Ayan Dallakoti spent his childhood in Japan, speaking Japanese and for all intents and purposes, considered himself Japanese. It was only as he grew older that he realised he was actually from Nepal. &nbsp; Ayan was eight years old when his mother Pratibha brought him and his younger brother Avan back to Nepal. Their father Anjay, who is still in Japan, had decided to send the boys home so they could “become Nepali”. Ayan was somewhat familiar with the Nepali language and the country, but in Kathmandu, everything felt foreign, including the education system. “Things were a little easier when he had a classmate who had also returned from Japan, but making Nepali friends did not come easily for them,” remembers Pratibha.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040928_c4a683bc4723ce1f5b5683d41add972c915ea6b6fc229a44b713c707381d8787.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240922040928_c4a683bc4723ce1f5b5683d41add972c915ea6b6fc229a44b713c707381d8787" data-rendition-name="original" width="5856" height="3904" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 3"> <figcaption>All photos: GOPEN RAI</figcaption> </figure>  Japan is now a major destination for Nepali families like the Dallakotis. Officially, there are 180,000 Nepalis in Japan and 35,000 more left just in the past year – a 30% increase from the year before that.&nbsp; Japanese embassy figures show that of those who left last year, 23,124 were on student visas, 8,566 were on working visas and 7,849 were dependents. While most of the older generation of Nepalis in Japan are cooks who went as ‘skilled labour’, the new crop of migrants are mostly on student visas, working part-time. For the Japanese government, a student visa is a carefully calibrated temporary migration system to fill the country’s labour shortage in the service sector. Unlike the Gulf, Korea, Malaysia and other countries, Nepalis in Japan can also take along their families. Which is why Nepali schools have sprung up in large cities in Japan. These schools teach Nepali language, culture, and also English. But for families who work far away from those cities, the children have no option but to get a Japanese education.&nbsp; Anjay Dallakoti initially went to Japan as a student, but extended his stay with a working visa. Pratibha joined him a few years later as a dependent. Ayan was born in Japan, and six years later Avan. After 12 years, Pratibha is back in Nepal with both her boys.&nbsp; In many Nepali families in Japan, it is the children who are having to adjust to being caught in between two worlds. Many have to cope with the double adjustment of first arriving in Japan, and then returning to school in Nepal. According to Masako Tanaka, a professor at Tokyo’s Sophia University, nearly 20,000 Nepalis in Japan are minors. Tanaka has been working closely with Nepali migrants in Japan, and says many mothers are bringing their children back to Nepal because of worries that they are losing touch with their identity and culture back home. The other reason is that the children are not learning enough English, and the parents fear they will lose out in later life. &nbsp; “Returning to Nepal and studying in schools here helps create an environment for the children to either stay and work in Nepal in future or go to a third country,” says Sapana Kharel, who also returned to Nepal with her two children. For Nepali families who have not yet got permanent resident status, staying on in Japan and continuing their children’s education is too uncertain. They worry that this could interrupt their children’s education if they have to leave Japan midway through school.&nbsp; “There is fear that the children will neither have a place in Nepali schools nor there in Japan,” adds Kharel. Others say that they would have returned to Nepal for the sake of the children no matter what, even if they got permanent residence in Japan. Indeed, there are Nepali mothers who are already permanent residents who have opted to return with their children.&nbsp; Take the Subedi family who have permanent resident status in Japan, but brought their daughter Shibika to Nepal after she completed Grade 1 in Japan.&nbsp; Many migrant children like Shibika had to repeat grades they had already studied in Japan. She had to repeat Grade 1, and is now in Grade 9. Her mother Nitu Bista Subedi feels that repeating a year was necessary to strengthen her daughter’s foundation in the Nepali curriculum.&nbsp; “Shibika has fond memories of Japan and misses being together with the whole family there, and she worries that her Japanese classmates are getting ahead of her,” says Subedi. Ten-year-old Ahana Odari had her own struggles when she was brought to Nepal by her mother a year ago. She too had to repeat Grade 3. “She just wouldn’t speak for the first few months because of the language problem,” remembers her mother, Balika Odari. “Ahana took a whole year to adapt and adjust to Nepal and its ways. But this was necessary.”&nbsp; Like a lot of parents, Balika feels that although Japan’s education system is one of the best in the world, children there are more reclusive and do not socialise as much. “We were worried our children would turn out the same way, and that is why we decided to bring them back and introduce them to their country and culture,” she explains. In more extreme cases, migration can hinder the psychosocial development of returning children. &nbsp; “Early-age children are good at learning dual or multiple languages, but because of the limited vocabulary they are exposed to, they might not always have words to express how they are feeling. And that is where the problem lies,” says Srijana Adhikari, a clinical psychologist at Happy Minds.&nbsp; “For healthy development, the environment the child grows up in and the needs to be stable,” she adds. “If not, this may lead to problems adjusting, separation anxiety and struggles in building relationships.” Sneha Khatri, now 14, oscillated between Nepal and Japan over the years. She was born in Japan but was brought to Nepal when she was six. She studied here until Grade 3 and then went to the Nepali-run Everest International School in Tokyo.&nbsp; Sneha came back to Nepal a month ago to appear for her Basic Level Examination (BLE) but is worried about her results. She is taking extra tutorials in mathematics.&nbsp; Ayan is now in Grade 7, and is also worried about his BLE next year. He says in Japanese-accented English: “Social Studies is my first hardest subject, and Nepali is the second hardest.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040932_3ddaf6b56253baac855f2b4de4f9a646b1c80a677cc8e9d73d469a3c37496ea7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240922040932_3ddaf6b56253baac855f2b4de4f9a646b1c80a677cc8e9d73d469a3c37496ea7" data-rendition-name="original" width="5477" height="3651" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 4"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040932_3b59646b4c1f30831b039caf8c5e9018fb0ce23349dacebfa0cbee024b4bd885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240922040932_3b59646b4c1f30831b039caf8c5e9018fb0ce23349dacebfa0cbee024b4bd885" data-rendition-name="original" width="5928" height="3808" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 5"> </figure>  Speaking Nepali with family and friends is not hard for the returnee migrant children, but Nepali as an academic subject is difficult.