It was at 2:45AM in the morning, I was in a deep sleep when I got a call from the hospital. The nurse on duty said there was a woman in labour who had had two previous C-sections. Half-asleep, I realised our resident gynaecologist was away on training and immediately rushed to the ward. The patient was 39-year-old Nim Diki Sherpa, wincing in pain and fully dilated. She had not had a single <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time">ante-natal checkup</a>, and said she did not even know she was pregnant because she had taken a depo<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-the-curse-of-the-contraceptive,493"> contraceptive injection</a>. Her husband was away and she was brought to Bhojpur District Hospital by neighbours who also had no idea she was pregnant.&nbsp; As resident medical officer with only an advanced skilled assistant birth attendant (ASBA), I was clueless about what to do next. Because of her two previous C-sections, this could be a complicated case needing referral. But our referral centre was too far away for this <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-air-ambulance-saves-mothers">emergency</a>. With our medical superintendent, we gathered at the operation theatre <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/book-review-Admissions-Henry-Marsh-Neurosurgeon,4055">for surgery</a> and took the patient’s consent. Pre-anaesthetic check-up and preloading were done and the patient wheeled in.&nbsp; Blood grouping and crossmatch was done, and two hospital staff donated their own blood since the blood bank did not have stock. Because the patient was writhing in pain, the spinal anesthesia was administered with some difficulty.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250522090524_8a340dc6217599bf9cce8eb2315731089307e3b06a31baef5b622d5ad40ac71e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250522090524_8a340dc6217599bf9cce8eb2315731089307e3b06a31baef5b622d5ad40ac71e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="643" loading="lazy" alt="Saving one mother at a time NT"> </figure>  I was the main surgeon with another <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-nepali-mothers-on-mother-s-day">birth attendant</a>, an experienced nurse and anaesthesia assistant. An incision was made near the C-section scars, but as we entered the abdominal cavity there was a sudden gush of blood. We could not figure out where it was coming from.&nbsp; After separating the muscle, I could see that it was as we had feared: a uterine rupture. We made a T-shaped incision to deliver the baby which was drowning in blood. The anaesthesia assistant, medical superintendent and nurse started resuscitating the baby, and I waited for it to cry while trying to deal with the mother’s bleeding. I felt I had lost one life, and could not save the other. We took the uterus out from the incision, traced the source of the bleeding, and started clamping with all the instruments we had.&nbsp; I had seen one case of peripartum hysterectomy during my training, and knew that a case like this was touch and go. Remembering tips from the training, I asked for long artery forceps. It was not in the set, but the nurse tracked one down in the store, disinfected it with betadine and handed it to me.&nbsp; There was no time to autoclave it, and I remembered my trainer telling me that we should all adapt to the situation at hand (अवस्था अनुसारको ब्यबस्था). His advice rang loudly in my ear. There was little hope, but I tried to keep calm and started suturing layers of incisions. All the while the anaesthesia assistant managed to keep everything under control. There was massive bleeding and we transfused two-pints of whole blood. I remembered what the mother had said before she was anaesthetised: “Doctor, do everything to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time-c2plk4ko?fbclid=IwAR3pJwcfeEosJdmBoF623hnjWjHoqIddTwWGMkPoOFNWqMujm1irA1auFr4">save my life</a>.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250522090524_e63c9f48bc630d4dea355d15554f2228a1ae9879c816fbcad42396e7f7f11d40.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250522090524_e63c9f48bc630d4dea355d15554f2228a1ae9879c816fbcad42396e7f7f11d40" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Saving one mother at a time NT"> </figure>  After three continuous hours at surgery, dawn was breaking as the mother’s bleeding started to come under control and her blood pressure started rising. But we still had a long way to go. The medical superintendent had arranged for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-air-ambulance-saves-mothers">helicopter medevac </a>and she was airlifted out soon after.&nbsp; With me in the surgery team that night were fellow doctors Praveen Mandal and Shivaji Rijal, anaesthesia assistant Durga Nanda Chaudhary and nurses Sumitra Shiwa and Basanta Moktan. Advanced skilled birth attendant (ASBA) is a 70-day training given to MBBS doctors by the National Health Training Center and Nick Simons Institute (NSI) with clinical exposure in obstetrics after which they are expected to manage <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/saving-nepali-mothers-and-babies-district-by-district">complicated deliveries in rural government hospitals</a> with cesarean section independently. Nepal has dramatically reduced<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-and-then"> maternal mortality ratio</a> from 536 per 100,000 live births thirty years ago to 145 now – mainly because of antenatal checkups, institutional deliveries and an increased number of advanced skilled birth attendants.&nbsp; Over the past three decades, the lives of countless <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-more-mothers-and-babies">Nepali mothers </a>have been saved. Like Nim Diki Sherpa, mothers have been saved one at a time by dedicated doctors and nurses working with limited resources and equipment. Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-lagging-in-safe-motherhood"> Nepal lagging in safe motherhood</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar There were many lessons we learnt that day. I learned what it is to take a leadership role in a life-or-death situation. Back at Paropakar Maternity Hospital training in Kathmandu a senior consultant gynecologist once told me to scrub when a patient is bleeding profusely. He knew that one day I would be alone trying to save a life. “There is no running away,” he had said. “There is no excuse, you either try or let a patient die.” Once trained, circumstances will not let you choose. You cannot say ‘I wasn’t trained for this’, you have to adapt to the situation at hand with whatever you have.

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Saving one mother at a time

Nepal made significant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/covid-undermines-nepals-mother-child-gains">gains in maternal and neonatal healthcare</a> in the last 25 years, but the gains have stalled and the country may not meet global targets. The national maternal mortality rate (MMR) dropped from 536 per 100,000 live births in 1996 to 151 by 2021. This progress was driven by improvements in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/altruistic-healthcare-models-in-nepal">healthcare infrastructure</a>, the work of female health volunteers, improvements in perinatal care and a significant increase in hospital deliveries.&nbsp; The National Safe Motherhood Program, Ama Surakshya initiative and the Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHV) have contributed to progress in reducing MMR and increasing institutional deliveries. But the World Health Organisation (WHO) 2025 report puts Nepal’s MMR at 142 per 100,000 live births, which means it has flatlined for the past four years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250522170556_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250522170556_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027" data-rendition-name="original" width="790" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Maternal health map NT"> </figure>  The national MMR average hides regional disparities, with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/remove-barriers-to-life-saving-drug-to-prevent-maternal-deaths">maternal deaths </a>remaining high in Lumbini (207) and Karnali (172). Despite Lumbini having a relatively higher <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/age-no-bar-to-go-to-school">female literacy</a>, the province has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/infant-deaths-up-during-nepal-lockdown">low institutional deliveries</a> and poor hospital care. Similarly, there are wide disparities among<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15775"> ethnic communities </a>and socio-economic groups. &nbsp; “Societal norms, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/educating-girls-to-break-cycle-of-poverty?fbclid=IwAR0XzGho9fTElYVPdnWnajc6AWidkzs-ekeFSnMi8EXh0FVsyGOl8Umwwvo">education for girls</a>, and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/The-right%20-to-have-rights,2656">gender rights </a>play a critical role in shaping maternal and women's health outcomes,” explains public health expert Aruna Uprety. “Comprehensive awareness about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/support-for-reproductive-health-of-nepali-women">sexual and reproductive health </a>is essential, especially in rural areas where there is still a significant knowledge gap.” Indeed, there is a direct inverse correlation between female literacy and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/can-nepal-end-child-marriage-by-2030-gmx92qf3">child marriage </a>with MMR across Nepal. The cause of maternal deaths, perinatal care including post-partum haemorrhage need particular focus.&nbsp; Under Nepal’s national Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) the target is to reduce MMR to 116 by 2030, against a global target of 70 per 100,000 live births.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250522170556_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250522170556_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856" data-rendition-name="original" width="377" height="367" loading="lazy" alt="Maternal health graph NT"> </figure>  The National Planning Commission has also set its own target to improve maternal health outcomes, but they are inconsistent— while one section of its 16th National Plan sets a MMR goal of 100 by 2029, another section of the same document presents a more ambitious goal of 85. Such inconsistency even in target-setting creates confusion and undermines planning efforts, in monitoring, and fulfilment of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16444">maternal health goals</a> — especially when existing health statistics are unreliable to begin with. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-slaughter-of-our-daughters">The slaughter of our daughters</a>, Shristi Karki “Conflicting targets and the lack of clarity at the highest levels of national planning create uncertainty for maternal health professionals, making it difficult to align their efforts and strategies,” says Laxmi Tamang, South East Asia Board Member of the International Confederation of Midwives (ICM).&nbsp; Meanwhile, issues with budget deployment, and a lack of coordination between local and international agencies have also affected maternal and child health outcomes, which has been further exacerbated by the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">USAID funding freeze</a>. The aid agency had allocated $72 million to reduce MMR and enhance access to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/is-free-health-care-possible-in-nepal">healthcare in Nepal</a> for this year.&nbsp; Laws targeted towards sexual and reproductive health have played a significant role in improving maternal health outcomes in Nepal. Legalisation in 2002 brought down the number of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/globe-rallies-to-aid-nepals-women,3841">unsafe abortions</a>. Better access to reproductive health also reduced conditions including uterine prolapse.&nbsp; Currently, over half of the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/saving-nepali-mothers-and-babies-district-by-district"> maternal deaths in Nepal</a> occur at health facilities, 26% at home and 17% during patient transport or referrals.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250522170556_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250522170556_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="359" height="329" loading="lazy" alt="Maternal health pie chart NT"> </figure>  “Legal remedies have definitely helped to reduce maternal mortality rates, but it is important that both men and women be informed about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/caring-for-nepals-women?%2F">women’s health</a>,” says Uprety. However, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-has-progress-in-saving-women-s-lives-stalled">Nepal’s maternal health sector</a> is unlikely to see meaningful progress as long as critical <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nursing-grievances-against-the-state">shortages of skilled health providers</a> persist and the retention of trained professionals remains weak. Strengthening legislation, scaling training, and improving rural infrastructure are critical to aligning Nepal with global standards and achieving SDG maternal health targets by 2030. Says Tamang: “Maternal health must be recognised as a fundamental gender issue. Implementing existing policies, as well as forming a gender-responsive budget and increasing targeted investments in this sector are essential to ensuring equitable and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-far-from-hitting-contraceptive-target">effective healthcare for women</a>.” <h2>Midwives save lives</h2> Along with doctors and nurses, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/midwives-to-the-rescue-in-nepal">midwives are crucial to Nepal’s maternal health </a>workforce, and play an important role in improving Nepal’s maternal health and childcare outcomes. However, those working in midwifery are hindered by the lack of professional recognition and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-less-and-less-able-to-feed-itself">systemic challenges in Nepal</a>, leading to discontent among doctors and nurses in the maternal, reproductive and child care sectors, who fear they will be replaced by midwives.&nbsp; There is a lack of clarity even within the medical community about the job description for doctors and nurses, versus that of midwives. While nurses are taught about multiple human body systems, midwives are specifically trained in sexual and reproductive health to assist in both home and institutional deliveries.&nbsp; Obstetric nursing involves working alongside doctors to administer perinatal care. In contrast, midwives are exclusively trained to only handle pregnancies, deliveries, and postnatal care that are without complications. &nbsp; The introduction of midwifery education in Nepal in 2016 marked a significant step toward improving maternal and newborn health outcomes. But there are currently only 91 professionally trained midwives across the country, which is significantly short of Nepal’s target of having 6,410 midwives by 2030.&nbsp; Says Kiran Bajracharya, founder and former president of the Midwifery Society of Nepal (MIDSON), “A trained midwife is capable of reducing two-thirds of prevalent maternal deaths in Nepal.” Even so, there have been some notable gains: the establishment of the Midwife-Led Antenatal Clinic (MLAC) at Paropakar Maternity and Women’s Hospital in Kathmandu in 2023 placed professional midwives at the centre of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">maternal health services</a> for the first time in an institutional setting, marking a shift in antenatal care in Nepal. The MLAC has provided personalised care, counselling, and emotional support to over 4,000 pregnant women so far. And unlike the obstetrician model of care, deliveries involving midwives at the MLAC allow husbands and partners to be present during childbirth. “It is imperative that the government prioritise midwifery as a key step toward strengthening the maternal health system,” says Bajracharya. “There is an urgent need to create dedicated positions and deploy trained personnel to address existing workforce gaps.”

