Nineteen years after the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/13-february">end of the Maoist conflict</a>, the former enemies have finally come together to push through the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/disappearance-of-justice">Enforced Disappearances</a> Inquiry, Truth and Reconciliation Commission Act of 2014.&nbsp;
This is the culmination of a two-decade long peace process that finally allowed the Maoists and the leaders they were trying to overthrow to agree on truth, justice and reparations for war crimes their forces were both involved in. Yet, there are still some contentious provisions in the bill and serious doubts persist about its honest implementation.
That Maoist supremo Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda) and Sher Bahadur Deuba of the Nepali Congress stood side by side to receive the report of a special committee last week was hugely symbolic — not just because till 2006 they were trying to kill each other, but also because they have both been prime minister multiple times since then. And time is supposed to heal.
The UML was less of a target during the conflict, and it fell upon Prime Minister K P Oli to steer this consensus. On Wednesday in Parliament, he hailed Nepal’s peace process as “a model of transitional justice for the world”. We don't know about that yet.
Western liberal democracies and the United Nations that had in the past been pushing Nepal hard on transitional justice with prosecution for war crimes <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">have also been more muted about it</a>. US Ambassador to Nepal, the EU Ambassador and the UN Resident Coordinator all posted on social media welcoming the bill despite the inadequacies cited by victims’ groups.
Civil society activists are not convinced the bill will fully address truth and justice issues. They find the definition and classification of wartime excesses still vague and designed deliberately to reduce punishment and prosecution.&nbsp;
‘Any amendment to institutionalise impunity in the name of party consensus is unacceptable,’ said the Accountability Watch Committee in a statement earlier this week. Some conflict victims have also said the bill interferes with the right of the court to define, classify and determine serious violations of human rights.
The bill was relatively easy to push through because the Maoist party is considerably weaker, and is now in the opposition. And once the three leaders of the Maoists, NC and UML agreed, they got victims’ groups affiliated to their parties to sign up. Even though some victims feel the punishment for war crimes is watered down, after 18 years they want to move on.&nbsp;
Last year, former Minister for Law and Constitutional <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal">Affairs Govinda Bandi (Govindaprasad Sharma Koirala) in the Maoist government tried to fast-track this bill</a> with provisions that made a distinction between ‘political murder’ and ‘wartime killing’, and even classified torture into ‘humane’ and ‘inhumane’. It also did not give the right for appeal on a special court verdict.
Bandi’s bill was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-tj-bill-protects-perpetrators-shortchanges-survivors">met with a public outcry</a>, and a cross-party working group was set up to come up with a new draft defining serious violations of human rights, unresolved cases of reparations, and compensation for security personnel who died or were disabled.
The final bill now defines coercive or serious sexual violence, deliberate or arbitrary killings of unarmed people, acts of disappearance and inhuman or cruel torture as ‘violations of human rights’. Families of those killed, those who were injured or became disabled by landmines or war-era explosives are also eligible for compensation.
But the most egregious provision is still the one to reduce punishment ‘by 25%’ as per prevailing law for serious human rights violations except rape and serious sexual violence. How 25% is going to be applied is arbitrary. Proponents of the bill argue that transitional justice should not be viewed from the perspective of criminal justice alone because the crimes were committed during an armed conflict.&nbsp;
More than 60,000 complaints have been filed with the Commission for the Investigation of the Disappeared and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. There is a provision for the Commissions to call for renewed complaints for a period of three months.
Prime Minister Oli wants to form the commission by September before he goes to New York to speak at the UN General Assembly next month. The term of office of the chair and members of the commission will be four years which means the transitional justice process should be complete by September 2028.&nbsp;
But that is easier said than done. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/truth-about-truth-commission,3565">Both commissions have underperformed spectacularly in the past</a> because of lack of political will to face war crimes. There is no guarantee that the next commissioners will be more independent. Their persona and party loyalties will have a significant impact regardless of how good the law is.
So far, Nepal has spent Rs21 billion on reparations for families of the estimated 17,000 people killed or disappeared, and payouts to tens of thousands injured. The ghosts of those who died will continue to haunt the peace process until there is full truth and justice for war crimes.
Santa Gaha Magar

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Nepal's transitory justice

When he was a teenager years ago during the war, the Maoists who held sway over the Dalit village of Muktikot in western Nepal promised Man Bahadur Bishwakarma liberation and prosperity. Many like Man Bahadur believed in that utopia, and took up arms like others from the downtrodden Dalit community here. They even renamed the village Muktikot (Fort Freedom) from its original Dumkot. ‘Dum’ is a derogatory term used to address the Dalit community. Muktikot is spread across a steep mountainside with unirrigated terrace farms. Most of the men migrate to India for seasonal work, others never come back. The women left behind had to walk hours for water, and since there were no roads then, travelling to town for government subsidised rice took at least a week. “The Maoists told us that we would find jobs right here in the village, that every household would have tap water, they promised an end to caste discrimination,” recalls Man Bahadur. “That is why I joined the revolution in Grade 10.” He is talking while walking up a steep trail three hours from Muktikot, where his family has been living in a cattle shed after a landslide damaged his house in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024051804058_bc4d26d047714332fcdd2242229a1227d207a972439e02e3c822aaa118066b3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024051804058_bc4d26d047714332fcdd2242229a1227d207a972439e02e3c822aaa118066b3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot"> <figcaption>Th remote village of Muktikot in Bajura district in far west Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  Most of Muktikot’s young population joined the Maoists, convinced that changing the name of the village was proof this was going to be a real revolution. Eighteen years after the end of the conflict, the only thing that has changed for the nearly 2,300 Dalits in Muktikot is the name of their village. Not that there has not been some progress. There are now motorable roads and residents do not have to walk as far as Kalikot or Dailekh to get a sack of rice. More essentials are available in local shops for those with cash. Man Bahadur himself migrates to India to earn money, and had just returned for a break when we talked to him. “I fought for the Maoists in the hope that I would not have to go to India for work, but there are still no jobs here,” he says. “The Maoists promised a mirage.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024051804058_fcd64c34f689e7a4d44f285bb6a7b6b28329941e2766440ab208c9039a855d31.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024051804058_fcd64c34f689e7a4d44f285bb6a7b6b28329941e2766440ab208c9039a855d31" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot"> <figcaption>Men in Muktikot preparing to migrate to India for work.</figcaption> </figure>  Birth and death Manbuja Bishwakarma has just turned 20, the minimum legal age of marriage in Nepal. But she has been married since age 13, giving birth to five children, three of whom died. “The babies just died one after the other,” recalls Manbuja, who just had to have more babies in the hope that some would survive. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/how-the-climate-crisis-adds-to-child-marriage-in-nepal">How climate crisis adds to child marriage in Nepal</a>, Sonam Lama Her neighbour, 30-year-old Lalkala Bishwakarma has given birth eight times, and only four babies survived. There are women in Muktikot who gave birth to as many as 14 children, and there is not a single mother in Muktikot who has not lost a baby.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024051804058_dd4d62e65cc4ac88cd46a91a62b9c60bcb2d43bbc5cb5455dc7efe4a7d2ff1b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024051804058_dd4d62e65cc4ac88cd46a91a62b9c60bcb2d43bbc5cb5455dc7efe4a7d2ff1b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot"> <figcaption>Lalkala Bishwakarma</figcaption> </figure>  Tilakhuni Bishwakarma, 40, had 10 children, and eight of them survived. Sitting outside her home, she is now surrounded by her grandchildren. Despite Nepal’s total fertility rate now dropping to near replacement level, here in Muktikot infant mortality is still high and this means women have more babies in the hope that some will survive. Child marriage and low female literacy contribute to the high rate of maternal and infant mortality. Community health records show that even in 2021, eight out of 45 infants born in Muktikot died. While Nepal’s average infant mortality rate dropped to 33 for every 1,000 babies born in 2022, &nbsp;the rate was 178 in Muktikot. “The most prominent among the many reasons for the high maternal deaths are early marriage and frequent pregnancy,” says Janaki Neupane, a community nurse in Muktikot. &nbsp; Four years ago, Bachchi Bishwakarma died of a hemorrhage while giving birth to her second child at home. Her husband Gorkha says she had barely survived giving birth to their first child. “I was home alone that day, and I took care of her,” Gorkha recounts. “Our child was born, but my wife bled to death.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518040512_4718183318c77de8bb9b719346b9b19c96bef0984055585b00884f741f905c2e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240518040512_4718183318c77de8bb9b719346b9b19c96bef0984055585b00884f741f905c2e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot"> <figcaption>Tilakhuni Bishwakarma</figcaption> </figure>  Birthing centres were opened in Muktikot last year to address high infant and maternal deaths, but Nurse Neupane says it still lacks basic equipment and budget. Nirmala Bishwakarma got married when she was 13 and was &nbsp;pregnant soon after. She had her first baby, but soon got pregnant again. “Birth brings death here,” Nirmala, now 20, says simply. Nirmala and her children all look emaciated and she weighs only 33kg. Bajura’s district headquarters in Martadi provides nutritional allowance, but Nirmala cannot afford to travel that far to get it. &nbsp; Nepal’s development indicators, including lifespan (page 1) and poverty rate have shown dramatic improvements over the past three decades. But here in Muktikot, hunger stalks the land. In fact, a recent survey showed that 95% of women, children and young adults in Muktikot are undernourished. Most men, on the other hand, look well fed because they are mostly away in India for work. &nbsp; Only 12% of the land in Bajura is arable, but even then there is lack of irrigation, frequent droughts, and now climate breakdown contributing to the lack of food. “The harvests are just not enough to sustain the families,” says Bharat Bahadur Rokaya, chair of Swamikartik Khapar Rural Municipality where Muktikot is located. Here in the rugged mountains of northern Bajura bordering Humla and Mugu, the families grow millet, maize, and wheat, but Nirmala Bishwakarma says the harvests hardly last a month. “If it was not for the subsidised rice we would have empty stomachs,” she says. Hindrances to hygiene Down the mountain from Muktikot, the green waters of the Karnali River are visible. But the 400 Dalit households here have to share just three community taps for drinking water. Half the households do not have toilets, and defecation in the open is common. Donor agencies have helped build toilets, but these are mostly used to store fodder because there is no water. “How can we use water for the toilets where there isn’t enough for drinking?” asks Ward chair Ajay Bishwakarma. &nbsp; Families have to walk for four hours to bathe and do washing. “We do not wash our clothes for months on end,” says Kushi Bishwakarma, 40.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518040516_e234d5b4fac4fa24e62e65a35f2eafbfb044a32a5f8ef8172932eca96eeaa17b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240518040516_e234d5b4fac4fa24e62e65a35f2eafbfb044a32a5f8ef8172932eca96eeaa17b" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="733" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot hygiene"> </figure>  The lack of water has compromised hygiene and sanitation in the village, resulting in diseases like diarrhoea, allergies, and other health issues, especially among children. Lack of water in the village has also led to uterine prolapse among the women in Muktikot since they primarily face the task of ferrying heavy jars of water from the communal taps to their houses The ‘One house, one tap, one toilet’ campaign introduced by the rural municipality this year hopes to solve water-related issues for Muktikot residents. But that is yet another election promise. Testing times This underserved village is not just affected by structural inequality and state neglect. In 2021, a landslide swept away 54 houses in Muktikot, and most families lost homes and what little arable land they had. “Earlier, we at least had a house to live in, now we don’t even have that,” says Muktikot resident Asal Bishwakarma. “We have been living with relatives since. How will we survive?” More than two years after the landslide, not a single house in the village has been rebuilt. Each family was allocated Rs500,000 in relief on an instalment basis, with aid from all three tiers of government.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518040516_26ebf9b2f52722180b1b403b1410f19ea5c7d0321047b099a574a35519706914.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240518040516_26ebf9b2f52722180b1b403b1410f19ea5c7d0321047b099a574a35519706914" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1433" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot landslide"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518040516_bbe50221dca556ac0e798843d672f1190abafacb82fa792bfec289eeb31ad013.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240518040516_bbe50221dca556ac0e798843d672f1190abafacb82fa792bfec289eeb31ad013" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Muktikot landslide"> </figure>  Asal has only received Rs35,000 so far, and has spent it all on buying food. No one knows where the promised money went. Muktikot residents now want their entire village relocated somewhere safer. &nbsp;The local government agrees that resettlement is necessary, but it was unable to find a suitable alternative. “It is not possible to resettle such a large number of people at one go,” says Bajura MP Badri Pandey. “We also cannot create jobs for all of the population at once.” Muktikot might have been declared liberated on paper during a war fought in the name of Nepal’s downtrodden, but this Dalit village is emblematic of promises not kept. Looking around the landslide scarred village he has spent half a century of his life in, Muktikot’s Dhanajay Bishwakarma laments, “We are not even considered humans by the state.”

