- On 20 December 2016, 45-year old Dammara Upadhya of Achham’s Timilsain village suffocated to death from a fire to keep away the cold in a windowless shed where she was banished during menstruation. - That same day in the same district, Roshni Tiruwa, 15, of Gajara village died of asphyxiation in a menstrual hut, called 'chhau.' &nbsp; &nbsp;- On 11 January 2018, Gauri Budha of Turmakhad of Achham died of suffocation in a chhau shed.&nbsp; - On 10 June 2018, 22-year old Parvati Buda died of a snakebite in a chhau shed - Amba Bohara, 35, along with her young sons Suresh and Ramit, died on 18 June 2018 when their chhau shed burned down in Agaupani village of Bajura. - Parvati Buda Raut, 22, died of asphyxiation inside a menstrual hut on 1 December 2019. Police arrested her brother-in-law for forcing her into the shed, and the court sentenced him to 45 days in prison. After that tragic death of Parvati Buda Raut, national outrage forced the Home Ministry in Kathmandu to launch a menstrual hut demolition drive across the Karnali and Sudurpaschim provinces.&nbsp; The Ministry directed the 19 districts in the two provinces to search-and-destroy all sheds used for menstrual banishment. Over 10,000 huts were reportedly razed, most of them in Achham, and 100 local governments declared themselves ‘Chhau Free’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240926100940_e9f5b6b3a20ac656082579b559ae314858dea12fdcec6916e70b253c7a5b3006.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240926100940_e9f5b6b3a20ac656082579b559ae314858dea12fdcec6916e70b253c7a5b3006" data-rendition-name="original" width="8160" height="4592" loading="lazy" alt="Banning banishment is not enough"> <figcaption>Chhau hut torn down by local government. </figcaption> </figure>  However, after the pandemic many sheds have been rebuilt by locals who believe that women are unclean during menstruation, and keeping them at home will invite divine wrath with failed harvests, illness and livestock deaths. Tuli Saud, 40, lives in the Selpakha village of Achham and has been spending her periods inside a chhau hut for decades. Now, she has two daughters and two daughters-in-law, all of whom stay in the same shed in her backyard for five days every month during their menstruation. The small shed is windowless. The mud floor is constantly damp during monsoon and covered in straw. When they get their periods at the same time, which happens often, Tuli and the other women in the family have to share the cramped, dark space. During the district-wide campaign to demolish sheds in Achham, Tuli’s menstrual hut was also torn down. She even helped destroy other huts in her village. But the practice of chhaupadi, and the stigma around menstruation has been harder to destroy than &nbsp;huts. When Tuli had her periods, she spent five days in a tent where the old hut used to be. Eventually, the family built another mud and thatch shed because the tent was uncomfortable. Tuli fears that no one in the family will come into the house or eat what she cooks if she does not banish herself to the hut. Indeed, peer pressure to conform comes not just from society at large but from elder women in the village who believe the superstition about menstrual impurity. “If the rest of the women in the village stop going to chhau sheds, I am ready to do the same,” says Tuli. “I cannot wait for my menopause.” Tuli Saud’s neighbour Deusari Auji, 40, also rebuilt her shed and spends her periods there. She lived in the hut for weeks at a time after the birth of each of her five children. Mothers who have just given birth are also banished to these huts.&nbsp; “This is our custom, it will anger the goddess Kali in the nearby temple if we stop practicing it,” says Auji with conviction.&nbsp; Deusari shares the tiny shed with her mother and sister-in-laws when they get their periods at the same time. “It is difficult to breathe and sleep,” she admits. “But we have to endure that hardship.”&nbsp; Many deaths have occurred due to asphyxiation because the women light fires in the confined windowless spaces during bitterly cold winters in the mountains.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240926100940_e2717a357435e98375be6a9b6526cbd8449ca956755e74460dae7df6920c433b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240926100940_e2717a357435e98375be6a9b6526cbd8449ca956755e74460dae7df6920c433b" data-rendition-name="original" width="6112" height="6112" loading="lazy" alt="Banning banishment is not enough"> <figcaption>Inside a chhau hut.</figcaption> </figure>  Ram Bahadur Saud’s wife and daughter started spending their periods inside their home after the family chhau hut was demolished four years ago. But his family was ostracised by villagers, so he rebuilt the demolished hut. Nisha Nepali, 14, of nearby Kamalbazar has learnt about reproductive health at school and the risks of spending her periods in a hut. Yet, she is banished to the shed by her family for five days every month during her periods, when she cannot attend school.