<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110915110/636bb2789c7e80680e07bae4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="930" height="620"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Period stigma has long blighted the lives of young women and girls in Nepal, but the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ensuring-menstrual-hygiene-during-nepal-lockdown/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ensuring-menstrual-hygiene-during-nepal-lockdown/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFRijVaIWllHBMsdGej-K1GWY9sUw">pandemic is making things worse</a>. If action isn’t taken to help girls menstruate safely, hygienically, and with dignity, Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-superwomen-beat-superstition/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-superwomen-beat-superstition/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGthfvaonsA70ekl3khwSP5i87ZrA">gradual progress in tackling taboos</a> and stigma around menstruation risks being undone.Families are spending long days, weeks, months indoors, and the continued lockdown is reinforcing harmful practices and stigma around menstruation. We have all come to realise the importance of routine hand-washing, but hygiene does not stop there. Menstruation does not stop during a pandemic, nor does the intense stigma associated with it in Nepal.Even without the pressures of the lockdown, many girls and women in poor, rural parts of Nepal simply do not have access to clean running water and soap. They also do not have menstruation pads, and even when they do many find themselves <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGkUXe1S5cwSBXCUsDHIGPMJFT67w">facing stigma in the household</a>, making their day-to-day lives all the more difficult.In communities where our Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO) works, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/tipping-point-on-menstrual-banishment-in-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/tipping-point-on-menstrual-banishment-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFwh8i-WtKzK-Z0JIQog2-ixKuTOw">chhaupadi</a> still persists despite the government’s ban on so-called <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/their-songs-from-the-forest/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/their-songs-from-the-forest/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEa0nTiimV03Cl0KYM5qIyPLMx5Vw">‘period huts’</a>, and a three-month prison sentence and fine for  forcing girls to menstruate in huts. But some are still sent to caves and other locations which put them at risk.To remain ‘clean’, girls are forbidden to touch communal objects in the household. Menstruation untouchability is still practiced and promoted, and even the Nepali word <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/menstruation-is-not-private-business-it-is-everyones-business/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/menstruation-is-not-private-business-it-is-everyones-business/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE4ZcZ-SxFHOZnulUF2iMVhGjGCLA">nachhuni</a> literally means ‘untouchable’.Women and girls are separated and not allowed to touch and enter kitchen and prayer room. They cannot touch male members of the household, and there is much mental pressure by the family and community members to maintain untouchability norms and practices. Failure to abide by them sometimes leads to ostracisation.At the individual level, it is a painful experience and there are long-term psychological effects of period stigma on girls’ self-esteem, especially among trans and disabled women and girls who face double marginalisation. Some of these women make up our frontline healthcare workers during the time of Covid-19, leading to increased anxiety during the lockdown.Added to all this, the economic crisis is leaving young women and girls unable to afford menstruation products, particularly as prices for sanitary pads have spiked.Last year, the government committed to providing every girl with sanitary pads to help them  continue to go to school in a dignified way and succeed in studies. This year, we reached many girls with the products, helping them stay in school and realise their dreams.This year the government has also allocated funding to provide sanitary pad distribution to schoolgirls. But with schools closed across Nepal for nearly six months now, the goal of reaching every schoolgirl with sanitary pads has been badly interrupted. We are now hearing that girls are resorting to makeshift solutions, risking infection and complications.The pandemic has disrupted every facet of life, but the fight to realise women’s rights to menstruate safely and with dignity must continue. Under the lockdown, VSO is providing hygiene kits to some 4,000 girls across rural Nepal, especially in areas where menstruation taboos and stigma persist.The kits include soap, chlorine wash, underwear and a hygiene kit bag. Prior to the lockdown, VSO also trained over 2,000 young women and girls across four districts to make reusable sanitary pads, a skill which many have put to good use under lockdown.The <a href="https://www.wsscc.org/media/resources/government-nepal-calls-dignified-menstrual-hygiene-management" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.wsscc.org/media/resources/government-nepal-calls-dignified-menstrual-hygiene-management&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHLw7xJvPvYa4obERECweTvlx_SxA">Menstrual Hygiene Management (MHMPA) Alliance Nepal</a> is a national network supporting over 80 initiatives to tackle period stigma in the country which works to shape policy and campaign for change. Its activities are constrained under the lockdown, but the mission to end period stigma across Nepal will not stop.The Nepal government has shown its commitment to end period stigma and other forms of gender inequality. While we fight Covid-19 together, we must also use this moment to ensure the promises we have made to young girls are kept throughout the pandemic and beyond.With the virus continuing to spread in Nepal and schools not opening any time soon, we are calling on national and local governments to honour their original commitment and ensure girls receive free menstrual products even when they are not in school.We have come a long way in improving the rights of women and girls in Nepal, legislating for increased participation of women in politics, while improving their rights in the home. Tackling period stigma is a fundamental part of moving towards a more equal society, and overcoming the barriers women face in public life.We can be <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-superwomen-beat-superstition/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-superwomen-beat-superstition/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGthfvaonsA70ekl3khwSP5i87ZrA">proud of the progress we have made</a> in challenging harmful practices like chhaupadi – and by working together as communities, civil society and government we can make sure that the pandemic does not hinder, or even reverse, our progress.We must use this moment to leverage the partnerships we have built in recent years between civil society and government to ensure that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/communicating-to-remove-menstrual-taboo/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/communicating-to-remove-menstrual-taboo/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1599021346631000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGZh3CqDbtQwCnrdB1XdP0dbuVDag">women and girls are not left behind</a> today, and can thrive when the pandemic eventually ends.Geeta Pradhan is the global lead gender adviser at Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO). She has worked in the Asia-Pacific and Africa.