&nbsp; Professor Tanaka says migrant children have fallen through the cracks between Japan and Nepal. She asks rhetorically, “Who will think about the welfare of the migrant children? Who is responsible for them?”&nbsp; Tanaka was in Kathmandu recently for a workshop on Nepali language education for migrant children during which she presented research findings of her Migrant Children Language Education project. Tanaka’s conclusion is that mother tongue Nepali language education is the best way to help the reintegration of children returning from Japan. “The government can start by developing Nepali language learning resources for online or home learners abroad, training teachers abroad, and organising and encouraging events for Nepali children overseas,” Tanaka told Nepali Times.&nbsp; “Nepal can learn from countries like Myanmar, Thailand, Vietnam and Brazil which are working on national language education for their migrant children in Japan.” To be sure, there are also students who are doing well despite the culture shock of moving back and forth between Japan and Nepal.&nbsp; Sapana Kharel’s daughter, Saurya was born in Japan. She came to Nepal when she was six to study in Nepal. Soon after, she went to Japan. She came back when she was 12 to appear for the Nepali BLE. She initially struggled and had low confidence, but soon overcame it and did well. “Now, I’ve realised the importance of learning my mother tongue and have taken up Nepali classes as part of my course,” says Saurya, now 17, in flawless Nepali. But for other migrant children whose parents do not speak enough Nepali when they were in Japan, mastering the mother tongue is still a big hurdle.&nbsp; Ayan’s mother looks at her two children playing at her home in Kirtipur, and says, “The sacrifice we made as a couple, living far from one another, is for our children, their education and for a better future.”&nbsp; <h2>Nepali in Nippon</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040928_bb476f3818df3d28240779b520cb93b2aee216f9a1023e0bbe0fccd3abbcd6f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240922040928_bb476f3818df3d28240779b520cb93b2aee216f9a1023e0bbe0fccd3abbcd6f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT "> </figure>  In June, when the SEE (Secondary Education Examination) results came out, one of the students who passed was a Zambian national student from Japan. He was studying at the Everest International School Japan (EISJ) in Tokyo which follows the Nepali curriculum, and accommodates the need of families in Nepal and other countries in Japan to also learn English. Initially started in 2013 by the Nepali community, this school came under Nepal’s Ministry of Education (MoE) in 2015. EISJ is the only school in Japan that is certified to take Nepal’s SEE in Japan.&nbsp; Other schools that follow the Nepali curriculum have also opened up, over the years. But only two of them, Tokai Batika International School in Nagoya and Himalayan International Academy in Tokyo are certified to conduct Nepali curriculum as per Nepal’s Ministry of Education. But both provide education only below Grade 10.&nbsp; “As of now, the only country to have schools that follow Nepali curriculum is Japan,” says Parshuram Tiwari, director at the Education Review Office at the MoE in Kathmandu. The majority of Nepali families and a few non-Nepali families working in Japan decide to send their children to schools like EISJ because of the English medium. But these are private international schools, unlike the Japanese government schools which are free of cost. And because these schools are not certified, the Japanese government provides no subsidy, no transportation discount among other privileges to these schools, says Professor Masako Tanaka at Sophia University in Tokyo. &nbsp;“Most importantly, graduates of EISJ cannot get visa status independently even after graduation from high school level, while the migrant students who graduate from Japanese schools are eligible.” Many Nepali families enrol their children to such schools without knowing this, adds Tanka. But even those who know about drawbacks want to provide their children with the opportunity to get international exposure with English language skills. Nepali curriculum schools are mostly based in and around Tokyo, and many Nepali families who live in the suburbs of Japan opt to come to Nepal for their children’s education. (Adjoining article) “We lived in Niigata. It would take us six hours to travel to Everest International School in Tokyo. So, we came to Nepal to give our children English medium education,” says Pratibha Dallakoti, who returned from Japan with her two sons in 2020. While schools that follow the Nepali curriculum in Japan have been a relief for Nepali parents who want their children to pursue Nepali curriculum education, these schools getting certified by the Japanese government would be better. “There are several other international schools in Japan that are certified by both Japanese and foreign dual standards like the &nbsp;Kyoto Kokusai School,” wrote Professor Tanaka in an email interview. “It is for the better that these Nepali curriculum schools like EISJ become similar to KKS which makes it easier for the children as they can get a certificate from both the government. ”

Pinki Sris Rana

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Japan-born Nepali children struggle to ‘be Nepali’

Before the road got here to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Nepal’s prime apple growing region</a>, the bumper fruit harvest would rot in the orchards in autumn. Farmers tried to feed apples to livestock, but the cattle were sick of eating it. There were few jobs, a war was going on, and most young men migrated out of this spectacularly scenic but isolated region along the Kali Gandaki River between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri. &nbsp; Saroj Tulachan was one of them. He left his small homestead near Tukuche and walked five days to Pokhara, took a bus to Kathmandu and through contacts got a job as a chef in Japan. “I was just like a coolie there, working in the kitchen, but I learnt a lot about farming techniques in my spare time, and kept dreaming of the day I would return to Nepal with savings in my pocket,” says Tulachan. But it took him 16 long years to come back. &nbsp; But much more important than savings, he came back with a dream. In the beginning, like most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">returnees</a>, he struggled to adjust and find a meaningful job to pay for high living expenses. Then the Covid pandemic hit, and Tulachan fell ill.