After I joined the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16458">United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN</a>) in June 2007 as the Language and Admin Assistant, I was assigned to the Arms Monitor section in Nepalganj. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14221">UNMIN</a> was established by the UN Security Council after the end of the Maoist conflict to monitor and implement the Comprehensive Peace Accord of 2006. Aside from other peacekeeping work, UNMIN maintained and administered <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17163">demobilised Maoist guerrillas</a> in seven main and 21 satellite <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17020">camps across Nepal</a>.
My main role in Nepalganj was to assist the international Sector Commander during meetings with various officials in the Mid-western region, including CDOs of various districts, politicians, security personnel from the police and army.
The first meeting of the Jordanian Sector Commander was at the Nepal Army barrack in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bardia-s-birds">Bardia</a>. Our group consisted of 9 people from the Arms Monitor section from various countries. The Jordanian’s English was easy to understand but the accents of others was harder to comprehend.
Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lost-in-translation"> Lost in translation</a>, Alisha Sijapati
We received a warm welcome from the Nepal Army, and the Battalion Commander explained the situation in the area, and gave us a tour of the base. I was nervous, but thought I had handled the interpretation well enough. Following the meeting, the soldiers served us breakfast.
Inside the personal dining room of the Battalion Commander, I noticed sandwiches, sliced mangoes, Coke, toast, jam, and butter laid out on the table. As we were getting ready to begin, a soldier approached the Commander and whispered something in his ear. The Commander then looked at me and asked, “लोकल कुखुराको मासु र चिउरा खान्छन् कि सोध्नु त?”
I turned to the Jordanian Sector Commander and was relaying the question but got stuck, “Would you like to eat local chicken with...”
Looking back at the Commander I asked: “चिउरालाई के भन्छन् अङ्ग्रेजीमा?” He found it hilarious that I did not know what चिउरा was is in English, and said, “Bitten Rice, हैन त?” He responded as if I had confirmed his unofficial translation. I then finished my sentence to the Sector Commander, asking whether he would like local chicken with “bitten” rice.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/mai-commin-sir-qfdjg2uw">"Mai commin, Sir?"</a>, Anbika Giri
Being an interpreter was fun because of gaffes like that that are funny in hindsight. The international staff of the Arms Monitor section were friendly, and were understanding of my difficult sometimes interpreting their English accents. They spoke in brief, simple sentences to make it easy for me.
After the ‘bitten rice’ episode, one day our team was being led by a Swedish military officer for a meeting with the Senior Superintendent of the Nepal Police. We arrived at his station, but he was not there because his force had been busy evicting members of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16873">Maoist Young Communist League (YCL)</a> from a house where they were occupying.
Luckily, both sides resolved the situation through dialogue, and the tension subsided. After meeting the YCL leader, we wanted to get the Police’s side of the story. When the SSP finally arrived, he looked preoccupied and we began promptly once he took his seat.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19640">"If I were to tell you everything I know about Prachanda ..."</a>
As I was translating his lengthy introduction of himself into a more concise version, I mistakenly referred to him as a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) rather than an SSP, which seemed to upset him. He asked me to repeat his full introduction correctly, including details about his long and illustrious career.
I quickly apologised and translated his introduction accurately. The Swedish army officer was seated across from him, jotting down notes. The SSP could read his English notes, and instructed me to tell the Swede to write down everything. (“मेरो पुरा परिचय लेख्न भन”)
I told the SSP politely that I was just the interpreter and could not tell the UNMIN officer what to write and not to write in his notebook. The short meeting ended, and the SSP insisted again that I tell the Swedish army officer to add a few more sentences of his introduction to his notes, and not just write ‘SSP’. (“एक दुई वाक्य थप्न भन्नु । ठ्यास्स एसएसपी मात्र त के लेखेको ।”
I held back my laughter because there was no way I could translate “ठ्यास्स” into English. There just is not an equivalent word, and it would need a whole sentence to get the thought across: “Perfunctorily just jot down the bare minimum and get it over with”, or words to that effect.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">From humiliation to humility</a>, Anbika Giri
Having a limited English vocabulary, making tons of grammatical errors, and feeling nervous were even more challenging when meeting politicians. It was hard to figure out where politicians put full stops and commas in their sonorous speeches.
Once in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/northwestern-tip-of-nepal-Humla,3430#google_vignette">Simikot of Humla district</a>, I was interpreting speeches at a gathering of over 100 members from various political parties. Everyone spoke passionately as if it was their last chance to be heard. I struggled to understand the local dialect – this was northwestern Nepal, and I am from the southeast.
The subject of the speeches was the rehabilitation of those <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war">forced to flee during the Maoist insurgency</a>. A young man, who seemed agitated, was yelling loudly. I stepped in to translate that his family had been forced from home due to the conflict when he was just 16. He was sent to Kathmandu for further education while his parents stayed in a rented house in Nepalganj.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13684">Youthful rivalry</a>, JOHN NARAYAN PARAJULI
All this was fairly easy to translate, but then he began angrily criticising a leader of the Maoist Party, using rude language. How could I translate such words into English? Besides, I did not even know the English equivalent of those local swearwords.
“मेरो कुरा अङ्ग्रेजीमा भन्दिनु” thundered the man in a menacing voice, asking me not to leave anything out. The Sector Commander asked what the man was going on about, and I told him I did not understand and apologised, while the man kept interrupting and accused me of not translating his tirade, and being biased.
I finally told the man: “तपाईंको गाली मलाई अङ्ग्रेजीमा भन्न आएन। गाली ट्रान्सलेट गर्न आको हो म?” (I cannot translate your curses. Am I here to translate your profanity?)He shouted back (expletives beeped out): “किन जागिर खाको त ? बाउको सोर्स होला... beep... beep... beep..” (Then why were you hired? Your Dad must know someone…)
I moved on to next person in the audience and completely ignored him. However, today as I think back at that day in Humla his angry words still ring in my ears. I wish now I could have told him that I got the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17292">UNMIN</a> interpreter job because a friend had heard about the opening and I filled out the UN’s complicated P11 application form. My Dad had no idea what I was getting into.
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Read earlier instalments of Angrezi, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">here</a>.

