This week 30 years ago, the Maoists launched their armed struggle from the rugged mountains of Rukum, attacking a police post in Athbiskot on 13 February 1996 (Editorial, page 2). Today, Rukum has been partitioned into East and West, and is an electoral battleground for the 5 March poll between the former Supreme Commander of the Maoist party Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda) and his erstwhile guerrilla commander Janardan Sharma (Prabhakar).&nbsp; The Maoist revolution was all about liberating the people of districts like Rukum from poverty, oppression and feudalism. The comrades promised to end inequality, social injustice, and exclusion in an insurgency they called ‘People’s War’.&nbsp; Today, 20 years after the conflict ended with the loss of 17,000 lives, not much has changed in both parts of Rukum. A motorable road does connect the district to the rest of the country, and it is the route many people have taken to migrate out.&nbsp; In one village in Rukum West, some young men paid as much as Rs8 million to human traffickers to take them to the United States. Some reached the US, but have been deported back to Nepal. Dahal has dropped the label ‘Maoist’ from his newly minted Nepali Communist Party and is contesting from Rukum East, while Sharma split from the party and is contesting from Rukum West as a Pragatisheel Loktantrik Party candidate. Newer faces from Rastriya Swatantra Party and Ujyalo Nepal Party are also in the race. Rukum was affected by the 2023 earthquake that killed 153 people and damaged 10,000 homes in Rukum West and Jajarkot. Many health facilities and schools collapsed, and one of them was Bheri Dovan Secondary School.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_4440ee7eeb935805db344c3bd91f7ed285fc9eec6910ee0d33bfc9410fa15acd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260221020232_4440ee7eeb935805db344c3bd91f7ed285fc9eec6910ee0d33bfc9410fa15acd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>This is my school by the river, seen from above. Chitrakala, 16</figcaption> </figure>  Reconstruction has been slow, but Finland and UNICEF have built a semi-permanent transitional learning centre with a gender segregated sanitation facility.&nbsp; STORIES IN PICTURES &nbsp; The project gave digital point-and-shoot cameras to 15 students between ages 11-16 who were interested in photography to take pictures of their daily lives. Eight girls and seven boys got a three-day basic training in photography. “The reason we chose this school was because it was completely destroyed and they have quite a few children from marginalised communities,” says Sabrina Guruacharya of UNICEF. “We wanted to invest in the creative skills of children and provide the space for them to tell their own stories in pictures.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_73b47852cd98061fc6b938273c7e40dbe5b8b8d0dbd9c528c2c1d295cd1b5ad1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260221020232_73b47852cd98061fc6b938273c7e40dbe5b8b8d0dbd9c528c2c1d295cd1b5ad1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>During the busy rice-harvesting season under Kartik’s gentle sun, farmers of Chinabagar, West Rukum. Lokendra, 14 </figcaption> </figure>  The theme of the photography workshop was to reflect on how the community was rebuilding after the earthquake. But instead of photos of destruction and ruined houses, the children took pictures of their family members, neighbours, friends, beloved pets and household livestock.&nbsp; They also took pictures of bridges, roads and telecom towers, neighbours harvesting crops, family members playing. In one frame, a girl is cooking over a traditional stove even as she scrolls through her smartphone. In another, six neighbourhood children are made to pose in a line -- a heartwarming portrayal of childhood innocence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_4a880ec63b39d5781e5fd240c7892fbb2a44287525b0e5f5af7b7fb44f72147f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260221020232_4a880ec63b39d5781e5fd240c7892fbb2a44287525b0e5f5af7b7fb44f72147f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>My sister was cooking while using her phone. Srishti, 13</figcaption> </figure>  “We are looking at new ways of storytelling that are inclusive and where young people are at the heart of the story. It’s their story, it’s them narrating,” says Guruacharya. Selected photographs were exhibited at Patan Darbar Square in January, as well as in the Rukum West school itself.&nbsp; The project is a direct beneficiary of an initiative in Finland where students raise money every time they walk to school. Finnish children then donate the money to their school, which in turn helps fund education in countries like Nepal.&nbsp; In a video about the program, participating students talk about learning the basics of photography such as different image sizes and camera angles, shooting at eye level and avoiding digital zoom for better results, understanding the perspective of light and motion, rules of composition and different lighting conditions, among others.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221020232_bd935d88f2da60a8f5d6e802934947f9871bf2f763dadc876254a8fb779951a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260221020232_bd935d88f2da60a8f5d6e802934947f9871bf2f763dadc876254a8fb779951a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1414" loading="lazy" alt="Rukum children"> <figcaption>I took this photo of my grandmother and my sister because I love my grandmother. Her age is also over 100 years and I wanted to take her picture. Birendra, 13 </figcaption> </figure>  It looks like some of the talented students are set to become content creators when they grow up, and UNICEF is now looking to replicate this in Madhes Province. The photographs taken by the children illustrate their everyday lives and concerns, which seems far away from the manifestos and stale electoral promises of candidates.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lzZkY9CvM4g?si=2QMEaRp9XTadRuu9" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