Muktikot still waiting for liberation

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/antonio-guterres-agenda-in-kathmandu">United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres</a> spent a busy first day in Nepal after landing in Kathmandu at 1AM on Sunday on his four-day visit. He had a one-on-one with Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal, Defence Minister Purna Bahadur Khadka and Foreign Minister N P Saud at their offices in Singha Darbar. He also paid a courtesy call on President Ram Chandra Paudel, visited Patan Darbar Square heritage site and took part in a banquet hosted by Prime Minister Dahal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231029151024_9eb3d96ff0538da012c853f151a54af94ae653412bc9559764af96a5569c812f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20231029151024_9eb3d96ff0538da012c853f151a54af94ae653412bc9559764af96a5569c812f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="António Guterres in Nepal"> <figcaption>António Guterres with president Ram Chandra Paudel. Photo: RATNA SHRESTHA/RSS</figcaption> </figure>  Dahal and Guterres told a press meet that their discussions centred on the international situation, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/no-closure-after-nepal-s-insurgency">Nepal’s peace process</a>, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/for-destruction-ice-is-also-great-and-will-suffice">impact of the climate crisis on the Himalaya</a>, the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals as well Nepal’s imminent graduation from least developed to developing country status. “Our talks were extremely cordial and we spoke frankly about expanding ties between Nepal and the United Nations system,” Dahal said, “we delved deeply into climate impacts, and appreciated the Secretary-General’s role in helping Nepal adapt to the crisis, and for greater future assistance for adaptation.” Dahal also said that Nepal’s peace process was nearing its final phase, adding: “We feel that the UN and the Secretary-General’s role in seeing it through will be important.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231029151024_725f11f9c9bbe69181b9c3cdd6a9be6c72f0c4e0526199f770124ab1d92dd1fb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20231029151024_725f11f9c9bbe69181b9c3cdd6a9be6c72f0c4e0526199f770124ab1d92dd1fb" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="António Guterres in Nepal"> <figcaption>Photo: PRADEEP RAJ ONTA/RSS</figcaption> </figure>  Dahal added that he got the impression that Guterres was well informed about Nepal’s political situation, and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-tj-bill-protects-perpetrators-shortchanges-survivors">transitional justice process</a>. The other matter on the agenda was Nepal’s important role in contributing to the UN’s peacekeeping forces in conflict zones around the world. Dahal said Guterres was full-praise for Nepal’s contribution to peacekeeping. Antonio Guterres told the press that Nepal’s peace process and traditional justice should be concluded adhering to international law, the Supreme Court’s ruling on the matter, and the needs of the survivors and families of the victims. Guterres also met the main opposition leader K P Oli of the UML during which Oli is said to have complained about Dahal still promoting a culture of violence despite the Maoist party having entered democratic politics.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231029151024_daaf2c46d6a9303a37aa671800990ba86d2fe9b6f452594a48bf442e8f1333b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20231029151024_daaf2c46d6a9303a37aa671800990ba86d2fe9b6f452594a48bf442e8f1333b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="António Guterres in Nepal"> <figcaption>António Guterres with the main opposition leader K P Oli of UML. Photo: RSS</figcaption> </figure>  Former foreign minister and UML leader Pradeep Gyawali said Oli told Guterres that he was opposed to the Maoist party pushing the anniversary of the conflict on 13 February as ‘<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/uproar-over-maoist-war-anniversary-holiday">People’s War Day</a>’. “We all need to conclude the peace process and the prime minister as a former guerrilla commander has an important role, but he is actively glorifying violence, and this is worrying for the survivors of the conflict,” Gyawali quoted Oli as telling Guterres. Oli also raised the issue of the Truth and Reconciliation Bill which still has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">provisions for general amnesty for murders and other war crimes</a>, and violates a Supreme Court ruling.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231029151028_5152f622d878e93bc95d92fa6243fb5a11657d7fafee49e710864e283ca1f59c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20231029151028_5152f622d878e93bc95d92fa6243fb5a11657d7fafee49e710864e283ca1f59c" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2113" loading="lazy" alt="António Guterres in Nepal"> <figcaption>Photo: PRADEEP RAJ ONTA/RSS</figcaption> </figure>  “Transitional justice cannot be transitional injustice, and should be governed by the wishes of the survivors and families of the victims,” Oli reportedly said. Nepal’s peace process is regarded as a model for post-conflict societies because of the successful demobilisation of the insurgents, their induction into the national army and rehabilitation of the rest. However, there are some loose ends including <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal">lack of justice against known perpetrators of war crimes</a>, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/20-years-ago-this-week/child-soldiers">recruitment of child soldiers</a> and summary executions and disappearances by state security forces. --- UN Secretary-General's press encounter with the Prime Minister of Nepal THE SECRETARY-GENERAL -- Joint press encounter with the Prime Minister of Nepal, Mr. Pushpa Kamal Dahal ‘Prachanda’ Kathmandu, 29 October 2023 [as delivered] Good afternoon. It is a great pleasure to be back in beautiful Nepal. The Prime Minister and I have just had a very productive meeting and I thank him for his wonderful hospitality. Indeed, the warm welcome that I received in Nepal is something I will never forget. We are living in difficult and tense times. I know that even though the conflict in the Middle East is thousands of miles away, it has hit very close to home for the people of Nepal. I extend my deepest condolences to the families of the ten Nepalese students killed in the terror attacks by Hamas in Israel on 7 October, and my best wishes for the safe return of Mr. Bipin Joshi, who is missing. I have just arrived here from Qatar and I will continue to insist on the immediate and unconditional release of all the hostages in Gaza. And I repeat my utter condemnation of the appalling attacks perpetrated by Hamas. There is no justification, ever, for the killing, injuring and abduction of civilians. The situation in Gaza is growing more desperate by the hours. I regret that instead of a critically needed humanitarian pause supported by the international community, Israel has intensified its military operations. The number of civilians who have been killed and injured is totally unacceptable. All parties must respect their obligations under International Humanitarian Law. That Law emerged from the tragedy and awful experiences of war. I have always been consistent in my call for strict compliance of the well-established principles and rule of International Humanitarian Law. The protection of civilians is paramount. The Laws of War establish clear rules to protect human life and respect humanitarian concerns. Those laws cannot be contorted for the sake of expedience. The world is witnessing a humanitarian catastrophe taking place before our eyes. More than two million people, with nowhere safe to go, are being denied the essentials for life – food, water, shelter and medical care – while being subjected to relentless bombardment. I urge all those with responsibility to step back from the brink. And I reiterate my appeal for an immediate humanitarian ceasefire, the unconditional release of all hostages, and the delivery of a sustained humanitarian relief at a scale that meets the needs of the people of Gaza. We must join forces to end this nightmare for the people of Gaza, Israel and all those affected around the world, including here in Nepal. Ladies and gentlemen, I am here in Kathmandu to strengthen the deep friendship and cooperation between Nepal and the United Nations. Nepal has a long and proud tradition of championing peace and multilateralism. And the United Nations is hugely grateful to Nepal for your support for multilateral solutions – backed up by the enormous contribution you make to peacekeeping missions around the world. Nepal’s progress over the past twenty years has been astonishing: You have become a republic, established peace, and thrown yourselves behind the Sustainable Development Goals and climate action. And there’s more to come. The next few years will be decisive, as Nepal prepares to graduate from Least Developed Country status. And as it embarks on the final stages of the peace process with transitional justice. Transitional justice must help to bring peace to victims, families and communities. The United Nations stands ready to support Nepal to develop a process that meets international standards, the Supreme Court’s rulings, and the needs of victims – and to put it into practice. Nepal is also caught in a blizzard of global crises not of its making: the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, inflation caused by the international economic situation, and the enormous threat posed by climate chaos. Much more international action is needed. Developed countries must step up to support sustainable development, and help developing economies including Nepal to tackle the climate crisis. On this trip, I will visit the Himalayas to see for myself the terrible impact of the climate crisis on the glaciers. The situation is dire and it is accelerating. Nepal has lost close to a third of its ice in just over thirty years. And glaciers are melting at record rates. The impact on communities is devastating and I will meet local people in the Himalayas to hear directly from them about how they are affected. I will travel to Pokhara and to Lumbini, to reflect on the Lord Buddha’s teachings of peace and non-violence, which are more relevant than ever in our deeply troubled world. And I want to explore how the United Nations and Nepal can work together even more to solve problems, boost prospects, and improve international support. Because Nepal is a friend of the world, and so the world must be a better friend to Nepal. Working together, we can make that a reality. Thank you.