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Me, the Interpreter

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe114c9c7e80680e0da4d3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1104"/><figcaption>Maoist child soldiers in a corn field in the Tarai in 2004. PHOTO: DAMBAR KRISHNA SHRESTHA/A PEOPLE WAR</figcaption></figure>On <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/13-february/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">13 February 1996</a> the Maoist party decided to take a shortcut to power. It abandoned mainstream politics and the democratic system, and instead adopted a path of violence to cleanse Nepal of ‘class enemies’. They did get to power, but at an immense cost to the people.Over 17,000 Nepalis were killed, thousands of children orphaned, women widowed. The 1990 Constitution failed. Violence, hatred, suspicion spread, democracy was threatened.The violence propelled the Maoists to power with a landslide victory in the 2008 Constituent Assembly election, but the path of peaceful politics was not easy for a party that believed political power came out the barrel of a gun.In consecutive elections since 2008, the party got fewer and fewer votes. At the current rate, its political future is bleak at best.The 1990 Constitution empowered Nepalis, and monarchy had to relinquish its absolute powers. The elected legislature was supreme, and it was alive and vibrant. The judiciary and the Supreme Court were many times more dignified than they are today.The Nepali Congress (NC) emerged as the biggest party in the 1991 general election, while Unified Marxist–Leninist (UML), back then only called Marxist–Leninist, also established itself as a formidable force.The United People’s Front of Nepal (UPFN) chaired by Baburam Bhattarai won only nine seats -- two of them were Krishna Bahadur Mahara and Lila Mani Pokhrel.The UPFN realised that it was going to take a long time to defeat the NC and UML through elections. Inspired by Mao Zedong, they felt Communists must wage an armed struggle.In the intervening years, the party split and a militant faction led by ‘Prachanda’ led the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) to launch the armed struggle on 13 February 1996 against ‘feudal forces’.They were ambitious, and the armed conflict was a quick way to power by playing into contradictions between the NC, UML and the Palace. Police high handedness in cracking down against the rebels drove more people into the Maoist fold.I was the editor of Deshantar  weekly, and from day one had no sympathy for Maoist violence. Many of the 40 demands in the ultimatum Bhattarai presented to Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba on 1 February 1996 were impractical and populist.But the Maoists had found the right time to strike while the iron was hot. The Palace, which had ruled for 30 years, had been forced to give up its absolute power in 1990, and there were hardliners unhappy about it. The UML was not clear about its ideology, either.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/ghosts-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Ghosts of war</a>, Sonia Awale<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11509c7e80680e0da4d4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1111"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Then there was India. While the Maoists played the nationalist card by voicing anti-Indian sentiments in Nepal, across the border they got support and weapons training, the Maoists felt special and they now had to prove themselves.The use of ruthless violence in a society that had not witnessed such bloodshed was a rude shock. The Maoists did not just kill people, they made them suffer and circulated the news widely. Terror was used as a weapon to terrify people.I remember one case in Sindhuli, where they accused a man of exploitation and killed him by crushing his knees with boulders. Such brutality worked because it had a multiplier effect in instilling fear. They robbed banks which increased their resource base.Their main target was the NC, especially its grassroots leaders. They initially did not harm the UML, which they regarded as fraternal Communists. This gave Maoists more access, since the UML was leading many local VDCs.The 1997 by-election also benefited the Maoists since it was a hung Parliament and the NC and UML got Surya Bahadur Thapa and Lokendra Chanda Thapa of the rightwing RPP to take turns being prime minister, and gave people the feeling nothing had changed.But NC won the majority in the 1999 election, which was a major setback for the Maoists. Girija Prasad Koirala, a staunch anti-Communist, became Prime Minister. By this point, the Maoists had started attacking the UML too, because of their local support.The Maoist tactics were straight out of Mao’s Red Book: start by capturing remote parts of the country, and cut them off. They extorted villagers and raised levies, and those who did not pay were made examples of: either killed, tortured or publicly humiliated.One of the most tragic examples of this was the case of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6369#.Y-XIii8w1KM" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Muktinath Adhikari</a>, a teacher from Lamjung who was executed in 2002 by the Maoists. In Okhaldhunga, where I come from, another teacher was dragged around the village and tortured until he died, and his body was hung from a tree next to his school.In another case, bank staff transporting money were looted. I wrote an editorial in Deshantar saying this was not a revolution but daylight robbery. In response, Janadesh, a mouthpiece of the Maoists, carried an interview with Baburam Bhattarai in which he said I should be buried alive in the same hole dug up to bury Girija Prasad Koirala.Later, as editor of Himal Khabarpatrika, we were clear about our support for democracy, non-violence and pluralism. And we never used the word ‘terrorist’ to describe the Maoists.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11549c7e80680e0da4d5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="591" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>When the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-turning-point-dunai-17-years-later,3980" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoists attacked Dunai</a> in 2000, the first raid on a district capital, Yubaraj Ghimire, editor of Kantipur, chartered a helicopter to the site before even the state could do a proper survey. The next morning, pictures and testimonials of terrified villagers made it to the front pages in Kathmandu.This became a trend. The attack on Naumule in 2002, and images of piles of dead bodies got similar coverage. I also used to assign photographers who were going with the dailies. But we were still not getting the real story, we were just counting the bodies. We felt we needed more independent reports, not propaganda from both sides.For example, we bought 7 photographs of the Dunai attack in which it was clear that the Maoists were using child soldiers. The young boy was carrying a light machine gun. After it was published, the Maoists for the first time were defensive before the international community. They had previously denied ever recruiting children.But we needed to do more, and especially to show how the conflict was affecting ordinary people. So we kept up with as much field reporting as possible when the Maoist attacks escalated. Other media were also doing in-depth coverage from the war zones.The Maoists then started countering this with their own perspective in the same newspapers. They sponsored trips for journalists to their ‘base areas’. After the Royal Nepal Army entered the war in 2002, it started doing the same.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11589c7e80680e0da4d6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1236" height="829"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In 2004, the Maoists had taken a group of journalists to one of their mass meetings. The news and photographs were published in all major dailies, they all said 15,000 people had come to listen to the Maoist leaders.Because we were a fortnightly magazine, we had a few more days to verify, so we went with 10,000. That evening before the magazine went to press, the reporter asked me to change it back to 15,000 because of the fear of repercussions from the Maoists. We went with 15,000, but after that we stopped accepting conducted tours.By the peak of the war in 2000, the Maoist ambition was to oust both the NC and UML and ally with the Palace such that the king would head Narayanhiti and the Maoists Singha Darbar. This in turn heightened the ambition of the Palace, and its direct impact was on its reluctance to deploy the Army against the Maoists despite Girija Prasad Koirala pushing for it.Koirala and other leaders asked the palace to mobilise the Army, but the palace would not budge. Nepal Police had only 25,000 personnel armed with 303 S. They were no match for the politically motivated and battle-hardened guerrillas.But as the conflict escalated, the political parties were unable to circumvent the Constitutional provision that required the king to mobilise the army, and set up the Armed Police Force (AFP). The Maoists continued their offensive, and attacked the AFP, even killing its first chief Krishna Mohan Shrestha. Yet, the Army would still not intervene or even equip the AFP with proper weaponry.No one knows how things would have turned out if the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18246" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Royal Massacre of 2001</a> had not taken place, and the entire family of King Birendra wiped out. In the beginning, King Gyanendra continued the same policy, but then in 2002 he went a step further, declared political parties incapable, and took absolute power.The Maoists were encouraged by this move, it brought them closer to their power-sharing deal with the Palace by excluding the democratic parties. The NC split over the decision to call a state emergency, and the UML was also divided.Through all this, New Delhi still supported the monarchy, which gave Gyanendra the confidence to consolidate his authoritarian moves. But the Europeans and Americans entered into the picture, and given the strategic value of Nepal, saw the India-monarchy tie-up to their detriment. So when the West showed its hand, India backed off, and that was the downfall of Nepal’s monarchy as well.The Maoists could not take over the country with the force of arms, which was why there was a ceasefire in 2006. The insurgency did make Nepalis more aware of their rights, and the Maoists provided a platform for suppressed groups who were easy recruits. Doors did open for women, Dalits and excluded ethnicities, but in a real sense class, caste and ethnic  divisions still exist.In every other sense, the conflict ravaged Nepal and its people. It destroyed dreams and lives, it set back development. We would have achieved better results and sooner with peaceful democratic evolution.After the 1990 People’s Movement, Nepal’s economy grew and there had been real hope for the future. Local elections had started to bring up accountable leaders. If this had been allowed to continue, Nepal would have been a different (and better) place today. The Comprehensive Peace Accord in 2006 was not an agreement, but a compromise.But perhaps the biggest impact of the conflict was on the politics that followed. Today, Parliament is a farce, the Supreme Court has no dignity, and there is no real federalism. The younger generation is growing up with no knowledge of the Maoist conflict. Impunity is rife because those who committed atrocities have gotten away with it. As a society, we have become more intolerant.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Transitional justice</a> is now synonymous with hypocrisy. The commissions mandated with delivering it have been taken over by politicians. The Maoist conflict has eroded not just democratic institutions, but the state itself. We must not forget to remember what the war did to Nepal and its people.In the last 30 years we have made dramatic progress in some areas, but did we need a Maoist conflict for that?It is easier to look at the positive aspects, and move on from painful memories. Ask the survivors and the relatives of the victims. If we must say there were some achievements of ten years of war, then we must also admit that there were bigger losses that are still being felt.Rajendra Dahal is the former editor of Deshantar and Himal Khabarpatrika, and is now editor of Shikshak magazine.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-unpunished-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's unpunished war crimes</a>, Sabita Adhikari

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All is fair in war (and peace)

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203d59c7e80680e0b282bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"/><figcaption>Bhakta Bahadur Regmi with Rabin and Rabina in Kathmandu last week speaking about a traumatic tragedy 20 years ago that changed their lives. All photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>It was exactly 20 years ago that Rabina Regmi and her brother Rabin were travelling with their parents when their bus was attacked with petrol bombs by Maoists along the East-West Highway in Sarlahi.As the fire spread, the driver lost control and the bus toppled over into a ditch. Rabina, aged 5 and Rabin, 3, and their mother, Anju, were the last to be rescued.All three suffered severe burns, and a video taken at the time shows the two children huddled around their mother, crying and in shock.Anju died after two weeks of pain and agony in a hospital in Raxaul. Rabina had burns all over her face, her hands and stomach. Rabin had burns on his face, a gash on his head, deep cut on his leg and his left hand was broken. Two other passengers also lost their lives in the attack.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2681#.Yd3XUy8w3u1">Rabin and Rabina</a>, Nepali Times<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203d89c7e80680e0b282cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="632"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203db9c7e80680e0b282djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203de9c7e80680e0b282ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e19c7e80680e0b282fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="162" height="462">After Nepali Times reporter <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4138#.Yd01MmhBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D4138%23.Yd01MmhBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3xCd8ewhrV9Mu4ia5bOtYQ">Naresh Newar’s story</a> appeared in this newspaper in 2002 (left), the tragedy came to represent the face of a meaningless war, and there was an <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10418#.Yd01s2hBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D10418%23.Yd01s2hBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0k9ll2ElmCFl161aiP0SgQ">outpouring of support from readers</a>. Sushma Koirala Memorial Hospital offered <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4485#.Yd01uGhBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D4485%23.Yd01uGhBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2vHaXELYbwVRMJ58aPNrLT">reconstructive surgery to the children</a>, and Bright Horizon Children’s Home and School took responsibility for their education till college.“Telling their story was important because there wasn’t enough coverage on how the war was affecting children,” says Naresh Newar. “The Maoist were attacking public spaces without regards to who may be affected from their actions, this story showed the victim’s side of story.”Newar followed up with the family numerous times and is grateful for the positive impact it had for the family. The last time he met them, the siblings were happily settled in at the school.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1fsjRXaEHUThe Regmi family's tragedy and ordeal was depicted in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-sibling-war-juna-rai,731">A People War</a>, a photo book trilogy curated by Kunda Dixit and featured in Kesang Tseten and Prem BK's documentary <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2009/10/27/a-state-of-lawlessness/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Frames of War</a> (clip, above).   Now aged 25 and 23, Rabina and Rabin still bear scars from the tragedy, but are determined to not let their past hold them back. Rabina is a final year BBA student at Global College of Management and wants to get into banking. Rabin is doing his BSc in Agriculture from Chandigarh University. After the campus closed last year due to the pandemic, he in Kathmandu attending online classes.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4138#.Yd3XSS8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Why the children?</a>, Naresh Newar<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e39c7e80680e0b2830jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e69c7e80680e0b2831jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640">Their father Bhakta Bahadur Regmi is a forest ranger stationed in Hetauda, the same job he had 20 years ago. He is grateful for all the help his children have got over the years from the school, hospital, and others, but says it has been two decades of struggle without their mother.There has been no help from the state. “Everywhere we go, they ask for identification cards proving that we are conflict victims. But we don’t have any papers to prove that,” he says. Even today, he carries a folder of newspaper cuttings and old medical records of his children.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e99c7e80680e0b2832jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640">The Truth and Reconciliation Commission was mandated to provide identification cards to conflict survivors, and inform them about investigations into war crimes. But without political connections, and no time to scour many government offices, Bhakta Bahadur and his family have been left to fend for themselves. The attackers were never identified and did not have to answer for their crime.For the past 20 years, Rabina and Rabin have needed numerous operations to heal their wounds, including reconstructive and orthopedic surgery, laser treatment, even hair transplant. The fees for surgeries are waived or subsidised, but the cost of travel, medicines and hospital stay add up.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12867#.Yd3XRy8w3u1">New life</a>, Naresh Newar<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203ec9c7e80680e0b2833jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640">In 2015, when Rabina was getting another of her laser treatments for burn scars, the Indian blockade led to a shortage of medicines. “The doctors had to perform the procedure without anesthesia and it was very painful,” recalls Bhakta Bahadur. Later, her wounds got infected and she had to get it treated again. Rabin has not had laser surgery due to financial constraints.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-%20of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Post-conflict stress syndrome</a>, Taylor Caldwell<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203f09c7e80680e0b2834jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="161" height="242">At Bright Horizon, the siblings aced their studies. Rabin passed his SEE with a GPA of 3.85, the highest from his batch. Rabina was also a good student, and the school is still helping them with college fees, while their father struggles to cover other costs.The first year Rabina was at the boarding school, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12867#.Yd0szmhBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D12867%23.Yd0szmhBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1HzBsDJ5lqZZQWUUsNOHQp">she ran away</a>. “I did not know anyone there and I missed home,” she says. “But later, it became our home. Both of us made life-long friends there.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203f29c7e80680e0b2835jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="161" height="242">Bhakta Bahadur describes Rabina as the calm one. Rabin on the other hand was a mischievous little boy. He says, “Both of them felt at home at Bright Horizon, when I went to pick them up during holidays, they’d refuse to come home saying their mother wasn’t there.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4485#.Yd3XUS8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rabina and Rabin in hospital</a>, Naresh NewarAt school, Rabina made it a point to look out for her brother. Every time Rabin got into fights with his friends, his elder sister would come to his rescue. Today, the two share their hopes and dreams, supporting each other and hope to take care of their father who has sacrificed all to raise them.Weary of the country’s situation, Rabina now wants to go abroad for her MBA. Rabin wants to complete his MSc and then try for the civil exams. “The two of us came to the conclusion that one of us should go abroad and the other should stay back,” says Rabin. “We have seen how much difference having a family member abroad makes for the economic wellbeing of families.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10418#.Yd3XTy8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rs 199,349 for Rabina and Rabin Regmi</a>, Nepali Times<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203f59c7e80680e0b2836jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="363" height="242">Having brought up the children on his own, Bhakta Bahadur still worries about their future. But he is happy the two have become responsible young adults ready to take charge of their own lives.Rabina says with determination, “We have had to depend on our father for so long. Now, we want to look after him, and our family.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13966#.Yd3XSi8w3u1">Remembering hell</a>, Nepali Times<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/burning-in-the-aftermath,3757" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Burning in the aftermath</a>, Sahina Shrestha