Nepal lagging in safe motherhood

Philanthropy will never replace<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/uk-aid-for-nepal-s-covid-affected-mp4ab6lw"> public aid</a>, but it can be a powerhouse if we use it right. With global development funding under strain, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/e75-million-eu-aid-to-nepal-for-covid-19-ckmyfbkq">European aid</a> budgets being redirected toward defence and rearmament, and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">United States rethinking foreign assistance</a> altogether, the aid community has been left scrambling.
The reactions so far have been of two kinds: calls for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/philanthropy-in-the-time-of-pandemic">philanthropy</a> to fill the gap, and moralising statements shaming governments for stepping back. Unfortunately, the first is unrealistic, and the second is ineffective.&nbsp;
Private donors cannot solve systemic <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/our-uncommon-future">global challenges</a> alone, and telling politicians that they are morally bankrupt generally does not bring them around to your side. Instead, we need to meet policymakers where they are, sharpen our arguments, and focus on what actually works. The hard truth is that most <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/foreign-aid-policy-to-balance-infrastructure-investment-with-social-sector-investment">government aid</a> is not even designed for effectiveness, because it prioritises processes over results. Nor has philanthropy been immune to this impulse.
In early years at the Eleanor Crook Foundation, we funded holistic, multisectoral programs that tried to tackle all causes of malnutrition simultaneously. But the results were underwhelming. The approach looked good on paper, but produced no measurable improvements in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-epidemic-of-hunger">malnutrition</a>. So, we learned from that failure and changed course. Now, we direct our funding where the evidence is strongest and the results most immediate.&nbsp;
At the recent Nutrition for Growth (N4G) Summit in Paris, we announced a $50 million commitment, alongside $200 million from other donors, to scale up one of the most cost-effective interventions in global health: prenatal vitamins – known as multiple micronutrient supplements (MMS). This funding will go toward a $1 billion roadmap to ensure access to MMS for pregnant women no matter where they live.
The science on this issue is unequivocal. MMS replaces outdated iron and folic acid (IFA) tablets still given to many pregnant women in low-income countries. With MMS, women receive 15 nutrients, instead of just two, leading to a dramatic reduction in maternal anemia, stillbirth, and low birth weight. The estimated economic returns are $37 for every $1 invested while infant mortality is reduced by nearly one-third.
The global inequities in maternal health are profound. In London, a pregnant woman routinely has access to comprehensive prenatal vitamins. In Lagos, she might receive IFA, or nothing at all. The difference reflects a gap in will, not knowledge. Ending such disparities does not require a scientific breakthrough, just greater investment in already proven solutions.
More than two decades of research, three Lancet studies, and multiple World Bank investment cases have identified roughly ten nutrition interventions that are consistently underfunded despite their proven efficacy. These are not flashy, multisector, utopian initiatives. They are targeted, evidence-based programs that can be implemented immediately to deliver measurable results.
Solutions like breastfeeding support, Vitamin A supplementation, prenatal vitamins, and ready-to-use foods for severely malnourished children belong to a package of interventions that could save at least two million lives over five years if scaled up in nine high-burden countries. Such life-changing results would cost just $887 million per year.
Malnutrition is now the leading driver of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16505">child mortality</a> globally, contributing to some three million deaths in 2023 alone. These are not mysterious tragedies. They are predictable and in many cases cost little to prevent. In a world that routinely sends tourists to space, we obviously can afford to ensure that all <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time">pregnant women</a> have access to a $2 bottle of vitamins.
This year’s N4G Summit may be the last of its kind. It was part of a summit series linked to the Olympics, which will next be hosted by the US. With the current <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trump-s-second-coming">US administration </a>already signaling that it will not continue the tradition, recent commitments made in Paris have gained new urgency. Vague pledges and political posturing will no longer do.
We are not asking governments to spend like they used to. Rather, we are urging them to look at the evidence and use their remaining budgets for official <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/small-is-bountiful?fbclid=IwAR0wRoEdhgYO9qATGiukFQvK2fE6N8rCDZ4CBJBdkTC6_Es-6_mdVHldlic">development assistance</a> to scale up proven, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-is-still-possible">cost-effective solutions</a>. A modest investment in MMS – representing less than the cost of one week of G7 countries’ defense spending – could save 600,000 lives.
Even with constrained budgets, we have a chance to save millions of lives. But only if we stop trying to do everything, and focus instead on what is the right thing to do.
William Moore is the CEO of the Eleanor Crook Foundation and Chair of Stronger Foundations for Nutrition.