António Guterres meets Nepal’s leaders

Nepal must ensure that it maintains peace as it works through its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">transitional justice process</a>, says an expert from Colombia, where violence has not stopped even though an entire legal system was created as part of the South American nation’s 2016 peace agreement.
“The sad part of this story is that we still have war,” judge Caterina Heyck said after a week of workshops and speaking engagements inKathmandu hosted by the International Commission of Jurists (ICJ).
“In Colombia we have a peace agreement, a judicial system, but we lack peace. But in Nepal you are not lacking peace and for me that’s really amazing,” she said. “To be in a taxi in Kathmandu, or to walk on the street at night and to not feel like I might be kidnapped… that peace you should never, ever lose.”
Colombia suffered five decades of conflict with guerrillas of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). As many as 220,000 people were killed, 25,000 disappeared and millions displaced. But FARC splinter groups and other armed outfits still operate in some rural areas, and the current violence is said to be tied to drug trafficking.
“I can’t describe how bad it is to always have war, we are sick and tired of having a war,” added Heyck, whose ex-husband’s three members were kidnapped.&nbsp;
“Even if you ask the victims who suffered the most, more than anything else they want to live in peace,” says the judge, who has written two books on the role of kidnapping during the conflict.
Colombia’s peace agreement included the setting up of a complex court system, the Special Jurisdiction for Peace (SJP), where Heyck is one of the justices. It includes two paths for prosecution: acknowledgement and non-acknowledgement.
Those who admit their acts will receive a ‘restorative sanction’, such as helping to build a bridge or finding and removing landmines. Those who do not receive an ‘alternative’ or ‘ordinary’ prison sentence, depending on whether they finally agree to cooperate.
The position of the perpetrator and the seriousness of the crimes committed are also factored into decision-making about sanctions.
“During peace talks the most difficult point was the design of the judicial system, because it was very obvious that (the top leaders of both the guerrillas and the military) were not going to sign the peace agreement if they were going to go to jail. It was as simple as that,” says Heyck.
In Nepal, where the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal">transitional just process is currently stuck</a>, recent disputes over a transitional justice law have focused on possible amnesty for the Maoists and state-side perpetrators of conflict era atrocities that are considered serious violations of human rights. In fact, it seeks to distinguish between political ‘murder’ and criminal ‘extreme murder’, which activists say renders the whole process meaningless.
A whole generation of young Nepalis has grown up <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/delay-dilute-deny">without the knowledge of the decade-long Maoist insurgency</a> that killed at least 17,000 people. It has been 17 years since the Comprehensive Peace Accord was signed in 2006. Families of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal">over 1,400 disappeared are still waiting for the truth</a>, and survivors of war crimes have not got justice.
Heyck explains that Colombia complies with international law in that it bans amnesty for those who were most responsible. “But they’re not going to go to jail if they acknowledge the truth, they’re just going to have a restorative sentence,” she says, adding, “it’s too early for us to say that we succeeded. It’s the victims who will say in the future if the system was right or wrong.”
Heyck had in-depth experience in international humanitarian law and working as a legal expert with the Colombian government, including as a peace negotiator, when she was one of 38 judges chosen for the SJP among thousands of applications.&nbsp;
Much of her time is spent poring over legal texts and discussing cases with colleagues, but she most enjoys leaving the office to research incidents involving the country’s Indigenous people.&nbsp;
She has also faced immense pressure, including as one of five justices who had to decide if a former FARC leader, Jesús Santrich, should be sent for trial in the United States or protected under Colombia’s non-extradition law.&nbsp;
“It was very tough, the American embassy was involved, and the attorney general at the time was very close to the ambassador,” Heyck explains.&nbsp;
“We asked for the evidence and the Americans did not send it… in the end, three out of five of us voted to provide him with the guarantee of non-extradition, and he was released.”
Today she feels like the wheels of justice are mired in a legal muck. She says: “We have nine years remaining… I know that it’s too little. We cannot grant justice to the victims if the perpetrator dies. Many are already in their 70s, in their 80s. Time is passing so fast, we must hurry.”
Asked whether a transitional justice process is needed in a country like Nepal, where most people appear to have moved on after the conflict Heyck says: “As a judge, as a lawyer, as a person who has worked for human rights, of course the answer would be yes. You cannot leave justice behind.”
But she cautions: “It has to be another type of justice … if after 60 years a former perpetrator who has been living peacefully is going to go to jail. That’s quite crazy. Which is why I go for restorative justice, not for punitive justice. That is the kind of justice that will bring more peace, that will go farther in terms of reconciliation. Because sometimes justice can stoke hatred, and can re-open wounds. That is not advisable.”
In Nepal, however, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/all-is-fair-in-war-and-peace">former guerrilla commander Pushpa Kamal Dahal</a> is now prime minister for the third time and has made insensitive public statements about victims. The transitional justice process is also stuck.