Sonia Awale

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Rukum in the eyes of its children

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

The war between people

The Maoist war was at its peak, the rebels were attacking one district headquarters after another, people were being disappeared, Nepalis were killing fellow Nepalis. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-leave-the-king">King Gyanendra </a>had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba for failing to hold elections and negotiate with the insurgents. By this point, the Maoists were also organised into the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), a centralised military force with battalion-level formations. The eastern division was led by Nanda Kishor Pun (later vice president), and the western division by Barshaman Pun (later finance minister).&nbsp; The night of terror which has since been dubbed<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/remembering-battle-of-Beni,3213"> the Battle of Beni </a>started at 10:30PM on Saturday, 20 March, and the fighting continued until 6AM the next day.&nbsp; Soldiers and police guarding the police station<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/20-years-ago-this-week/battle-of-beni"> fought until ammunition ran out</a>, the CDO building next door was reduced to rubble, and the army camp was the only government building standing, albeit barely. Thomas Bell, a Kathmandu-based correspondent for the Daily Telegraph, was one of the first foreign journalists on the scene, and had a dramatic eyewitness account in Nepali Times issue #189: ‘Lt Col Ragu Nepali’s office with its sandbagged windows is a wreck. He estimates there were at least 5,000 Maoists involved in the attack: frontline fighters, militia and porters.&nbsp; “They came in waves, like the sea, one after another, one after another,” said Lt Col Nepali, looking exhausted after two nights without sleep. “There were more women than men. And many, many child soldiers, below 14. I saw them while I was shooting back.” There were six Maoist bodies inside the army base and Nepali points them out: “They are all young children, this one is a girl.”…  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828100812_7f9ca76a1a5d6e9b2fbe65557636afa206d996ecd34625877e5484f08feb5be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250828100812_7f9ca76a1a5d6e9b2fbe65557636afa206d996ecd34625877e5484f08feb5be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Rewind 2004 NT"> </figure>  After the sun came up, they were walking here like they were coming home from a movie. Singing, joking, showing no fear.”’ Accompanying the piece was a photograph by Bell of Jamila Khatun washing blood from her shopfront in Beni while her three-year-old daughter Sajita watched. The picture would go on to become an iconic image of the war and was included in Nepali Times’ publisher Kunda Dixit’s The People’s War trilogy, a pictorial documentation of the armed conflict in Nepal. In total, 19 civilians, 17 police and 14 soldiers were killed in the Beni attack, while at least 90 Maoists were slain. There were prisoners on both sides including Matrika Yadav from the Maoists.&nbsp; The Battle of Beni was one of the biggest attacks on a district headquarters, and a turning point in the conflict. Following Beni, the Army bolstered the defence of its garrisons, and the Maoists shifted to ambushing security convoys along the highways. UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan who had been to Nepal in 2001 expressed serious concern and offered to help find a solution. In our editorial that week, we said: ‘Kofi Annan has echoed the sentiments of nearly all Nepalis: that there is no military solution to the conflict.’ The United Nations went on to set up the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) in 2007 to support the peace process following the end of the war. But the body was largely criticised for overstepping its mandate, disagreements over exit strategy, and perceived bias towards the Maoists, among others.&nbsp; Maoist supremo Pushpa Kamal Dahal in a leaked 2009 video even boasted of deceiving the UNMIN about the actual number of their fighters to 35,000 when the real figure was closer to 7,000-8,000. &nbsp;