Sahina Shrestha

The scars of war

After the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10616#.YV7B7tVBypp">decade-long Maoist conflict</a> ended in 2006, ex-guerrilla commanders and local governments here saw great potential for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15759#.YV6VzNVBypo">‘war tourism’</a> in the revolutionary heartland.These craggy and remote mountains of mid-western Nepal were where the Maoists launched their armed struggle in February 1996, and many obscure villages like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-spark-that-lit-the-Maoist-revolution,2870">Holeri, Khara and Gam</a> became household words because of the famous battle that raged there.More than 15 years after the war ended, the former guerrillas have been in and out of government many times and have earmarked a budget every year to take the region ‘<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/340/Nation/13344#.YV6Xs9VBypo">from Maoism to tourism’</a>. The idea is to use the historical memory of the conflict to honour the sacrifices of those who died in the insurgency, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15759#.YV7BkNVBypo">generate income from trekking tourism</a>, and create local jobs. In the past 15 years, the central government alone has spent Rs500 million to promote ‘war tourism’. But the money has mostly been doled out to the cadre of the Maoist Centre party, which is once again a member of the coalition government in Kathmandu now.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14230#.YV7BftVBypo">Rolpa today</a> is as neglected as ever, former guerrilla commanders who are in government have not done much to provide health and education, or lift the living standards of the people in whose name they fought a war of liberation.An example of the enormous waste of money is a safe house in Rolpa in which Maoist Supreme Commander Prachanda (Pushpa Kamal Dahal) once sought shelter in 2001 during the conflict. In 2019, the local infrastructure initiative spent Rs10 million to renovate this house ostensibly to turn it into a museum. The mud and thatch two-storey house belongs to the brother of Maoist leader Jayapuri Gharti, and another of her brothers was made the chair of the project. The money was used to purchase the house and build a metal structure to shelter the shelter from the elements.“All that money was spent for nothing,” says Anil KC, a Maoist from the Biplav faction. “They brought some journalists here and took some pictures. I don’t think any tourists have come this way.”   Of the 17,000 people who were killed in the conflict, nearly 1,000 were from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6187#.YV6i09VBypo">Rolpa district</a>. And 35 of the 1,380 people still listed as missing are also from the district in which the Maoists launched their armed struggle on 13 February 1996 with an attack on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/end-of-war-is-not-peace/">Holeri police post.</a> <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d181f9c7e80680e0ac7a5jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>A functionless cement welcome gate erected at enormous cost in 2016 in Thawang, the village that was a stronghold of the Maoists during the conflict. Photos: MAHESH NEUPANE </figcaption></figure>Right after the conflict ended, the Ministry of Peace in Kathmandu allocated Rs1.1 million to build a ‘martyrs gate’ in Holeri that would also <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5571#.YV6jbtVBypo">commemorate the first Maoist attack</a>. There is no sign of the gate today.“There was a gate here, but since so much of the money was embezzled during its construction, those involved demolished it, saying they needed to widen a road,” says the mayor of Runtogadi Balaram Buda. In 2011, the district administration allocated Rs 17 million for nine projects to develop trekking infrastructure in Rolpa. After the 2017 election, municipal, provincial and federal governments have paid out more money to build rest houses, repair trails and construct view towers along the paths that the guerrillas used.   Similarly, the Peace Ministry had doled out Rs1.86 million seven years ago to construct a memorial to Maoist commander Khim Thapa in Sulichaur. It was never built.  <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18219c7e80680e0ac7a6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“I remember before I was elected, some bulldozers were levelling the site, but I have no idea why the park was never built,” says ward chair Ganj Chhetri.In April 2001, 44 Maoists were killed in a fierce battle in Pategumchal of Rolpa. Seven years ago, the Ministry of Peace allocated Rs1.55 million to build a memorial column at the site of the battle.A cement shed and latrine were built, but they are not usable. After pressure from local people, a committee headed by Nar Bahadur Pun finally built a makeshift gate.The village of Gam of Rolpa district made national headlines in 2002 after <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6167#.YV6jXNVBypo">a fierce battle that killed 35 Maoists</a> and left 106 police and civil servants dead. There is a ‘martyrs’ pillar’ to commemorate the battle, but it looks abandoned. “All they did was steal the money meant for those who died, they just built this to show they did something,” says local Deu Gharti Magar.The municipality got another Rs3.2 million to build a ‘martyrs’ memorial peace park’ under the chairmanship of Maoist Centre leader Ramesh Buda. It was also never built. Local Maoist leaders are uncomfortable when asked about where all the money went.Another Rs3.2 million was given to a committee to build a martyrs’ memorial park in Jankot. Some of it was used to buy the land, but nothing was built, and it looks like the rest of the money has vanished. <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18239c7e80680e0ac7a7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Despite questions about how building martyrs’ gates and pillars will help promote ‘war tourism’, budget outlays have continued to local committees for projects that lack any utility. And even the money set aside to build those memorials is misused, or simply stolen.In Dubi Danda of Rolpa, Rs2.5 million was given between 2011-2015 to build a park, but all that was done was construct a makeshift shed and the site levelled to make a helipad. It is the same story in Gangadev municipality – Rs3.2 million was given to a local committee that hired a bulldozer to clear the slope, and nothing was built.  In 1999, police captured 11 members of a Maoist cultural troupe in Bhawang, executed them and burnt the bodies. The Peace Ministry allocated Rs2.5 million to build a memorial for them, but today there is just a shed ringed with barbed wire at the site where the guerrillas’ bodies were set alight. <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18259c7e80680e0ac7a8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In numerous other places, money has been given to local Maoist cadres to build parks, but aside from a memorial in Thawang, either nothing was ever built or whatever was constructed has no tangible value to the public. Altogether Rs12 million was given for park projects in Iribang, Gajul and Thawang. “They have exploited our grief and bereavement to enrich themselves,” says Dev Bahadur Oli, whose brother Sundar was killed by the security forces in 2002. “The money is just a handout to the party cadre to rent dozers, it is not transparent at all.”Rolpa ranks 67th out of Nepal’s 77 districts in the Human Development Index (HDI). The district needs better schools and more hospitals, roads and bridges need to be upgraded, and people who lost their jobs during the pandemic need help. Yet, all three levels of government keep wasting money on physical monuments that have no public service function – even if they are built. Khem Buda Magar, who headed the now-defunct District Peace Committee, says it is not just the misuse of state resources to build so-called parks and memorials, but such projects have failed to honour those who died or were disappeared, and their relatives feel they are also forgotten.   Rolpa’s elected representatives see much potential in trekking as tourism rebounds after the Covid-19 pandemic. In fact, all local governments have put trekking tourism top on the list of priorities. In the 2018-19 fiscal year, Madi, Paribartan and Thawang municipality spent altogether Rs4.5 million for so-called ‘tourism development’. In addition, Lumbini Province in this year’s budget allocated Rs20 million for tourism infrastructure in Thawang. <figure><img width="347" height="462" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18279c7e80680e0ac7a9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Even the Ministry of Tourism and Civil Aviation under the federal government has granted Rs7.5 million for the ‘Guerrilla Trekking Trail’ along the Jaljala mountain. Of this, only a 1.8km path has been built by a local committee in Jelbang.Rs4 million was also given to Thawang for a ‘Yarsa Trekking Trail’ that follows the paths used by yarsagumba pickers. The municipality only built a 2.5km trail with the money, but it is not used much, says Thawang resident Sri Kumari Roka.“It is a trail to nowhere, why should anyone walk on it?” she asks.  <figure><img width="512" height="288" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18289c7e80680e0ac7aajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Six of Rolpa’s local governments set aside Rs7.4 million last fiscal year for ‘war tourism’, and Lumbini Province allocated Rs5 million for the purpose.The whole town of Jelbang was supposed to be turned into a ‘model village’ to honour the 73 Maoists who were killed there in 2001, by helping their relatives. The Peace Ministry even granted Rs2.8 million for the purpose. But it was all spent on road repairs, and the ward chair says that was a joint decision.“The money that came to build model villages ended up giving some Maoist leaders and cadre a model lifestyle,” says local resident Bharat Roka mockingly.A former Maoist camp supervised by the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) in Triveni of Rolpa is being turned into a museum at a cost of Rs9 million. The project is headed by a local leader of the Maoist Centre Amar Dangi, who himself is related to Lumbini Province Chief Minister Kul Prasad KC.Another building in Thawang for a ‘Martyr Foundation’ was allocated Rs6.5 million, but it had been lying in its abandoned state until it was converted last year into an isolation centre for Covid-19 patients. <figure><img width="512" height="358" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d182a9c7e80680e0ac7abjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="334" height="512" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d182b9c7e80680e0ac7acjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Much of the rest of the money allocated for ‘war tourism’ is now being spent on building concrete view towers on mountain tops in Rolpa. Critics have questioned why mountain tops that are already very high need to be a few metres higher with these wasteful symbols. One such mountain is the 2,055m high Chuche Peak on top of which the local municipality is building a 10-floor 115m view tower at a cost of Rs48 million. Another view tower is sprouting near Holeri, the cradle of the Maoist revolution.All this construction is happening in a district where there are 200 government schools with nearly 70,000 students, but very few teachers. At Sunchahari municipality there are 5,000 students, the school buildings are rudimentary, and there is not a single secondary school teacher. The doctor-patient ratio in Rolpa is 1:25,000, and families have to walk for days just to reach a health post even for simple treatments for relatives.  Yet, all this does not seem to concern any of the three levels of government that have spent Rs30 million just on 90 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15759#.YV7BkNVBypo">temples in the district.</a>One of the more useful projects has been the establishment of ethnic museums, with ones for Gurung, Magar and Dalit peoples. The Gurung Museum has exhibits and a homestay.  <figure><img width="512" height="243" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d182c9c7e80680e0ac7adjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Erstwhile Finance Minister Barsha Man Pun, who was once a guerrilla commander, inaugurated an ‘Information Centre’ and an ‘indigenous museum’ for the war tourism project 12km from the district capital of Libang. No one is using the building, and it is falling apart. The war tourism initiative was launched without any study or business plan. It has not been promoted adequately, and has just been an excuse to distribute money to Maoist cadre, says Amar Singh Pun, a former minister from Rolpa.He adds: “This has been a colossal waste of money, a pretext for cash handouts to party loyalists.” This report was prepared by Mahesh Neupane for <a href="https://www.hamropatro.com/date-converter">the Centre for Investigative Journalism Nepal</a>. The Nepali original can be found <a href="https://cijnepal.org.np/cij-10/">here.</a>