Restorative justice for peace-building

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/637222039c7e80680e0c02e6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>All photos: SANTOSH DAHIT/HIMALKHABAR</figcaption></figure>At the peak of the Maoist conflict in 2002, Prem Kumari Pun fled her village in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-the-frontlines-of-nepals-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">mountains of Rolpa</a> for the relative safety of the plains. It was getting difficult to withstand frequent harassment and threats by the army and Maoist guerrillas.She quit her teaching job at a local school, and moved down to Ghorahi. This meant she had to start from square one.“We were in the war zone, and there would be battles in the surrounding mountains, bombs and bullets everywhere. We teachers would be treated with suspicion by both sides,” Pun recalls. “I loved to teach, and I worked very hard at my job. But saving my family was more important.”In Ghorahi, it was difficult for Prem Kumari to support herself and children without a job. She took up tailoring classes and was a determined student. She won the Best Trainee award in her class, and was contemplating starting her own tailoring shop.What helped was that as a girl in Rolpa, Prem Kumari had learnt to weave hemp from the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-grass-is-greener-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">cannabis plant that grows wild in the mountains of Nepal</a>. She incorporated this skill into her sewing.She registered her business and started collecting hemp fibre in earnest. To keep up with demand, she ordered more of the material from Rukum, Doti and Accham districts to turn into hemp waistcoats, hats, caps, bags and shoes.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/637222099c7e80680e0c02e7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1560" height="1107"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/637222289c7e80680e0c02e8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1072"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The material was new, and most customers in her shop were initially reluctant to try it. Many said it was too rough to be used for clothing.“I remember gifting a waistcoat and hat made from hemp to an official at the district Home and Small Industries Office who was reluctant to wear it,” says Pun. But a few days later, the man was at the shop to buy another pair.The market for Prem Kumari’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/clothed-in-cannabis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">hemp products</a> gradually grew, and customers were attracted to the uniqueness of the material which had a cooling effect in the summer and was warm in the winter.Soon, she even had customers in Japan, UK and USA, where the environmental and fair trade movements had spread awareness in the public about fibres like hemp.But then the Covid-19 pandemic hit, Prem Kumari was forced to cut down staff of 250 to 12. With no international or domestic tourists for most of the past two years, she has been hard-pressed to find customers.But there is optimism in the air again as business picks up. Prem Kumari’s Rs7 million hemp clothing business is once more seeing up to Rs20,000 worth of sales a day.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-nepal-must-legalise-cannabis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Why Nepal must legalise cannabis</a><figure><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Four years ago, Prem Kumari Pun was the recipient of the Best Entrepreneur Award at the National Industrial Goods and Technology Exhibition organised by the Home and Small Industries Development Committee in Kathmandu.Now, Prem Kumari wants to help more entrepreneurs start their businesses but says the state needs to promote local initiatives. Spreading the success would allow Nepalis to finally reap a real ‘peace dividend’ 17 years after the conflict ended.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/money-grows-on-trees-here/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Money grows on trees here</a>, Sahina Shrestha“We were internal conflict refugees, and had to start from scratch in a new place. But our success has shown that it is possible with determination and diligence,” says Prem Kumari, adding, “but a little bit of help from the government like low-interest loans without collateral, especially for women could help.”Adapted by Aria Parasai from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/130573" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepali original</a> at <a href="http://himalkhabar.com/">himalkhabar.com</a>

Nepali reaps peace dividend 17 years after war

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208639c7e80680e0b54e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1189"/><figcaption>Ila Sharma and Hishila Yami in conversation at Indian Embassy, January 2022. Photos: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>Last month, a small group of people sat in a hall at the Indian Embassy, listening to two women in conversation around <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/nepals-maoist-revolution-from-the-inside/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a book by former minister Hisila Yami</a>. What was interesting about this conversation was that it was happening between two women who had  been on opposite sides during Nepal’s Maoist conflict. Hisila Yami, was a former Maoist leader and Ila Sharma, a former election commissioner whose husband was killed by the Maoists.…When snail-mails arrived at my hostel in a hill-town in India in 1996, a friend wrote saying a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/revisiting-maoist-demands,2860" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist insurgency</a> had begun in Nepal. Then, while watching the news in the hall one evening, Ms Chakraborty said: You have a Naxalite movement in Nepal, it seems. I looked at her and then at the tv. Naxalite movement? My teenage mind had a difficult time stringing terms 'insurgency' and 'Naxalite'.I had little knowledge of what was going on in Nepal. But every time I came home on vacation, meal time conversations spilled with news about the Maoists. My mornings at home began with parents focusing on the Kantipur daily spread before them, reading bits of news aloud -- much of it about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-unpunished-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">people being killed across Nepal</a>.…Soon after I returned to Kathmandu for good, I received an offer to work at the Indian Embassy’s Press and Information and Culture section. As someone who had just returned with an inflated ego pumped in by convent education, I thought I could take the world by storm. And so, I worked at the embassy as a translator, carefully transcribing news, a lot of which was on <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/hospital-destroyed-in-conflict-and-earthquake,2971" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Army-Maoist clashes</a>. The work took a toll on me and I quit to go back to studies -- I had become tired of recording death, not knowing then that there was going to be more.…As a broadcaster, I spent endless hours writing and reading news about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-scars-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bombings and ambushes</a>. For a sheltered urbanite, who at that time was doing armchair journalism, the Maoists appeared to be at a great distance.I would only meet Maoist cadres much later at the Gokarna Resort, when covering the Government-Maoist peace talks. (Future rounds would happen in Baluwatar, and reporters would all wait through chilly nights, shivering.) When sharing common space, the mystery and romanticism the 'insurgents' had become shrouded in, based on third-hand information, gradually faded away.…A conversation to mark Women’s Day: on the dias at Nepal Tourism Board are Shahana Pradan, Kalpana Dhamala and other women leaders. I am an trainee reporter, who ends up filing about how women representing different sides of politics were able to share a platform that day. I fiercely disagree with violence, but I still thought the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12936#.Yf388i2B2b8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">insurgency had given something to some Nepali women</a> -- a voice.…<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208669c7e80680e0b54e4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On a foggy December morning, I sat at the Shaktikhor Camp talking to Maoist deputy commander Uday Bahadur Chalaune. I wrote about how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/ex-guerrillas-regret-the-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist rebels</a> were languishing in the camps, while their leaders who had shed so much blood on their way to power, reigned in newfound glory. During our conversation, Chalaune and the others reiterated their party stand, at times nodding their heads in that familiar way.Eventually, Chalaune and his relatives would choose the golden handshake instead of integration. Was he disillusioned with the long wait? I have often wanted to meet him again and ask him.…In her one-roomed home in Bhaktapur, Sunita Regmi 'Yojana', a former Maoist warrior, offers me tea. She wears a prosthetic after losing a leg during an attack of an army barrack. During our conversation, she tells me she wants their daughter to grow up to have nothing to do with politics. It makes a good quote to end my story with. I have never met the family again, but have hoped that they have been able to educate the child as Yojana had hoped to.…Jelbang is sunny but cold. Everywhere you turn, you meet someone who lost a loved one to the war. In Thabang, a strange coldness seems to have settled over conversations with outsiders. Who do you trust? Something about the neatness of the place makes me want to stay longer, but it also feels too far away from home. Sadness looms in the air, and I think I probably made it up in my head.…Over the years, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war/">Kiran Chaudhary</a> has become the closest subject to my heart. She awaits justice, years since her <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/wartime-rape-victims-of-Kanchanpur-speak-out-wait-for-justice,4222" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rape</a>-in-custody by the APF during the war. She comes to Kathmandu once a year to see doctors who are still treating her violated body. Her time in Kathmandu is spent shuttling between hospital and the National Human Rights Commission.…Years on, I have never been able to come to terms with the violence that unfolded during the war. Attending the conversation at the Indian Embassy between women who are a privileged minority -- women like me, who went to schools in India and can read and write English text -- made me wonder what Nepal’s endless political wrangling has really done to propel <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-leaders-seen-but-not-heard/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women into politics</a>.Sharma, the father of whose children was among the first casualties of the war, said during the conversation that the way forward to a peaceful politics is to make use of the right to vote. In Nepal, a generation of us grew up without an election for the longest time, and I still don’t vote because I have come to believe that an annulled vote is also a vote.During the conversation, Sharma asked Yami how she now feels about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-the-frontlines-of-nepals-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the war</a> to which so many people on both sides were lost. Yami paused, sighed, expressed regret and then said history is evidence that revolution always demands sacrifices.I have become stuck in her pause. Watching Ila Sharma and Hisila Yami was to watch a repeat of the reconciliation process. But it made me wonder: is reconciliation even a thing after what has passed?Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