Philanthropy in an era of declining development aid

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

Over the last two decades, Nepal has made notable progress in maternal and neonatal healthcare. The<a href="https://mohp.gov.np/uploads/Resources/Final%20Report-26%20March-%202023-UPDATED.pdf"> maternal mortality ratio (MMR</a>) has declined from 536 per 100,000 live births in 1996 to 151 by 2021.
Driving this process were the country’s <a href="https://mohp.gov.np/program/safe-motherhood-programme/en">Safe Motherhood policy</a>, an increase in skilled healthcare providers, free delivery services for expectant mothers, incentive schemes for antenatal care, as well as postnatal visits.
Other measures, such as birth preparedness packages along with systematic planning for managing potential complications during childbirth, amplified these achievements.&nbsp;
There has been a remarkable rise in institutional deliveries, an increase in antenatal visits, and an impressive 70% of women receiving postpartum care from healthcare providers within the first two days after giving birth.
Quality improvement initiatives such as the Maternal and Perinatal Death Review, minimum health facility assessment standards, routine clinical monitoring, and supportive onsite supervision visits, have been outlined in policy documents and guidelines to elevate the overall quality of care.&nbsp;
However, it is when analysing province-wise MMR. that we still see significant disparities. Maternal deaths are still high in Lumbini Province (207 per 100,000 live births) and Karnali (172). The MMR in Bagmati Province (98) correlates with better figures for higher education, awareness and access to health service and providers.
In contrast, 83% of women in Karnali face challenges in seeking medical care, primarily due to financial constraints and long distance to healthcare facilities.
Half of the maternal deaths in Nepal are of mothers within the age groups of 15-34. Despite the legal marriage age being 20, child marriage is still widespread and contributes to the highest number of pregnancy-related deaths.&nbsp;
Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/remove-barriers-to-life-saving-drug-to-prevent-maternal-deaths">Remove barriers to life-saving drug to prevent maternal deaths</a>, Marty Logan
The median age of marriage in Nepal is 18.3 years, with the lowest median age in Madhes province at 16.6 years and the highest in Bagmati province at 19.9 years. The Muslim community reports the lowest at 16.5 years, while the Janajati and Brahmin/Chettri communities have generally higher median ages for marriage.
In Madhes and Sudur Paschim Provinces early marriages among girls under 15 contribute to heightened adolescent mortality, mainly due to difficulties accessing timely health facilities. Disparities persist among ethnic groups, particularly among doubly marginalised Madhesi Muslims, who face high mortality rates due to early marriages.
Health facility deliveries have improved from 10% in 2001 to 79% in 2021. But again, progress is uneven and these disparities need to be overcome to<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/more-equal-than-others"> meet the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals</a> (SDGs) target of 90% institutional delivery rate by 2030.
Wealth inequality and provincial variations, especially in Madhes, pose challenges that need nuanced understanding of women’s reluctance to seek health services.&nbsp;
Despite Nepal’s success in maintaining population growth close to replacement levels, the total fertility rate (TFR) is significantly higher among those without formal education. The proportion of postpartum family planning uptake is also lowest in Madhes and Sudur Paschim at only 0.2%.
Breastfeeding is in decline, with less than three out of five mothers following recommended practices. Regional variations highlight the need for targeted interventions, particularly in provinces like Bagmati, where breastfeeding rates are lower among well-educated city dwellers.&nbsp;
Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-has-progress-in-saving-women-s-lives-stalled">Why has progress in saving women’s lives stalled?</a>, Marty Logan
Anemia persists as another risk factor, with Madhes Province again carrying the highest burden.
Comparing Nepal with Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan shows that we are doing better in under-five and infant mortality rates. Nepal’s institutional delivery rate surpasses Bangladesh, but lags slightly behind India.
Even so, alarming disparities persist in neonatal and maternal mortality rates within disadvantaged groups, reflecting inadequate coverage of routine maternal and neonatal health visits and suboptimal care.&nbsp;
This points to both limited access to recommended interventions for disadvantaged women and potential inefficiencies in delivering crucial interventions during routine these visits.
Nepal should prioritise rural pockets of the country and employ a comprehensive strategy that includes delivering antenatal care through primary health care outreach, home visits, distributing essential medicines, vaccinations, and identifying appropriate health facilities for birth preparedness.
Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">“What can be more fulfilling than saving lives?</a>”, Naresh Newar
The quality of antenatal care must be improved by talking about nutrition with pregnant women and families, emphasising awareness of danger signs that necessitate timely health facility visits, and ensuring local governments can efficiently refer complicated cases, with airlifting as a viable option for emergencies.
Adolescent Sexual Reproductive Health with a targeted focus in provinces with early marriages and childbirths combined with education, awareness, and easy access to reproductive health services are imperative.
More effort is needed to meet the SDG target of reducing the MMR to 70 per 100,000 live births. Mitigating disparities among provinces demands political commitment, active local leadership, community engagement, especially leveraging the youth force, and fostering public-private partnerships at all levels.
Surya Bhatta is Executive Director of One Heart Worldwide that works primarily on maternal health in rural Nepal.

Saving more mothers and babies

Like any mother, Sharmila Chadara just wanted to get home to see her child. It was this primal urge, and other unrelated factors, that directly resulted in her death on the night of 24 November. It was easy for journalists to assume that she had died from ‘the cold’ following the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-earthquake-hits-w-nepal">earthquake on the night of 3 November</a> that killed 150 people outright in Jajarkot and Rukum West. Many of Sharmila’s neighbours in Ward 4 of Nalgad Rural Municipality and the surrounding mountains were forced to sleep outdoors after their houses collapsed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150116_b6edcb6e1b6f52540dfdbc84bdbc23a1701dc9b1f113b7d5da30cf7f8e277898.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240102150116_b6edcb6e1b6f52540dfdbc84bdbc23a1701dc9b1f113b7d5da30cf7f8e277898" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Jajrkot earthquake"> <figcaption>Damaged homes in Nalgad, Ward 1. Many locals are living in tents, below. All photos: MARTY LOGAN</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150116_d992b10f8725c5d0415191b0606b33f23c2cff8941e495199a2cea5528542da6.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240102150116_d992b10f8725c5d0415191b0606b33f23c2cff8941e495199a2cea5528542da6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>Tents in Nalgad Municipality, Ward 1, Jajarkot. Occupants had their houses destroyed or damaged in the November 3 earthquake.</figcaption> </figure>  A local politician was quoted saying that Sharmila had become the latest post-earthquake victim because she was sleeping under a flimsy plastic sheet as night temperatures dropped. The <a href="https://annapurnapost.com/story/447108/">news was picked up by the media</a>, and there was outrage across the country. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/jajarkot-one-month-after-the-earthquake">Jajarkot: One month after the earthquake</a>, Ramu Kharel and Maggie Doyne Had she survived, Sharmila Chadara would probably be sleeping inside the tiny home of her husband Dinesh in Nalgad located down a dusty path, a 15-minute walk from a narrow road. It was damaged but is habitable.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150116_1e7562050e0b55135f28e96726d6a003c699dbf02214b3849c38e64540b7cfd8.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240102150116_1e7562050e0b55135f28e96726d6a003c699dbf02214b3849c38e64540b7cfd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>The home where Sharmila Chadara lived in Nalgad Municipality. It was damaged in the earthquake but is still habitable.</figcaption> </figure>  Dinesh, 26, sheltered from the sun against the house as he told us about Sharmila’s final trip home. It was on Dasain Tika day in early November when Sharmila felt labour pains and they took a vehicle down to the local hospital.&nbsp; There were no doctors and the couple was advised to go to the hospital in Khalanga, where doctors in turn referred them to Surkhet. Sharmila had twins and it would be a risky delivery.&nbsp; In Surkhet, she delivered the first baby, a girl. The boy was born lifeless. The doctors advised them to keep the girl in the hospital so she would gain weight. After five days, staff noticed that Sharmila, who till then seemed healthy, developed a cough. They diagnosed severe pneumonia and put her in the ICU. But fluid built up in Sharmila’s lungs and she underwent dialysis, recalled Sakuntala Sapkota, the matron at the Surkhet hospital. “She had many ups and downs,” Sapkota told me. Sharmila had five dialysis treatments as she was shuttled back and forth between ICU and the general ward. At one point a doctor told Dinesh and relatives they might not be able to save Sharmila because her body was “completely infected”. After nearly three weeks, Sharmila had enough. She was missing her son and wanted to return to Jajarkot. But staff urged her to stay two more weeks until she was fully recovered. In Ladakh Three years earlier, Sharmila had travelled to Ladakh where Dinesh was working, as were her own parents. It is normal for at least one member of each household in Jajarkot and surrounding districts to migrate for work in India and beyond. Increasingly, many are taking illegal routes destined for the US. In Athbiskot Municipality we met one woman whose brother had been gone a year, and had only made it to Turkey after paying traffickers Rs10 million.&nbsp; Sharmila stayed and worked alongside her husband at a cement factory in Ladakh, returning for the first time this past Dasain. Dinesh remembers her falling ill in India and coughing up blood. A local doctor diagnosed it as ‘weakness’ and gave her medicine.&nbsp; “But she didn’t finish it,” her husband told us. “She never finished medicine, even vitamins. I don’t know why she was like that.” A neighbour remembers Sharmila as being honest and friendly. She did not like working in Ladakh, she added, but the pressure to earn money must have been strong. At the hospital in Surkhet, Sharmila threatened to pull out her IV drip, remove her oxygen mask, and die in her hospital bed if she was not taken home. Dinesh relented and booked an ambulance for the family’s return trip to Nalgad. The oxygen ran out on the way. “I was not even sure if she was breathing,” he recalled. When they reached the hospital emergency in Radi Bazar at 2AM her vital signs were nil, staff told him. Sharmila had died. Dinesh wanted to take her home. He hired a vehicle to carry her to the foot of the hill and rounded up people in the dead of night to carry her on a stretcher, reaching home at 4AM. Sharmila was finally reunited with her son.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150120_2713c13b4d2ba22fe28bc1bf96cfbcfd87a7ede9cc67678b67d69efbe4a4d851.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240102150120_2713c13b4d2ba22fe28bc1bf96cfbcfd87a7ede9cc67678b67d69efbe4a4d851" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>Dinesh Chadara with his son Ganesh at home in Nalgad Municipality recently.</figcaption> </figure>  Dinesh told us he has not made up his mind about returning to work in India. His in-laws have given him Rs150,000 to pay medical bills and he has borrowed more, but was still in debt. Sharmila’s baby has been released from hospital, and continues to gain weight and get routine vaccinations.&nbsp; Left out in the cold When we visited Jajarkot and Rukum West nearly two months after the earthquake, survivors were still living in tents and plastic shelters.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150124_1efe377bce5e1b8b264308d2378871aba0fc34c13046cabc6fffbdb940c7bb86.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240102150124_1efe377bce5e1b8b264308d2378871aba0fc34c13046cabc6fffbdb940c7bb86" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>A health post destroyed in Chinabagar, Ward 1, Rukum West.</figcaption> </figure>  A female community health volunteer (FCHV) in Athbiskot told us she was having trouble finding a good tent for a mother just discharged from a health facility with her newborn. Up the mountain, we reached the house of Seema Chand Malla, 28, who was eight months pregnant. Her brother-in-law was hammering together a door for a wooden shelter while waiting for the government’s Rs 50,000 temporary shelter allowance. Sitting on a windy ridge, Seema said: “It’s very cold, but so far we're OK – let’s see what happens.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/below-zero-at-ground-zero">Below zero at ground zero</a>, Durga Rana Magar Like many women we spoke to, Seema seemed to be receiving some, but not all, routine health services. She had gone for six pre-birth (ANC) visits, was taking calcium and iron supplements regularly and had been given medicine to prevent worms. As one of her three children, a son, played on her lap, she said her health was good. The local FCHV used to visit to provide vitamins or information about the children’s health, but Seema had not seen her since the earthquake. The family had received one blanket, a small tent, 25kg of rice and some buckets from the government and various agencies. When we returned from Seema Chand’s house four tractors arrived towing carts piled high with sleeping mats, rice and other goods. We saw such relief deliveries mixed with various stages of reconstruction work across the affected areas.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/demographics-of-disaster-in-nepal-quake">Demographics of disaster in Nepal quake</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150116_7f6c045a4fccc3bb87f6746e702f4db8362b2cfd1d960c55e6ed326fe2bca183.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240102150116_7f6c045a4fccc3bb87f6746e702f4db8362b2cfd1d960c55e6ed326fe2bca183" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>Seema Chand Malla, with her son, in Aathbiskot, Ward 14.</figcaption> </figure>  In Radi Bazar a crowd had gathered to get the forms needed to apply for government cash for shelters.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mass-cremations-for-nepal-quake-victims">The damage</a> seemed mostly random, with single houses on village roads reduced to rubble, but there were also whole clusters of homes that had fallen. On a slope overlooking the scenic, glacier-fed aquamarine Bheri River, there was a line of orange and blue tents. New mother Samjhana Bitalu, 19, crawled out from one of them to tell us that her house nearby was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/grief-stricken-survivors-are-cold-and-hungry">damaged in the earthquake</a> and uninhabitable.&nbsp; She and her 55-days-old baby Monika were staying here with her husband, who did not want to leave them alone to return to his job in Khalanga. Samjhana said she gave birth at a nearby health post, but no staff visited her afterwards. The only help the family had received was a tent and 25kg of rice from the Ward office.&nbsp; “When it rains it’s hard to keep the baby dry because the water comes inside the tent, and she has diarrhoea,” the mother said. Following local custom, she did not think the baby should receive any treatment before she was two months old. But a health worker urged Samjhana to get medical care for the baby. “It’s more difficult because I have to manage everything alone,” Samjhana said stoically. “Otherwise, everyone would have been together at home.” Nearby, Amrita Gharti, 22, was still living in her in-laws’ house with her husband. She was almost two months pregnant.&nbsp; Amrita previously had a miscarriage, despite being told by ANCs that she was healthy. This time, arriving at her local birthing facility for her first checkup, she was told to return when she was exactly two months pregnant. “They didn’t do my checkup. They were too busy,” she said.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240102150120_e6d6fd29a04a5c3fa20fc6bd50c2236287fce0b7ddce0e508fefb329644ecf91.png" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20240102150120_e6d6fd29a04a5c3fa20fc6bd50c2236287fce0b7ddce0e508fefb329644ecf91" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>Amrita Gharti is pregnant and living in her in-laws' house in Nalgad, Ward 1.</figcaption> </figure>  Aruna Chaudhary of the Radha Paudel Foundation spent two weeks in Nalgad providing menstrual kits to 450 women and adolescent girls.&nbsp; Demand for her support was great and the cold was especially hard on children, she told us.&nbsp; “Many children have pneumonia and cholera and have to take medicine,” she added. “There was lots of diarrhoea and many had injuries from the earthquake itself.”&nbsp; Pneumonia and other cold-related illnesses were also growing in Chinabagar where lack of water and sanitation was worsening the situation, especially for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/remove-barriers-to-life-saving-drug-to-prevent-maternal-deaths">women and adolescent girls</a>. Dhani Kumar Giri from the group WOREC was assisting arrivals at a tent while the group also provided care door-to-door. In a nearby tent an organization was providing psychological counselling to those troubled by the disaster. Some good news Around noon on 6 December, Man Kumari Singh arrived with labour pains at the health post in Athbiskot-4 of Jajarkot. She was pregnant with twins, but had been declared healthy during previous visits to the facility. But by 4PM her labour had not progressed and Man Kumari was starting to shake in distress. Staff decided to request a helicopter rescue, but by the time permission was granted from Kathmandu it was too late in the day.&nbsp; Health post staff decided to send her to the municipal hospital in Dali, but doctors there referred her to the mission hospital in Chaurjahari instead. They sent an ambulance carrying two nurses to accompany her. At 1AM that night Man Kumari’s twins were delivered normally. By noon she had been transferred to the ICU at the provincial hospital in Surkhet. Soon after she was moved to the general ward and by 19 December she had recovered and been discharged. The twins were also reported to be in good health. Author thanks One Heart Worldwide for arranging logistics for reporting on this story.&nbsp;