2004

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

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.”

Power to the periphery

Nepal showed inconsistent performance at the T20 World Cup 2026 in Mumbai with flashes of brilliance, but ultimately snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rhinos-hit-the-ground-running">near-win against England</a>, a test cricket team by an associate country, in the opening game showed promise and suggested that Nepal’s cricket was on the cusp of glory. The Nepal Premier League and a flawless performance in the qualifiers had raised hopes that perhaps the Rhinos could progress out of the group stage. However, subsequent losses against newcomers Italy and the West Indies were harsh reality checks about the true state of the game: there is a lot of catching up to do in the present, and structural changes to put in place to win big in the future. Head Coach Stuart Law summed it all up quite harshly: “To go from that high to then go to an extreme low four days later, that’s not showing mental toughness.” He was worried about the distraction of social media and lack of focus among players: “When you’re in cricket, do your cricket. It’s a difficult one for me because I’m a social media dinosaur, I don’t understand it. You don’t have to keep showing your face if we’re winning games.” Finally a late-night win against Scotland on Tuesday redeemed some of Nepal’s pride. A strong opening partnership, yet another rugged Dipendra Singh Airee innings and Sompal Kami’s vindictive 3 for 25 helped Nepal beat Scotland in their last group game at the T20 World Cup.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_6ca369f6aefc8b653c2572467f050e96b029c96b71fed5fb4213898c7d469325.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260218010220_6ca369f6aefc8b653c2572467f050e96b029c96b71fed5fb4213898c7d469325" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  There was nothing riding on the game but honour, it means at least that Nepal do not crash out on zero. The game ebbed and flowed. Scotland started well and looked set to score 200 before collapsing in the end at 170. The Nepal batting effort also started out well, but in the middle overs after some wickets had fallen, it looked like the team was whimpering out again. Boundaries dried up, the run rate creeped up to almost 13, before Airee and Jha woke up and took charge and got to 171 with a few balls to spare. The dhaka topi crowd in the stands loved it. A big part of the reason Nepal’s performance was so much better against England than in the other games was the mentality going in. Against England, Nepal were clear underdogs and could play freely. Even a nasty defeat would have been forgiven. Against newcomers Italy, these roles were flipped. Fans and perhaps the players underestimated Italy, a nation much better known for its football culture. But it had put together a smart, experienced team made up of Italian cricketers with South African, Australian, English, Indian, Pakistani and Sri Lankan heritage. And Nepal may have won a series against West Indies last year, but against the full strength Caribbean squad they were easily beaten.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_dc27adaa2102b493f940a97f9572769e695c2c1c41c8558fc4c23657cc1c3261.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260218010220_dc27adaa2102b493f940a97f9572769e695c2c1c41c8558fc4c23657cc1c3261" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  Another key difference is that Nepal was batting second against England. Against Italy and the West Indies, having to set a target rather than chase it, there was miserable batting failure. The front of the order — openers Kushal Bhurtel and Aasif Sheikh, captain Rohit Poudel — did not pace themselves well. They started much too slow, not able to take advantage of the first six powerplay overs. Airee’s 58 and Sompal Kami’s 26 off 11 against the West Indies were the only innings of any note. The middle order of Bam, Jha, Aarif Sheikh was not much better. Nepal really struggled with the ball too in that game, taking the one wicket against the West Indies and none against Italy. Of course, it is a huge ask of your bowling attack to defend anything below 150 in the modern T20 game. There were questionable tactical choices. Early wickets are essential when defending a low score. But key wicket taker Sandeep Lamichhane was not brought on until the middle overs, when the opponents had made too many runs to feel any fear. So they took him on and he had a really poor tournament, going for a lot of runs.