Nepal’s ‘war tourism’ is a scam

<img width="1169" height="747" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08ca9c7e80680e0a603ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The Human Rights Watch (HRW) on Tuesday wrote a letter to Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, urging him to uphold the rights of Nepali citizens and strengthen the rule of law.
Recent <a href="https://www.thelancet.com/action/showPdf?pii=S2214-109X(20)30345-4">reports</a> have revealed that the pandemic has decreased institutional delivery by half, increasing risks of premature birth, stillborn deliveries and newborn deaths, setting back Nepal’s past gains in maternal and child care.
Additionally, reduced family income coupled with prolonged school closures has pushed many Nepali children into labour, with projections that half of the girl students may not rejoin schools once they <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/half-of-nepals-girls-may-drop-out-of-school/">reopen</a>. Child marriages are on the rise.
“The new government should take measures to safeguard and continue progress on health and education, including through assistance for households whose livelihoods have been devastated by the pandemic,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “Safety nets are critical for ensuring that crises do not prevent children from continuing their education or harm progress on reducing child marriage and child labour.” 
The letter paid special attention to pressing human rights issues pertaining to Nepal’s failures in addressing war crime and transitional justice.
In 2015, Nepal formed the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and the Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons. A year before that in 2014, the Supreme Court scrapped provisions in the transitional justice law that allows amnesty for offences including torture, murder, and enforced disappearance during Nepal’s armed conflict. The law has not been revised.
Successive governments have stopped conflict-era cases from being heard in regular courts citing the supposed transitional justice process, even as victim groups and Nepali human rights organisations have long questioned its credibility. 
But their protests seem to have fallen on deaf ears, one of Deuba’s first acts in office was to extend the terms of transitional justice commissioners by another year.
“Successive governments have stalled on delivering justice to victims for the many grave cases of abuse, preferring to protect the abusers instead,” adds Ganguly. “As a result, abuses continue while principles of accountability, the rule of law, and the independence of institutions have been eroded, with negative consequences for everyone in society.”
Nepal has made little progress in investigations of human rights violations at home despite being re-elected as a member of the United Nations Human Rights Council. This has had a corrosive impact on wider principles of accountability and the integrity of institutions.
Of late, Nepal has seen a marked increase in alleged extra-judicial killings, custodial deaths allegedly from torture, and the excessive use of lethal force against protesters. In fact, the NHRC in October 2020 published a list of 286 suspects of serious crimes that included law enforcement officials, military personnel, and former Maoist insurgents that police had refused to investigate.
A culture of impunity has undermined the rule of law, there is no accountability for abuses of power. Instead, they continue to climb up the bureaucratic ladder, like the promotion of a police officer alleged to be involved in the extra-judicial killing of two men in August 2018. 
Justice and relief for survivors of sexual violence during the conflict is even more difficult to come by. On the other hand, families of six young Dalit men murdered in Rukum in May 2020 —among the deadliest instances of caste-based killings in Nepal, still await justice. Those linked to the death of a 12-year-old girl forced to marry her rapist in May 2020 have yet to be held accountable.
The HRW has also called on the Deuba government to reverse appointments made to independent institutions like NHRC and the Election Commission after the Oli government pushed an ordinance amending the law in December 2020 to allow only three members of the Council to make appointments.
There are numerous other pending challenges such as the 2006 Citizenship Act, provisions in the 2015 Constitution, and a draft citizenship bill that limits women’s ability to transmit citizenship through marriage. The bill is similarly discriminatory against Nepal’s transgender people.
The HRW also opposed restrictions on the freedom of religion, rights to peaceful assembly, expression, and association of Tibetan refugees in Nepal who have fled Chinese persecution.
Says Ganguly: “Prime Minister Deuba faces many pressing problems, but he also has an opportunity to craft a positive legacy. Meanwhile, Nepal’s international development partners should press the government for measurable action on accountability if they hope to achieve change.”

Nepal must work on human rights

<figure><img width="1440" height="798" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b09c7e80680e092e57jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SAGLO SAMAJ</figcaption></figure>Why is Nepal in a state of perpetual revolution? Why do leaders who have suffered and sacrificed so much for the cause of democracy let the country and people down as soon as they come to power. Two episodes of Himalmedia’s Saglo Samaj tv magazine program talks to civil society members, legislators and journalists to come up with answers. <h2>Binda Pandey, MP</h2> Women played a significant role in and had high expectations of the People’s Movement in 1990 against gender discrimination. <img width="1440" height="798" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b39c7e80680e092e58jpeg.jpg" alt="">The 1990 constitution said that at least 5% of women needed to be elected to the House of Representatives and the National Assembly. By the time the second election of 1997 came around, at least one female candidate from each ward was required to run for office, as a result of which 40,000 women were elected to local bodies across the country.But the leaders who promised equality did not do much once they came into power. Citizenship laws were made even more restrictive than before 1990. We went backwards.Women guerrillas took up arms in 1996 when the conflict began . The state then realised that women could fight as well. The Maoist movement armed women with weapons. Women involvement in the armed struggle and the Second People’s Movement of 2006 sent a subliminal message that if women could carry guns, they could do anything. <img width="1439" height="802" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b69c7e80680e092e59jpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Chandrakishor, Journalist</h2> The Nepal Sadbhavana Party was established after the 1990 People’s movement and fought in later elections. The party’s reach was small, but it represented and kept the basic tenets of the Madhes alive when mainstream political parties had failed to fulfil Madhesi aspirations. Nepali Congress leader Mahendra Nidhi realised that the party had just been using him as  token Madhesi.   <h2>Rita Sah, Activist</h2> Under the multi-party system, it looked like the needs of the Madhesi community would be addressed, among which citizenship was most important. The access of Madhesi party women to political parties increased under the multi-party system, as leaders like Sarita Giri, Renu Yadav, and Chitralekha Yadav, stepped into politics. But despite this the issues of the Madhesi community and women, in particular, have not progressed. <img width="1440" height="794" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b89c7e80680e092e5ajpeg.jpg" alt="">It was the Maoists who for the first time raised the issue of inclusion, and the internal colonisation of the Madhes, which inspired Madhesi people to join the armed struggle, as did the Dalits and Janajatis for self-determination and self-governance. <h2>Dambar Chemjong, Tribhuvan University</h2> The 1990 movement did not promise the Janajati people anything. But the main demand of a multi-party system under a constitutional monarchy was met. After this the indigenous people demanded that they be able to establish political parties, but the Election Commission shot that down. The interim prime minister himself, during the 1991 general election, said that Janajati is communal, not political. <img width="1440" height="782" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8bb9c7e80680e092e5bjpeg.jpg" alt="">Because Nepal had been a Hindu state for a long time, laws based on religion had infringed upon the socio-cultural, linguistic, and religious traditions of the Janajati community. But the suggestion that Nepal become secular under the 1990 Constitution was not heeded.With the Maoist armed struggle, women, Dalits, Janajatis or other minority communities felt they were finally in positions of leadership, especially women as guerrilla leaders and commanders, gave a sense of equality and social justice. It gave the impression that the Maoist revolution had brought in a new phase of Nepali society by destroying old norms and belief systems.The Maoists promised a Magarat Autonomous Region, and heads of the Tamuwan, Kirat, Tharuhat, and Newa People’s government. However, these never materialised and the issues of the Janajati people were not addressed after the conflict. This leads me to believe that they were merely used as pawns in a political game.What did the oppressed get out of the armed conflict? At first glance, it seems like they got everything they were promised. But that is not the case. For instance, the naming of the federal provinces would have been a symbolic admission and acknowledgement of the state's decades-long oppression and exploitation of indigenous peoples. But that did not happen. <h2>Kailash Rai, Researcher</h2> After the end of the autocratic rule, many citizens got the opportunity to advocate for their rights, including the Dalit, Janajati, and Madhesi communities -- especially women within the Dalit Janajati community. Despite this, there is little participation of Dalit women in education, politics, and public discourse.    <img width="640" height="352" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8be9c7e80680e092e5cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Ganesh Biswokarma, Activist</h2> The Dalit community participated in the People's Movement, following which fundamental rights were guaranteed to the community in the 1990 Constitution. This included making untouchability and discrimination punishable by law and introducing positive discrimination. But no law was ever made to implement these provisions. <img width="640" height="352" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8c19c7e80680e092e5djpeg.jpg" alt="">The Dalit Liberation movement sought to end untouchability, make untouchability punishable by law, and create institutions to monitor untouchability. We also demanded that a National Dalit Commission be formed. Our demands have been met, but only as a formality. <h2>Durga Sob, Activist</h2> One of the achievements after the restoration of democracy was the freedom to speak about discrimination towards women, Dalit and Janajati communities. But there have been little to no changes in terms of education, employment, participation, ending untouchability, discrimination against women, and ending violence in the Dalit community. <img width="1061" height="594" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8c49c7e80680e092e5ejpeg.jpg" alt="">What is ironic to me about the armed conflict is, ultimately, what did we fight for during those 10 years? What did those 17,000 people sacrifice their lives for?  Many Dalits lost their lives during the conflict. But what was the use when the people of my community still have to live as untouchables?  <h2>Pradip Pariyar, Activist</h2> After 1990, the Dalit community moved to obtain the right to enter temples, demanded political representation and quotas in education. In 1991, there was only one Dalit MP. <img width="640" height="358" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8c79c7e80680e092e5fjpeg.jpg" alt="">This situation will persist until there is a transformation in leadership. More than 30 years later, the main players of the anti-Panchayat movement are still in leadership. If the same people remain in power for three decades, how can the country and the citizens evolve?The oppressed communities joined the armed conflict in 1996 because they had finally started to be seen and heard, and that gave them collective confidence. The Dalit, Janajati, Madhesi, and Muslim communities were led to believe that the Maoist movement would lead to them having their own state and that the conflict would bring about the end of discrimination and inequality.________________________ <h2>Collective or individual rights?</h2> <h2>Hari Sharma, Researcher</h2> I have seen momentous changes in my lifetime during the last 30 years since the First People's Movement. However, did these changes lead to genuine transformation of state structure and welfare of the people? There is cynicism and disillusionment in the public.The 1990 People’s Movement was purely for political freedom. However, the Constitution formed after the movement reflected that our national Nepali identity was diverse, and  that provided a framework for a liberal constitution. With the armed conflict of 1996-2006 we realised that the system was not able to fulfil Nepal development aspirations and that the rights that had been established after the first People’s Movement had not been translated into public policy, which led to a crisis in governance. By the time the Second People’s Movement of 2006 came around, the movement for identity had taken strong roots.The Maoists also used people’s search for identity strategically. But the biggest question that followed the Second People’s Movement and the subsequent drafting of the constitution was that of who would represent different communities--the members of their community or the mainstream political parties. At the root of the debate is whether individual or collective rights are more important.Fundamentally, the 2017 Constitution seems to prioritise group rights, like the proportional electoral system that we have adopted is conducive to collective identity. But one may not agree with or trust those who have been chosen to represent them. In that case, the beauty of democracy is that if the Constitution has not been implemented correctly, there is an institutional mechanism to rectify that.Nepal’s Constitution attempted to answer questions about problems in the representation of the Janajati community due to a lack of public policy, political accountability, and political responsibility. But instead of moving forward by defining it through public policy, we have been led to a constitutional crisis.Accountability is of the utmost importance in public policy and democracy as a whole, whether it is the accountability over the armed conflict or over daily services and facilities provided to the people. We fought so hard to have a system that holds our elected officials accountable, but that is limited to theory.Democracy has to be defended by vigilance. We might think that our work is done once we elect leaders into office, and the leaders might promise us that there is nothing more to worry about. But the universal truth is that as soon as people achieve any authority, they will become greedy and selfish in their quest for power.  <img width="1440" height="808" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8ca9c7e80680e092e60jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1440" height="803" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8cc9c7e80680e092e61jpeg.jpg" alt="">We have been fighting for party politics for so many years that we cannot imagine having a non-party democracy. Our political parties have evolved into syndicates, and as such, there will be no democracy in Nepal as long as there is no democracy or accountability within political parties. The irony is that we have protected our elitist structures in the name of protecting our old traditional values, while leaders exploit the state's resources even though they have similar resources at their personal disposal. Our resources, as well as the circle of our political elite, are both very small. So it is important that we look not just at the leadership but at the socio-cultural context behind the leadership.Even today, one of our four former prime ministers is likely to be the new prime minister. We seem to be at a standstill from a sociological point view. These four former prime ministers have been in leadership for the past 30 years.Over the last 20 years, I've been looking into a certain political party closely. It has not been able to expand its base, party membership is divided into factions and sub-factions. And unless it expands its support base, a certain subsection of the party will forever have a monopoly over all its resources.Democracy without political parties is unthinkable because we and our resources are under the stranglehold of those parties and their leaders. But ultimately, the people should be able to choose their leadership since there is little possibility to form new parties through social movements. And even though the country has been through transformational democratic movements in recent history, it is doubtful if Nepali society itself has become more democratic.Individual rights, individual responsibility, collective rights and collective responsibility must be merged because a society cannot be built without individual freedom. And there cannot be an independent society without an autonomous and independent citizenry. Our responsibility does not stop on the day that we cast our ballots. On the contrary, it is our responsibility to keep the egos of our leaders in check, to hold our leaders accountable, and to strengthen our voices.Nepal is a testament to the fact that democracy is characterised by diversity. A country that has no minority, no resistance, and where a select few have a monopoly over rights and resources can never be democratic. The politics of prohibition will always hinder the politics of pluralism.Based on Episode 11 and 12 of Saglo Samaj, a tv magazine program produced by Himalmedia which is broadcast every Monday at 8:30 pm on Dish Home Channel 130.