Poverty killed a mother, not the quake

Remove barriers to life-saving drug to prevent maternal deaths

As a nurse, Anju Chaudhary has to often test the limits of her skills when dealing with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/another-babys-life-is-saved-in-rural-nepal">complicated pregnancies</a> that arrive at the government hospital here in Katari.&nbsp; She is also the leader of a team of nurses who are on duty for 24 hours a day, seven days a week, caring for patients. Chaudhary has helped deliver over 1,000 babies and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/saving-nepali-mothers-and-babies-district-by-district">prevented the deaths of many mothers and newborns</a>. But no case was as challenging as that of Sharmila Surkheti. One morning in March, the 30-year-old Dalit woman arrived at the hospital, weak and bleeding profusely.&nbsp; “We had never seen a mother in such a near-death situation, but we were prepared, and we got into action immediately to save her life,” recalls Chaudhary. Surkheti had already been pregnant 13 times in her young life. All six of her newborns were delivered at home, and she had undergone seven abortions. Barely a year ago, she had another baby who died at childbirth. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-will-save-nepal-s-poor-new-mothers">Who will save Nepal's poor new mothers?</a>, Rojita Adhikari This year, she decided to try to risk her own life to try for another son but there was post partum haemorrhage after the baby was born. Her husband helped get her to Katari Hospital while leaving behind the newborn. It was a two hour walk from home. There was no General Physician at the hospital that day so it was up to Chaudhary and her nurse team to save her life. A quick decision had to be made. They used the bundle approach in postpartum haemorrhage (PPH) management to control the bleeding. As a chronic anaemic patient, the mother had a low haemoglobin of only 6.1, which was alarming. To save her life, the nurses planned to take Surkheti to a better-equipped hospital in Gaighat but the family could not even afford transportation. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-rural-lifeline">Nepal's rural lifeline</a>, Sonia Awale Her blood pressure dropped alarmingly low, and the nurses immediately created an emergency fund to pay for the private ambulance to reach Gaighat. She also needed blood transfusion, but Surkheti’s husband was malnourished and there were concerns about his health. The nurses then found a male colleague at the hospital who agreed to donate his blood. They closely monitored the mother, and her haemoglobin improved to 8.8. The hospital’s Acting Medical Superintendent, Dr. Gaurab Shah, an MD Pathologist, also put a lot of effort into managing a blood donor.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230902040916_6d4eb5e618d116e1cbcc72776152080ad55f53e026f67be55044f350d2849c2e.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230902040916_6d4eb5e618d116e1cbcc72776152080ad55f53e026f67be55044f350d2849c2e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2100" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Nurses in rural Nepal"> </figure>  The next day, the nurses gave her iron tablets, B complex, and vitamins and she was sent home. But during a post-natal home visit, the nurses were dismayed to see the utter poverty of the Surkheti’s family, including her husband and six children. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health">This is how to upgrade Nepal's rural health</a>, Sewa Bhattarai Given her anaemic state and being very weak, Surkheti was unable to produce milk and had been feeding biscuits to her baby which worried the nurses. The family had no money to buy formula milk.&nbsp; So the nurses started collecting cash from their own pockets and started a fundraiser through online requests and on the phone. But there was very little response, and the six nurses put in their own money to save the mother and baby.&nbsp; “The greatest gift for me was to hear the words of gratitude from the mother who survived the ordeal,” says Chaudhary modestly. Despite her training as a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/saving-nepali-mothers-on-mother-s-day">Skilled Birth Attendant</a> that she had done many years ago, Chaudhary had no knowledge of uterine balloon tamponade, which can help in the treatment of PPH.&nbsp; After graduating from her nursing education, she was transferred to Bir Hospital where she never got the chance to work with mothers and babies, as she was too busy handling injuries and accidents in the emergency department. It was only after she moved back to Katari Hospital in Udaypur that her career path changed with the help of the non-profit <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">One Heart Worldwide</a> (OHW). She received an invitation from OHW to attend its Simulation-based Mentorship Program in 2017 which allowed her to learn new skills. “I feel fortunate that my team was there to help Surkheti, and today, both she and her baby are healthy,” she says.&nbsp; Indeed, at a time when many Nepali nurses aim to migrate abroad the nation should be thankful for the dedication and passion of nurses like Anju Chaudhary.&nbsp;