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Pandemic deepens period poverty

<figure><img width="931" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba68f9c7e80680e07372djpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: VSO</figcaption></figure>Despite <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-valley-back-to-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">restrictions on gatherings</a>,  women across Nepal mark Tij this week, the festival of women, on Friday. Increasingly, Tij songs are less about lamenting gender justice and more about striving for equality.One manifestation of entrenched patriarchy in Nepal is menstrual taboo, an extreme form of which is chhaupadi, the practice in parts of Nepal of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-speaking-out-against-chaupadi,3518" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">monthly banishment</a> of women to an outhouse during their periods.In a country where period stigma is still prevalent young women, adolescent girls are facing extra barriers under lockdown to maintain their period in a safe and dignified way.During the pandemic girls are mostly confined to the household, and during their periods are forbidden to touch communal objects in the household. Added to this, the economic crisis hitting these communities is leaving young women and girls unable to afford period products.Under a unique <a href="https://www.vsointernational.org/our-work/inclusive-education/system-strengthening/sisters-for-sisters" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.vsointernational.org/our-work/inclusive-education/system-strengthening/sisters-for-sisters&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1597908281944000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE0R0d69AjenpkQ1LnCoIEncENunQ">Sisters for Sisters' Education</a> started by the UK-based VSO (Volunteer Service Overseas), big girls in rural Nepal who were already mentoring younger ones have stepped in during the lockdown to guide them about using and accessing period products.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=21465&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s superwomen beat superstition</a>, Aruna Upreti <figure><img width="932" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6919c7e80680e07372ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Muni Kumari Gupta is a ‘Big Sister’ who has been mentoring 11 little sisters in her community in a village in Parsa, the district in Nepal hardest hit by the Covid-19 pandemic. “These days we are all living in a fear of the coronavirus,” Muni Kumari says, “ever since the first case was found in our village, there has been more fear.”</figcaption></figure>Muni Kumari Gupta is a ‘Big Sister’ who has been mentoring 11 little sisters in her community in a village in Parsa, the district in Nepal hardest hit by the Covid-19 pandemic.“These days we are all living in a fear of the coronavirus,” Muni Kumari says, “ever since the first case was found in our village, there has been more fear.”Because the lockdown has been re-imposed in Parsa, Muni Kumari keeps in touch with her little ‘sisters’ through the mobile phone telling them to wear masks, maintain distance and keep elderly relatives safe.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/communicating-to-remove-menstrual-taboo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Communicating to remote menstrual taboo</a>, Sewa BhattaraiWhen the lockdown eased for a few weeks in July, she visited the homes of her ‘sisters’ to coach them in school lessons. Most schools in Parsa had been converted into quarantine centres for returnees from abroad, and had been closed.Muni Kumari herself takes classes through the radio and joins her ‘sisters’ to learn English through the remote radio classes.“It has been very difficult to communicate properly with girls and their families. I was allowed to visit a few families near my home so that I could teach them how to wash hands and use a face mask properly,” says Muni Kumari, who had been trained in making reusable sanitary pads, and she shares this skill with family members and girls in the community.“During the lockdown, we were unable to buy sanitary pads at the shops. Therefore, the skills helped us to make our pads at home,” she adds.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/pad-power-nepal,4147">Pad Power</a>, Ziyu LinAnjali Patel is now in Grade 10, and is thankful that she has her ‘Big Sister’, Muni Kumari Gupta to help her navigate the dangers of the pandemic, the shortages of everything during the lockdown, and setbacks to education because of the closure of schools.“My Big Sister is the closest person I can share my problems with,” says Anjali, “she lives nearby and is always available to guide us and the other small sisters. She helps me with my studies, and tells me how to stay safe during the pandemic.”When Anjali was 10, her parents made her do household chores so she missed school a lot. Her parents also did not find school to be that important for a girl child. It was Muni Kumari who convinced her parents that Anjali should get an education.