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_b0301b854ddf235e1bcb84e8ed58060a68c8f3f13d3bb5a7596e1f51184e0d03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260218010220_b0301b854ddf235e1bcb84e8ed58060a68c8f3f13d3bb5a7596e1f51184e0d03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  To captain Poudel’s credit, he acknowledged the bad showing against Italy: “It was not a 123 all-out wicket. We are professionals and not turning up for the game was disappointing.” Coach Law thinks that Nepal is going to get to the next step. If the team is ambitious, and hopes to compete at the elite level, then it cannot celebrate a loss against England. If it wants to win consistently, it has to shed the ‘Cardiac Kids’ nickname. It is better to win than to be fun to watch but lose. The T20 game is so brisk and so it is often won in the margins. Good catching and fielding can create momentum and save a team the 5, 10 runs that win the game. Nepal were uncharacteristically poor in the field against Italy and West Indies, often fumbling and leaking boundaries. Airee didn’t get any of his usual run-outs either. Nepal lost cheap wickets through run-outs and stumpings. All these unforced errors right through the match add up on the scoreboard.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_1630c283f277631dfbddd3d7f29b930b124bde97c8f6a411cc2e1d089e452f45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260218010220_1630c283f277631dfbddd3d7f29b930b124bde97c8f6a411cc2e1d089e452f45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  SKILL SET Mentality is important but sport performance ultimately comes down to skill. There looked to be a large gap, and perhaps one of the reasons is because the Nepal team is so full of all-rounders. Airee’s two-way performance is undeniable, but Bhurtel, Paudel and Karan KC do plenty of both too and they do not do it super well very often. If the team wants to get consistent, it must have consistent performers with the bat and ball. That calls for some of these players to focus completely on one skill over the other. You do not see openers bowling so much in the top teams as Bhurtel does. The main reason for this skill gap, and one of the hardest parts about being an associate nation, is how little cricket the members of the team play compared to the test nations. Said Stuart Law: “The longer format is where you learn how to play the game. The shorter formats are where you have your fun. We need some sort of multi-day games.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260218010220_652ef3ba6fceab394a94c18cabd322dca8ba4a1266557660064339de9169c91d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260218010220_652ef3ba6fceab394a94c18cabd322dca8ba4a1266557660064339de9169c91d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="T20 World Cup Nepal"></figure>  The contrast in experience showed during the Italy game. Most of the members of the Italy team were well into their thirties, had played a high volume of domestic cricket and were more self-assured. So, while the young Nepali team were more athletic, they seemed to lack the skill and experience to know what to do when things were going wrong. The Italians seemed to go about their game with a lot more self assurance. In the long run, this means setting up grassroot structures, getting kids into formal training when young, and setting up a longer format domestic league. In the short term, CAAN could organise frequent series with other associate nations, and individual athletes could go play long form club cricket abroad. Surely some team in the world has to have a spot for a player like Airee, for example. It has been Airee’s tournament. Scores of 44 v England, 58 v West Indies, and now a match-winning 50 against Scotland that gives the travelling Nepali support something to cheer for. The tournament could have been a lot more, but it is wholesome to end on a win.