Saving one Nepali mother at a time

When Sajadi Khatun felt the familiar pain, she knew what to do: she, her husband, her mother and a neighbour quickly left their house in Laxmipur village and started the 20-minute walk to nearby Sundarpur Health Post. They did not get far. Ten minutes later, Sajadi delivered a baby boy on the roadside.&nbsp; After delivery, the tired new mother returned to her home on the outskirts of Sarlahi’s district headquarters Malangwa while the rest took the newborn — the family’s fifth child, and third boy — to the health post for a check-up. A nurse visited and found both mother and child health.&nbsp; “I wasn’t worried about giving birth on the roadside," says Sajadi, stoically, although she and her husband had wanted to deliver the new baby in the health post, like her previous three children. The first was delivered at home as there was no health post in the community at the time.&nbsp; Ahead of the last birth, Sajadi had gone to the health post for check-ups (known as ante-natal care, ANC, visits) eight times before her due date. Recently, Nepal increased the recommended number of ANC visits from four to eight, but in 2022 just 68.4% of women in Madhes Province did four or more ANCs.&nbsp; The local Female Community Health Volunteer (FCHV) had also visited her house many times. On the advice of those health workers, Sajadi was eating as healthy as possible to keep up her own weight and that of the baby.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623080636_18c6ee1ef9c231899017a764b9a89ff1ab5d9d3cd4eb417cf91e4868d2041f1f.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230623080636_18c6ee1ef9c231899017a764b9a89ff1ab5d9d3cd4eb417cf91e4868d2041f1f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1496" height="828" loading="lazy" alt="Map Sarlahi"> </figure>  At the health post, Sajadi, who is not sure of her age but is probably about 30 according to the FCHV sitting nearby during our interview, also started taking calcium and iron supplements and got a tetanus/diphtheria vaccination. Because the facility did not have an ultrasound machine, she and her husband, who do not own a vehicle, paid to go to a nearby private clinic and get the examination. It revealed no problems but staff there estimated her due date 20 days later than the actual delivery day.&nbsp; We do not know what would have happened if the ultrasound had been done at the health post, and produced a more accurate delivery date, but the roadside birth highlights again how lack of resources plays a role in maternal and child health in Nepal, despite the best intentions of health personnel and, of course, families. There was no ultrasound machine at the health post, and no ambulance to call when Sajadi’s labour started.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623080612_a44aa91ec02c4b2996c3b0bbdfc17847b279fefd6720b65fb5d2cf0fa5d40e78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230623080612_a44aa91ec02c4b2996c3b0bbdfc17847b279fefd6720b65fb5d2cf0fa5d40e78" data-rendition-name="original" width="3007" height="2619" loading="lazy" alt="Sajadi Khatun"> <figcaption>New mother Sajadi Khatun, holding her fifth child, talks to nurse Sunita Rai in front of her home near Malangwa in Sarlahi district. </figcaption> </figure>  “The problem is that we don’t have an ambulance in the municipality,” says Auxiliary Nurse Midwife Sunita Rai, who accompanies us to Sajadi’s house. “If we had an ambulance when a woman has a problem like a roadside delivery, we could send it right away and reduce the number of home deliveries.” Sarlahi district, and Madhes Province overall, still have a high number of home deliveries. Statistics from the district health office show that 53.5% of births happened in health facilities in 2021-22. That leaves 46.5% occurring at home or en route to facilities. The Nepal Demographic Health Survey (NDHS) 2022 found that 66.6% of births in Madhes Province occur in a facility versus 79.3% for Nepal overall.&nbsp; “The health situation in Madhes Province is a little worrisome to us, despite all the facilities there,” said the secretary of the Ministry of Health, Roshan Pokhrel. “We’re thinking about giving different targets to different provinces, rather than having a central target,” he added.&nbsp; Nepal is aiming to reach the global Sustainable Development Goals (SDG) target of 70 maternal deaths per 100,000 births. The 2022 rate was 151, according to the NDHS.&nbsp; Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health"> This is how to upgrade Nepal's rural health</a>, Sewa Bhattarai In Sarlahi, health infrastructure is a key factor affecting maternal health. Medical Superintendent of Malangwa Hospital, Nawal Kishore Jha, told us that the facility has burst its seams. For example, when the Covid-19 pandemic displaced the emergency and in-patient departments, they moved to what was the waiting area, where they remain when we visit in April.&nbsp; Also, two years ago the hospital delivered one or two babies daily, but today it is closer to 20, including a growing number of Caesarean sections, yet the facility lacks a gynaecologist, meaning that non-specialists perform the 3-5 ‘C-sections’ done daily.&nbsp; Reached again on budget day, 16 June, Jha has good news: his hospital will be upgraded to a 100-bed facility. That could mean more buildings, more trained staff and equipment, including a CT scan machine.&nbsp; In case of a maternal emergency, accessing the district hospital — the best-resourced health facility in Sarlahi — should not be an issue as it is only a one-hour drive away from anywhere in the district, unless there is monsoon flooding, adds Jha. Yet as Sajadi’s example shows, lack of resources — like ambulances — can still be a barrier.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623080636_749b8cb16b39c940e487ba9770a57df181a69ce80f9878240eb273c16e5d4096.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230623080636_749b8cb16b39c940e487ba9770a57df181a69ce80f9878240eb273c16e5d4096" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="1800" loading="lazy" alt="Mothers of Sarlahi 2"> <figcaption>Women harbest wheat during the pre-monsoon Tarai heat wave recently in Malangwa.</figcaption> </figure>  While Jha and the nurses at health posts all say people’s awareness of maternal health and its potential complications could be higher overall, in the diverse communities near Malangwa, most women and their families are motivated to use health facilities, both to get as healthy as possible before giving birth and for the actual delivery.&nbsp; Besides awareness, living conditions are a major factor, says nurse Kanchen Rai at Laxmipur Khodra Health Post: “We can provide education, but the biggest problem is people’s lack of money. There has been some improvement but the poorest people still don’t have clean water and toilets.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623080620_b68ff8cb3b3aa01e13dd5ae964c1a4b71296a0ac601a42d47eaa2ce4698db618.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230623080620_b68ff8cb3b3aa01e13dd5ae964c1a4b71296a0ac601a42d47eaa2ce4698db618" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="Rabena Khatun"> <figcaption>First time mother Rabena Khatun with her baby in front og her house near Malangwa in Sarlahi district. ALL PHOTOS: MARTY LOGAN</figcaption> </figure>  “Pockets” that are away from urban areas and further marginalised by diverse factors are where home births still happen, and must be targeted for improvement, says Jha.&nbsp; First-time mother Rabena Khatun, 22, told us she felt “very happy” when she knew she was pregnant. Within three months she had visited the health post for her first ANC, following it up “3 or 4” more times before delivery, accompanied by her mother-in-law.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/midwives-to-the-rescue-in-nepal">Midwives to the rescue</a>, Laxmi Tamang “The nurses told me I should eat more nutritious food so that I gain weight,” she tells us, crouching on the ground outside of her small thatch-roofed bamboo home, cradling her son Ehsan, now 37 days old, on her lap.&nbsp; When Rabena’s labour pains began, she went to the health post with her mother-in-law and two other relatives. After 10-12 hours the baby was born, without complications. Instructed by a nurse, the first-time mother started breastfeeding within 30 minutes.&nbsp; She tells us that no one in her family or community suggested during her pregnancy that she deliver at home, adding, “All the facilities are there (in the health post) so I felt confident.”&nbsp; <h2>Promise of a healthier district</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023062308068_9211b4979e6bafea6f5138663b56b17c33b42294bb53e81c7d3280b5a34fe400.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2023062308068_9211b4979e6bafea6f5138663b56b17c33b42294bb53e81c7d3280b5a34fe400" data-rendition-name="original" width="1297" height="664" loading="lazy" alt="saving lives"> </figure>  The Medical Superintendent of Sarlahi District Hospital in Malangwa, Nawal Kishore Jha, sounded upbeat after hearing in the Madhes Province government budget on 16 June that the facility will be upgraded to a 100-bed hospital.&nbsp; “I’m very happy with the decision, it responds to all our demands,” Jha said on a call from Malangwa. The larger facility will receive more trained staff, more space, including to provide maternal healthcare services, and more equipment such as a machine for CT scans.&nbsp; The government also announced it would build two 50-bed hospitals elsewhere in the district, and that all other municipalities would have 15-bed facilities.&nbsp; The budget revealed that Sarlahi will become a 'completely safe motherhood district'. Among other things, that means all births will be in health facilities, accompanied by skilled health workers, and all pregnant women will have the required number of pre and post-natal checkups.&nbsp; “It is possible,” says Jha, “but it will take some time.” <h2>Bumpy ride triggers birth</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623070656_11438bd7c592e3d356ed26bfcb7de4ae014f8b23549bcafe2f383d6083c61224.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230623070656_11438bd7c592e3d356ed26bfcb7de4ae014f8b23549bcafe2f383d6083c61224" data-rendition-name="original" width="2794" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="Mother of sarlahi 1"> <figcaption>Anita Kumari Yadav with her baby and husband. </figcaption> </figure>  Anita Kumari Yadav had felt a pain for three days that she thought meant she was going into labour for her first baby. She walked to nearby Sisautiya Health Post, but was always told it hadn’t started.&nbsp; On the third day, nursing staff referred her to the district hospital because of the delay. When she arrived with her in-laws after a bumpy ambulance ride, she was told she would need a Caesarean section.&nbsp; “I was scared to have an operation,” says Anita, 20. She called her husband, a bus driver who was en route from Kathmandu. He told the family to wait until he arrived. But they didn’t have to. The baby was born half an hour later, one positive outcome of the bone-jarring ambulance ride, speculates Auxiliary Nurse Midwife Ringku Kumari Raut.&nbsp; Like the other women interviewed in the Malangwa area, Anita diligently did her ANC check-ups, once also visiting the district hospital to have a test confirmed. She took iron and calcium supplements (when in stock) and added fortified flour to her diet to gain weight.&nbsp; Nurse Raut says she is happy with how she and her colleagues managed Anita’s delivery, despite the health post’s limited resources: “Everything is fine now but if something had happened, the hospital had resources and facilities to deal with it.” <h2>Maternal deaths deliver lessons</h2> A day before the central government budget was released on 29 May, officials in the Family Welfare Division (FWD) of the Department of Health were resigned to the fact that the status quo was the most they could achieve in programming for the 2023-24 fiscal year.&nbsp; But Section Chief Gauri Pradhan had her fingers crossed that a verbal promise of more funding would allow the section to expand at least one program — for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/3-nepali-mothers-still-die-daily-at-childbirth">maternal and perinatal death</a> surveillance and response (MPDSR).&nbsp; Started in Nepal at the Maternity Hospital in Thapathali in 1992, guidelines were created for the program in 2015 and revised in 2021. Today, MPDSR takes place in 42 districts, both in hospitals and where there are maternal and newborn deaths in communities.&nbsp; The promised funding, from an external partner, will permit the program to expand to more hospitals and communities. Pradhan displays the WhatsApp app on her mobile, which shows a group for reporting of mother and newborn deaths in hospitals and another for community deaths.&nbsp; Asked why this one program is likely to be the only maternal and newborn health initiative in the FWD to expand next year, Pradhan says: “It is the basic thing to take action to learn the cause of death. Without knowing the causes, how can we develop activities to make childbirth safer?”&nbsp; Expenses for this trip were paid by One Heart Worldwide.