&nbsp; “I said to myself, why am I staying in the city when my home in the mountains is safe and a heaven on earth?” Tulachan recalls, his face wrinkled in a wide smile.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1313" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> <figcaption>He has combined his apple farm with an eco-tourism resort in the lap of Mt Nilgiri, added a cold store and expanded his orchard.</figcaption> </figure>  Tulachan’s dream was always to return to his native <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">Mustang</a>, Covid just made him bring the plan forward. What he has achieved since coming back is a remarkable example of passion, simple technical innovation and marketing skills transforming rural Nepal in just a few years. Improving on the knowledge about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tara-pariyar-s-karnali">apple farming</a> that he learnt from his father, Tulachan uses a high-density tall spindle farming method to grow apples vertically like vines rather than trees. The system improves productivity through early yield, better fruit quality, and reduced costs for care. Each plant produces more than a much bigger tree of the local Marpha variety, and the fruits fetch a higher price in markets in Pokhara and Kathmandu. In the past year, business has been so successful that Tulachan has expanded from the orchard he inherited from his father to buy and lease more property along the Kali Gandaki floodplain. He is also helping neighbouring farms in Tukuche, Marpha and Jomsom to adopt the new technique. “It does not make sense only for me to do well, the whole community needs to benefit,” says Tulachan. “What is most important is self-fulfillment and happiness, I can’t take my money with me when I die.” And Tulachan is happiest among his apple trees. He is up at the crack of dawn and with his garden shears is off for a morning of pruning, training and grafting apple plants. He has built his own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/access-to-water-changes-the-face-of-rural-nepal">irrigation system</a> channeling water from a nearby stream. Learning from his Japan stay, he has also established a ryokan-style inn called Mustang Eco Hill Resort by the Pokhara-Jomsom highway with a restaurant serving organic produce from his farm, and a gift shop.&nbsp; A new addition to Tulachan’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">eco-tourism</a> and apple orchard venture is a cold storage which evens out the autumn glut after the apple harvest when prices are low, so the fruits fetch a higher price in April-May.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1166" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> </figure>  “If you want to get rich quick, this is not your line of business,” warns Tulachan, walking between neat rows of tall spindle apple stems to check on his drip irrigation system. “You have to be patient, and plan ten years into the future.” His Japanese high density apple variety takes only three years to ripen, compared to 15 years for local trees. Presently, the farm harvests 18 tons of apple every season, and with the new plants in his expanded farm, Tulachan expects 40 tons. The farm makes Rs3.5 million in profit every year, which goes for upkeep, servicing loans and upgrading his inn.&nbsp; Traders now come all the way from Kathmandu to book Tulachan’s apples. His apple varieties sell for Rs400 per kg at Bhatbhateni department stores, more than three times more than the traditional Marpha variety. A flag of Nepal flutters proudly in the afternoon wind on the roof of the Mustang Eco Hill Resort, and Tulachan says Nepalis who stop at his farm marvel that there is a place like this in Nepal. He has set an example that it is possible to run a profitable business and create jobs despite the government. He says: “There is no point blaming the government, we can do a lot by ourselves. If they just scaled up what I have done here to the national level by investing in tourism, agriculture and hydropower, Nepal can also be prosperous.”

Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21479c7e80680e041739jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photos: PHURPA TAMANG</figcaption></figure>Phurpa Tamang in Himal Khabarpatrika, 30 DecemberPhurpa Dindup Tamang, 50, of Thulo Bharkhu of Rasuwa district is a yak-herder by profession. His grandfather Singi Jhankri had a big sheep farm, and his father Dawa Jhankri raised yaks. His other grandfather Tenzin Tamang was known as Tenzin Baru and was wealthy because of his large herd of yaks.Phurpa Dindup also grew up raising yaks, but when he felt it did not pay him enough, he went to Kuwait in 2003 to work for eight years as a security guard. He returned to Nepal and decided to get back into his ancestral profession in his home village, and use the exposure he had got abroad."Other places are not like your own village and country," he says, “it may not be easy to earn money in Nepal, but it is an easier life.”  The government dairy buys yak milk for Rs80 per litre, and Dindup says he can make a comfortable enough living with that.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a214b9c7e80680e04173ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125">Raising yaks maybe difficult for others, but he finds it easy since he learnt it as a child. He does acknowledge that it may be really risky for those who don't know anything about it. Yaks have to be moved according to the seasons. If they are not moved to highland pastures in summer, they dies from the heat.Yak herders need to know which forests have enough water and grass in which months, and which rivers and wetlands are infested with leech. They need to stay away from poisonous plants, and treacherous cliffs and landslides. Yak herders also need to know how to save their animals from snow leopards and wolves, and what medicinal herbs to give them when they fall sick.In olden days, people who raised yaks and sheep were called 'Baru' (rich) because they earned income from selling milk, butter, cheese, churpi, wool, and calves. These days there are fewer yak farms in villages, but the products still fetch good prices."Mountain communities like ours need butter for rituals like birth, death, weddings, so the value of milk has increased because there are fewer yak farms," Dindup adds.Dindup, who now has 32 yaks, never got the opportunity to study, and says one reason he returned to his family yak farm is that he does not have the skills or the capital to start any other business. He received Rs500,000 from the Agriculture Ministry to raise yaks, and now earns Rs 700,000 a year.He is educating his children from his earnings: his eldest daughter passed Grade 10 and got married, his second daughter is in Grade 12, and eldest son passed Grade 10. His wife bought gold earrings last year from those earnings.Says Dindup: "It is good to be back. I can be with my family, and travel to the mountains, in winter I go down to Kerung. In summer I go up to Lauribina Pass. Life could not be better.