Nepal goes in and out of T20

After his critically acclaimed 2023 book of essays सुन्यताको मुल्य on the state of women and children in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-karnali">Karnali</a>, paediatrician and writer Nawaraj KC has come out with a next one, Swasparsh. The new book is almost a sequel to the first one, with real-life stories drawn from his medical practice and social engagement. Both are powerful accounts of suffering, resilience, and the search for human dignity in Nepal’s most remote and underserved districts. The book opens with deeply disturbing yet real incidents of the suicide of a Grade 2 student. A &nbsp;frantic mother rushes in with a son who had already written a suicide note but was saved at the last moment. There is a desperate call from a young woman threatening to jump into the Karnali River.&nbsp; We meet children carrying immense trauma: a toddler who refuses to eat after losing her mother, and another child who stops speaking after experiencing sexual abuse within the family. The emotional climax comes when KC himself falls into depression after being violently attacked by a drug addict patient, leaving him with a serious head injury.&nbsp; But this is not a book of only sad stories of deprivation and poverty. It is how people who find themselves in the worst circumstances struggle to overcome what life has thrown their way, and triumph in the end. By just surviving against all odds, people emerge stronger, often with a renewed commitment to helping others. As a paediatrician working out of his native Surkhet in Karnali Province, KC's work brings him face-to-face with the human side of what a centralised government’s neglect and apathy can do to communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-dasain-in-kalikot">Nepal’s most far-flung region</a>. KC shows empathy not just to human beings in trouble, but also animals and underlines the importance of coexisting with the natural world. By helping others individuals ultimately help themselves. Although a paediatrician by profession, KC demonstrates a deep understanding of structural oppression, gender discrimination, caste hierarchy, class inequality, and regional marginalisation within the Nepali state.&nbsp; He also captures moments of tenderness, such as young couples supporting one another through hardship. How poverty can drive families to take heartbreaking decisions — like a patient forced to discontinue life-saving medicine in order to qualify for disability allowances needed to repay debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260217030252_ffd67815063cffe51a0310f10405a554f6094ba05564993f34086fe4b31543f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260217030252_ffd67815063cffe51a0310f10405a554f6094ba05564993f34086fe4b31543f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1646" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Swasparsha"> </figure>  A former teacher is forced to beg despite receiving treatment, exposing the failure of conventional development models that ignore sustainable livelihoods.&nbsp; Then there are inspirational stories like the one of Mandire, who ran away at age 12 to work as a labourer in India, suffered severe burns while unloading coal, and lost a hand. Despite this, his infectious smile and fortitude transformed him into a local symbol of hope both in India and Nepal.&nbsp; Even in old age, he is always smiling and helping others less fortunate.