destination of Kathmandu. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  July 1948: The government decided to go ahead and build a motorable road from Amlekhganj to Thankot and complete it in two years. December 1948: Construction of the motor road from Kathmandu to Amlekhgunj via the Bagmati River corridor was started. April 1949: Gen Singha SJB Rana told a US official that the motor road from Kathmandu to the Tarai and the Indo-Nepal border would be completed by the spring of 1950. February 1950: Nepal sanctioned Rs300,000 to make the 6-foot-wide road from Kathmandu along the Bagmati River to Hetauda. Of this, Rs100,000 was allocated for road-building material and machinery. Subsequently, the road would be developed into a broader motorable road at a cost of Rs7.5 million. February 1952: Nepal’s budget speech noted that a plan was underway for a road between Bhainse and Kathmandu. PM Matrika Prasad Koirala laid a foundation stone near Teku for construction of the ‘Kathmandu Hetauda Roadway’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Rajpath winding its way north of Bhainse. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  February 1952: A party of Indian engineers came to Nepal to determine the best route for a road from Raxaul to Kathmandu. March 1952: Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru told Parliament: “So far as India’s security is concerned, we consider the Himalayan mountains as our border.” Ministry of External Affairs official (S.N. Hakar) told a US official that the Indian government was willing to proceed with constructing the Raxaul-Kathmandu road and had sent a survey party to determine the most suitable mountain route. May 1952: Swiss experts had made surveys for a proposed new road between Bhimphedi and Thankot. Nepal government requested financial help to build the road, and India was considering the project.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>With a constant stream of trucks, buses and jeeps, the narrow Rajpath once was Nepal's busiest highway. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  Summer 1952: Work on a new road was at a standstill, so Nepal asked India for assistance. Indian engineers surveyed two routes: one following the Bagmati River, the other road through Daman that was later adopted. July 1952: Nepal’s Ministry of Planning decided to construct a road between Kathmandu and Raxaul, awaiting Cabinet approval soon. Prime Minister Matrika Koirala said the proposed road was longer than necessary, but it was a better route ‘for strategic reasons’, because it did not require many bridges. August 1952: King Tribhuvan said road construction from Kathmandu to Bhimphedi would “begin soon”. September 1952: An Indian Military Team began construction of the Kathmandu-Bhainse road without a formal agreement being signed with the Nepal government.&nbsp; February 1953: The Indian Ambassador said the road would be hard surfaced within a year. September 1953: Prime Minister Matrika Koirala inspected the completion of a ‘jeepable track’. December 1953: The road was named ‘Tribhuvan Rajpath’. April 1954: Reports circulated that Swiss engineers criticised the alignment, arguing it would have been easier, faster, and cheaper to build over the existing foot trail between Bhimphedi and Thankot through Kulekhani. July 1954: Heavy monsoon rain damaged much of the roadway that had been built.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="1123" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Crown Prince Mahendra inspecting construction progress on the Tribhuvan Rajpath in October 1954. Photo: ROYAL PALACE</figcaption> </figure>  November 1954: The Indian ambassador said flood damage was so great that the road would be delayed by two years. May 1955: Twenty military trucks brought rice from Amlekhganj to Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath. King Tribhuvan died in Zurich. December 1956: A gravel road was completed, with trucks and buses plying between Amlekhganj and Kathmandu. December 1956: Nepal government abolished regulations that required Nepali nationals to carry permits for travel within Nepal, except for women below the age of 45. 1957: Reduction in price of goods carried to Kathmandu by truck: Sugar, Rs0.13 per kg. Wheat flour Rs0.13 per kg. Kerosene Rs0.25 per litre. February 1957: An article in The Motherland newspaper in Kathmandu noted urgent action was needed to avoid Kathmandu being cut off from the Tarai during the monsoon. The correspondent wrote, ‘In a recent journey from Amlekhganj I found that almost all the bridges are in a very bad state…Now, because of the dry rivers the scores of vehicles that ply the road cross the rivers on the water level. But during monsoons… these rivers will be impossible to cross without bridges. On the road itself, landslides and big holes have made the journey a great undertaking.” April 1957: The first regular passenger bus left Amlekhganj at 12:30PM and arrived in Kathmandu completing a journey of 14 hours.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df" data-rendition-name="original" width="5211" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Daman, one of the highest points on the Rajpath, often saw snow in winter. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c" data-rendition-name="original" width="648" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Travelers could view the Himalayas from a view tower at Daman. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  June 1957: Eight thousand Nepali workers and about 500 Indian Army personnel were at work on the road.&nbsp; 30 June 1957: India officially handed the road over to Nepal. India had spent INR32.5 million on the project.&nbsp; January 1958: The road from Amlekhganj to Bhainse was upgraded. July 1961: The gravel road from Raxaul to Birganj was blacktopped. Trucks began transporting goods from Raxaul directly to Kathmandu, avoiding the need for transshipment from train to truck in Amlekhganj, or use the ropeway from Bhimphedi. 1961: Passengers could travel from Raxaul to Kathmandu in a day, whereas it took a week by train to Amlekhganj, bus to Bhimphedi and then on foot. September 1962: Nepal’s 3-Year Plan aimed at broadening and black-topping the road between Bhainse and Raxaul, bypassing the Chure tunnel, and constructing several bridges along the route. 1963: Travelers going to Kathmandu by land: Road, 158,000, Nepal Government Railway, 66,500. Railway passenger service ended in June 1965.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1344" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>A bus providing ‘deluxe service’ in 1963 is ready to leave Amlekhganj for Kathmandu. Note the railway tracks of the Nepal Government Railway. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1352" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Vehicles found it difficult to pass on many parts of the Rajpath in 1963. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>  1965: Tribhuvan Highway was considered a useful addition to Nepal’s economic infrastructure, but it could not act as a prime mover in the nation’s economic development. It did play a major role in the 1960s in transporting material and equipment needed to implement development projects in the Kathmandu Valley. September 1966: Nepal took over maintenance of the Tribhuvan Rajpath from the Indian Aid Mission.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397" data-rendition-name="original" width="1764" height="1184" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Trees still lined the Rajpath near Thankot in 1967. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  1971: A UN-Nepal study said the best alignment for an alternative road was from Kathmandu, Pharping, Kulekhani, Bhimphedi to Bhainse. 1975: Nepal's Department of Roads’ engineer concluded: ‘The Tribhuvan Rajpath has been built without design speed consideration… The pavement was not constructed to any designed standard… irrespective of quality of material, and later the road was black topped without consideration of traffic intensity and load-bearing capacity of sub-base… utilisation of low-quality material in the Bhainse-Thankot section… Quality control was neither maintained in Bhainse-Thankot nor the Bhainse-Raxaul section. Local materials were used irrespective of their quality to complete the work in the earliest possible time and in the cheapest possible manner. Brick work was done in negligible quantity. Cement used was ordinary portland cement…’ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2368" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Bhainse in 2017. The road divided here, one going to Bhimphedi on the right, the main road proceeding to Kathmandu on the left. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294" data-rendition-name="original" width="649" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Highway info NT"> </figure>  Even 70 years after it was built, there is still speculation about India's security concerns vis-a-vis China, and how Indian Army engineers purposely made the road longer than it needed to be over the 2,500 Sim Bhanjyang pass instead of following the river route.&nbsp; There is also some evidence that although the Rana regime had first requested the US for help with the highway, Nehru did not want the Americans involved in Nepal. Which is why the Tribhuvan Highway became an Indian military project.&nbsp; There was similar concern from India about the Kodari Highway linking Kathmandu to China, and King Mahednra is famously supposed to have said: "Communism will not come here in a taxi."&nbsp; Geopolitics still affects Nepal's strategic highways. After decades, links to China are still rough and often blocked. Kathmandu-Tarai Fast Track is delayed by years, and not expected to be completed during this decade. Trucks and buses still bypass the Tribuvan Highway with a 200km detour via Mugling because the other alternative routes like the Tika Bhairav or Chhaimale routes are not suitable for heavy vehicles.&nbsp; The shortcut through Chitlang that the Swiss proposed in the 1950s is still too difficult. And a 25km section of the Japanese-built BP Highway to the eastern Tarai has been knocked out by the 202 flood. Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the fourth instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.

land-ownership