<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a66fa9c7e80680e0599b4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1081"/><figcaption>Photo : BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Nepal is recognised as the only low-income country to have made rapid progress cutting poverty and boosting public health and education in recent decades. But can these achievements be sustained in the 2020-2030 decade?The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/Saving-one-mother-at-a-time,816" target="_blank" rel="noopener">country’s maternal mortality rate decreased</a> from 539 deaths per 100,000 live births to 239 deaths between 1996 and 2016. The adult literacy rate rose from 20% in the 1980s to 67% in 2018, and the proportion of Nepalis living below the poverty line <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-great-income-divide/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">dropped from 42% to 21% in two decades</a>.Yet the poorest still <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/federalism-leaves-nepals-medical-sector-ailing/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">do not have access to affordable healthcare</a>. The school dropout rate is as high as the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=41#.XftNv5MzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">enrolment rate</a>. In urban centres, people breathe <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">some of the foulest air in the world</a>, reducing their life expectancy by up to four years. Many lack safe drinking water.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=38023&amp;preview_nonce=024823c344&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Towards 2030</a><a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=38038&amp;preview_nonce=e8166bf726&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Another decade to get it right,</a> Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=38061&amp;preview_nonce=012fb23553&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal in the 2020s,</a> Sewa BhattaraiLocal elections in 2017, after a gap of 20 years, were supposed to close these gaps by delivering accountable, elected leaders. Two years later, the euphoria has evaporated. The state of the state remains stagnant.“The elections helped us rebuild grassroots democracy and decentralise power, but the lack of accountability at all levels of government continues to be a major challenge,” says Min Bahadur Shahi of the National Planning Commission (NPC). “This is why the primary agenda of the NPC’s 15th periodic plan is governance reform, controlling corruption and promoting transparency.”As we step into the new decade, there are questions about Nepal’s progress in human development, including whether we are on track to meet the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and achieve double-digit growth. Reaching these targets will require huge investments in healthcare, schools and nutrition. With the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health-makes-nepalis-poorer/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">emergence of non-communicable diseases</a>, Nepal now faces a double burden: rising rates of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/diabetes-in-south-asia,3018" target="_blank" rel="noopener">diabetes</a>, cardiovascular diseases and cancer, which are expensive to treat, while the poor continue to die of easily curable infections.Said Sanjib Sharma, doctor at the BP Koirala Institute for Health Sciences in Dharan: “Our efforts now should be on strengthening primary health care and prevention and early detection of diseases using existing tools, as well as new technologies such as artificial intelligence for virtual expert consultation and drug delivery.”Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=38051&amp;preview_nonce=38f8426e6c&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal in 2030,</a> Sanghamitra Subba<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=38046&amp;preview_nonce=d2d7129548&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A future written in the stars,</a> Sanghamitra SubbaDespite poverty falling by half, one-third of Nepali children <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nearly-half-of-nepali-children-still-malnourished/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">are still malnourished</a>. Anaemia among women has actually increased in recent years. The government’s Multi-sectoral Nutrition Plan, developed in 2012, works to improve maternal and child health, vaccination rates and malnutrition.“Development in Nepal is still synonymous with roads, but investing in early childhood development is equally important, it is a component of development,” said Kiran Rupakheti of the NPC, which wants nutrition programs to reach the grassroots.Even as literacy rates rise, gender disparity is expected to continue in the coming decade. As female literacy improves, for instance, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/child-marriage-in-nepal-eloped-at-13-mother-by-17/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">child marriage</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19596#.XftPh5MzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">girls’ dropout rates</a> will persist. Experts say improving the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">quality of instruction</a> at community schools, encouraging female students in technical fields and promoting applied education should be priority areas in the 10 years ahead.Nepal is expected to graduate from lower-middle-income country status by 2030, but that is unlikely if the SDGs goals are not met. For this, the government will need to spend $1billion a year in infrastructure alone. Nepal is hoping to sustain <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/guest-editorial-Nepal-economic-growth,923" target="_blank" rel="noopener">double-digit growth</a> of above 10% and achieve per capita income of $1,595 by the end of the decade.“I’m hopeful about our prospects but if we uplift the economic status of women, who make up more than half of the population, we will get there sooner,” said Saru Joshi, gender and development expert.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/05/24/bleak-economic-report/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A 2017 World Bank report</a>, however, stated that if present trends continue Nepal will not reach its middle-income target. It pointed out that despite rapid reduction in the poverty rate, the country’s development path has not led to economic growth but perpetuated a shortage of jobs at home, which in turn is fuelling further <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/reducing-labour-pain/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">outmigration</a>. And while remittance accounts for one-third of the national GDP, it is a symptom of deep-seated, chronic problems.Planners say that a slew of new hydropower and large infrastructure projects planned for the next 10 years, a boom in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/guiding-nepals-tourism-industry/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">tourism and the service sector</a>, and better connectivity will create jobs at home, discouraging youth from seeking employment elsewhere.“We know our targets are ambitious but we also have the most favourable environment to achieve it. There is finally stability, the present growth is already at 7%, some <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/decentralising-hydropower/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">major hydropower projects</a> are taking off and we have made huge investments in information technology,” said Rupakheti.Shahi forecasts optimistically: “The 2020s will be a progressive decade of sustainable and just development. There will be prosperity along with social justice. There will be double-digit growth, increased investment from the government and the focus will be on quality, not quantity.”