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/removing-menstrual-shame,4148" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Removing menstrual shame</a>, Clara Hare-Grogg <img width="933" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6949c7e80680e07372fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="931" height="619" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6969c7e80680e073730jpeg.jpg" alt="">Anjali Patel is at home listening to a remote classroom on the radio, and helping her nephews with school lessons.After the lockdown started in March, Anjali found it difficult because she could not meet her mentor face-to-face. But Muni Kumari called her on the phone and gave her confidence, instructing her how to protect herself and the family against the virus.The Sister for Sisters program is supported by UK Aid through VSO and has distributed sanitary hygiene packs to nearly 1,200 families in Surkhet, Lamjung, Dhading and Parsa districts of Nepal. The kits include soap, towel, toothbrush, reusable sanitary pad, underwear, nail cutter, hygiene kit bag and liquid chlorine. The project is implemented by Global Action Nepal and Aasaman Nepal. Nitu Gupta is also a ‘Big Sister’ for 13 smaller girls in an adjoining village in Parsa district. As elsewhere in Nepal, the young girls cannot go to school, their families are in a precarious economic situation, and there is the need to protect themselves from the spread of the coronavirus.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">That time of the month</a>, EditorialNitu was already helping to educate her 13 ‘sisters’ before the lockdown, and she has been carrying on that work to make up for the closure of schools.  “During the lockdown, our economic situation became much more difficult, and the girls were mentally affected because there have been suicides in the community,” Nitu says.Sisters for Sisters helped girls like Nitu with remote training through radio to stay safe during the pandemic. She kept in touch with the girls under her care, teaching them to wash hands frequently. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/menstruation-is-not-private-business-it-is-everyones-business/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">“Menstruation is not a private business, it’s everyone’s business”</a>, Reeti KC <figure><img width="932" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6999c7e80680e073731jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Nitu Gupta is another mentor in the Sister for Sisters project, raising awareness about Covid-19 and supporting the education of girls who are out of school in Bahubari of Parsa district. Here she is handing over a hygiene kit to the mother of one of her little 'sisters'.</figcaption></figure>She adds, “The most challenging has been the lack of access to reading materials and menstrual products during the lockdown. But we have been able to provide the families with hygiene kits. This has helped the girls stay clean and comfortable.” Joya Parvin,18, is also a ‘Big Sister’ with 13 younger girls under her charge, but during the lockdown she has only been able to keep in touch with four of them who live nearby. She says the biggest challenge for the girls in her group is accessing menstrual products, soap and sanitser and masks.When she first became a ‘Big Sister’ her main role was to convince parents from her Muslim community to send their daughters to school. But now that schools are closed, he mentoring is different – to make sure the girls keep up with their studies through radio, and have the necessary support to maintain hygience and stay safe.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/blood-sisters-menstruation,839" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Blood sisters</a>, Sangita Thebe-Limbu <figure><img width="930" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba69b9c7e80680e073732jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Joya Pravin showing the little 'sisters' under the charge how to make their own sanitary napkins.</figcaption></figure>One of the little ‘sisters’ in the group that Joya mentors is Rami Khatun, and she says she was seized with panic when Parsa became a coronavirus hotspot in July. “But she gave us tips on how to stay safe, and when the shops ran out of sanitary pads, Joya taught us how to make our own,” says Rami.Rami spends her lockdown days at home helping with chores, and taking care of her nephews. Even though the schools are closed, Joya used to visit when the lockdown was eased. But now that are restrictions of movement, she calls frequently and Rami listens to the radio program to improve her English.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/tipping-point-on-menstrual-banishment-in-nepal/">Tipping point on menstrual banishment in Nepal</a>, Marty Logan