No need to migrate for work

Nepal’s Gurkha soldiers have a well-deserved reputation worldwide for uncommon valour and loyalty. However, what happened in Hawaii in 1986 and the long struggle for fair pay and pension shows that the formidable fighters from Nepal also do not tolerate injustice. The Hong Kong-based 1st Battalion of the 7th Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Gurkha Rifles was in Hawaii for jungle warfare training exercises at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center when they beat up their commanding officer, Major Corin Pearce. &nbsp;&nbsp; The Gurkhas said Pearce had insulted them, and 111 soldiers were dismissed. Pearce suffered broken ribs and a head injury, and was himself also discharged. The incident got worldwide publicity and enforced the belief that the Nepalis were not treated fairly in the British Army. It also led some retired soldiers to begin a decades-long struggle for compensation at par with their British peers.&nbsp; Retired British Gurkha soldier Shankar Rai in his book Triumph and Tears revisits the Hawaii incident which he witnessed, and also his experience in the Falkland Islands/Malvinas war in 1982.&nbsp; He has lots of grievances: unequal treatment and injustice from the British Army towards himself and his comrades. This is an indignant and disillusioned account of the good, the bad and the ugly of being a British Gurkha, which he says let him down despite his service and belief in it.&nbsp; The book could also be a cautionary tale of how one person on a power-trip can tarnish two centuries of the shared history of Nepal and the UK, as well as ruin the lives of those involved. It also is proof that loyalty should never be taken for granted. Four years after defeating the Argentinians in the Falklands, several companies and platoons of Gurkha rifles were stationed in Hawaii in 1986 for joint US-UK ‘Exercise Union Pacific’ military exercises. The goal was to ‘perfect the art of marine warfare in collaboration with the US Marine Force’. The rules were that a British Gurkha company commander needed to have the rank of major and pass a Nepali language test. Captain Pearce was the son-in-law of a British Brigadier on extra-regiment employment, and this rule was waived. He was appointed Acting Major. Pearce didn’t bother to learn Nepali language or culture, and from Rai’s account took every chance to belittle and embarrass the Gurkhas as poor, stupid, rude, backward, and lucky to be there. He writes: ‘After Captain Pearce reached Hawaii, he began to project himself as a master and the Gurkhas as servants, to show off to the Americans.’ The author also recounts other slights, such as only receiving a fourth of the rations they were due during hard training, being forced to train even when some of the soldiers had high fever, and claims to have ‘civilised’ the Nepalis.&nbsp; Pearce had been to eastern Nepal before the training and seen the grinding poverty. He kept telling the Gurkhas how lucky they were to be in the job, and that they were making ‘more money than Nepal’s prime minister’. During the final farewell party in Hawaii, Pearce set up tables to form a saluting platform, and asked the Gurkha pipe and drum band to march around him while playing. The enraged soldiers could not take it anymore, and after the party an inebriated group ran Captains Pearce and Chandra Kumar Pradhan out of their tents and beat them up. Both officers broke ribs, and the major needed 15 stitches on his head. ‘This sorry and unseemly episode is considered to have been entirely at odds with the Brigade of Gurkhas’ tradition of loyalty and gallant service in the British Army. It is regarded as an isolated and untypical event, which will not be permitted to detract from the high esteem in which the Brigade is held,’ reads the report of an investigation. Most of the 1/7 company soldiers were dismissed whether they had been involved in the assault or not. The author describes the shame that followed, with dismissed soldiers returning to Nepal with lost face.&nbsp; ‘I burned with humiliation, and life scared me,’ writes the author, whose father told him that he was ashamed to call him his son. ‘Many of my friends’ girlfriends left them and married other people. Rifleman Khem Gurung (21162015) of Itahari committed suicide,’ writes Rai, adding that those dismissed were blacklisted, and could not get other jobs.&nbsp; They tried to pursue legal action against the British Government, but backed down when they could not afford expensive hotshot lawyers, and would not have the money to cover the British government’s legal fees in the likely case of a loss in court. Gurkhas who had served for four years in the UK were allowed to move there, an option that many of those dismissed in the Hawaii incident took, including the author, who now lives in Oxford. Rai pours out his hurt and emotion in the book. Towards the end, he writes: ‘I depend on small jobs for livelihood. In the remaining time, I actively raise the issue of the victims of the Hawaii incident. We are burdened with insults, hatred, and contempt for a lifetime. It was harsher than a court martial, too heavy to bear.’ The is a slim book, and is a quick, engaging read of an incident 30 years ago, and Rai writes with a soldier’s precision. Even though the anger shows even after all these years, there is no over-dramatisation in the narrative.&nbsp; The first part of the book is about sailing across the South Atlantic in the QEII, which had been converted into a troop ship to take the Gurkhas to war. The soldiers from landlocked Nepal were mostly sea-sick, but were happy to get two cans of beer a day. Barclays Bank even had a branch on board. Rai’s descriptions of the friendships he developed in the Company and on the battlefield are poignant. They braved Argentinian bombs, dug trenches and fought through the rain in the Southern Hemisphere winter. There are vignettes of sharing tea with fellow Nepalis, seeing comrades fall, and finding pictures of wives and children in the pockets of dead young Argentine soldiers. Behind the prestige, honour and myths of being a Gurkha soldier, it seems this is just another job with nepotism, horrible bosses and bad pay. But such is the desperation that up to 20,000 young Nepalis still apply for 300 openings in the British Army every year. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Triumph and tears book details NT"> </figure>

Not taking loyalty for granted