&nbsp; Through Mandire’s story, KC explores the science of the healing power of a smile, the positive psychology of a ‘mental gymnasium’ in which optimism is cultivated through conscious practice.&nbsp; For example, a young girl from the historically marginalised Badi community which faces deep social exclusion refuses to accept her circumstances, and grows into an advocate for other disadvantaged children. A devoted foster mother dedicates her life to raising orphans, empowering them despite her own hardships. One of the book’s strengths lies in its accessibility. In Nepali language, KC blends science, philosophy, and lived experience into everyday language that resonates with villagers and ordinary readers. He comes across not only as a doctor and healer, but also as a teacher, nature lover, and social activist. He tries to introduce greenery to a remote school, and how this transformed children’s learning experience. He reflects that his patients are his greatest teachers helping to expand knowledge beyond medicine and technology into the realms of humanity and ethics. I read Swasparsh after witnessing the recent GenZ movement. The book’s recurring calls to youth, appearing at the end of several chapters, has special relevance today. KC reminds young readers that hardship is part of everyday life, but within struggle lies the potential for healing and growth.&nbsp; He encourages self-reflection, self-healing, and cultivating a positive mindset. Above all, he asserts that humanity’s greatest gift is its own human capacity henceforth solutions to all problems lie within oneselves rather than outside forces. The GenZ movement represents an urban youth revolt against traditional political parties and state institutions that have failed to deliver opportunities and accountability. Rising unemployment, widespread corruption, and frustration with stagnant governance have fuelled demands for new political alternatives.&nbsp; With the 5 March election less than three weeks away, many young people hope that new forces will be capable of bringing systemic change. Yet whether these forces can truly meet their aspirations remains uncertain. Established political actors are reluctant to relinquish power, while emerging groups often lack organisational depth and historical experience. In many ways, these new political actors resemble the people of Karnali: resource-poor, And in the periphery of power, yet rich in commitment and determination. Drawing from Buddhist teachings that recognise suffering, understanding its causes, and seeking pathways to overcome it, KC indirectly inspires today’s youth. Every problem contains the seeds of its own solution, provided we learn to know ourselves, care for ourselves, and care for others. Ultimately, the title Swasparsh means self-healing, self-reflection, and self-confidence. At a time of political uncertainty and generational change, this book speaks directly to Nepal’s younger and the emerging alternative forces — reminding them that transformation begins from within.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026021704020_1d2a855730bc14acbea596cce7b3a00b20f85c79c3a7d8ca46274a15eb642f59.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026021704020_1d2a855730bc14acbea596cce7b3a00b20f85c79c3a7d8ca46274a15eb642f59" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Swasparsha"> </figure>  Hisila Yami served as CA member, Minister of Physical Planning &amp; Works, Minister of Tourism &amp; Minister of Land Reform. At present, she is a member of Central Political Council in Pragatishil Loktantrik Party and is a lecturer in IOE Pulchok.