&nbsp; “I cannot even do my homework because there is no light in the hut,” says Nisha, who grew up in India before her family moved back to Nepal. Local schoolteacher Srijan Dhakal Kunwar explains that women continue to banish themselves to menstruation huts because they firmly believe that they cannot offend the deities in nearby temples. &nbsp; Khadga KC in the Achham district capital of Mangalsen angrily made a new hut for his two daughters-in-law after the old one was demolished by the government.&nbsp; KC is a shaman and believes that ill-health will befall those who touch a woman during her periods, and attributes his own chronic illness to having once being touched by a menstruating woman. “I do not care what anyone says, the chhau hut in my house is here to stay,” he states. “Why should I listen to what other people have to say instead of listening to my god?” Even locally elected officials like female ward member of Chaurpati village Basanti Saud spend their periods inside the family shed, and actually believe that things are better than before. Saud tells us why: “The sheds used to be far away before ours was demolished, but that is not the case anymore. Every family now has their own hut.” Achham’s Chief District Officer Shiva Prasad Lamsal admits that laws and demolition drives will not be enough to change deeply held beliefs. His office is therefore concentrating on raising awareness against the superstition. Accham police chief Ishwari Prasad Bhandari agrees community support is needed to restart the demolition of huts so they are not rebuilt.&nbsp; Activists point out that even if they are not banished to huts, many women across Nepal suffer ostracisation and stigma in one form or other, even in educated families. Menstrual discrimination is not only a crime, but also a serious health risk to women. Nutritionist Aruna Upreti says forcing girls and women to live in cowsheds after childbirth or during their periods makes them prone to accidents, infections and undernourishment at a time when they need a balanced diet. Entrenched cultural beliefs are hard to eradicate, and provincial and local governments are also reluctant to push for radical reform because of societal backlash. The region where oppressive menstrual discrimination is most prevalent is in the constituencies of powerful politicians like Sher Bahadur Deuba, who has become Nepal’s prime minister five times. Radha Paudel, a dignified menstruation activist, agrees that local governments must mobilise to end the practice (below).&nbsp; “Menstrual discrimination is like caste discrimination, and besides laws it must be a dedicated part of school curricula,” says Paudel. “Our pad distribution campaigns try to convince women that banishment to menstrual huts is a dangerous superstition.” &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Raped in the hut</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240926100916_306720c02f1663dfe99f062a5e83f456902e6222d18a6442ebca12f47a8a1bae.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240926100916_306720c02f1663dfe99f062a5e83f456902e6222d18a6442ebca12f47a8a1bae" data-rendition-name="original" width="6112" height="6112" loading="lazy" alt="Banning banishment is not enough"> </figure>  Of the 16 women in Sudurpaschim Province who were killed in the last 17 years in menstrual huts, 14 died in Achham district. Aside from fatalities from asphyxiation or snakebites, menstrauting women have also been victims of rape and molestation. In June, a young girl in Achham was raped by a relative as she slept inside the shed to which she was evicted during her periods. Neighbours found her unconscious and took her to the District Hospital in Mangalsen.&nbsp; A police complaint was filed, but that was 19 days after the assault. The Grade nine girl had been raised with her brother by their maternal grandmother after their mother died, and her father remarried.&nbsp; “He began to follow me six months ago, and had on one occasion come into my house when I was alone and forced himself on me,” the girl told us in a recent interview. The police have demolished the shed where the rape took place, and the case is pending in court.&nbsp; <h2>The Law</h2> Chhaupadi was banned in 2005 by Nepal’s Supreme Court, and three years later the Ministry of Women, Child and Social Welfare set guidelines to banish the practice. Sub-section 3 of section 168 of the National penal Code 2017 stipulates that ‘Banishing a woman to a shed (chhaupadi) during menstruation or delivery, or subjecting, causing to be subjected, her to similar other discrimination, untouchability or inhumane treatment of any kind is prohibited.’ Anyone who commits such an offence is liable to a three-month prison sentence, a Rs3,000 fine, or both. This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>  &nbsp;