After a week of to-and-fro that culminated in all-night bargaining, two populist young figures in Nepali politics agreed at 4AM on Sunday to join forces ahead of elections in March. Rabi Lamichhane of the RSP, who came out of jail a week ago, has forged an alliance with Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah. Both are keen to ride on the GenZ wave that radically changed the direction of Nepal’s politics that has been dominated by three mainstream parties for the past three decades. Under the 7-point deal, Lamichhane will still head the RSP, while Shah has been promised prime ministership if the party wins a majority in the federal elections. Shah will also be the parliamentary party leader. The RSP will keep its name and election symbol. “Agreements must be made not on the basis of what leaders want, but on what the country needs,” Lamichhane wrote on social media announcing the alliance. The RSP chair is said to have put his own prime ministerial aspirations on hold to ensure the Kathmandu Mayor's support for the March polls. This is an alliance of convenience. Lamichhane requires the backing from Shah’s youth voters to face the legacy parties, while the mayor needs a political platform. Ultimately the prospect of leading not just Kathmandu but Nepal itself appears to have been the deciding factor for Balen Shah. The Kathmandu mayor is reportedly keen to contest the election from Jhapa against former prime minister K P Oli in his constituency.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228041212_1b26fd7f14e418a9bdb827a7b733914c08183c36b4a93694fc1aefda9f45d85a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251228041212_1b26fd7f14e418a9bdb827a7b733914c08183c36b4a93694fc1aefda9f45d85a" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Balen-Rabi alliance"> <figcaption>Photo: BALEN SHAH, RABI LAMICHHANE / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  The two have much in common. Lamichhane, a former tv anchor, returned from the United States and launched the RSP as an alternative party four months before elections in 2022. He served as Home Minister twice in Pushpa Kamal Dahal's coalition government before being jailed for defrauding cooperatives depositers. He made a jail break during the September protests, returned to prison voluntarily, and was released on bail last week. Balen Shah stood as an independent candidate for mayor of Kathmandu in local elections in 2022, and was catapulted to victory because of anti-incumbent protest votes among urban youth.&nbsp; Both campaigned on social media, pushing a populist anti-corruption agenda and against the governance failure of the three establishment parties — the same logic that drove the GenZ protests in September that escalated into violence and brought down the UML-NC coalition. Even as government buildings smouldered on 10 September, GenZ members were strongly urging Balen Shah to be the interim prime minister, but when he declined they voted on Discord for former chief justice Sushila Karki.&nbsp; With just over two months to go for elections on 5 March, Prime Minister Karki has been trying desperately to get the mainstream parties on board. She has met twice with the top leaders of the UML, NC and the NCP. All three parties have been dealing with internal power struggles, and the UML appears to be the most reluctant to face elections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228051212_d42944e014b278d6864270b74f924ac842d6f7a68d5bd6817148d120522ba60b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251228051212_d42944e014b278d6864270b74f924ac842d6f7a68d5bd6817148d120522ba60b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki with political leaders"> <figcaption>Prime Minister Sushila Karki has been meeting with leaders of the mainstream parties to get them on board for the election. Photo: PMO</figcaption> </figure>  The UML’s former prime minister K P Oli has refused summons by the Judicial Inquiry Commission charged with investigating the massacre of protesters on 8 September and the arson and vandalism the next day. Then home minister Ramesh Lekhak is scheduled to give his deposition to the Commission this week. The legacy parties appear to be taking the threat from the Rabi-Balen partnership strongly, and have been trying to forge an electoral alliance so they do not compete against each other.&nbsp; They are relying on traditional vote banks among the rural electorate, and calculate that alternative forces will cancel themselves out. They could also be hoping that Balen Shah’s erratic behaviour and Rabi Lamichhane’s prison conviction will put voters off. A total of 837,094 first-time voters have been registered in Nepal ahead of the elections.&nbsp; The Kathmandu mayor is an engineer and rap artist, and had till now been reclusive, preferring to post on social media rather than face the press. His late-night online posts have been impulsive: like the one urging that Singha Darbar be burnt down, or another one recently in which he used the f-word against the US, China, India and the mainstream parties. He later deleted both posts.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228041212_a2f87881e36fb40b82bf77e1b07003aaf36b91e2a9eb5da096f1e562654c31e3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251228041212_a2f87881e36fb40b82bf77e1b07003aaf36b91e2a9eb5da096f1e562654c31e3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1112" height="1440" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Rabi agreement NT"> <figcaption>The seven-point agreement between Shah and Lamichhane. </figcaption> </figure>  Lamichane and Shah had also been negotiating with Energy Minister Kulman Ghising’s newly-forced Ujyalo Nepal Party, but the bargaining did not go well because Ghising refused to fight elections under the RSP banner. If the three had been successful in coming together, it would have been a formidable alliance. There are misgivings about the RSP-Balen Shah deal, even among some GenZ who see the two prominent men dividing up the power structure as just the kind of political culture they wanted to reform. Many are already predicting exactly the kind of clash of egos between the two alpha males that characterised Nepali politics since the restoration of democracy in 1990. In the coming days, as with most political change in Nepal, there will be much speculation about the geopolitics behind the Rabi-Balen deal. Balen Shah’s angry post against India-US-China as well as his past nationalistic pronouncements on Nepal’s territorial dispute with India over Kalapani will be recalled, while Beijing has misgivings about the antecedents of some GenZ figures. Dharan-mayor Harka Sampang, who has also formed his own political party, has already pronounced the Rabi-Balen deal as being “foreign backed”.

