<figure><img width="623" height="426" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc0d9c7e80680e08bbffjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Meeting Daw Aung San Suu Kyi in Yangon in 1998.</figcaption></figure>The 1 February 2021 coup d’état by Myanmar’s military (Tatmadaw), has been widely condemned by all the world’s democratic leaders, human rights activists and genuine <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/kathmandu-remembers-aung-san-suu-kyi/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">friends of the people of Myanmar</a> around the globe. In an unusual manner for the world’s top diplomat, UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres has gone so far as to urge the world community to make sure that Myanmar’s military coup fails. 
Like many other world leaders, he urged the military leadership to respect the will of the people of Myanmar as expressed in the 8 November 2020 general elections that gave Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy (NLD) Party a resounding 83 % of the popular vote. Guterres called the reversal of those elections “absolutely unacceptable”.
Notwithstanding the Secretary-General’s strong call, the most powerful organ of the UN, the Security Council, issued a mild statement that failed to condemn the coup because of strong objection by China, a veto-wielding member of the Council with significant economic interests in Myanmar. Reflecting the Beijing government’s views, China’s state news agency Xinhua referred to the military coup simply as a “major Cabinet reshuffle”.
Given the potential veto by China and Russia (both permanent members of the Security Council that sell huge quantities of arms to Tatmadaw), it is unlikely that the Council will muster the courage or the unanimity needed to intervene or impose stern sanctions against the military junta.
However, even an indirect condemnation of the coup and a call for restoration of democratic institutions and respect for people’s human rights sends a clear signal of solidarity of the international community to the people of Myanmar to fight for their rights.
Donald Trump’s impact
The ostensible reason for the Tatmadaw’s putsch is their objection to apparent electoral irregularities in the November 2020 elections in which the military-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP) suffered a humiliating defeat.
Coincidentally, the Tatmadaw’s charges of massive electoral fraud in Myanmar sound very similar to those of the former US President Donald Trump’s discredited claims of similar electoral fraud in the US presidential election. Indeed, the Trump administration’s cuddling of authoritarian regimes may have given some encouragement to the Burmese junta.
The junta was certainly aware that its power grab would be condemned by the new Biden administration in the US, the European Union and other democratic governments, and human rights groups around the world. But knowing it can count on strong support of China and Russia, and tacit approval or acquiescence of its ASEAN neighbors and India too, seems to have given it the confidence that it can afford to withstand the opprobrium by the rest of the world.
The fact that Aung San Suu Kyi’s international stature has greatly diminished in recent years was probably another factor in the military’s calculation to dare to overthrow her.
However, it is difficult to fathom what Tatmadaw’s long-term calculations and strategy are. For an army that is despised by a large majority of the people of Myanmar, because of its decades of oppression and corruption that has gravely retarded the country’s development, it already enjoys a very favorable position under the current power-sharing arrangement with Suu Kyi.
It can appoint 25 percent of the members of parliament. It controls three of the most powerful government ministries in charge of national security. It is allowed to carry out very lucrative business ventures that has made many army generals among the richest people in the country.
The current power-sharing arrangement is such that if the elected government fails, the blame would go largely to its leader Aung San Suu Kyi, but if it succeeds the Tatmadaw too could claim some credit and brag that the Myanmar model of power-sharing works!
It is, therefore, baffling to figure out why the military would give up such a sweet-heart deal in pursuit of an uncertain future knowing that the putsch would push the country into the ranks of a pariah regime once again.
The speculation is that either the Tatmadaw leadership was fearful of the NLD government clipping its current prerogatives by attempting to amend the army-imposed constitution or more likely the top General Min Aung Hlaing’s inflated personal ambitions led him to make this pre-emptive strike.
Outfoxing each other 
A decade ago, Tatmadaw and Aung San Suu Kyi negotiated a power-sharing deal. After Suu Kyi’s NLD Party scored a sweeping victory in the 2015 elections, Myanmar became the democratic darling of the world. It heralded the end of Myanmar’s international isolation, the blossoming of a relatively free media, as well as an explosion of social media.
Young Burmese flocked to the Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, followed by their elders soon afterwards. Tourism started flourishing. Foreign investment, particularly from neighboring ASEAN countries, and especially, China boomed.
International media and NGOs, banned during the military regime, flocked to Myanmar. And UN agencies severely constrained by highly restricted mandate and shortage of funding because of sanctions against the military regime by Western donors got a new lease of life and expanded their operations.