Mothers of Sarlahi

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cbc9c7e80680e0b7884jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="540"/><figcaption>Nurses Puspa Pandhak and Sumnima Khapung delivering the baby inside a jeep late at night on 3 March, after concluding that they could not reach the Tehrathum district hospital in time because of the bad road. Photo: DINESH BHATTARAI</figcaption></figure>Puspa Pandhak was just finishing her duty at a rural hospital in Tehrathum district last week when a 19-year-old woman was brought in on a stretcher, writhing in pain.As a birth attendant nurse, Pandhak had performed more than 100 safe deliveries in the past five years, but this maternity case was the first breech she was having to deal with.“As soon as I saw the position of the baby, we decided not to take the risk and take her to Tehrathum Hospital,” Pandhak says.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/birth-and-death-during-a-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Birth and death during a pandemic</a>, Nunuta RaiBut, as is often the case in rural Nepal, they could not get an ambulance. The condition of the mother and baby was deteriorating, and every second counted.Luckily, a four-wheel drive jeep just happened to pass by and gave them a lift. Pandhak and fellow nurse Sumnima Khapung got on with their patient, taking along their delivery kits.The road was bumpy and dangerous, made worse by the previous day’s heavy rain and the pitch black night. It was already 9:30PM, and they were nowhere near their destination.“It was a rough ride, and we were being thrown about inside the car, but I tried to reassure the young expecting mother since this would be her first baby,” Pandhak recalls.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-will-save-nepals-poor-new-mothers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Who will save Nepal's poor new mothers</a>, Rojita AdhikariIn the front seat, the patient’s mother and husband were panicking, and that was not helping at all. Then driver Dinesh Bhattarai also started getting unnerved, and that was not a good sign.It was now nearly 11PM, and it did not look like they would get to the district hospital in time. Pandhak made the tough decision to stop the journey in the small bazar of Tukre.“The trip was becoming too long due to the poor road condition and I knew we would never reach the hospital where an emergency doctor and midwife team were on standby to receive us,” Pandhak recounts. “I was very nervous, but knew that the mother was in bad shape and I needed to help somehow.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cbe9c7e80680e0b7885jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1070" height="1600"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The two nurses then decided the safest course was to deliver the baby inside the car. In a breech case, the baby’s body is upside down, which means the head is stuck. Pandhak and Khapung tried to help the mother push the baby, while aware that this could injure her.Finally, the nurses managed to carefully pull the baby out, without the mother suffering a serious tear.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Saving one Nepali mother at a time</a>, Aruna Uprety“I cannot describe the elation and relief that we felt, and I am sure the mother and her relatives were much happier than us, we had delivered a healthy baby inside a cramped car, and mother was also fine,” Pandhak told us on the phone from Tehrathum.After the enroute delivery, the jeep with one extra person on board, continued the journey to Tehrathum District Hospital. When they got there just past midnight, the emergency team could not believe what they saw.Says Pandhak, “They were so proud of us as they took charge of mother and baby at the birthing facility. It was a nerve-wracking experience, but it all ended well.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cc19c7e80680e0b7886jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="794" height="854"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Pandhak and Khapung are on the frontlines of Nepal’s efforts to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/3-nepali-mothers-still-die-daily-at-childbirth/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reduce maternal and infant mortality</a>. Thirty years ago, 10 in 10,000 women in Nepal used to die in childbirth. That number has come down to 2 in 10,000. But progress has now flat-lined, and 1,500 mothers still die during delivery every year in the country.Even though such individual acts of heroism never make it to the news, it is the work of Female Community Health Volunteers, dedicated Skilled Birth Attendants (SBAs) like Puspa Pandhak and Sumnima Khapung, and local governments that are helping save lives every day across Nepal.In this case, it was also the support for renovating and equipping the birthing centre and midwife training provided by the organisation One Heart Worldwide (OHW) to Menchhhyayem Rural Municipality that helped raise the capacity of the two nurses.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cc39c7e80680e0b7887jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">OHW uses a partnership approach</a> with rural municipalities to upgrade birthing centres through cost-sharing to encourage local ownership. When the work is complete it moves on to other districts.“I still feel so relieved and excited that we saved the lives of the mother and baby, and it was also a life-changing moment for me,” Pandhak says. “I feel so happy to see the family so thrilled. This is the greatest reward that a nurse can ever have.”Pandhak says it was the OHW training that gave her the confidence to make the right decision to deliver in the car and not wait to get to hospital. She adds, “The successful outcome has also given us new confidence to deal with complicated cases in future.”