Old vs New in Nepal in 2026

Everyone in the world is running some kind of race. Some chase recognition. Some chase money. Others run simply to stay ahead of others. But there are some who run for others. They are not trying to overtake anyone, they do not do it for fame, they are not getting paid to do it. But they run to pay for the upliftment of those less privileged. Bal Joshi, 41, is originally from Surkhet. His father was involved in the democratic movement during the days of absolute monarchy and he remembers frequent police searches of the house. And with his father in hiding, the young Joshi had to take care of the family. When the family’s small shop failed, his mother took the young Bal and his brother back to the village, and that is where he completed his education, walking four hours roundtrip every day between home and school. He ran most of the way, and without realising it he has been running ever since. Life was hard. Rent, food, education. His mother struggled constantly. There were days when there was no money even to buy kerosene for the stove. At one point, he sold his calculator, worth Rs 300, for just Rs 80 to get by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  At 15, Joshi moved to Nepalganj to continue his education. He initially stayed with his uncles, but eventually began living on his own. The transition to city life was difficult, and he experienced significant economic hardship while trying to pursue his studies. There were times when he struggled to meet basic needs, and at one point he sold his calculator just to get by. When he was 17, after hearing that his father was seriously ill, Joshi travelled to Gujarat to bring him back home. His father died soon after, and Joshi took on responsibility for supporting his family. It was his mother who taught him that despite scarcity, life had to be lived with dignity. Joshi started working at a newspaper at the age of 16 as a proofreader, and later became a journalist. During the Maoist war when children were being orphaned as a result of violence by both sides, he became active in the Sahara Group, and at 19, he began managing an orphanage that took in conflict-affected children. In Bajhang, after the army killed a man on suspicion of being a Maoist, his wife jumped into the Seti River and ended her life. Their two children were taken into army custody. During the rescue process, Joshi met Sunaina Adhikari of the ICRC and back in Nepalganj they decided to get married. The conflict was still raging in western Nepal in 2005, when Joshi went to the United States. In Maryland, he initially worked at a Bengali-owned Subway outlet, spending long hours on his feet behind the counter. He changed jobs frequently, financing his education along the way, and ultimately graduated with a degree in finance in 2008. He joined Hancock Whitney Bank in Texas, and has risen up the ranks to be Senior Vice President. A colleague inspired him to run as a way to stay healthy. But it soon turned into something more meaningful — running more than a dozen 50km marathons for charity.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  Last year, Joshi returned to Nepal to run the Everest Marathon, and raised $42,000 which he donated to <a href="https://onestepfoundation.org/" target="_blank">One Step Foundation</a> which works on health care, child welfare and cultural preservation in Nepal and around the world. In June this year, Joshi and his family climbed Kilimanjaro, raising $19,000 for 80 HIV-affected orphaned children in Tanzania. During the Diwali festival he ran 220km in Nevada’s Red Canyon and raised $25,000 for cataract surgeries through the the <a href="https://www.theruitfoundation.org/" target="_blank">Ruit Foundation</a> in Nepal for cataract surgeries.&nbsp; Joshi does not run competitions, and is not trying to break any records. His motto is: “My race, my pace.”&nbsp; Turning his childhood scarcity into helping others, he says: “We all share sunlight, rain, air, and soil, nothing is truly just your own. I grew up without shoes, and I am fortunate to be able to distribute shoes to those who walk barefoot.” We ask Bal Joshi what (and where) next? His answer: the <a href="https://www.worldmarathonchallenge.com/" target="_blank">World Marathon Challenge</a> that will go around the world to run seven marathons in seven continents in seven days beginning in Antarctica at end-January.&nbsp; Joshi aims to run wearing the daura suruwal and Nepal’s flag as to show where he comes from, and how far in life he has come.