Sonia Awale

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How will Nepal develop in the next decade?

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636922199c7e80680e03a10cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Bikram Rai</figcaption></figure>Nepal has made dramatic improvements in literacy rates and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/performance-legitimacy,3505" target="_blank" rel="noopener">school enrollment</a> over the past 20 years. The same <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=857#.W5obd84zaUm" target="_blank" rel="noopener">cannot be said for the quality of education</a>, however.Teacher training just focuses on how to use existing sloppily-produced text books to prepare for exams rather than the underlying philosophy behind the curriculum. Assessments are used to catch and punish students, rather than to understand if they are learning properly.Though not perfect, educators agree that Nepal’s curriculum is sufficiently good, and includes details about skills students need to learn in every subject. But ineffective implementation of the curriculum impedes true learning, and jeopardises the future of the country's young minds.Most teachers are oblivious of the difference between curriculum and textbooks, so teaching primarily becomes making students memorise these books. Rajendra Dahal of Shikshak magazine says the domination of textbook-learning means that curriculum aims do not reach classrooms.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369221c9c7e80680e03a10djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1027"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Textbooks have now become a part of the problem, perpetuating the gap between classrooms and the curriculum. Experts say a good curriculum should not be driven by textbooks or exams, rather by an overall vision that tries to identify the country’s needs. Learning should be experiential and related to the students’ world, and what they identify with.Says one Nepali teacher trainer: “Present teacher training is only about how to use textbooks, not why and how to realise the goals of the curriculum. Teachers have to know how children learn, as well as the purpose and goal of the curriculum.”Beyond this, textbooks are often <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/school-textbooks-in-Nepal-are-outrageously-bad,2475" target="_blank" rel="noopener">shoddy, full of mistakes and poorly written</a> and produced. When teachers focus primarily on such textbooks, the problem is compounded.Students are therefore <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Learning-from-experience,2038" target="_blank" rel="noopener">deprived of the experiential learning</a> that comes from the world around them. Instead of embracing this, the education system dismisses students’ reality and instills an illusion that rote learning from a textbook and sitting exams is a proper education.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369221f9c7e80680e03a10ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="490" height="688"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922219c7e80680e03a10fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="340">“Classroom models must now change to better facilitate learning. Students themselves are a rich trove of knowledge, not just the empty vessels we have treated them as ,” explains Lava Deo Awasthi, former Secretary of Education. He adds that teachers went through a traditional learning system themselves and have to unlearn the style they learnt at school.The National Center for Educational Development (NCED) has been launching periodical teacher training programs, bringing teachers up to speed on pedagogy, using of teaching resources and conducting activities.“Many teachers now have access to training, but teachers must also implement what they learn,” says Diwakar Chapagain of NCED. “Teachers can give excellent model classes, but if one happens to stumble into a regular class of the same teacher, then the quality of teaching is not great.”Textbook improvement is just a component of overall quality of education. And teachers alone cannot be blamed, they need more support and training to help understand their roles.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922239c7e80680e03a110jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="275">“So the focus must shift to mobilising teacher training materials and library books to promote better learning,” says Shanta Dixit of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19131#.W5ob084zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Rato Bangala Foundation</a>, which is involved in upgrading the capacity of teachers in government schools. “Motivated teachers will not just paraphrase textbooks, but foster critical thinking and creativity to fulfill curriculum aims.”With local governments now in place, the opportunity to improve gaps between classrooms and curriculum is immense. However, Kathmandu has been reluctant to hand over power over education to local governments.<h4>Examining examinations</h4><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922259c7e80680e03a111jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Every year in June, there are news flashes about who passed and failed the high school SEE tests. But how good are these exams?Evaluation <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/grading-the-grades,3124" target="_blank" rel="noopener">was changed into grading system</a> to make it more descriptive and holistic, but all that happened was that numbers were converted into letter-grades. Exams still fail to capture the true sense of a students’ ability, and SEE questions are still primarily memory based.The curriculum also provides guidelines for evaluation, and to receive an A+, a student must possess exceptional skills of ‘problem-solving, creativity, critical expression and participation’. But exams do not measure any such abilities.Many teachers and parents believe that good exam results indicate quality, so teachers teach to enable students to pass the existing exams, making them memorise facts and practice on past papers. But if exams themselves were to improve to ask analytical questions, students would do even more poorly because they are only taught to regurgitate text book content.“Without teachers being trained to foster skills and thoughts in students, we are now limited to asking traditional questions,” says Chandra Mani Paudel of the National Examinations Board.Paudel says he has started work to change this by improving questions so that they will measure application and thinking skills, beyond what is just memory-based. The Board has already started training teachers on better question-setting.Paudel says he plans to completely change the existing focus by empowering teachers, preparing quality questions and researching about how it affects students. He adds: “This is new and will take time. It will also need support from the Education Ministry to take it forward.”