Another baby's life is saved in rural Nepal

In the black and white photograph, General Wangdu smiles broadly in front of the dusty cactus garden in Kathmandu’s Annapurna Hotel. With an ill-fitting jacket and shaggy hair he looks benign enough, but this was the last leader of the Tibetan freedom fighters who led the resistance against the Chinese from their remote mountain hideouts in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Mustang</a>. Five months later, Wangdu was dead. Snapped in March 1974, I had only recently arrived in Nepal. How did I meet this legendary fighter? Possibly with his devoted camp follower, Lynne Klapecki, and probably in the Om Restaurant near Freak Street which was the preferred <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hippie-trail-nostalgia-in-kathmandu">hippie hang-out</a>. Om Lobsang and his brother Yeshe were <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/earthquake-brings-back-memories-of-camps-for-tibetan-refugees">refugees from East Tibet </a>whose cafe offered a friendly welcome and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/momo-loco"> the best momos</a> - they became my in-laws after I married their eldest brother Tenzin, but that was a decade later.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_4573b34282b0f5395c007243d6bef12c7ba76bfd520419e994cdcea048d795a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025052403054_4573b34282b0f5395c007243d6bef12c7ba76bfd520419e994cdcea048d795a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1583" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Photo: LISA CHOEGYAL</figcaption> </figure>  Wangdu’s English was enthusiastically rudimentary, but even riding around town with him on the back of an aging <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-new-motorbike-museum">motorbike</a>, he was a commanding presence. Always flanked by armed outriders, impressive scars marked his forearms and a pistol hung from the cord around his neck. A charismatic guerrilla leader, Wangdu was celebrated by his followers for his tough commitment and respected for his measured pragmatism. He seemed so young to have shouldered such a responsibility of command, leading hundreds of hardened <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/50-years-after-the%20raid-into-Tibet,1012#google_vignette">Khampa combatants </a>through what had been a particularly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/heavy-snowfall-over-nepal-himalaya">brutal winter in Mustang</a>, the last bastion to hold out against the Chinese invasion of their Tibetan homeland.&nbsp; The freedom fighters of Tibet, known as the Chushi-Gangdruk, had emerged to resist the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/territorialism">Chinese takeover</a> of Tibet during the 1950s. Estimated to be 80,000-strong at the time of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-or-who-after-the-dalai-lama">the Dalai Lama</a>’s final escape to India in 1959, the sheer number of Chinese deployed into Tibet eventually forced the Chushi-Gangdruk to retreat to Mustang, From this high Himalayan stronghold, they continued cross-border raids on the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) throughout the 1960s.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_8a4a935ba25ae79dc3a63bb5c14626927020e5ec098093c45ccb9a5982e009fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025052403054_8a4a935ba25ae79dc3a63bb5c14626927020e5ec098093c45ccb9a5982e009fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1114" height="676" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Guerrillas known as the Chushi-Gangdruk emerged to resist the Chinese annexation of Tibet during the 1950s. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>  Their Kathmandu base was a small discreet lodge in a back lane near Rani Pokhari. Sipping sweet tea from a blue mug with a chipped lid, I sat bemused in a corner of the Mustang Hotel room whilst Wangdu and his cohorts received a battered brown suitcase from their CIA connection, a tousle-haired American in a leather jacket. Heaved onto the dingy bedspread that covered the thin mattress, it was clicked open to reveal piles of neatly stacked dollar bills.&nbsp; I cannot think why Wangdu allowed me to witness this handover but I was clearly no threat, a newly arrived world traveller with no understanding of the stakes nor any Nepali or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tibetan-music-in-nepals-sacred-valley">Tibetan language</a>. Despite armed guards in the corridor,Wangdu radiated confidence and bravado, and there was a practiced familiarity to the tense transaction. This deadly dance for many years had been funded by the Americans, tolerated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kingdom-within-a-republic">Mustang’s residents</a>, and permitted by King Mahendra and the Nepali authorities who it suited to turn a blind eye.&nbsp; But Mahendra died in 1972, and times were changing. Richard Nixon’s ping-pong diplomacy thawed the cold war and signalled a fresh entente with China. Nepal’s yet-to-be-crowned <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">King Birendra </a>was under pressure to curb the irritating incursions against the PLA launched from the Nepali territory of Mustang. Keen to appease his northern neighbour, on several occasions the King summoned Wangdu for peace talks but, despite increasingly overwhelming odds, Wangdu refused to surrender.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_a8efd5cfb92cd997bd7cb74296a936fef46e2f7428f9cd642b03f1ac4ea11ecb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="2025052403054_a8efd5cfb92cd997bd7cb74296a936fef46e2f7428f9cd642b03f1ac4ea11ecb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1055" height="885" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>General Wangdu flanked by two Tibetan resistance fighters in Mustang in the 1970s. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_75969125a745847a2ef82b6fe8b9106c0b21a116d85b8efdf5d2ee89a347bb31.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2025052403054_75969125a745847a2ef82b6fe8b9106c0b21a116d85b8efdf5d2ee89a347bb31" data-rendition-name="original" width="1044" height="792" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>King Birendra with General Wangdu (right in dark glasses) taken in 1974 possibly in Mustang after one of their few attempts at negotiation. Photo courtesy: RAJRNDRA KUNWAR</figcaption> </figure>  While I naively rode pillion around Kathmandu in the spring sunshine, Wangdu was in the midst of what turned out to be his final round of negotiations with the Nepal government. Refusing to cease hostilities with the Chinese, Wangdu must have suspected the cost of his decision, making his cheerful smile in the photograph all the more poignant and brave. It was only much later that I appreciated the significance of the moment. Wangdu had been sent to replace the first resistance leader in Mustang, Baba Gen Yeshe, a much derided corrupt character who stole money meant for his troops and exploited fleeing refugees by seizing their treasures. Baba Gen Yeshe never forgave Wangdu,and sought revenge in May 1974 by betraying him and his commanders to the Nepal authorities. Renewed Chinese incursions from the north, active PLA collusion with the Nepali forces under the new King, and treachery from within the Chushi-Gangdrukranks combined to seal their fate.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_e0987a7c90d76431b0d7d5e6115ebfe3dbda7ab939e5941e079c18d722e884c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025052403054_e0987a7c90d76431b0d7d5e6115ebfe3dbda7ab939e5941e079c18d722e884c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="769" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>British television journalists George Patterson and Adrian Cowell embedded themselves with Khampa guerrillas and accompanied them from Tsum Valley on a cross border raid on a Chinese Army convoy in 1964. Photo: ESSAYS ON NEPAL / SAM COWAN</figcaption> </figure>  Mikel Dunham, renowned author of Buddha’s Warriors, writes: ‘It is possible that Wangdu was waiting for some cue from the Dalai Lama’s government-in-exile in Dharamsala, India. It is equally possible – during that last, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-human-cost-of-nepal-s-yarsa-gold-rush?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR31-Cqw8oyIwMPzf_35e4Skr0ululJvLf3_vDkzHn-AYG2h8uPw2rqqErg_aem_tGVn5coY1-jA7fze_xqhew">desolate winter </a>– that he made the decision to go out in glory rather than admit defeat. Over the last fifteen years, Wangdu had experienced Tibet’s organized resistance being squeezed and shoved around by every conceivable outside force.&nbsp; First they had been pushed out of their own country by the PLA; then they had been refused sanction while on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/nepal-india-trans-boundary-bonds?fbclid=IwAR0PpJ5zUEbwdug3g_U3ar6FUugngRY0S8Tl2v_7wqzrsHmXWcXsKjvL4t4">Indian soil</a>; then they were abandoned by the Americans because, apparently, Nixon wanted to make friends with Wangdu’s mortal enemies, the communists; then they had been betrayed by the vampiric Baba Gen Yeshe – a Tibetan and, even worse, a fellow Khampa; and now, finally Wangdu’s army was being evicted by the Nepalis. One thing was certain: Wangdu was a warrior. To imagine Wangdu simply giving up and settling down in the pacific squalor of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp">refugee camp </a>was unthinkable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_8fc1ffef4ae751628b90ae781b66e11e51e4fdde2787207c9042efbee345ce49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="2025052403054_8fc1ffef4ae751628b90ae781b66e11e51e4fdde2787207c9042efbee345ce49" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="746" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>The much derided Baba Gen Yeshe, the first Tibetan resistance leader in Mustang, who betrayed Wangdu for personal gain. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_b1d833cdb00d3ac4416b844d8730475cd88c238caaaf8da69889a584eea229a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="2025052403054_b1d833cdb00d3ac4416b844d8730475cd88c238caaaf8da69889a584eea229a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="656" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Aditya SJB Rana of the Royal Nepal Army whose team ambushed Wangdu and his cohorts at the top of Tinker Pass in Darchula, West Nepal. Photo courtesy: GAUTAM SJB RANA</figcaption> </figure>  By August 1974 the game was up. Wangdu and six of his exhausted party were killed on their horses by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7270">the Royal Nepal Army</a> on the brink of escape. The officer in charge, Aditya SJB Rana, cleverly predicted their route into India after they failed to silence a police radio in Yari. A carefully laid ambush trapped them near the summit of the Tinker Pass in Darchula,at 5,000 meters the highest military operation of its time. Wangdu’s body was helicoptered to Kathmandu, and a big show made of the royal Nepal victory.&nbsp; The Tibetan armed insurgency against China had reached its end.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250524030520_3ff9c6fc85a65bc9a2c3afe9736d9f5f9413de752e790a5d9dca0981ea94f9b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20250524030520_3ff9c6fc85a65bc9a2c3afe9736d9f5f9413de752e790a5d9dca0981ea94f9b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> </figure>

The Last Days of the Khampa

Starting 17 September Turkish Airlines will fly daily to Seville, one of Spain’s major tourist draws. This is Turkish’s sixth destination in Spain after Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Malaga, and Bilbao. Seville is in the Andalusia region on Spain’s south coast with a rich Moor history. There are approximately 30,000 Nepalis living in Spain.&nbsp;

Turkish to Seville

The newly-formed Himalayan Art Council is set to launch Nepal’s National Art Protection Platform that seeks to preserve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage">Nepal’s unique cultural heritage </a>using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificial-censorship"> AI-powered tools</a>. The Council seeks to safeguard <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali art works</a> from neglect, theft and counterfeiting as well as preserve existing artwork and celebrate living masters by giving them a cultural space to continue the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival">sacred art traditions</a>. "We are introducing a new digital platform designed to preserve, verify and elevate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-new-generation-of-alternative-artists">Nepal’s art for generations to come,</a>” says a statement from the Council, adding that the digital platform will use AI told for authentication and blockchain to keep track of works of art. Artists can now be protected by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/ayo-ai?fbclid=IwAR1uwmTVq4gUB70ljfRezjzukD9ArWXPuMnUikopeQ8PoiZMjicToPSwhKE&amp;=1">AI tools</a> that detect forgeries, identify their work even when unsigned, and ensure they receive proper recognition and credit. The archives will be searchable with translated inscription and interactive guides. Says curator Meena Lama: “AI and blockchains are tools that give us the power to detect fakes and identify unsigned paintings and track every piece. With these tools we can restore trust, secure authorship and give artists the dignity they deserve.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum."> <figcaption>Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  The Council is also holding an exhibition of Nepali cultural masterpieces with 50 historical <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671">thangka and paubha </a>by past masters and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">contemporary works by current artists</a>. This curated collection is a living tribute to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">Himalayan culture</a> with economic depictions of deities, mandala and sacred narratives. The exhibition at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-portal-into-patan-s-past-and-present">Patan Museum</a> also provides an opportunity to meet painters and custodians of art and culture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/golden-deities">Golden deities</a>, Sewa Bhattarai ‘The exhibition is only the first step in a long journey to ensure that Nepali art is no just seen but fully understood, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Narratives-of-Faith-and-Memory-Remembering-the-Lost-Sculptures-of-Kathmandu-exhibition,987">protected and remembered</a>,’ the Council says. Artist Kailash K Shrestha of Artudio has spent decades promoting thankha and paubha traditions because of their beauty and devotional meaning. But he also says artists are underpaid, exploited and ignored. He adds, “AI and blockchain are not just buzzwords, they are powerful tools that can protect Nepal’s artists from fraud, verify authenticity and build a permanent record of provenance.” Traditional Art Exhibition Till 17 May Patan Museum