Nepal’s cycles of revolution

Nepal went through a protracted internal armed conflict from 1996-2006 after the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) launched a rebellion to liberate the country from feudalism and monarchy. However, serious human rights violations and abuses were committed by both sides: the state security forces as well as the guerrillas. Over 17,000 people were killed on both sides, and more than 1,300 people are still listed as missing. The families do not know whether they are dead or alive, or who was responsible for their disappearance. The Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) put an end to the conflict on 21 November 2006, with both sides agreeing to hold perpetrators accountable, and provide truth and justice to victims, including a commitment to investigate the whereabouts of those who were disappeared. However, 14 years after the ceasefire, these promises remain unfulfilled. This photographic project focuses on the families of the victims of the conflict to mark the International Day of the Disappeared on 30 August. My image making process involves a ‘family reunion’ in which people who lost family members are alongside projections of old family photographs which include missing family members. The passage of time, of existing and not existing, is layered within a single image. --- <h2>Rekha Bastola</h2> <figure><img width="1000" height="667" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7c99c7e80680e0737a3jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: GULIGO JIA</figcaption></figure>Rekha looks out her window while I was trying to capture her portrait, her nephew holds a backdrop from behind. This is the only picture of her husband that Rekha has. As Maoist commanders wanted by the government, their wedding was held secretly with only a few comrades attending. Four months after the wedding, her husband was arrested by security and never came back.Rekha brought up her husband’s nephews and niece. She remains single, believing that her husband will eventually come home some day. <figure><img width="460" height="661" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7cc9c7e80680e0737a4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="440" height="293" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7ce9c7e80680e0737a5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Nijala</h2> <img width="1000" height="712" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d09c7e80680e0737a6jpeg.jpg" alt="">Nijala sits in front a picture of her father, taken during a festival. Her father was captured twice by the security forces, and later disappeared for being a Maoist. She was just one year old. Her mother Rubi, thinking she would be next, went underground. After the 2006 peace deal, Rubi married again and gave birth to a boy. <h2>Bimala Dhakal</h2> <img width="1000" height="716" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d29c7e80680e0737a7jpeg.jpg" alt="">Bimala Dhakal poses for a portrait alongside the projected photo of her husband Rajendra Prasad Dhakal who was a human rights activist in Gorkha, and was disappeared in 1999 during a trip to Tanahu. She looked for her husband everywhere, and was herself arrested and tortured by the army. She never found him. Bimala rarely talks about her husband in front of her children, only when something reminds her of him. <h2> Bibek Dhakal</h2> Bibek poses for a portrait alongside a photo of his father Rajendra Prasad Dhakal projected to the wall behind him. He was only nine months old when his father was disappeared in 1999. "Sometimes, when I smile or sing out loud, my mother tells me that I look just like my father," Bibek says. <img width="1000" height="714" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d59c7e80680e0737a8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Maina Karki</h2> <img width="1000" height="665" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d89c7e80680e0737a9jpeg.jpg" alt="">Maina Karki and her son sit in front a picture of her late husband, who was a sociology teacher in a government school. He was detained twice by Maoist guerrillas for refusing to give them a donation, and killed the second time. The police report said he has been shot four times. <h2>Narayan Devi Shrestha</h2> <img width="1000" height="714" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7da9c7e80680e0737aajpeg.jpg" alt="">Narayan Devi Shrestha poses for a portrait in front her husband’s picture in which he is in a Maoist party meeting. Her husband, brother and brother-in-law were all arrested and disappeared together. He was a district member of Lalitpur in Kathmandu, and eye witnesses said they had seen him pressed to the ground with a gun pointing at his head. <img width="626" height="875" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7dd9c7e80680e0737abjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="585" height="878" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7df9c7e80680e0737acjpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Nagma Mali</h2> Nagma poses for a portrait in front of a picture of her father. Nagma's mother passed away while giving birth to her sister Swastika. Their father was abducted by the army when Swastika was three, and she had to support her little sister and her grandmother who was ill. Nagma now works for the Children of the Disappeared while studying for her bachelor degree. <h2>Swastika Mali</h2> Swastika stands in the garden of their home in Lalitpur. Swastika’s mother died while giving birth to her. Three years later, her father, Nanda Gopal, who was an artisan, was abducted by the army. After her father disappeared, Swastika was raised by her sister Nagma. <h2>Srijana Shrestha</h2> <img width="1000" height="713" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e19c7e80680e0737adjpeg.jpg" alt="">Srijana sits in front of a picture of herself with her husband, Sanjay, who was a supporter of the Nepali Congress party. In 2001, Maoist guerrillas came into their home and shot her husband in the room. He died on the way to hospital. Theirs was an inter-caste marriage, and the couple had to escape to Pokhara to get married. <h2>Gita Rasaili</h2> <img width="1000" height="666" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e49c7e80680e0737aejpeg.jpg" alt="">Gita poses for a portrait in front of a picture of her sister Reena. Gita and two of her brothers joined the Maoist milita when she was 14. One of her brothers died in combat, and her sister Reena, a student at that time, was raped and killed by the army in her own backyard. “What I feel is that we need to speak up for tomorrow,” says Gita. Since 2007, Gita has been working for people who were victimised during the war and on issues of women empowerment in Voices of Women in Media. <h2>Devi Sunar</h2> <img width="1000" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e69c7e80680e0737afjpeg.jpg" alt="">Devi Sunar and her adopted daughter Maina in front of the picture of Devi’s late daughter Maina who was only 14 when she was tortured and killed by the army as revenge for her mother’s criticism of their involvement in the murder of her niece, Reena Rasaili. Accused of being a Maoist supporter, Reena was shot dead in her own backyard.  “Maina’s body has been in the hospital morgue for 17 years, and I will cremate her when she gets justice,” says Devi, who has founded the Maina Child Development Committee. <h2>Suman Adhikari</h2> <img width="1000" height="716" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e99c7e80680e0737b0jpeg.jpg" alt="">Suman Adhikari sits in front of a family picture in which his brother and father Muktinath Adhikari are celebrating Tihar. Suman’s father was a teacher and human rights activist in Lamjung. He was accused of continuing to teach Sanskrit and for refusing to give donations to the Maoists cause. In 2002, a dozen Maoist guerrillas took him away from a class he was teaching, tied him to a tree, stabbed him in the chest, and shot him.Former Maoist leader Baburam Bhattarai has publically acknowledged that the murder was a “mistake”. No one has been punished or the crime.Guligo Jia, 30 is a Chinese photographer and documentary filmmaker based in Beijing, and was stranded in Nepal from February-July 2020. <a href="mailto:guligojia@qq.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">guligojia@qq.com</a>