After quantity, Nepal's education needs quality

Nepal’s month-long cricket carnival ended on a sunny Saturday in Kathmandu with a final game in which the Lumbini Lions dominated the Sudurpaschim Royals with both bat and ball.&nbsp; The Royals were bowled out for an embarrassing 85, thanks to Namibian Ruben Trumplemann’s three wickets for three runs, and captain Rohit Paudel’s hat-trick in the eleventh over. Only opener Ishan Pandey’s 33 run-innings was of any note.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="909" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1345" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  The Lions came out with virtually no pressure on them, and Dinesh Adhikari’s 42 off 13 including 27 off the first over bowled by Dipendra Singh Airee won the match. Rohit Paudel came in to finish the match calmly, with 11 overs to spare, scoring two stylish fours and a six before holing out with the Lions on 83.&nbsp; The Lions took comically long to get the final two runs to win the game, losing one more wicket. But it was merely a matter of time, and a single ended the Royal’s misery.&nbsp; As dusk fell, the big fluffy lion mascot was on the field dapping up the Lions as red fireworks went off and Lumbini fans leaped from their seats in the packed stands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  This capped off an incredible run from the Lions who had finished dead last in NPL Season 1, and had only one win and three losses after four games. They won the remaining three, finishing fourth, barely qualifying.&nbsp; This meant that they had to play an eliminator last week against the Kathmandu Gorkhas and then a qualifier against the popular Biratnagar Kings, whose squad included Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. They won both in style. For the Royals, however, this was the second disappointing final in a row after being the best team in the group stage in both seasons of the NPL. National team batsman Binod Bhandari had had an excellent tournament for the Royals, but was in tears at having come this far again and fallen short.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  Despite the final being disappointingly less action-packed for the neutral viewer, the final marked the second successful execution of the NPL. The addition of seats and floodlights at the TU Cricket Stadium overlooking Kathmandu made evening games possible and improved the experience for fans.&nbsp; The floodlights also made for some gorgeous photography as the sun set behind Chandragiri, illuminating the Himalaya to the north in gradually fading shades of orange.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adam Rossington’s 323 runs, including a century, and Sandeep Lamichhane’s 17 wickets were the standout individual performances across the tournament in the past month.&nbsp; The tournament brought out characters much loved by the vociferous crowd, including ‘Taklu’ Irish commentator Andrew Leonard who worked in a Dhaka Topi, British presenter Jess Crowe who donned a Sari for the final, and Chitwan Rhinos’ charismatic mascot Mr Gaida who entertained the crowd with enthusiastic nonstop dancing.&nbsp; The tournament was such a draw that the university grounds looked like a carnival with food and merchandise stalls. The capacity 10,000 stadium drew such a crowd that Kathmandu streets were relatively quiet on Saturday with people also watching the game live on tv at home.&nbsp; Kathmandu’s residents were genuinely delighted at being able to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/cricket-carnival">a Nepali cricket tournament</a>, and not about the Indian or English Premier Leagues. And while everyone appreciated the cricket no matter who was playing, fans showed up for their provinces in loud numbers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The organisers having proven themselves, future NPLs may need more stadiums in other provinces, even better overseas players.&nbsp; Sambhav Sirohiya of the Kathmandu Media Group ambitiously tweeted that he believes that the league could already become the second most valuable franchise cricket league NEXT SEASON, especially if the government would loosen up its regulations of advertising, especially that of alcohol. Nepali cricketers and fans are now better prepared for the T20 World Cup in India and Sri Lanka in February, with the experience of playing in the NPL and with the access to world-class cricket talent and seeing how they go about excelling at the sport.&nbsp;