Essays on self-realisation and self-healing

The recent Nepali Times Substack post titled ‘Unresident Nepalis’ made me realise I also belong to the category of Nepalis who are technically Non-resident Nepali (NRN), but want to ‘permanently reside inside Nepal’.&nbsp;
Although this was meant as a joke, it is ironic that many of those who go abroad long to come back home, and those who have not emigrated cannot think of a good enough reason to stay back in Nepal.&nbsp;
As soon as the NRN Citizenship was officially introduced in late 2023, I had tried to apply for one but was shut down before even submitting my documents as the district administration office firmly told my then lawyer that I needed to prove “तिन पुस्ता” proof of three generations of Nepalis from my father’s side.&nbsp;
My late father was from Japan and relinquished his citizenship to become a Naturalised Nepali citizen in 2006. Three years ago, I dismissed the rejection with the thought that I will try again later when government officials would gain more experience with such applications.&nbsp;
Now, with an ailing mother and an energetic toddler, I felt the need to act soon and reached out to a law firm that specialises in NRN citizenship applications. To my surprise, they were positive after reviewing my documents, although they did warn me that we may need to overcome some obstacles.&nbsp;
In 2023, I had applied in the district office where my father had received his naturalised citizenship, but now the suggestion was to try from the district where my mother had received her Nepali ancestral origin “बंसागज” citizenship.&nbsp;
The lawyers pointed to the NRN citizenship mandate which clearly states that it can be acquired via a Nepali origin father, mother, grandfather or grandmother. The firm helped arrange the necessary documents required and the first step was to get a “सिफारिस” &nbsp;recommendation letter from my mother’s ward office.&nbsp;
This was the first hurdle as the ward office was unsure if they could issue such a letter, so they checked in with their head office, and luckily we received the go ahead. After persistent follow up from the law associates, they were able to provide us with a recommendation letter and we filled out the application forms.&nbsp;
The law firm wisely suggested that I take the paperwork myself to my mother’s district office while they stayed in the background in case I needed help explaining my situation.&nbsp;
With a big smile and cheerful tone, I dutifully followed the process and to my surprise, I found most of the officials ready to help without creating unnecessary hurdles. The application has to be signed off by the Chief District Officer (CDO) or Assistant CDO and just when I thought wow, I am going to breeze through this, one officer noticed that my father’s naturalised citizenship was from a different district and told me that I should apply for my NRN from there.&nbsp;
I explained that my father has already passed away and as he was not originally a Nepali, therefore it is not possible for me to get my NRN from his documents, as the requirement is ancestral “बंसागज” citizenship. The officer then went to check with their seniors and later told me that I would need police verification as an extra precaution.&nbsp;
Off I went to the police headquarters where they issued a sealed letter to be given to the police station that was in the same vicinity as my mother’s ward office. At the station I was told to get four people who are not my relatives to testify our documents are true.&nbsp;
This process happened to be more stressful than dealing with the government offices. At first, it turned out that most of my mother’s old neighbours had already passed away or had citizenship papers from another area. Others confirmed their availability, but later had conflicting schedules. Luckily, one very helpful old neighbour was able to arrange for enough people to verify the documents.&nbsp;
Encouraged that the end of the tunnel was in sight, I went back to the district office with all the requested documents, and after some initial pushback, I was finally referred to meet the official who signs off the documents before it goes to the CDO.&nbsp;
As luck would have it, the officials were in a meeting that lasted more than two hours, and I had to give my mother her insulin shot and noodles from the cafeteria in the waiting area.&nbsp;
When we were finally able to meet the officer, he didn’t even look at my papers properly and started questioning my lawyers whether they had even read the law, how could I apply for Nepali citizenship when I already had a Japanese passport, etc. He somehow assumed that I was looking to get a normal Nepali citizenship from my mother’s side, and we informed him that I was only looking to get an NRN citizenship, after which his tone became more apologetic and said that he would need to look into the law more closely.&nbsp;
It had already been three full days of working through each step of the process, and I had no problem waiting another day for the conclusion.&nbsp;
Perhaps because this NRN citizenship is a fairly new law and perhaps a lot of NRNs apply from the Nepal’s embassies in their country of domicile, throughout my experience, officials kept on telling me that a case such as mine has not been processed before.&nbsp;
My case being that I have never had a Nepali citizenship, my father having a naturalised Nepali citizenship and my mother being the only 100% Nepali in the family. I kept on saying that just because it has never been done before does not mean that it cannot be done, and sure enough, the next day the officer signed off on my documents, even kindly saying that they should have highly respected my application upon learning about my late father and his contributions to Nepal.&nbsp;
Although the intricacies of the NRN citizenship law have not been fully hacked out such as the transfer of land ownership, it is definitely a positive step in securing the rights and aspirations of fellow NRNs as many would agree that no matter where we go, “यो मन त मेरो नेपाली हो!”&nbsp;
Sonia Miyahara, Managing Director of Hotel Everest View, Trans Himalayan Tours &amp; Trekking Pvt Ltd &amp; Himalaya Kanko Kaihatsu Co. Ltd.