The empty chairs

<figure><img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7b89c7e80680e07379bjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: SABRINA DANGOL</figcaption></figure>Bimala Dhakal’s husband Rajendra was a human rights lawyer in Gorkha, and had to go underground because the authorities suspected that he had Maoist sympathies. In 1999, he was arrested by police in Tanahu. It has been 21 years, and Bimala has not seen her husband since that day.  Police came after her, too. So she left her job and family and moved to Kathmandu with three small children. It has been two decades of raising her children as a single mother, while knocking on the doors of the police and the courts, as well as being herself arrested and tortured by the military.“The past is too painful to remember. I don’t think many can even understand the kind of pain I have faced,” says Bimala, who has almost given up hope of her husband ever returning.  Rajendra Dhakal is among the over 1,300 people officially listed as still missing from the 1996-2006 Maoist conflict. Since the end of the war, and even after <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/Justice-in-transition,458" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/Justice-in-transition,458&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1598605338367000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFRLbLjCJUh4TK46Qw1BuC61QXVZg">two transitional justice bodies</a> were finally set up in 2015, families of the disappeared have got neither truth nor justice.  The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP) are staffed by political appointees, and all they have done in the past five years is collect testimonies and file them away in steel cabinets.<a href="http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/by-the-way/justice-adjourned-for-nepal-conflict-victims,454" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Justice Adjourned</a>, Anurag AcharyaNew commissioners were nominated in January and have been rejected by conflict victim organisations. In April the Supreme Court ruled that the commissions could not offer blanket amnesty to those charged of serious human rights violations. Conflict victims have come to expect very little truth or justice from successive governments. The Nepali state today is made up of former enemies in that war, and although this has helped in the reconciliation process, it has come at the cost of justice for the families of the disappeared. Indeed, the ruling Nepal Communist Party is a merger of two parties, one of which is accused of murdering and disappearing leaders of the other till 14 years ago.Not having a missing relative present continues to be an ever-present pain. This burden of ambiguous loss is multiplied among thousands of families across the country who need recognition of their suffering, information on the fate of the missing relative, and support to get on with their lives. Because it was mainly men who were disappeared, it is the women who need help because of the added burden of social stigma.Because the government is no help, families of the disappeared and those killed by both sides have got together to form common pressure groups to demand justice. Mothers and wives of the disappeared in Bardiya have set up a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17396#.X0d8Uy8w3BJ">network of mothers and wives</a> of the disappeared.These days, Bimala watches Nepalis returning home from all over the world on the evening news. She says: “Deep down, I wish that maybe Rajendra could also come home like them.”  <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/article/nation/On-the-sidelines-of-justice,1594" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">On the sidelines of justice</a>, Trishna Rana--Shanta Neupane’s husband Danda Pani was a member of the Maoist party. As the insurgency was intensifying in 1999, he was arrested by police put into a van and driven away. He has never been seen again.“In the days following his arrest, I visited the three main jails in Kathmandu. But I was told everywhere that my husband had never been arrested or detained,” Shanta says.The Supreme Court quashed her writ of habeas corpus on the same grounds that there were no records of Danda Pani ever being arrested.Shanta then opted for non-legal ways to seek the truth, organising a press conference and writing an appeal to the Parliament. But there was no word of her husband’s whereabouts.“My hair has turned grey searching for him. I regret that our children had to grow up without their father,” she says.On the thirteenth anniversary of his disappearance, Danda Pani Neupane’s case was submitted to the United Nations Human Rights Committee. But to this day, there has been no information about who or why he was arrested, if he is dead or alive, not has his family received justice.<a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19345" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Truth without justice is an insult</a>, Robert Godden--Gyanendra Tripathi was the member of a student union affiliated with the Maoist party.   Following the breakdown of the second ceasefire in 2003, the Royal Nepal Army began to  round up members of the student union.Gyanendra was arrested first time for 34 days, seven of which he spent in solitary confinement, blindfolded and severely beaten. Following his release, fearing for his own safety and that of his family, Gyanendra went underground. On 26 September 2003 at 11:00AM he left his home and never returned.Ever since, his wife Sharmila Tripathi has searched for him tirelessly. She pleaded at every police station, filed complaints, wrote letters to government ministries, human rights organizations. She even took part in hunger strikes to bring more attention to her husband’s disappearance.Her case went all the way up to the United Nations Human Rights Committee, which on 28 October 2014 found Nepal had violated Gyanendra’s right to life, to personal liberty, to recognition before the law and the prohibition of torture.Sharmila says, “I still have no idea of my husband’s whereabouts, but I still have hope. I will continue the search for him as long as I live.”   30 August is International Day of the Disappeared, and Nepali Times is bringing a series of features over the next few days on the survivors of the decade-long conflict and the families that the <a href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_827.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">disappeared left behind</a>. <img width="197" height="300" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7bb9c7e80680e07379cjpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/article/business/tale-of-two-commissions%20,1275" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The tale of two commissions</a>, Binita Dahal

Disappearance of justice

<figure><img width="1500" height="994" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95cc9c7e80680e05dc2bjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: PETER DEAN</figcaption></figure>If there is one book you must set aside, either for new year holiday reading or as a Christmas gift to a fellow traveller, it would be <a href="https://www.talesfromthehimalaya.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tales from the Himalaya</a> by the British climber-turned-trekker Henry Edmundson, which has just been published by Vajra Books.Edmundson was a boy when news came to his home in England that Hillary and Tenzing had climbed Mt Everest. His father, an outdoorsy type, immediately took the family out on a celebratory hike over the hills. Soon, Edmundson was devouring books on mountaineering and exploration. Read Also:  <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=35947&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Lumba Sumba Passage,</a> Henry Edmundson“It became a sort of obsession,” Edmundson said in Kathmandu this month after a trek to Lumba Sumba. His wife, and lifelong trekking partner Connie, piped in: “Not just ‘sort of’.”By age 19, Edmundson was climbing in Kashmir and in Balistan in Pakistan, and in the past nearly 50 years he has trekked almost the entire Himalayan arc, from Afghanistan to Bhutan. The Kangchenjunga Base Camp-Lumba Sumba was one of the last missing bits before he did it this year.The view from Lumba Sumba pass towards Kangchenjunga is the cover image of Tales from the Himalaya. The title may sound a bit prosaic for a personal encyclopaedia of the Himalaya spanning everything from the politics, geopolitics, geo-tectonics, geography, geology, cartography, history, adventure, culture and religion of these mountains. Vast in scope, and leaving out no details however slight, it is clear this is Edmundson’s life’s work.Graduating in mathematical logic, he worked for an oil prospecting company to bring out a technical journal, and kept a meticulous diary of all his treks, fully intending to write a book about the experiences one day. “I wanted the book to be holistic because I believe in a non-specialist approach to make the subject interesting to non-experts,” Edmundson explains. “I try to make complicated things simple and not make simple things complicated.”The book is divided into thematic chapters that are interwoven with his own personal travels across the Himalaya: Religion, Geology, Politics and Society — the last chapter dealing exclusively with Nepal’s political transition from war to peace, and up to the 2015 earthquake and Indian Blockade and their aftermath.When he first arrived in Kathmandu in 1971 as a young lad, Edmundson had three letters of introduction from John Tyson, who was part of an unsuccessful attempt on Mt Api in 1953: one to the British Ambassador, another to trekking pioneer <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/hiking-with-jimmy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Col Jimmy Roberts</a> and one to Swiss pilot <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9306#.XczeotIza70" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hardy Furer</a>. That gave him all the access he needed to set off to the deep hinterland, with the help of legendary porter activist <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9296#.Xczez9Iza70" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mike Cheney</a>.For his first trek, the author’s team chose one of the most difficult ones they could find: to Kanjiroba and Dhorpatan. In that respect, Edmundson was doing the Great Himalayan Trail even before the concept was invented, confining himself not just to the Nepal Himalaya but to the entire 3,000km mountain arc. Along the way, he encountered more than just adventures in the wild: he found himself in the middle of a skirmish in Kashmir, in an earthquake in Nepal and witnessing the changes to trekking brought by new mountains roads and the climate crisis.One useful thing about this book is that you do not need to read it cover to cover. Curled up on a cosy sofa by the fire, you can open up any section and start reading. There is a lucid account of Toni Hagen and his early geological exploration of Nepal, which leads directly into seismicity and the orogenesis of the 1934 and 2015 earthquakes. Backgrounds to more political upheavals in mountains are also all here, starting from the British Afghan campaign of 1847, the Chinese annexation of Tibet and the Sino-India War of 1962, right up to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2013/05/26/remember-what-happened/">Nepal’s Maoist conflict</a>.Edmundson has put a huge amount of work into this book, in terms of research, gathering illustrations and maps, and the sheer exertion of undertaking trips across some of the most arduous terrain on Earth.Maybe you do not need a more exciting title when the content is so stimulating. And, finally, we have a Western writer who does not pluralise the word ‘Himalaya’.  <img width="300" height="346" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95cf9c7e80680e05dc2cjpeg.jpg" alt="">   <a href="https://vajrabookshop.com/categories/vajra-publications/products/tales-from-the-himalaya" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tales from the Himalaya: Religion, Science, Politics, Society</a> by Henry Edmundson <a href="https://vajrabookshop.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Vajra Books</a>, Kathmandu, 2019 424 pages, Rs4,800 ISBN 978-9937-9330-3-2