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Banning banishment is not enough

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b708a9c7e80680e060082jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/>It is easy to be cynical about recent reports of actions taken to end <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/blood-sisters-menstruation,839" target="_blank" rel="noopener">chhaupadi</a>, the traditional practice in parts of western Nepal of segregating menstruating women.Since December, hundreds of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-superwomen-beat-superstition/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">chhau sheds</a> where women live during their periods have been demolished after the Home Ministry ordered district officials to strictly enforce laws that bar the practice. Local officials have warned they will withhold social security payments to anyone found to be involved in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/removing-menstrual-shame,4148" target="_blank" rel="noopener">practice of menstrual banishment</a>.We have heard such threats from officialdom before, and many of the recently dismantled sheds were likely previously broken and rebuilt. But something does feel different now about the campaign to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-speaking-out-against-chaupadi,3518" target="_blank" rel="noopener">end the practice</a> that has killed more than a dozen women and girls in the past decade, most of them from exposure to cold, a snakebite or suffocation from fires to warm the windowless sheds in winter.Is this a tipping point? Could be. More positive news comes from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nyaya Health Nepal</a>, the NGO that runs Bayalpata Hospital in Achham. It has 58 community health workers (CHWs), who are the hospital’s link to residents in the facility’s catchment area. Of them, 29 have not practised chhaupadi since working with Bayalpata and, according to the hospital, of the remaining 29, 25 have given up the practice since they started working there.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-superwomen-beat-superstition/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's superwomen beat superstition</a>, Aruna Uprety<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-speaking-out-against-chaupadi,3518" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Periods of banishment</a>, Subeksha Poudel<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b708d9c7e80680e060083jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2715" height="1891"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Initial interventions were done as sporadic informal discussions with CHWS, says Aradhana Thapa, healthcare design director at the hospital. They were followed by regular discussions in 2017, and then by interventions in 2018-19.“We started with baby steps, to understand the issue and help provide a safe platform for CHWs to openly discuss and support each other. Last year we added a few more interventions, including social mapping and reaching more <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-curse-of-being-new-mothers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">pregnant women</a>,” added Thapa in an email interview.The mapping found that 66% of the 14,000 women of reproductive age in the hospital’s catchment area practise chhaupadi, compared to 50% of the CHWs before Bayalpata’s intervention. CHWs are required to have at least Grade 10 education, which is far above the district average, so does that higher level of education not explain the hospital’s success in helping CHWs give up sheds?Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">That time of the month</a>, Editorial“Education, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/communicating-to-remove-menstrual-taboo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">understanding of menstruation</a> as a biological phenomenon universal to the general population, is allowing this change (in attitude about chhaupadi) to take place,” says Thapa. “However, there needs to be a trigger for that final decision. For many CHWs, that point was that they wanted to give up the practice themselves before preaching to other women.”Many activists say that chhaupadi is just the most extreme form of the menstrual segregation that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">occurs throughout Nepal among women of all socio-economic groups</a>, in rural and urban areas.In December, Parbati Raut of Achham became the last reported victim of the practice. But for the first time, an arrest was made over the death – of the woman’s brother-in-law Chhatra Raut, for banishing her to the shed. Unofficial reports from Achham say that he is out on bail, punished only with having to report to police twice monthly for three months.A 2005 Supreme Court decision outlawed chhaupadi, and a 2017 national law made forcing a woman to use a shed punishable by up to 3 months in jail or a fine of Rs3,000. Yet, these changes, along with various local regulations that punish the practice or reward women who reject it, have failed to end it.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/menstruation-is-not-private-business-it-is-everyones-business/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">"Menstruation is not a private business, it's everyone's business"</a>, Reeti KCIn one ward in Achham senior citizens’ allowances were reduced as punishment. It was effective because older family members have the strongest ties to beliefs that underlie chhaupadi, such as that not going to the shed once a month will anger gods and result in sickness, or worse, in a village.CHWs have leveraged such local initiatives in order to give up the practice, particularly campaigns to destroy huts that are led by women. “It is the fact that these are led by local women that makes them so effective. I think it's peer influence, pressure, that's playing its part,” says Thapa.For other CHWs, the decision was driven by practical considerations -- absence of caretakers for their children, in cases where the women do not live with their in-laws and their husbands had to be away for work. Says Thapa: “They ended up sitting at home to ensure care for their children.”

Marty Logan

Tipping point on menstrual banishment in Nepal

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

Nepal goes in and out of T20

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

How I got my NRN Citizenship in Nepal

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

Essays on self-realisation and self-healing

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

menstrual-blood

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Nepal goes in and out of T20

How I got my NRN Citizenship in Nepal

Essays on self-realisation and self-healing

Epicentre of hunger