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

People like myself were too young during the decade of the Maoist War to remember its horrors. We often wonder what life was truly like back then. Perhaps the closest we have come to experiencing a national crisis of that scale – with the protests, violence, curfews, and political maneuvering – was the GenZ movement in September. How did people cope? What did they fear? What was it like in the cities and &nbsp;villages? How was it that the king still held so much power? What motivated the guerrillas? And, how did &nbsp;ordinary people adjust and endure the war? My curiosity about the war that ended 20 years ago &nbsp;was met with a rollercoaster of emotions with Monica Rana’s debut novel, The Paths We Choose. The novel is not a retelling of events from the vantage of leaders, rebels. It is not about the violence, but a carefully curated perspective of ordinary people caught up in it. It is a glimpse into how the war altered or defined their paths. This is the 'People’s War' from the people’s own perspective. Readers are immediately invested into the lives of two central characters, the sister duo, Sumnima and Rita. The elder radiating from the beginning with her brave and cunning aura, and the latter, more timid and obedient, much of her time absorbed in awe of her sister. The writer’s language flows as effortlessly as the sisters’ strides up the hills to steal mangoes from Dhire Dai’s trees, only to race back down to Rato Mato, carrying us through their journey into adolescence. Amidst the rolling hills, mango trees, life is filled with laughter, adventures, and everyday banter, scenes so serene that they carry an unsettling calm that hints at what lies ahead. Village life is not all painted in romantic hues. The stark reality of poverty, subsistence, and contrast with the comfort of city living are never far away. Amidst these reminders, there runs a humbling truth: happiness once rested on small things, not on the material excess that define urban life. As the pages turn, the title begins to resonate: two sisters, once bound by the same bloodline, shared dreams, and the same roof, are caught in the crosshairs of war and forced onto separate paths. One by choice, and the other by necessity. The story unfolds with the seasons: the relentless monsoon rains, the scorching heat of summer, and a liberating winter that carries bittersweet truths. The year is 2001, as the insurgency intensifies. Against this backdrop, the cousins’ lives diverge. Sumnima is drawn into the rebels’ ranks to 'fight for equality and freedom', while Rita is uprooted, carried across distances, and placed in Seto Bangala as a helping hand among the higher-ups, in her family’s desperate attempt to secure her a better life after their village is reduced to a 'ghost city' by violent attacks. There are betrayals and beginnings, high palaces and humble hills, royals and rurals, identity and ideology, loss and lament, distance and discovery. Through upheavals, tears, and struggles, one thing remains constant: both sisters wonder about the other. They care. They long to reconnect. They hold fast to the dream they once shared to open a guesthouse in their village someday. A dream to simply live with no fear. To be free. To be happy. And, to be together. The writing illuminates vital themes: innocent people caught up in strife, the vast chasm of class from royals dining on silver plates to villagers back home hiding their last grain to save it from looters. And discrimination so stark it was as if people carried labels on their foreheads, marked by caste, skin colour, and gender. The sisters eventually reunite, but their journey is not an easy one, and what lies ahead is far from the future either of them once imagined. One might romanticise it as fate, or might recoil at the harsh reality Monica Rana lays bare: it is often the innocent who bear the heaviest burdens of war. Civilians are trapped between warring sides, enduring hunger, displacement, and violence through no fault of their own. Wars continue to rage across the world. Though the novel does not particularly focus on exposing the horrifying depths of war crimes, it remains a timeless reminder of what the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish once said: “The war will end, and leaders will shake hands. The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son. And those children will keep waiting for their hero father. I don’t know who sold our homeland, but I saw who paid the price.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The paths we choose book review"> </figure>

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My father’s son

The war between people