Kunda Dixit

A personal encyclopaedia of the Himalaya

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107141112/636904979c7e80680e037d2fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="976"/>Lucia de Vries first saw the majesty of the Himalaya in Gilgit of Pakistan 25 years ago, and fantasised about becoming a Himalayan explorer. The Karakoram was mesmerising and mysterious to this young Dutch woman, and she dreamed of expeditions to unknown peaks. She wanted to follow the footsteps of the early Dutch missionaries Samuel van der Putte who <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1979#.W4fL9s4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">travelled to Lhasa</a> via Nepal in 1720, and Petrus Rijnhart who was killed in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1979#.W4fu6SQzaM9" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tibet</a>.De Vries herself was at the Jokhang temple in Lhasa when Chinese troops fired at demonstrators, and soon after nearly died when she got lost during a blizzard in Tibet. She was rescued by nomads, but her frostbite was so severe she had to be hospitalised in Austria.“I gave up my dream of exploring the Himalaya and decided to be an arm-chair Himalayan traveller,” recalls de Vries, who first came to Nepal in 1988, and then decided to move here in 1992. “My main motivation was to do something more useful in life using my journalism skills, and to learn more about Buddhism and Hinduism.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18580#.W4fMS84zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tashi Delek</a>, Dhanvantari by Buddha Basnyat, MDShe worked with the environmental group NEFEJ on its publication Haka Haki, set up a publishing house for children’s books and wrote from Nepal for the Dutch and Belgian media. With friends, she established Animal Nepal in 2003 to take care of abandoned dogs and pets.De Vries decided to commemorate her 25 years in Nepal with an anthology of writings from the Himalaya that had inspired her. The volume Mountain Bound contains material by everyone, from the 19th century British surgeon <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Review/://nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/pencilling-in-kathmandu-rajman-singh-chitrakar,3379" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Henry Ambrose Oldfield</a> to the Japanese explorer monk <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927#.W4fNr84zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, and right down to the American climber Arelene Blum – all people whom de Vries admires for their courage and pioneering journeys of discovery.‘For someone who grew up in a country whose horizons are unmarked by any kind of elevation, located partly below sea level, living in the Himalaya was not an obvious choice,’ de Vries writes in her Foreword to Mountain Bound.De Vries has grown to love Kathmandu Valley, and the familiar silhouette of ‘<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6434#.W4fN9c4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Champadevi</a> and her sisters’ as well as the snowy ramparts to the north that are almost home. However, she laments: ‘Kathmandu today is a far cry from the place I fell in love with three decades ago.’<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107141112/6369049a9c7e80680e037d30jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="677"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Her beloved Himalayan mountains are being ravaged by bad roads and unregulated urbanisation, and with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/mountainous-change,887" target="_blank" rel="noopener">climate change the mountains are more vulnerable</a> than ever before.The book is a tribute to the Himalaya, and the 46 explorers (all European, except one Japanese) who were moved by the mountains to write in awe about them. The excerpts from 19th and 20th century are by ‘missionaries, mountaineers, mystics and mercenaries’. The earliest writing is by the Tuscan Jesuit Ippolito Desideri, whose account of his journey to Lhasa in 1716 is included in the book because it was published in 1904.For those overwhelmed by the available literature on the mountaineering, culture and history of the Himalaya (or don’t have the budget to buy all the books) Mountain Bound is a useful primer. You get a glimpse of the adventures of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=656#.W4fOl84zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">people like William Kirkpatrick</a>, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/spreading-benefits-of-mountaineering-to-other-areas-in-nepal,2190" target="_blank" rel="noopener">George Mallory</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9990#.W4fO2s4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Peter Matthiessen</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2018/01/13/commemorating-edmund-hillary/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Edmund Hillary</a>, George Schaller, or Christopoh von Fürer-Haimendorf, so that you can always go and buy their books if you liked what you read. There is a useful glossary of the source books at the end.Lucia de Vries has slipped in one of her own writings (The Winds of Chait) to the anthology, which is a haunting profile of a Dalit Maoist guerrilla, Chandra, who was killed by the Army in an unnamed village in Central Nepal. It is one of the most nuanced reportage of the Maoist conflict by a western journalist, and peels off the layers of caste, class, social injustice, state neglect and violence that lay at the root of the conflict.This last paragraph from the chapter is a lyrical portrait of the Nepali landscape during the war years: ‘Walking the trail towards the village, Chandra must have looked up at the mud houses, huddled together like sleeping dogs. His eyes must have trailed along the ridge … to the flowering fruit trees of his ancestral home. He must have noticed the freshly ploughed fields, rich golden brown, waiting for a new life.’<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/161/Travel/4062#.W4fMSs4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepalis on the plateau</a>, Mark Turin and Sara Shneiderman

Moving mountains

Nepal’s only international aviation gateway, at Kathmandu airport, will cut night-time operation hours to allow construction of taxiways, and airlines have been told to curtail flights. This is expected to lead to more than normal chaos during the height of peak autumn and spring tourist seasons at an airport that is congested even at the best of times. The airport will close from 10PM to 8AM from 8 November-31 March 2025. The taxiways will now connect to the thresholds at both ends of the runway, making the airport more efficient in handling higher frequencies of landings and takeoffs. The parallel taxiway extension will allow international flights to land every 4 minutes instead of the current every 7 minutes. At present planes have to wait to land until a plane taking off backtracks along the runway.&nbsp; Kathmandu is Nepal’s only airport with international operations, and it has only one runway that is only one way in from the south over the mountains. With the taxiway improvement, the airport will be able to handle 42 aircraft landings and takeoffs per hour — double the current capacity.&nbsp; The Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) has been trying to entice international airlines to also start flying to and from the other two international airports at Pokhara and Bhairawa (Lumbini) by slashing landing and handling charges. But so far only Nepal Airlines operates a weekly flight to Bhairawa from Kuala Lumpur.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2356" height="1134" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport expansion"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Airport Expansion plan with extension of taxiways to the thresholds of runways 02 and 20 that will limit airport operations from 8 November 2024 - 31 March 2025. Areas in blue are existing structures, including the international terminal which in future will be the domestic airport, and the new international terminal near the north end of the runway,</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1353" height="1328" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport NT"> </figure>  CAAN has reportedly told international airlines to cut their flight frequency to Kathmandu citing the shorter operation hours and has told budget airlines to shift some of their flights to Pokhara or Bhairawa, or face cuts. Many airlines currently operate regular flights to and from Kathmandu between 10PM and 8AM: Air Arabia to Sharjah, Fly Dubai to Dubai, Jazeera Airways to Kuwait, Cathay Pacific to Hong Kong, Singapore Airlines, several Nepal Airlines flights, and one of four daily flights by Qatar Airways to Doha. Jazeera Airways, FlyDubai, and Thai AirAsia have applied and got permission from CAAN to begin regular flights to Bhairawa’s Gautam Buddha International Airport. Starting 9 November, FlyDubai will start making a stopover in Bhairawa before flying on to Kathmandu. Immigration, customs and security are all fully functional in Bhairawa. In Kathmandu, the next phase of the airport upgrade includes converting the current international terminal for domestic operations, the construction of a new international terminal where the domestic departure area is now, as well as moving the hangars and the Nepal Army Air Wing to the eastern side of the runway. The apron area will also double its parking space for widebody jets. This is part of a Airport Capacity Enhancement Project that was initially funded through a $80 million loan from the Asian Development Bank (ADB), and the entire masterplan is expected to cost $800 million. This project is the latest upgrade to Nepal’s only international airport since it saw its first flight in 1949. The current international and domestic terminals are too small to handle the current annual traffic volume of 8.5 million passengers a year that is growing at 20% a year.

Kathmandu airport to cut flight hours

As Kathmandu becomes more congested and polluted, and with remote online work becoming the norm, many professional Nepalis are planning to retire in Pokhara, or move there.&nbsp; With its stunning mountain panorama, balmy winters and proximity to a profusion of wilderness areas, builders are responding to this demand with new townhouses, housing development and apartments. One such block of flats is the 10-storey <a href="https://sungavaapartment.com/">Sungava Apartment</a> located at Phulbari above the Seti River, near the point where it flows into and under Pokhara. The imposing structure near Manipal Hospital is almost complete, and on a recent visit the site was strewn with huge boulders unearthed while digging the foundation.&nbsp; The Seti brought down these boulders during a gigantic flood that geologists estimate happened 800 years ago when a chunk of Annapurna IV broke off and ploughed into the glacier below. Today, Sungava (means ‘orchid’) sits safely on a high terrace, 100m above the blue-green Seti and commands a view of Dhaulagiri, Annapurna South, Machapuchre, Annapurna III and IV.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  The soil here is conglomerate that has solidified like concrete, and the boulders were extracted by heavy earthmovers. It is intriguing to think that these metamorphic rocks as big as cars, rounded by glacial grinding, were once a part of a much higher Annapurna IV. Even for those with little interest in geology, Sungava is an ideal place to contemplate the tectonic forces that pushed these peaks into the sky to be sculpted into delicate shapes by wind, snow, earthquake and avalanche over millions of years. The view of the Himalayan panorama from Sungava’s many balconies are breathtaking when not obscured by clouds, or the haze that drifts in from across the southern border. On most days, just watching the towering pyramid of Machapuchre (Tamu name: कतासुँ क्लिको) play hide and seek with the clouds is mesmerising. There are rocks aplenty at Phulbari, and it is probably the flowers that grew along the flat terraces e that gave the place its flowery name. The boulders will hopefully be turned into a rock garden while landscaping. An nearby restaurant complex is making the best use of the stones in its design, using flat rocks as outdoor benches and tables. Sungava was designed by the husband-wife architect team of Deepak Sherchan and Jyoti Joshi of <a href="https://thedarkmermaidamarbshrestha.blogspot.com/2013/12/creative-builders-collaborative-cbc.html">Creative Builders Collaborative (CBC)</a>, which also built Heritage Plaza, Indreni Apartment and numerous other projects in Nepal. Sadbhavana retains CBC’s trademark Newari-style masonry and here it borrows from the orange brickwork of the old town of Pokhara, integrating it with modern design elements. A few of those heritage houses are still standing in Ganesh Tole and Ram Krishna Tole in Pokhara’s old quarter.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab" data-rendition-name="original" width="1362" height="595" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  About 400m from the apartment past a bend on the river, and down below three tiers of terraces in the canyon is a suspension bridge. Below it, the Seti is still swollen with post-monsoon flow as it tumbles away in a hurry to head down south.&nbsp; Back at the apartment, it is quiet, far away from the hubbub of Lakeside a 15 minute drive away, and in the lap of greenery. There are 52 units at Sungava and it already has a close-knit prospective community of professionals, including doctors, publishers, engineers, and businesspeople from the renewable energy and IT sectors.&nbsp; Some residents say they opted for a second home in Pokhara to make it a ‘base camp’ to explore the Annapurnas with its many hiking trails made newly accessible with new roads. With the NRN citizenship law, overseas Nepalis can now also buy the flats. &nbsp; The floor plans include options for north and south-facing 3-bedroom apartments with verandas, and the facility has underground parking has EV charging, heated pool, sauna and gym. There are still some unsold apartments with panoramic views of the mountains and one can imagine oneself at the kitchen with its huge window, humming a ditty while preparing breakfast: “खाना पकाउँ हिमाल हेरेर...”