Digital protection for Nepal’s art

<a href="https://www.instagram.com/prabalgurung/" target="_blank">Prabal Gurung</a> left Nepal for New York in 1999 to escape years of bullying, sexism and homophobia, and to pursue his dream of becoming a fashion designer. He <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqN0VaoAI5w" target="_blank">realised his dream</a>, but did not escape discrimination and racism in the new world. Propelled by passion for fashion, Gurung overcame everything America threw at him. He has attained <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/style/story/prabal-gurung-recalls-his-first-met-gala-when-zoe-saldana-was-at-his-side?srsltid=AfmBOooy-H0oGgxMit864FnW_Pmw8mUnV8rYrh-co-f6OyYK6m2ip5hP" target="_blank">fame and recognition</a> for his haute couture dress designs while remaining true to his Nepali roots, and is even more resolute in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSmNauyzACk" target="_blank">fighting prejudice</a> in all its forms. Prabal Gurung’s newly-released memoir <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Audible-Walk-Like-Girl-Memoir/dp/B0DG11HCDQ?fbclid=IwY2xjawKZfpxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHuZcIJO2OXyXcRm1oq1iG6wzeoF7VJFrQ7GXOFI0YxuZZ4id_CNvSZSZZIna_aem_pG_mOKG73RTnYvN8JaC4fA">Walk Like a Girl</a> is a saga of harrowing abuse in boarding schools in Nepal and India, only finding himself facing a different kind of bullying in the US. He prevails over it all to be where he is today: an award-winning American fashion designer with his own label. Walk Like a Girl was launched last week in New York at a time when everything Gurung fought for — tolerance, inclusion and diversity — are in retreat in his adopted country because of a president who has espoused a culture of bullying. The book is a searing, raw exposé of how cruel and abusive people can be even at a young age in school. On the other hand, it also shows that there are generous, compassionate and open-minded souls out there. In his book, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4le_uWX7YE">Prabal Gurung</a> calls out those who tormented and tried to hold him back (some of their names have been altered). The moral of his story is: resist, never stop believing in yourself, do not let others define you, never lose sight of your dream, and help those who have been kept out. “Walk like a girl” was a slur used by bullies back in school in Nepal and India for Gurung’s effeminate ways. He fought back then, and he is still resisting by turning those words into something to be proud of.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170544_4ffc9c3f565dd2cfa754d10b224816897b82bb31ebaee91b6d79d469fc96f14e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250519170544_4ffc9c3f565dd2cfa754d10b224816897b82bb31ebaee91b6d79d469fc96f14e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1253" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung NT"> <figcaption>Prabal Gurung at home in Kathmandu in the 1990s.</figcaption> </figure>  “Living through it all was one thing, but writing about it is one of the hardest things I have done in my life,” admitted Gurung during the launch. “I broke down constantly during the six-year writing process.” He continues: “I did not want this to be a victim’s book. I did not want to burden my readers with my emotions. I wanted my struggle to be an inspiration for others facing what I faced. I am grateful to those who bullied me in school, they made me a stronger person ready to face the world.” Indeed, this book is a departure from his earlier one titled simply, Prabal Gurung (Abrams, 2019), which was a lush pictorial autobiography of his career in fashion. Walk Like a Girl is not a typical fashion book, it is an intimate tale of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16997">Gurung’s travails and triumphs</a>, and how he willed himself to succeed. Prabal pays a lavish tribute to his mother Durga Rana. We find out she is a descendant of the first wife of the eldest son of Jang Bahadur Rana who was banished to Palpa in the late 19th century. Prabal’s father served in the Singapore Police and that is where he was born before the family returned to Nepal when he was four. Gurung relates with brutal honesty about the violence his mother endured from his father. Durga raises three children as a single mother in Nepal, and Prabal credits her for his fierce determination to resist patriarchy and injustice, which in time manifests itself in his hyper-feminine and subversive dress designs. Writing the book has been a cathartic experience for Gurung, who says he is now relieved of the burdens of his past. It no longer haunts him, and he does not have to prove anything to anyone anymore. Walk Like a Girl has life lessons not just for the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/DJmOcSgxdWz/" target="_blank">fashion industry</a>, but for every other profession. How can my job serve a greater cause? Gurung tells us his work is <a href="https://asiasociety.org/blog/asia/why-designer-prabal-gurung-doesnt-want-just-stick-fashion" target="_blank">bigger than just making clothes</a>, it is about making the world a better place because it could do with a lot of improvement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170544_d75296ad8bfdc00d88935f40d23543c6fea3d4d6a10e61a99d6cfc6127f2ee5b.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250519170544_d75296ad8bfdc00d88935f40d23543c6fea3d4d6a10e61a99d6cfc6127f2ee5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1516" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung"> </figure>  This story of chasing the American dream may sound familiar to many immigrants: knocking on doors for jobs, rejections, trying to survive from day to day on expensive rent, and dealing with subtle racism in white America. Gurung finds racism is rife, and he is often mockingly called ‘gaysian’. He writes: ‘There was a strong hypocrisy — this idea of independence felt like a marketting ruse … and for all the talk of feminism in America, these high society women were trapped by the patriarchy just like in Nepal and India.’ After a trek to the Khumbu region in 2013, Gurung is inspired to use the colours, palette and textures of Nepal for his collection exhibited on Manhattan’s 8th Avenue. A major buyer tells him bluntly: “Stick to making pretty dresses … if I need to see a collection like this, I could buy a copy of National Geographic.” The New York Times was equally dismissive: ‘The designer tries to draw connections between blistered techo-fabric used to construct it and the topography of his homeland, Nepal. But, at the moment, he has lost his map.’ One potential investor tells Gurung he cannot design for Americana because “you do not look American”. Gurung wants to use expletives, but restrains himself. After a fundraiser in New York for the Nepal earthquake in 2015, some belittled his effort, saying: “Here comes the saviour."&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/prabal-gurung-by-prabal-gurung">Prabal Gurung by Prabal Gurung</a>, Kunda Dixit The Gurkha DNA must be dominant in Prabal Gurung’s genes because he does not take such mistreatment lying down. When asked by a fashion publicist why he was designing clothes for fat people, he snaps back: “Because of people like you.” He joins the Black Lives Matter and #MeToo movements, launches the Shikshya Foundation charity in Nepal, and has powerful allies among celebrities who wear clothes he designed: Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Sara Jessica Parker, Kamala Harris, Deepika Padukone … it is a long list.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519150556_48a5f4211991a23fa85b64bbd5377575ca7081d97309d7542035591dda5180fe.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250519150556_48a5f4211991a23fa85b64bbd5377575ca7081d97309d7542035591dda5180fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1114" height="1534" loading="lazy" alt="Being Prabal Gurung by design"> <figcaption>Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie wearing Atelier Prabal Gurung’s design for Met Gala 2025 in which the theme was ‘Superfine: Tailoring Black Style’. </figcaption> </figure>  “I don’t dress women to look beautiful, they already are,” Gurung says. “I try to bring out their innate strength and grace.” <a href="https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/17908766880140171/" target="_blank">Admirers</a> tell Gurung he makes it all look so easy, but he used to put up a strong facade to not show his own vulnerabilities in public. “I was closed because of my childhood experiences,” he says. “I was always on guard to defend myself because I never knew where the next punch would come from.” But in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPVepzPA210" target="_blank">Walk Like a Girl,</a> Gurung comes to terms with his vulnerability, and bares his soul. It has not been easy, it took sustained will power and support from his mother, sister Kumudini and a circle of close friends. “I made unbelonging my power,” he says. “Nepal is where I still have my heart and soul. Nepal grounds you. It is where people go to find themselves. But I escaped.” Recently appointed vice-chair of the <a href="https://cfda.com/about-cfda" target="_blank">Council of American Fashion Designers</a>, Gurung says: “I can’t believe I am here, it feels like it is happening to someone else. Writing this book, the healing has finally begun.” <h2>‘Everything is better in color’</h2> The Met Gala was two weeks later, and my table was an example of everything I’d been fighting for all these years as my guests represented everything I believed in: dynamic, powerful, influential women who were unapologetically original and unabashedly graceful. I was grateful to Anna for inviting me to host and dress a table that reflected my ethos—and for her guidance in doing so. I was also aware of the privilege as one of the first-­ever Asian fashion designers—not just from Nepal, but from the entire continent— to get the opportunity to do so. That fact was not lost on me. I reached out beyond the expected Hollywood celebrities and well-­known socialites to curate a table of exceptional women who inspired me. I invited Deepika Padukone and Alia Bhatt for their first-­ever Met Galas, as well as Michelle Yeoh, Mindy Kaling, Camila Cabello, Ashley Park, Denée Benton, KiKi Layne, Quannah Chasinghorse, and Grace Elizabeth. Together we checked many boxes: Asian, Black, Latinx, and Indigenous, each woman undeniably chic and powerful, a dazzling array of skin tones and experiences that proved my decades‑in‑the-­making hypothesis: everything is better in color. Excerpt from Walk Like a Girl Viking © 2025 by Prabal Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170520_6b91d560e9f072c37d16876901058c073a51ffa05e7ad1b9461d19e1c9c28215.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250519170520_6b91d560e9f072c37d16876901058c073a51ffa05e7ad1b9461d19e1c9c28215" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung book details NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170520_345240c21be400e2ce2ec629b52bd82bb53890e5bd86fe95b48340d84b5f1748.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250519170520_345240c21be400e2ce2ec629b52bd82bb53890e5bd86fe95b48340d84b5f1748" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung book details NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;

maternal-health