How I got my NRN Citizenship in Nepal

To understand the new wave of migration from the remote mountains of western Nepal, one just needs to look at the nutrition status of its children. Hara BK’s 2-year-old son has an abnormally distended belly, his arms are thin — the result of insufficient food from fallow farms in this rugged and arid region of Nepal.&nbsp; “Nothing grows here, I’m tired of walking to the health post,” the mother of two tells us, showing the nutrition packet the baby was given. “He gets better as long as we feed him the packet, then he is hungry again.”&nbsp; Child marriage is still common in Bajura, and Hara was 15 herself when her parents married her off. By 16 she had her first baby. She is unable to produce enough milk for her baby, but already pregnant with a third child. Nearly 90% of women in Bajura are malnourished. Says ward chair Ajay Kumar BK: “Children born to malnourished mothers also become malnourished.” Geeta BK is 30. She has six girls aged 15, 12, 8, 6, 5 and 3, and a son who is 1. She tells us, “I had a baby every other year. There is no milk for this one.” In remote districts like Bajura, child marriage, multiple births, unspaced birth all lead to malnutrition in mothers who then cannot provide enough nutrition for their babies. “It is a vicious cycle of malnutrition and poverty,” says nutritionist Uma Koirala.&nbsp; Hara and Gita’s husbands are seasonal migrant workers who go to Dehradun in India six months a year to work as labourers. During that time, the wives are doubly burdened. Hazari BK, 23, of Muktikot village is severely undernourished, but has to raise a seven-year-old son and two-year-old daughter. She gave birth to her first child at 17, and two of her babies died young.&nbsp; “This small girl is getting better but I could not breastfeed my son,” says Hazari, who is pregnant again.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260212090240_bbfd747ded536931be4910d73f1234c245aec30401da3ffe05dac2ef690bf88e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260212090240_bbfd747ded536931be4910d73f1234c245aec30401da3ffe05dac2ef690bf88e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1001" loading="lazy" alt="Epicentre of hunger NT"> <figcaption>The four daughters of Geeta BK.</figcaption> </figure>  NUTRITION PROGRAMS The government has been implementing a ‘multi-sectoral nutrition plan’ in six districts including Bajura since 2013, involving education, agriculture, drinking water and sanitation, and local development ministries. The current phase of the program covering all local governments aims to reduce stunting to 15% by 2030.&nbsp; A ‘Nutrition Assessment and Gap Analysis’ conducted in 2009 recommended that agriculture, education, local development and health should all play a role in addressing malnutrition. Then in 2011, Nepal joined the global campaign ‘Scaling Up Nutrition’ (SUN) campaign, and a year later the government approved the multi-sectoral nutrition program which is still running with support from the European Union, UNICEF, the World Bank, the World Food Program, Canadian Aid, JICA, and the World Health Organization. Similarly, USAID’s Suhara program which started 11 years ago took nutrition programs to the remotest corners of the country. And while the program has been scaled back after USAID stopped, Hara and Gita are a stark reminder of how past programs have failed. Public health expert Mahesh Maskey sees a deeper malaise here. This is not a health issue, but linked to state neglect of education, agriculture, gender and food security. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260212100240_919551288adb9669472702c3937fac94e4268cbde1a39173853ee901f9b18947.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260212100240_919551288adb9669472702c3937fac94e4268cbde1a39173853ee901f9b18947" data-rendition-name="original" width="1572" height="950" loading="lazy" alt="Bajura map"> </figure>  HUNGER FIGURES According to the Nepal Demographic and Health Survey 2022, malnutrition has dramatically declined nationally, but not in western Nepal. A quarter of under-5 children in Nepal are stunted, but here in Muktikot village the proportion is a shocking 55%. The figure for Bajura district is almost double the national average with 49% of children too short for their age due to a lack of food. The survey also showed that 19% of under-5s are underweight. Here in Muktikot that percent is 51.2%. A third of the children in Bajura weigh below normal.&nbsp; Bajura does have nutrition programs, but there is lack of coordination between various government departments with unnecessary duplication of haphazard efforts. “There is no accounting of who is doing what, how much food is being distributed,” admits Bajura public health officer Kumar Neupane. “This in turn is increasing dependency and reducing local food production.” Health posts give out ready-to-use therapeutic food to severely malnourished children as a nutrition boost, but this is not a long-term solution. “These items are only supplementary, not substitutes for home-cooked meals,” says Lila Bikram Thapa at the Department of Health Services in Kathmandu. The World Bank’s recent Nepal Development Update 2025 states that in Madhes Province, delayed monsoon rains hurt paddy yields.&nbsp; Economist Keshav Acharya says that although funds are allocated for nutrition in the budget, its distribution system and identification of needs are not scientific: “If the target group is not reached and the program is not continuous, such programs are meaningless.”&nbsp; Malnourished children do not develop adequately mentally and physically, preventing them from rising above the poverty line. Nutritionist Aruna Upreti says that the government multi-sectoral nutrition program has failed due to misplaced priorities.&nbsp; “Even in remote villages, noodles and biscuits are easily available but nutritious food isn't,” she says. “The use and promotion of local nutritious crops should supersede dependence on external food aid.”&nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism - Nepal