Vignettes from war

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101116/637208209c7e80680e0b54cejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1119"/><figcaption>Takam village (above) in Dhaulagiri Municipality is a model for how federalism should function. Photos: JOY STEPHENS</figcaption></figure>Bal Bir Biswakarma from the village of Lulang at the lap of Mt Dhaulagiri in Central Nepal is a 68-year-old subsistence farmer, descendants of metal smiths who settled here centuries ago to smelt copper ore.When the copper ran out, he became a high altitude porter, summiting Mt Lhotse and even rock climbing in Wyoming in the United States. But, as Joy Stephens <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-clouds-are-lifting-below-dhaulagiri/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">writes in her travelogue</a> most of his life Bal Bir Biswakarma has been living hand-to-mouth in this Dalit village high up in the mountains.Since 2017, Lulang is a part of Dhaulagiri Municipality and elected Thamsara Pun as mayor who took the revolutionary step of moving the headquarter from the traditional power centre of Takam to Muna village to make it better accessible to the region’s indigenous and Dalit populations.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101116/637208239c7e80680e0b54cfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="792"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the past five years, villagers have begun to see improvements in healthcare, education and jobs, thanks to political devolution gained through Nepal’s new federal structure. Pun is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/all-politics-is-local/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">looking forward to fast-tracked local elections</a> on 18 May, and the chance to serve five more years.This is what federalism means in practice: giving voice to the voiceless, letting under-served communities take charge so they can better take care of themselves. Dhaulagiri Municipality is also a reminder to the squabbling political class in faraway Kathmandu, some of whom have prematurely declared federalism dead without even letting it prove its worth.Excitement about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/think-nationally-vote-locally/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">local elections</a> is already palpable across rural Nepal, but a cynical and pessimistic political class in the national capital does not want to let go of power and resources. In fact, despite a federal Constitution, political decision-making is more centralised than ever before.While the rights of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/polls-in-the-time-of-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">local governments</a> are enshrined in the Constitution, it is not followed in the spirit with access to resources for them to actually perform.“Federalism is the sum total of everything we Nepalis have gone through, from various governing structures to the Maoist conflict, the Madhes Movement and everything in between,” explains Khimlal Devkota, recently elected to the National Assembly.“Federalism stands for stability, development and devolution and we had high expectations, expecting quick results,” he adds. “In some ways we have succeeded, people don’t have to rely on Kathmandu for everything. But the centre is still involved in everything from hydropower plants to erecting view towers.”The 2015 Constitution <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/trial-error-democracy,3713" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">devolved rights to local and sub-national governments</a>, but the necessary laws were not in place until after elections. This meant a confusing transition regarding jurisdiction which threatened to undermine past gains in areas like community forestry, public health and education.“Coordination between the governments, vertical and horizontal, is a pillar of federalism and so is functional demarcation,” says Balananda Paudel who headed the Local Bodies Restructuring Commission. “Our laws are riddled with lack of clarity in some places and elsewhere there is a problem of overlapping functions for different levels of government.”This results in a perpetual blame-game between different levels of government, and a lack of accountability. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-f-word/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Federalism</a>, therefore, is still work in progress and this year’s series of elections will hopefully result in greater devolution.One of the reasons federalism got a bad name is that in the past years, it also decentralised corruption. Of the 753 local governments, one-third have elected chairs and mayors who are contractors and have awarded themselves <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hiding-their-head-in-the-sand/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">sand-mining</a>, road-building and quarrying  contracts.Which is why upcoming local elections are even more important -- to reward elected municipal governments who have worked for the people with another five-year term and reject those who did not.This might also be a time to question the purpose of retaining a parallel power structure composed of the District Administrations and the Chief District Officers. Its job of issuing citizenship papers and passports allows this unelected office of centralised bureaucrats to wield extraordinary power over ordinary people.Federalism has also multiplied central-level politics by seven. Bagmati Province recently set a new record with 70 mini-ministries in Hetauda to allow the coalition to keep power. Much of the last five years were wasted in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/The-f-word-again,1426" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">endless debates about demarcation</a> of provincial boundaries and designating capitals. It took four years for Madhes Province to get its name, and Province 1 is still just a number.“We have made some headway in formulating laws and regulations, now we must bring it into practice, improving staffing for service delivery at local levels and promoting better coordination between and within levels by activating intergovernmental relations,” says Balananda Paudel.Just as democracy is only as effective as politicians, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/federalism-rule-of-law-and-the-judiciary/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">federalism</a> too will only function if it follows the true spirit of devolution of power and resources to the periphery. It needs political will at the centre to provide technical and financial support – something we have not seen in the last five years.Says Khimlal Devkota: “Citizens should be placed at the centre of all decision making. This can be done only by nurturing and strengthening federal practice.”

Sonia Awale

Power to the periphery

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

Ground reality of landlessness in Nepal

<figure><img width="1000" height="716" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/6372049d9c7e80680e0b286fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Image from a series by Chinese photographer Guligo Jia’s exhibition of ‘reunions’ of people with family members they lost in the war projected in the wall behind them. Here, Suman Adhikari is photographed with an old photograph of his father Muktinath Adhikari, himself and his brother. Photo: GULIGO JIA </figcaption></figure>My father Muktinath Adhikari was a science and math teacher at the Panini Sanskrit Secondary School in Duradanda in Lamjung district. I had just got into Grade 8 when my mother became ill.We had to take her to hospital in Kathmandu, carrying her in a doko. My father was so dedicated to his school that he did not come with us. It was not because he did not love her.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12522#.YeVp1S8RqLc" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D12522%23.YeVp1S8RqLc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0lOkM1Nl9In27odcK2tW9V">Both my brothers</a> were studying with me in Kathmandu at the time. One was in college and the other was preparing for his SLC exam. I had gone home to Lamjung for winter holidays with one of them.  <figure><img width="200" height="207" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/6372049f9c7e80680e0b2870jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>My mother had to go through two operations, and I pushed back my return to Kathmandu till 18 January 2002. My sister had also come home for the Maghe Sankranti festival. We were all home on 17 January when my grandfather and his brother came hurriedly to tell us that our father had been taken away by the Maoists.They said he was being taken for “interrogation”.He had been teaching his Grade 10 science class when a gun-wielding militia entered the room, tied a rope around his leg and led him off.We did not know what to do. On the one hand, we reasoned, our father had not done anything wrong, had not harmed anyone, so they would let him go. But we had also heard about Maoist executions and feared the worst.He had told his colleagues as was led away: “You see the situation. Whatever happens to me, manage the school well, do not damage the future of the students.” <figure><img width="1400" height="701" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204a19c7e80680e0b2871jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="2070" height="1576" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204a49c7e80680e0b2872jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>We had no news till evening. I followed my brother to look for our Dad. When we reached near the school, someone told us the news was not good, and there was no point looking for him. I had an inkling that something terrible had happened and that no one was telling us, and I returned home. My brother came back at 7PM, and told us that <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17894#.YeVpZS8RqLc" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D17894%23.YeVpZS8RqLc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2N-_RLEZnLbI0cI4QoiUS2">our father had been killed</a>. They had taken him from the school, past our house, tied his neck to a tree with his muffler, and killed him. My family tried to shield my other brother from the news because he was preparing for his school exam. They did not allow him to even listen to the radio, but he found out anyway from my uncle who had gone to Kathmandu to fetch him. When he got home, the whole family went to the site of the crime. My mother, sister and I could not bear to look. I tried to force myself to at least catch a glimpse, but I could not. The photograph of my father’s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16781#.YeVpYi8RqLc" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D16781%23.YeVpYi8RqLc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0aH2JvgxXsXBuNl3GQVhXh">lifeless body still tied to a tree</a> was on the cover of Himal magazine (pictured right) that week. The editor took a big risk by printing that photograph in the midst of war. Later, the picture was picked up by many other newspapers and spread through social media.Even after 20 years, I get the chills if I see that cover photograph. I cannot describe what my family went through. Our father was the sole source of support for the family. Despite his meagre earnings as a school teacher, he used to help others in the village who were in need. But when it was his family that needed support, no one stepped forward to help.In fact, they tormented us by their silence. No one spoke out. They were too afraid that they would also be killed by the Maoists. Before the murder, my aunt had told my father that many other teachers had fled the village because of threats from the Maoists and he should not put himself in danger. My father had replied: “I have never stolen one paisa from anyone, I have never wished anyone any harm, if I leave the school what will become of the future of my students?” <figure><img width="640" height="867" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204a79c7e80680e0b2873jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It later emerged that the Maoists had asked all teachers to donate 25% of their salary to the revolution. My father stood by his principle that donations should be voluntary, and besides he had to also take care of his family with his salary. He had told the Maoists he would consult the others and give his response, but they did not wait for his answer.We could not even remove the body, or observe funeral rites because of the fear of Maoists. My brothers conducted some rituals at home and returned to Kathmandu.I could not leave my mother alone during such a tragic period, and besides she was not well. I had to discontinue my education, but that was nothing compared to the trauma our family had to go through. We mustered the courage to lodge an FIR at the Lamjung District Police Office. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Commissions-of-convenience,1530" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Commissions-of-convenience,1530&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2a5uINM9W70AtKb3zZ1Rk0">There are two Commissions</a> to provide justice to the families of the victims of conflict like us, we even went to the National Human Rights Commission.But even after two decades, there has been no justice. The perpetrators were never caught. If this is the condition of such a high profile war crime, imagine what it is like for others who are not as well known. How will the conflict victims in remote parts of the country ever hope for truth and justice?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPK1y8MSMHc&amp;feature=emb_logoThe Commission on Enforced Disappearances and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission are more interested in letting war criminals off the hook than in providing justice. The commissioners are selected on the basis of party wheeling-dealing, and it looks like their sole intention is to protect the perpetrators. And we hear that they want a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw12XhhNJcMJn9L4BGusBJzm">blanket amnesty for all war crimes</a> by both sides in the conflict. International norms say that whether a perpetrator of a crime is to be pardoned or not is solely at the discretion of the victim. Still, they address political rallies and blatantly boast that they killed 5,000 people and those who were responsible for conflict-era crimes are walking openly in broad daylight. My father, who had no connection at all to the Maoist insurgency, was killed by them. We lost our father. Nothing will bring him back. If his murderers are not caught there is a danger <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/history-on-replay/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/history-on-replay/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1SnZqMPw1s7CMEwi7T7g2L">there will be another conflict</a> like this, and there will be other orphans like us. That is why we are still fighting for justice. I just hope no one in Nepal in future has to bear the kind of physical and mental torture that we did as a family. Twenty years later, my father appears to me in my dreams sometimes. I am so happy to see him alive. But then I wake up, and weep. I wish my dream would never end. Translated from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/127861?fbclid=IwAR32w5E-Totbc63ZAnwgR13Lre3VnPxI8_Vt-uf4e8RFqC6ZncnVTwb6KXQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/127861?fbclid%3DIwAR32w5E-Totbc63ZAnwgR13Lre3VnPxI8_Vt-uf4e8RFqC6ZncnVTwb6KXQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2e4nzefESDuc7Xr6JVIQUS">Nepali original</a> in <a href="http://himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://himalkhabar.com/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0eWk9SdO610RJSKCHi_R-5">himalkhabar.com</a>