High living below the Himalaya

When the United Nations held its Summit of the Future at its headquarters in New York in September, many world leaders, including Nepal’s Prime Minister K P Oli, highlighted the effect of climate breakdown in increasing the frequency and intensity of natural disasters. What did not get as much attention was the long term impact of the climate crisis on food production. In fact, heat stress, weather extremes and the consequences on rain-fed agriculture is already being felt worldwide, undermining the chances of the <a href="https://unstats.un.org/sdgs/">UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)</a> being met by 2030.&nbsp; The SDG’s 17 targets commit countries like Nepal to reduce poverty and inequality, end malnutrition, protect the natural environment, and ensure that citizens all enjoy health, justice and prosperity without leaving anyone behind.&nbsp; However, besides the impact of climate breakdown on agricultural production, in Nepal the area under cultivation is impacted by urban expansion, falling productivity and the need for expensive inputs like fertiliser and pesticides.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Kathmandu's urban sprawl is eating into its fertile cultivable lands. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  Now, a new study led by Nepali researcher Prajal Pradhan at the University of Groningen in The Netherlands looks at how urban agriculture may offer a solution to falling food production and meeting SDG targets. The researchers evaluated 1,450 publications exploring the contributions of urban agriculture with both positive and negative effects, and published their findings in the journal Cells Report Sustainability. Urban agriculture can help achieve 17 SDGs, positively influencing 81 targets. However, it could also undermine 51 goals.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land">The vanishing land</a>, Taylor Mason “Urban agriculture offers immense potential for sustainable development, but realising this potential depends crucially on adopting practices that minimise its adverse effects while maximising its benefits,” Pradhan explains. Urban agriculture can substantially enhance urban food security, provide employment to the urban poor, serve as ground water recharge in built-up areas, and preserve open spaces that can serve as safe havens during disasters like earthquakes. However, it also presents problems like the potential health risks from contamination and the need for expensive inputs. &nbsp; “Urban agriculture plays a definitive role in advancing the SDGs, but achieving this requires tailored, context-specific solutions that address the unique challenges of different regions,” says Yuanchao Hu of Wuhan University in China and who is a researcher at the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research. “But it needs equitable access and rigorous management of environmental risks.”&nbsp; Rapid urbanisation is eating into Nepal’s most fertile agricultural land, which means farming in remaining open spaces inside cities can be a viable alternative, especially as food prices rise.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>A vegetable patch in between new houses in Thimi. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  “The conversion of Nepal’s most fertile land into cities is a severe problem,” Pradhan told Nepali Times. “Crop cultivation, horticulture, agroforestry, beekeeping, livestock rearing, or aquaculture can all be farming activities within and around cities.”&nbsp; The study makes recommendations for sustainable practices that build on the positive aspects of urban agriculture while mitigating the downsides, thereby promoting more resilient cities in future. Research shows that urban agriculture has been helping many countries attain SDG targets by enhancing food security and biodiversity while helping education and preservation of open spaces.&nbsp; Indeed, many farmers from the hinterland who have settled in Kathmandu Valley or other urban areas of the country have been practicing urban agriculture, leasing neighbourhood patches or cultivating roof gardens both out of necessity because of inflation and falling income to grow their own food, and also as a fulfilling hobby. Saurav Dhakal, a sustainability advocate with Story Cycle and now research fellow at the Asian Institute of Technology in Thailand, says there are socio-economic and environmental benefits of urban agriculture. “It provides benefits to all urban dwellers, regardless of their income status,” says Dhakal, “families get fresh food, and there are many other benefits like water retention, heat regulation and biodiversity. These are all public goods, so special government incentives may be needed.” It is not unusual to see vegetable patches and even paddy fields within inner city Kathmandu where an older generation of farmers are using available fertile land and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/rooftop-gardens-kathmandu,1415">roof gardens to produce fresh, nutritious food </a>to reduce their dependence on food items that have to be bought after being trucked in from large distances.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>An older generation of farmers are using any available fertile land to continue farming but it is getting more and more difficult. Photo: TAYLOR MASON </figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s urban population grew rapidly from only 3.6% in 1991 to 25% today. There is large outmigration from the mountains to peri-urban areas of the Tarai, to Kathmandu Valley and Pokhara, with many young men then moving abroad for work. Kathmandu Valley’s population has swelled to nearly 3 million, and is growing at 6.5% a year. Dilip Shrestha, 71, used to work for Nepal Food Corporation, so he knew firsthand about inflation, shortages and vegetables with pesticide residue. So, when he designed his new house in Kathmandu, he built a spacious roof where he grows cucumber, ginger, garlic, coriander, onions, tomatoes, chili, beans, okra, pumpkin and lettuce. His family eats healthier, and he has reduced dependence on the market.&nbsp; The co-author of the Cell Reports Sustainability journal article, Daya Raj Subedi who is a PhD candidate at Beijing Forestry University, says urban agriculture also promotes inclusion and psycho-social wellbeing.&nbsp; He says, “A crucial finding of the study is the identification of opportunities and challenges associated with urban agriculture, it can promote sustainable transformation of society.” In Banepa, 55-year-old Bijaya Manandhar in her lifetime has watched the fertile farms of her neighbourhood that used to supply vegetables to Kathmandu, now completely built up with no open space left. The pandemic lockdown prompted her to turn to the family’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world">ancestral livelihood by growing food</a> not on terrace farms, but on the roof terrace. Manandhar is now a part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world%5C%5C">कौसी खेती र करेसाबारी क्रान्ती</a> (Rooftop Farming and Garden Revolution) which has an online membership of 52,000, and awards annual prizes to women who excel in urban agriculture.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="736" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Rooftop farming is gaining popularity as a form of urban agriculture. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> </figure>  Pradhan says the challenge now is to upscale such examples of successful urban agricultural practices so they support Neal’s efforts to meet SDG targets. He adds, “Crop cultivation around cities can be protected by land use plans and regulations. Promoting community-based agriculture, including rooftop gardens, requires community engagement and public-private partnerships across the food value chain.”&nbsp; Such support would accelerate the popularity of existing rooftop farming and community gardens in Kathmandu Valley, or kitchen garden initiatives in Pokhara, and building on traditional farming practices that are preserved and integrated into urban settings like in Bhaktapur and Banepa. In Lalitpur, the Women Entrepreneurship Facilitation Center promotes urban farming enhancing both sustainability and empowerment.&nbsp; Another co-author of the report, Yuanchao Hu from China says followup research of the team will aim to identify good practices in local urban agriculture practices. He adds, “There are examples of urban agriculture that optimise sustainability, ensuring that it remains a viable solution for cities globally while countries try to meet SDG targets.” Prajal Pradhan, Daya Raj Subedi, Kshitij Dahal, Yuanchao Hu, Prakriti Gurung, Sijal Pokharel, Sagar Kafle, Biplav Khatri, Sudeeksha Basyal, Monika Gurung, and Aruna Joshi. Urban Agriculture matters for sustainable development. Cell Reports Sustainability, 1:100217, 2024. [DOI: 10.1016/j.crsus.2024.100217] Prajal Pradhan (<a href="mailto:p.pradhan@rug.nl">p.pradhan@rug.nl</a>) This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

Back to the land in the cities

The 700-year-old Lakshmi Narasingha temple in Bhaktapur houses a rare half-lion and half-human incarnation of Lord Vishnu carrying the Goddess Lakshmi. The temple was destroyed in the 1934 mega earthquake that killed 10,000 people and destroyed many monuments in Kathmandu Valley. It was rebuilt by a German project in the 1980s, but as a single-storey structure instead of its original two-tier pagoda design.&nbsp; With new findings from in-depth research, Bhaktapur municipality began re-restoring the temple in 2021, preserving its original architecture.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “Our temples and heritage sites hold deep meaning. It is disheartening to witness how often they lose their original elements, whether by design or accident,” explains Kumar Chawal of the Consumer Committee of Bhaktapur. “There is a need to preserve our architecture and protect its historical value for future generations. Otherwise, we risk losing a vital part of our identity.” The Laksmi Narsingha restoration is similar to the Bhai Dega temple in Patan Darbar Square which also collapsed in 1934, but was rebuilt with a Moghul-style dome by the Rana government at the time. Only two months before the 2015 earthquake, heritage conservationists had started to rebuild Bhai Dega as the original three-tier based on early photographs. But priorities shifted when four other temples in the square were brought down by the 7.8M earthquake on 25 April 2015.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  This showed how damage to monuments in Kathmandu Valley spanned from one earthquake to the next. Bhai Dega restoration remains half-complete to this day because money for its restoration ran out.&nbsp; Whereas Bhai Dega restoration was done by the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust with grants from western embassies and international foundations, in Bhaktapur it is the municipality itself that allocated the Rs30.7 million needed to restore the Lakshmi Narasingha temple. The expected date of completion is early 2025. The municipality and local communities are focusing on two main aspects: preserving the past and promoting localisation. The restoration team has designed a blueprint for the temple by using historical photographs and insights from older generations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="560" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “At first, the Lakshmi Narasingha temple had only one entrance, but during the demolition process, we uncovered the foundations of four doors. Now, we are restoring all of them. This is an example of how our ancient structures have changed over time, often without our knowledge,” says Chawal. “Constructing temples is not like building houses. They carry historical and spiritual values, which is why they hold a special place in our hearts,” he adds. By replicating ancient design elements and rebuilding the temple as accurately as possible to its original form, the team has stayed true to Bhaktapur’s soul. But the restoration also revived ancient techniques that were in danger of being forgotten, generating employment for woodcarvers, masons, and contractors. The community of Bhaktapur’s Gahiti neighbourhood near the famous Nyatapola Temple has also set aside specific days for locals to volunteer in the reconstruction work. This has encouraged young people to take pride in ownership of their heritage. Families have also supported the effort by donating funds for bells, the temple pinnacle, and other structural features to the temple.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “I feel at peace knowing I have contributed my sweat to restoring this temple,” said one volunteer. “It is our duty to preserve our temples and heritage. The Nyatapola area will look magical once this temple is completed.” Community mobilisation is a long-standing tradition in Bhaktapur. In the past, locals have actively participated in the restoration of other temples in the city, such as Bhairav and Nyatapola fostering a strong sense of ownership. This collective engagement has not only been crucial in preserving the city's historical monuments but also in strengthening the bond between local communities and their heritage, says officials at the municipality. While securing funding is essential, and the municipality showed it values heritage conservation, the Lakshmi Narasingha restoration is proof that active involvement and sense of responsibility of the local community is as important, if not more. Local involvement also means that the monuments will be cared for into the future, When locals take ownership of these efforts, the restored monuments are not only protected in the present but are also cared for in the future.