Running for dear life

The Narayani River in Chitwan National Park is at only 180m above sea level, but &nbsp;on a rare clear day last week visitors could see the summit of 7,893m-high Himalchuli right across Nepal, 150km away.&nbsp; Upstream, the Trisuli, Seti and Kali Gandaki &nbsp;join to form the Narayani in a catchment stretching 46,300 sq km from Dhaulagiri to Langtang — spanning one-third of Nepal’s area.&nbsp; Glaciers up in those mountains, and even a part of the Tibetan Plateau, feed the Narayani. To see the snows and river together underscores the need to regard the Himalaya not just as a mountain range, but as a composite watershed. This delicate balance between mountains and plains is now destabilised by climate breakdown. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_105ddc802eb5742227d62687c003bfdb1f3c55faba2c6352b29c2a83123247e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251225111216_105ddc802eb5742227d62687c003bfdb1f3c55faba2c6352b29c2a83123247e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_b4c2c51021e6a21e6d87c748ba8eb6401827ad69d44953af842859c6839350c1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251224141228_b4c2c51021e6a21e6d87c748ba8eb6401827ad69d44953af842859c6839350c1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1778" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  “The climate crisis is a water issue. It is not just about this river, but the mountains and the glaciers we can see from,” said Adil Najam, President of the World Wildlife Fund International during a visit to Chitwan last week. “Water is going to be a frontline climate issue not only for Nepal but for the world itself. This crisis is not long-term, it is immediate-term.” Water from the Narayani, Rapti and other rivers have been vital in shaping the conservation success story of Chitwan National Park. But Nepal’s oldest nature reserve now suffers from either too much water during monsoon floods, or too little in the dry season as a result of extreme weather caused by climate breakdown. Insufficient recharge of aquifers and over-extraction of groundwater have caused oxbow lakes and wildlife watering holes inside the Park to dry up, and solar-powered pumps have been installed to replenish some of them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_97cb5c51d38d4cc038fbaa305eca8e7096d2a58e573ee016fa7e2b9972e67f62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251224141228_97cb5c51d38d4cc038fbaa305eca8e7096d2a58e573ee016fa7e2b9972e67f62" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Nepal tripled its tiger population to nearly 400 in the past 14 years, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/close-encounter-of-the-wild-kind-in-nepal?fbclid=IwY2xjawFomglleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHd0IT1aTm1ugPsScRVjFSOQKx4trJC1QolMquJH-VcPA3Dsuc7J8twvEtg_aem_oRrHg17T6T0bQzRqU0AvgA" target="_blank">rhino numbers have rebounded to 752</a> with near-zero poaching for the past decade, and vulture species have been rescued from the brink of extinction — all this largely due to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence" target="_blank">efforts of local communities in the buffer zones</a> of parks like Chitwan. “The biodiversity here was protected because conservation has been collaborative,” said <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-s-tharu-are-tiger-protectors" target="_blank">Birendra Mahato</a>, an elected member of the Ratnanagar ward adjacent to the Park. “This <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/parks-plus-people" target="_blank">involvement of people in the buffer zone</a>, including us from the indigenous communities, has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-s-tharu-are-tiger-protectors" target="_blank">helped reduce poaching and human-wildlife conflict</a>.” The <a href="http://www.apple.com/" target="_blank">Tharu, Bote and Musahar</a> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-s-tharu-are-tiger-protectors" target="_blank">indigenous groups that used to live inside what is now the national park</a> followed traditional practices that took into account the behaviour of tigers, rhinos and wild elephants. There were few fatal wildlife attacks.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251226141228_d7c2df18d98d99c32d63ccce53edbe48a36a6a65612e3042f7e93b646f9d86ee.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251226141228_d7c2df18d98d99c32d63ccce53edbe48a36a6a65612e3042f7e93b646f9d86ee" data-rendition-name="original" width="828" height="693" loading="lazy" alt="CNP map"> </figure>  “We need to revive that traditional knowledge so there is human-wildlife coexistence, not conflict,” Mahato added.&nbsp; And communities living in the buffer zone will only protect wildlife if they see a benefit from saving them. The proven way to ensure that coexistence is through well-managed and sustainable tourism that lifts local living standards. The village of Amaltari along the Narayani river has several high-end resorts that employ local people as nature guides, hotel staff and cultural groups performing for tourists. Besides these, the village has 35 women-led homestays where visitors can experience indigenous culture, food and lifestyle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_759ae97bf2c2f0365e1340cb8468cd9fc44ae735d50a1c76ce92d4651cb08da1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251224141228_759ae97bf2c2f0365e1340cb8468cd9fc44ae735d50a1c76ce92d4651cb08da1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  “Lifting living standards is the most effective way to ensure nature conservation, and this means protecting authentic local heritage to generate income from tourism,” Adil Najam said (Interview, below). Tourists come to the buffer zone in the western edge of Chitwan National Park in Amaltari for safaris to see tigers, rhinos, the vulture conservation site, or to float down the river to watch the gharial, crocodiles and migratory birds. Chitwan National Park saw 300,000 visitors last year, with Nepalis now outnumbering foreign tourists. Gita Mahato runs one of the Amaltari homestays and admits that it was not easy in the beginning to ensure that the quality of service was up to mark, and business suffered during and after the pandemic. “But now we have more experience and confidence, our incomes have gone up, and it has restored pride in our culture and helped protect nature,” she added. “It is like a fairy tale.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_e136c9d7242193503080782d916209f8223d9c74079180b49c099083c27e4b09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251225111216_e136c9d7242193503080782d916209f8223d9c74079180b49c099083c27e4b09" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> <figcaption>Vulture feeding at Jatayu which has rescued the raptors from the brink of extinction. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_58a4185f90c35a47806a077a19e7f24d8a9635ac45e8ce457f03a7604ba534b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251224141228_58a4185f90c35a47806a077a19e7f24d8a9635ac45e8ce457f03a7604ba534b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Improved living standards have impacted other social aspects: there are schools, children have better nutrition, child marriage has gone down, no one is stealing electricity with hooks anymore, and there are now three beauty parlours in Amaltari.