Nepal’s unpunished war crimes

<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

Architecture can be a powerful agent of change, shaping not just spaces but the way people live, connect, and experience the world.&nbsp; For Nepal, which is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">gifted by nature</a> and rich in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/ambassador-fund-cultural-preservation-nepal,2092">cultural heritage</a>, &nbsp;reviving rural architecture with modern amenities could hold the key to more <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">sustainable tourism </a>that benefits local people more. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bayalpata-hospital-in-nepal-wins-global-design-award">Design and architecture</a> are amazing tools to create a unique experience for visitors,” says Spanish architect Tomeu Esteva of Esteva i Esteva Architecture Studio. “Difficult destinations have beautiful hotels with design and comfort.” Esteva was in Kathmandu with his colleagues at an event organised by the Spanish Honorary Consulate at Dwarika’s Hotel last week to showcase buildings which Nepali architects can adapt with local material and design inputs.&nbsp; Rural architecture holds a unique significance: it is more than a shelter and must reflect <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inking-an-idenity">local identity, culture</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-humla-from-heritage-loss">heritage</a>. An area’s natural and cultural harmony can be upset by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure?fbclid=IwAR1wK0MDFlFST_2EYb3f54LS4-fPt6rYfLG1DJ1JaQsU3w8-ezyXIxGOqzk">poorly planned development</a>, speakers at the event said, but the environment can be improved and revitalised by well-integrated structures.&nbsp; Another Spanish architect, Belen Moneo, has designed hotels at elevations of 3,700m in her home country Spain that supply natural spring water spas. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">Creativity in construction</a> must be encouraged. Rural architecture always shows possibilities of what we can do better,” Moneo explains, adding that designs must enhance <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-healing-power-of-nature">the beauty of nature</a> and give a natural feel at a time when steel, glass and cement dominate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake">urban design</a>.&nbsp; This is why the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/weaving-nature-into-craft">use of natural products</a> such as bamboo, local timber, straw and rammed earth are in demand from customers who want a fresh eco-friendly look encouraged in construction of rural architectural structures. The demand for boutique hotels has increased world over, with &nbsp;more and more tourists favouring aesthetics, experience and comfort over price. While creativity is an important part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/architecture-for-mountains">construction and architecture</a>, incentives to build and use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Building,370">rural construction materials</a> still remain minimal, and Moneo emphasises the significance of design and execution.&nbsp; Esteva helped design the Vana Retreat in Dehradun that kept the natural environment in focus, with the structure giving an elaborate aesthetic experience to visitors. Another example is Hotel Las Mercedes in the Dominican Republic which was designed and constructed by Moneo and the company she co-founded Moneo Brock, respecting and revaluing the traditional architecture of the area. Hotels providing such experience could attract tourists and revenue. The Spanish ambassador to Nepal Juan Antonio March Pujol said, “The role of architecture and architects in developing tourism is crucial, not only in urban areas but rural settings as well.”&nbsp; The concept of rural boutique hotels gained traction in Spain during the 1990s, particularly in regions like Majorca with economic and environmental sustainability as the main focus. In Nepal <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/guiding-nepal-s-tourism-industry">the tourism industry</a> directly employs about 1 million people, and makes up about 8% of the country’s GDP. In Nepal, the stone homes of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviving-himalayan-vulture-and-culture">Mustang and Manang</a>, bamboo and mud structures of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">the Tarai</a>, and the Kathmandu Valley’s terra cotta tile skylines, graceful temples, and tranquil bahal courtyards are all examples of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-traditional-seismic-resistant-designs">Nepal’s traditional architecture</a>.&nbsp; Nepali architect Sarosh Pradhan has been working for the past eight years on the Brakka Village project in Manang Valley north of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">the Annapurnas</a>. Other examples of this kind of rural architecture for high-end tourism are the Shinta Mani Hotel in Mustang and Khumbu Lodge below <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a>. Says Pradhan, “There are places in Nepal that radiate purity and embrace simplicity. Creating projects in such settings require deep reflection and thoughtful planning.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="2184" loading="lazy" alt="A new architecture for Nepal's tourism"> </figure>  Rural architecture is not easy, and sometimes more expensive. Inflation, energy efficiency, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">the climate crisis</a>, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">increased costs of living</a> pose obstacles to sustainable rural architecture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/forgotten-international-starchitects-in-nepal">Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal</a>, Anne Feenstra and Varun S Bapu Esteva says faith and trust between client and architect is necessary for any project to be successful. He adds that architects must practice being humble, the process of designing always involves learning and not imposing their ideas on clients. Nepal is uniquely positioned for the growth of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hiking-up-the-benefits-of-tourism">rural tourism</a> because of its stunning countryside as well as its internationally renowned traditions in holistic wellness. Creating infrastructure that is small, thoughtfully planned and that respects both tradition and contemporary hospitality standards is crucial. “Projects in Nepal can be made cost effective by using materials from houses that have been brought down,” says Esteva. “Pilot projects involving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people">local people </a>and simple designing also helps the process.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/vacant-homes-become-homestays-in-nepal">The growth of homestays in Nepal</a> is a step in the right direction, but they are still a bit too rustic for the international traveller who also wants comfort and is willing to pay extra for it. Upgrading the facilities in homestays and ensuring that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">architectural heritage</a> of the locality is preserved using locally sourced building material could allow owners to charge more. Says Sangita Shrestha of Dwarika’s Hotel, “Our effort is to build upon rural architecture by empowering local communities and using what is available locally. We can fine tune and encourage indigenous design and training.” The vision goes beyond just boosting the economy, it is about building a future where tourism helps villages grow in a healthy and lasting way. Instead of using up resources, it gives back to the land and the people. It supports local communities by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs"> creating jobs</a>, improving infrastructure, and protecting natural beauty. When done right, tourism can be a tool for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/progress-and-or-preservation">preserving culture and nature</a>, not harming them. Architects must therefore see their work as more than just designing buildings, they also need to care deeply about people and places, especially in rural areas that can benefit the most.&nbsp; With global interest in sustainable and off-the-beaten-path travel increasing, Nepal stands at the cusp of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism transformation</a> that values community-driven, eco-conscious hospitality. A mix of modern ideas and traditional knowledge could transform rural tourism in Nepal. Says Shrestha, “Young architects should spend time with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-unsung-heroes-of-conservation">local and indigenous communities</a>, listen to their stories, and learn from their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/life-and-livelihood-in-remote-nepal">ways of living</a>. These communities have deep knowledge about the land, materials, and climate. If this wisdom is used in new designs, it can help create tourism spaces that truly benefit everyone.” &nbsp;