Ensuring menstrual hygiene during Nepal lockdown

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The debate about who is less accountable to the public: politicians or bureaucrats is as old as Nepal’s democracy itself.
Some blame politicians for being beholden to the businessmen who finance their electoral campaigns, and are forced to return the favour with contracts and kickbacks when in power.&nbsp;
Others say it is civil servants who are neither civil nor servants, and know the inner workings of the system to exploit loopholes – they then teach ministers, MPs, mayors, or ward chairs which juicy projects can be squeezed. And everyone gets their share.
In reality, it is probably not a case of either, or. Both have their hands deep in the honey pot. Corruption is now such a given that yet another exposé in the mainstream press, like the latest visit-visa scam, does not raise eyebrows anymore.
We may have to edit Lord Acton’s famous quote to say that in Nepal we do not even need absolute power to corrupt absolutely. The ruling cartel has divvied up the spoils, so that no one ever faces charges. The three parties all know about the skeletons rattling in each other’s closets, and they cancel each other out.
Politicians and bureaucrats get all the blame for taking bribes, but what of the givers of bribes? In this crony capitalism, businesses invariably need political patrons in an elaborate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">national network of give-and-take</a>.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">Politicians and businesses work hand-in-glove</a> so that conflict of interest in contracts, insider trading, cartelling, and non-performing assets of banks become the norm. Our survey after the 2017 local election showed that out of the 753 newly-elected local government chairs, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elected-contractors" target="_blank">nearly 300 were contractors</a> involved in sand-mining, quarrying, or transportation syndicates.
Nepal’s tycoons have discovered that instead of donating to election war chests of politicians, it is a much surer return on investment to spend the money to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-business-of-politics-in-nepal" target="_blank">become legislators and politicians themselves</a>.
In democracies, there are checks and balances to control corruption when it becomes endemic. The Nepal Police and Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) are supposed to do the detective work without political interference. The courts are required to be independent in dispensing justice and punishing crooks.
But the less said about the judiciary the better. A writ petition in the Supreme Court last week accused our sister magazine <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> of contempt of court for two stories: one about how high courts have been overturning a majority of verdicts of district courts in cases of rape, and another about the Biratnagar High Court clearing a self-proclaimed holy man, Krishna Bahadur Giri, of rape despite police presenting physical evidence.
The doctrine of the separation of powers stipulates that it is when the other three pillars in a democracy are compromised that the role of the free press becomes even more vital. The world over, as soon as populist autocrats are elected to the executive, their first order of business is to co-opt the legislature and the judiciary. Then they buy off, intimidate, or neutralise the media with Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPP).
Nepal’s officialdom seems to be taking midnight Zoom lessons from other despots on how to gag the media. Last month, popular talk show host Dil Bhushan Pathak was served an arrest warrant by the Kathmandu District Court for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CntsnTrtG8" target="_blank">a YouTube explainer</a> about the alleged involvement of the son of Foreign Minister Arzu Deuba Rana in a reported purchase of Kathmandu’s Hilton Hotel.
The Lalitpur District Court ruled that Pathak could not be arrested without fair trial, but this week the Kathmandu District Court filed another case against the journalist based on a complaint by the Cyber Bureau, and put him on a fugitive list.&nbsp;
Without going into the veracity of Pathak’s explainer, it is deeply problematic that the Electronic Transaction Act has been invoked – proof that politicians are getting the courts and investigating agencies to make an example of a high profile journalist.&nbsp;
The intention is to silence media investigations into the fake refugee scandal in which the main partner in the ruling coalition is implicated, and in which one of its former home ministers was jailed last year.
The Kathmandu High Court has been mysteriously active in targeting journalists these days. <a href="https://bizmandu.com/" target="_blank">Bizmandu</a> and <a href="https://nepalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">Nepalkhabar</a> were served a notice last month <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-freedom-after-expression-y4inku06" target="_blank">to withdraw a story they did</a> on the Chair of the <a href="https://www.sebon.gov.np/" target="_blank">Security and Exchange Board of Nepal (SEBON</a>) Santosh Narayan Shrestha allegedly demanding kickbacks from hydropower investors.&nbsp;
Incredibly, the court even asked the two portals not to report on the subject anymore – a ruling so absurd that the Patan High Court overturned it a week later.&nbsp;
The allegations against Shrestha were made in a public meeting of the <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Independent Power Producers Association of Nepal (IPPAN)</a>, and MPs demanded a <a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/parliament-demands-probe-into-sebon-chairman-over-alleged-commission-demand-40-32.html" target="_blank">Parliament inquiry</a> into the regulator. <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/144523/santosh-narayan-shrestha" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> reported this week that while Shrestha was reportedly demanding commissions from private investors for IPOs, he cleared primary share sales in Bajhang’s 10.75MW <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Bungal Hydro</a> in which his family members have investments, company records show.
And then just on Monday, bureaucrats hoodwinked MPs by deleting references in a bill requiring a two-year ‘cooling off’ period under which retiring civil servants could be barred from holding constitutional positions for two years.
The contest for who is more corrupt: bureauacrats, politicians, or the private sector is on.
Kunda Dixit

SLAPPing Democracy

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

menstrual-hygiene

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Ensuring menstrual hygiene during Nepal lockdown

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

SLAPPing Democracy

Water for Life

Saving the Kusunda language from extinction