&nbsp; WWF Nepal helped with seed money to set up the local Hamar Cooperative, which ploughs tourism income into a savings scheme that lends to members. There are no defaulters, and the indigenous <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/parks-by-the-people-and-for-the-people" target="_blank">Musahar, Bote and Tharu</a> households now have savings. The municipality has built electric fences to protect the rice and mustard fields from wildlife, and this has eliminated fatalities here from tiger attacks. The community’s Anti-poaching Youth Group and the Park’s military have increased vigilance after the jailbreak of notorious wildlife traffickers in September.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_3cff4bdf947bbcb070fe584ab628fb1b79cec047236e56a4486070f8f66ae42d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20251224141228_3cff4bdf947bbcb070fe584ab628fb1b79cec047236e56a4486070f8f66ae42d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Chitwan and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence" target="_blank">national parks and buffer zones</a> across Nepal are conducting a massive tiger census this week, installing 1,100 camera traps. The cameras also help to curb poaching, and the total tiger population is expected to exceed 400. Says Ghana Gurung from WWF Nepal: “This is the best example that protecting one charismatic species that is at the top of the food chain helps to protect biodiversity and the entire ecosystems.” <h2>“Water is the frontline climate issue”</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_8bf2b772f726c8f9eb11cc5b79f5c9c8afa115ee0eb170e69f52bf07a6a1e222.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20251225111216_8bf2b772f726c8f9eb11cc5b79f5c9c8afa115ee0eb170e69f52bf07a6a1e222" data-rendition-name="original" width="1619" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> <figcaption>Adil Najam with young Buffer Zone forest guides.</figcaption> </figure>  World Wildlife Fund International President Adil Najam was in Chitwan last week, and spoke to Ghana Gurung of WWF Nepal. Ghana Gurung: What are your impressions after visiting Chitwan National Park? Adil Najam: I always knew Nepal was special, and the work of WWF Nepal was special, but I just didn’t realise how special. Seeing the work first hand in Chitwan with species protection, zero-poaching and, most importantly, how to work with communities, particularly with indigenous communities so that we turn this rhetoric of nature vs people into truly a bridge of nature and people. Meeting members of indigenous communities and conservation officials, seeing their sense of pride about what has been achieved was very motivating.&nbsp; So much of what you are doing here in Nepal is relevant to the UN’s SDG goals and WWF’s own 2030 roadmap — especially our core work on species. The challenges are great, but we do not take enough time to appreciate the achievements. We haven’t got to where we want to yet, but we are much further down the road. Tigers have almost tripled, rhinos more than tripled, zero poaching for many years, and all of this with a grassroots approach working with communities. It is not always easy, their concerns are real, but working with them as partners shows that conservation and people do not need to be contradictions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_988386ce4e292ca298d9546035cb5e51f4b0c4bed3c6069b269360c2c1d3c98e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251225111216_988386ce4e292ca298d9546035cb5e51f4b0c4bed3c6069b269360c2c1d3c98e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> </figure>  You mention challenges. What are some of the difficulties ahead? When you are working at a high level, the first challenge is keeping it at that level. Unfortunately global challenges like climate change, biodiversity loss are now so great that we have to multiply our efforts multiple times. Nepal also needs to share what you do here with the rest of the world. Unless we learn from each other, we are not going to solve the planetary crises. I was very happy to see how much the youth are involved in Nepal’s conservation effort, but the challenge will be how to get young people excited about conservation with an aspiration to do more.&nbsp; Yes, we try to work more with the youth. What were some of the other highlights of the trip? Clearly, one of the outstanding highlights was the visit to the homestay collective run by indigenous communities, particularly that they are women-led and they have become entrepreneurial, learning new ways to work with nature, designing new livelihoods, by having guests who enjoy nature. The homestay program in Nepal really has ownership and links nature and people.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_d8d27836a3d549713d2ff80687c32c2f7723a1c5bd778833852d0216a447b4f7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20251224141228_d8d27836a3d549713d2ff80687c32c2f7723a1c5bd778833852d0216a447b4f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Nepal is one of the most climate vulnerable countries in the world. What were some of the impacts you noticed?&nbsp; I think every country now is climate vulnerable. For the developing world, it is a a compounded challenge not only because they were not responsible for the problem, but also because we now face its consequences. Because the world has not done very much on mitigation, the challenges have become more difficult. Besides carbon mitigation, we need to focus on adaptation and address the issue of water.&nbsp; Climate in the age of adaptation essentially becomes a water issue, and Chitwan has done well to protect its fresh water habitats. It is not just about these rivers, but the mountains and the glaciers we can see from here that feed them. We have compartmentalised problems: this is climate, this is biodiversity, that is plastic. That is not how nature works. There is no solution to the climate challenge without dealing with nature, and vice versa. So, water is going to be a frontline climate issue not only for Nepal but for the world itself. Leadership on climate will have to rest with countries like Nepal in demonstrating ways to build climate resilience. And resilience resides in people. Given this, what are the strategies we need going forward? We are seeing resource constraints, and that is not news. But beyond that many of the biggest challenges of our time are at threshold or beyond threshold level — whether they are climate related, loss of nature, or water stress, etc. We are at this pivotal point, and I hope we will invent better ways on how to deal with these crises. As you already do in Nepal, we have to look at ecosystems as integrated and connected, where doing good for one thing has a positive impact on another. We know that with species here in Chitwan — if one species does well, a whole bunch of others also benefit.&nbsp; &nbsp;And like you do here, we have to work in partnerships with communities, conservation people, other international organisations, the private sector. This is not the time for finding your corner and hiding in it. This is a planetary problem, and we need a 8 billion people solution.&nbsp; And the writing on the wall in Nepal and elsewhere is that young people are the key to the present and the future. It is really their world. We have to create an environment in which they can thrive to reach their own potential. And we have to give them the sense that although things are difficult, if we do the right things there are solutions. 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/20251224141220_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20251224141220_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG"> </figure>