A new architecture for Nepal's tourism

Extract from an addendum to Nepal's Two Wars, Chapter 2 in the updated edition of Essays on Nepal: Past and Present by Sam Cowan, a retired British Army general with a long association with the Gurkhas. The book was first published in 2018, and republished earlier this month by FinePrint exclusively on Amazon. The addendum details a one-to-one conversation the author had in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8884">Royal Palace </a>with the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">King Gyanendra</a> in November 2002 just after he had taken his initial steps on the road that ultimately led to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14681">the abolition of the monarchy</a> in Nepal in 2008. In the early evening of September 16, 2002, in my role as Colonel Commandant of the Brigade of Gurkhas, I had my second and last official audience with King Gyanendra to give him an update on the Brigade’s activities over the previous 12 months. I had some 6 or 7 such audiences with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra</a>.&nbsp; These were official affairs with the British ambassador of the day present, along with key <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12233">palace officials</a> and a representative from Nepal's Foreign Ministry. The two monarchs were very different in character and temperament, but both treated me with the utmost civility and made the audiences as relaxed and easy for me as possible.&nbsp; It is, however, worth recording that when the official business had been covered, King Birendra, with a twinkle in his eye, often ended by asking, “Now General, what’s the gossip in London?” The second audience with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8026">King Gyanendra </a>was my last official act in uniform. We came back to Kathmandu in the first week of November (after treks) to stay for a few nights with our Defence Attaché before heading back to the UK. Waiting for me was a message from the Palace saying that King Gyanendra would like to meet me informally: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6933">no uniform</a> and no ambassador.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2406" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra crowned page 1"> <figcaption>Nepali Times Special Edition of 6-14 June 2001 with enthronement of Gyanendra. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1857" loading="lazy" alt="Royal massacre"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 22-29 June 2001 covering the royal massacre after which Gyanendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  Although I had no idea what the purpose of the meeting might be, events in Kathmandu since I last saw the king put me on edge. On October 4, 2002, Gyanendra had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, allegedly for failing to hold <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-goes-on-in-nepal-s-elections">elections</a>. He had put in place a new prime minister and a cabinet personally selected by him. When I heard the news on my travels, the people I met were generally supportive of the king’s actions. There was a general view that something had to be done, the country was going nowhere, and the king deserved his chance, not least to solve<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal"> the Maoist </a>problem. Back in Kathmandu, views were not so sanguine. The chosen prime minister, Lokendra Bahadur Chand, was a relic from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mob-movement-and-mayhem">the Panchayat period</a> whose party had failed to win a single seat in the last elections held in 1999. Some of the chosen cabinet ministers had, to put it mildly, dubious reputations, and others had no record of proven competence in any field. There was a fear that the king’s real motive in dismissing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/deubas-denouement">Deuba</a> was to start to reverse the democratic gains made since 1990. I informed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-britain-mark-centenary-of-1923-treaty">the British ambassador</a> about the invitation. He was strongly against accepting it, which was probably the clinching reason for my decision to do the polite thing and accept it. On the evening of November 7, 2002, I presented myself at the royal palace, alone and in civilian attire.&nbsp; As in the past, the Military Secretary, Major General Vivek Shah, met and escorted me into the presence of the monarch. This time, however, he was politely asked to leave the room and shut the door behind him. King Gyanendra greeted me warmly and invited me to sit down.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal"> The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="993" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra coup"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 4-10 February 2005 after king Gyanendra's coup imposed media censorship. anendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  I had wondered, and to be truthful, had worried, not just about the purpose of the meeting, but about how the conversation might start and develop. I reduced my resolve to two points: be polite but speak candidly. The latter resolve was quickly put to the test with the king’s opening words: “Sam, [in previous meetings it had been ‘General’, you walk the highways and byways of this land more than most, tell me what the common man is thinking?” &nbsp;“Your Majesty, I have no idea what they are thinking, but they are waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes, Your Majesty, they are waiting to see whether what you did some weeks ago in appointing your own prime minister and cabinet ministers is going to make any difference to their lives or whether it is just going to be more Kathmandu hot air.” “Everything is going to be difficult and is going to take time, a lot of time.” “Your Majesty, time is the one thing you don’t have. You must act quickly and decisively to take advantage of the opportunity you have created. Everyone knows that you have appointed these new ministers. Why don’t you get them in here one by one and tell them that they have three months to deliver a programme in their area of responsibility that is going to make a difference to people’s lives? Most will fail to do so. Sack them! It will be a powerful signal of your strong intent to deliver real change.” I can express the opening of our conversation in this way because just about every word is still etched in my mind. The king’s response to my last quoted words was to challenge me to give an example of something that could be delivered quickly. I can give a verbatim record of what I said in response to this unexpected challenge: “Health posts, Your Majesty, there is no shortage of them throughout the country as building them has been one of the sources of local corruption, but very few have any medicine to issue at present or have skilled people to assess and meet medical needs. Your Majesty, children are dying for lack of a few pills. Given the right priority, over a period, say of six months, every health post could be fully stocked with medicine and manned with trained people. This is something I could help to lead for you as I know it would have strong international backing. At last, people would know that you mean business.” As I warmed to the theme, I could see no sign of the king having any enthusiasm for the idea, and I quickly disengaged as it dawned on me, as it had clearly dawned on the king, that the reason for the deficiencies in health posts was to prevent any Maoist combatant from gaining access to any <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/tech-away/nepal-s-health-tech-industry-is-here-to-stay">medical support</a>, and if this meant people suffering, so be it. The subject of the Maoist insurgency inevitably came up, and I took the opportunity to elaborate on what is written in the final four paragraphs of the article above. I advised King Gyanendra that, self-evidently, since there were three parties in the conflict—him, the Maoists, and the political parties—it was imperative that he form an alliance with one of them, preferably the political parties; otherwise, he would find himself isolated, as the other two parties would inevitably, at some stage, form their own alliance. However, it quickly became apparent that the king’s mind was on a totally different track. On the Maoists, he told me that he had channels open to them, but he was scathing about the political party leaders. He made it clear that they would be waiting for a very long time before he gave any power back to them, and that is a polite way of expressing the actual words he used, but “crawling through the door” is a phrase which has stuck in my mind.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1317" loading="lazy" alt="fall of monarchy"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 28 April-3 May 2005 with cover image by Ajay Joshi of jubilant protesters after street demonstrations sidelined king Gyanendra, paving the way for a ceasfire and restoration of democracy. </figcaption> </figure>  As the conversation developed, it became ever clearer that King Gyanendra had decided to go in alone, relying on the misleading assurances he was constantly receiving from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14954">the army</a>, and no doubt his close advisers, that the Maoists could and would be quickly defeated militarily, and taken out of the equation. This would obviate the need for him to do any deal with the political parties.&nbsp; Thus, the way would be clear for him to establish a version of his father’s Panchayat system, under a constitution that would be granted to the people by him, their sovereign, as his father and brother had done in 1962 and 1990. As in those constitutions, ultimate power would have remained in the sovereign’s hands. This proposed direction of travel was very clear from what the king said to me. In sum, King Gyanendra was motivated by a desire to emulate his immediate predecessors by granting his people a constitution that would restore his father’s Panchayat system in a modern form and give him a central role in decision-making. What was particularly dispiriting was that beyond this single objective he had no plan worthy of the name, nor demonstrably did he have the people with the skills to implement an appropriate plan even if one had existed. Crucially and depressingly, there was little or no indication from the king that he realised that such a course of action could put Nepal’s monarchy into serious jeopardy, as indeed proved to be the case. <h2>King Twice</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445" data-rendition-name="original" width="1302" height="632" loading="lazy" alt="“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”"> </figure>  <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah has been king twice</a>. In 1950 he was enthroned briefly as a child king (left, above) by the Rana Prime Minister Mohan Shumsher when his grandfather, King Tribhuvan, fled to exile in India. In 2001 he was crowned king again after the massacre in the royal palace in which his brother King Birendra and nine other members of his family were killed by Crown Prince Dipendra.&nbsp; During his second reign, Gyanendra gradually asserted power by sacking Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba in 2002, and then taking full control after the 1 February 2005 coup. He was sidelined after the ceasefire in April 2006, and became a commoner after the Constituent Assembly finally <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-abolishing,624">abolished the monarchy in 2008</a>. In the past year, Gyanendra has tried to exploit public dissatisfaction with the political parties to restore the monarchy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Essays on Nepal by Sam Cowen"> </figure>

“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”

He had just sat down for lunch after tending the garden at his house in Lagan Tole on 25 April 2015 when the ground began to shake violently. &nbsp; Gautam Nepal, 56 at the time, realised it was an earthquake. He panicked at the thought of his neighbours' multi-storied buildings toppling on top of his modest one-storey house. He rushed out as the high-rises swayed and groaned. “We were used to earthquakes, moderate ones are a regular occurrence in Kathmandu, but I had never felt fear like I felt on that day,” recalls Gautam. “My house proved strong, it did not collapse.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_82a74881218223df70e30eb1759cd3a7c9edbb7728acef83c3f8b397d6e6dfe9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250419040440_82a74881218223df70e30eb1759cd3a7c9edbb7728acef83c3f8b397d6e6dfe9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1737" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>LAGAN TOLE'S TOLL: Lagan Tole photographed by tour guide Neil S Rawlins during his travel to Kathmandu in February 1970.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040448_90914720a75b7d31a12bc27f0c0af9484a5e5efc7dd797dc6bcd190fc28ecdcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250419040448_90914720a75b7d31a12bc27f0c0af9484a5e5efc7dd797dc6bcd190fc28ecdcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan Tole photographed by Neils Gutschow in 1992.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_9a4dd35b070949949bfe275eff8216dd29f88f74a30b063dc614845226f68f03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250419040440_9a4dd35b070949949bfe275eff8216dd29f88f74a30b063dc614845226f68f03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan Tole in 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  Other residents of Lagan who also live in traditional low rise houses had the same fear. Tara Nepali, then 48, was doing the washing that Saturday.&nbsp; She recalls, “When my house began to shake, I could only think about the bigger buildings falling on top of me. I was sure my house would collapse, but to my surprise, it survived, and so did we.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_2b4b1ec427d9aec5980021b97b25ca3164d5f79337f113ba02b1d802f71b7cad.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250419040440_2b4b1ec427d9aec5980021b97b25ca3164d5f79337f113ba02b1d802f71b7cad" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Gautam Nepali in front of his one-storey Lagan home, where he had been having lunch just before the earthquake struck 10 years ago.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040436_6f8a7057bbd269214712076e13117b665165e03a0351db0e3666aee05e91f63c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250419040436_6f8a7057bbd269214712076e13117b665165e03a0351db0e3666aee05e91f63c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Tara Nepali in front of her house in Lagan. She was doing the washing during the earthquake in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  But Buddha Khadgi, 68, was not so lucky. His was one of the few houses in the neighbourhood to be reduced to rubble. His lifelong collection of photographic prints were buried, and so were the traditional Newari musical instruments passed down through generations of his family that he used to give music lessons.&nbsp; “I lost the things that connected me to my roots and my heritage. That was infinitely more heartbreaking than the fact that my house was gone,” says Khadgi, now living in a new cement structure.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040436_58f4a8ee4eb740536c69096a4d8c0cd2007fdbcc4ef56551ff460d2ef0ef6f2b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250419040436_58f4a8ee4eb740536c69096a4d8c0cd2007fdbcc4ef56551ff460d2ef0ef6f2b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2496" height="1671" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan's Maka Galli some decades ago. Photo: SHREE RAM NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_6b2bacaf0a1e93b441aff8093b343836d6de0b44d7b29f9b758209845f675bff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250419040440_6b2bacaf0a1e93b441aff8093b343836d6de0b44d7b29f9b758209845f675bff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan's Maka Galli in 2025. The neighbourhood's old Newari houses have been replaced by concrete structures, although the falcha has been rebuilt in traditional style.</figcaption> </figure>  Lagan Tole in Kathmandu's historic heart emerged relatively unscathed from the earthquake in large part because, like in nearby Asan, the buildings are densely packed and lean on each other. But in the years after the earthquake, urban pressure and fear of future quakes have made families tear down their traditional houses with sloping tile roofs and replace them with concrete structures.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_25983e79dc88388cb370b16f7f631e4c276cfc997ffa1f9ce3701e40c876b355.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250419040440_25983e79dc88388cb370b16f7f631e4c276cfc997ffa1f9ce3701e40c876b355" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Glimpses of present-day Lagan.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_9a6a88df8815352a452895c43840a898d4b6c080b79562383306c0cfe8bcd952.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250419040440_9a6a88df8815352a452895c43840a898d4b6c080b79562383306c0cfe8bcd952" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_a348b974bd3a5e76d0bf9b309f98813556d43dd6c361856c67e79c03d4283e69.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250419040440_a348b974bd3a5e76d0bf9b309f98813556d43dd6c361856c67e79c03d4283e69" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> </figure>  Lagan’s longtime residents, especially the elderly whose families have lived here for generations, say that the neighbourhood with its characterless new tall cement boxes is no longer familiar to them. “We used to say that our houses are not supposed to be taller than temples, the houses of our gods,” says Gautam. “Now, the houses here dwarf the temples and even the chariot of Seto Machindranath.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_88d18ce580abaf9e62fd807403f2e3c9a5bd8972d3b32bdacb97d8991c7fec35.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250419040440_88d18ce580abaf9e62fd807403f2e3c9a5bd8972d3b32bdacb97d8991c7fec35" data-rendition-name="original" width="1041" height="1441" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>The Seto Machindranath procession at Lagan on 10 April 1998, during which the chariot caught fire. Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_c403f91f9a48c14eaaeed2d38a2cb97714416765730b6d12f29487f9b0f47e83.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250419040440_c403f91f9a48c14eaaeed2d38a2cb97714416765730b6d12f29487f9b0f47e83" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>The Seto Machindranath procession at Lagan earlier this month.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The old baha courtyards, falcha resting places, and open spaces where Lagan’s residents used to grow vegetables and gather as a community are nearly all gone. And the taller the houses get, residents say they feel less anchored to the soil. Lagan has also lost its soul -- the community spirit is eroding as elderly neighbours rarely venture down to meet each other in the evenings. &nbsp; “This no longer feels like the tole I grew up in,” says a resident. “We are beginning to lose the relationships we had with each other as a community, and with it, the spirit of Lagan.”&nbsp;

Loss of soul and soil

“It's Kathmandu.” Just as the family was sitting down for one of its extended lunches, that jubilant cry was from François Driard’s grandfather announcing the next posting for his diplomat parents.&nbsp; Driard (pictured) was 18 in the summer of 1996,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/chasing-a-nomad"> a bit of a hippie</a> already, and his life was about to change forever with the magical word “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu</a>”. “I was awed with that information from my grandfather, nothing else mattered … In France <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tales-of-courage-and-suffering-cx95f89e">in the 1990s</a>, Kathmandu had a mythical aura,” Driard recalls. He came to Kathmandu for Christmas that year to visit his stepfather, the French Ambassador Michel Lummaux. It was to be the first of many visits during school holidays, before he decided to permanently settle down in Nepal. “Kathmandu, and Nepal, were very different then, it was magical, I liked the nature, the people, civilisation, temples, trees,” says Driard, who explored the country sitting on the top of buses. “Visitors talk about the crazy <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">urbanisation</a>, traffic jams today, and all that is true. But Kathmandu has not <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/loss-of-soul-and-soil">lost its soul</a>.” After his stepfather’s tenure in Nepal ended, Driard worked as a business reporter for international publications but decided he did not want to be anyone’s employee anymore. In 2007 he landed in Kathmandu with €20,000 in savings to invest.&nbsp; He knew a few crucial things about himself: he liked food and nature, which is very much tied up with his upbringing--full of lively conversations during lunch and dinner at the family table between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">abundant cheese, wine and cigars</a>. So he decided it would be cheese, and registered Himalayan French Cheese and went to the French Alps for a month to learn how to make Tomme de Savoie. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese">Cheese making is such an ancient craft </a>and so I thought I won’t need much money or studying which I hated and indeed, if you have a tamako bhado and fire you are set,” explains Driard. But Nepal’s temperature and humidity were not ideal, even at higher altitudes. The first customers for his cheese were the Hyatt Regency and Nina and Hager. But he needed to create a market for cheese in a country which only knew hard churpi in the north and soft paneer in the south. He started selling his cheeses at the Summit Hotel weekend market, expanding to his own 1905 Farmer’s Market which later moved to Le Sherpa in Maharajganj, where it is now, and also a market at Labim Mall in Pulchok. He had cow dairies in Nuwakot and Dhulikhel, and finally a yak cheese unit at 3,379m in Ramechhap. It was the yak blue cheese from here that went on to win a Gold Medal in France, putting Nepal’s French cheese on the world map. “People come and try our cheese at the market, they ask questions. There is a lot of education to be done about cheese,” adds Driard, who also has three cheese shops in the Valley. Driard now makes 25 types of cheese. The products are being noticed and every year he has French students coming to Nepal to learn the art of yak cheese making. “In France, one family or company makes one kind of cheese for generations. In that I’m very unique as a cheese artisan,” he says. “The students come in to learn but I tell them to also teach us something too, add another cheese to my collection.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/langtang-after-10-years">Langtang after 10 years</a>, Sonia Awale Being a foodie, Driard is now also dabbling in meat with his own charcuterie at Meatini with bacon, ham, sausage and pâtés. All of this is now served at his Emilio’s Pizza, a leafy hideaway in Lazimpat. His South Side in Moksh is probably the smallest wine bar in the world. “I call the process sublime,” says Driard of his ventures, which have grown organically. “You need the same temperature and humidity of 12°C and 80% for cheese, meat and wine.” Emilio’s speciality is the eight-cheese pizza (which has eight types of cheeses), and a pizza with bhutan topping (not the country but fried intestines and organs Nepali-style). He has opened a small branch at Courtyard in Pokhara.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="8 cheese pizza"> <figcaption>Eight-cheese pizza</figcaption> </figure>  With two artisanal cheese units, two farmers’ markets, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-meat-of-the-story">meat processing unit</a>, a bakery, and wine bar he now envisions a vineyard so he can add Nepali wine to his repertoire. Another future plan is to start up an agri-tourism business where customers can drink, eat and work in peace. In the past 20 years in Nepal, Driard has not always succeeded in his ventures but this hasn’t curbed his enthusiasm. He is learning as he goes, and like an old wine, Nepal is growing on him. Its slowness suits his French art de vivre with eating slowly outdoors, having conversation, importing less.&nbsp; “I have proven that with even a little money you can do a lot of things in Nepal,” adds Driard. “In the West, they easily invest half a million euros on a cheese factory, I invested 10 times less.”&nbsp;

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