But the euphoria of Myanmar’s transition away from military rule to a seemingly liberal democracy was premature and exaggerated. It was more wishful and hopeful than the ground realities justified.
In the power-sharing deal she entered with Tatmadaw in 2011, Suu Kyi tentatively accepted the 2008 Constitution drafted by the military with a view to perpetuating its dominance on all key issues of “national security” under the garb of a pro-forma electoral democracy.
With her confidence in securing overwhelming election victory, Suu Kyi’s calculation was that she will be able to outfox the Tatmadaw and amend the constitution to weaken or eliminate the military’s power, and strengthen genuine democracy.
But it appears that the Tatmadaw actually outfoxed Suu Kyi. It even got her, a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, to condone the military’s ethnic cleansing and genocidal oppression of the Rohingya Muslims and to cuddle Burman Buddhist xenophobia.
To the consternation of the international community, but continuing adulation of the ethnic Burman population, it turned out that as a politician Suu Kyi and Tatmadaw shared many common Bamar ethno-nationalist sentiments and deeply held prejudices against most non-Bamar ethnic communities, particularly the Rohingya Muslims, questioning their status as equal and patriotic citizens of Myanmar.
Forming and Spurning the Kofi Annan Commission 
Stung by international criticism of Tatmadaw’s brutal oppression of the Rohingyas, and as a face-saving gesture, in 2016 Suu Kyi formed an international Advisory Commission on Rakhine State headed by former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan to propose measures to ensure the social and economic well-being of both the Buddhist, the Muslim and other ethnic communities in Myanmar’s conflict-ravaged regions.
In my view, this Commission came up with the best possible recommendations and a roadmap for not only Rakhine state but to ensure a sustainable, democratic, prosperous and equitable multi-ethnic future for all of Myanmar. But Suu Kyi essentially cold-shouldered Annan’s recommendations, perhaps fearing that the military would never accept them.
Inspired and disappointed by Suu Kyi
As a senior UNICEF official in the 1990s and 2000s, I had the opportunity to meet and interact with Suu Kyi as well as several senior Burmese military leaders, including the seemingly progressive General Thein Sein when he was the powerful Secretary-1 of the State Peace and Development Committee (SPDC) who later became Prime Minister and the first “elected” “civilian” President of Myanmar. He was the one who negotiated the power sharing deal with Suu Kyi in 2010.
I recall Suu Kyi, being an articulate and inspiring personality. Very strong-minded and stubborn at times, she presented herself as a staunch defender of democracy and human rights in Myanmar and globally. Her advocacy of a Gandhian non-violent civil disobedience and her reputation as a Mandela-like prisoner of conscience over a prolonged period, led to her winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991.
But like many of her previous admirers, including her fellow Nobel Prize laureates, I became deeply disappointed by her politically-calculated alliance with the military when she defended the indefensible ethnic cleansing of Myanmar’s Rohingya Muslim community at the International Court of Justice in the Hague.
Although Suu Kyi’s international stature as an icon of democracy and human rights has suffered irredeemably, she continues to be immensely popular domestically. If anybody can potentially tame Myanmar’s powerful Tatmadaw, it still continues to be Aung San Suu Kyi, given both her undiminished domestic popularity and her father General Aung San’s nationalist credentials and legacy.
Thus, despite all her flaws, I believe the international community has no choice but to support the restoration of democratic process in Myanmar led, in the near-term, by Suu Kyi and her NLD party.
The possible ways forward 
However, in the longer term, both the people of Myanmar and the international community ought to internalize three important lessons from the Burmese conundrum of the past six decades: a) not to rely on the leadership of one individual, no matter how charismatic, b) the necessity of delegitimizing the privileged political role of Myanmar’s military, and c) looking beyond the necessary restoration of electoral democracy to a laser-like focus on tackling a range of issues that have perpetuated poverty, inequality and violent conflicts in this immensely resource-rich country that remains one of the poorest in the region.
Nobody believes the military’s promise that it will organize new elections in a year’s time and hand-over power to a newly-elected government. If free and fair elections are held, the military and its puppet party, the USDP, are likely to fare even worse than in the November 2020 general elections.
The junta maybe able to prolong its rule in the short-term by organizing sham elections and increased repression, but the durability of such a regime is questionable. We are already beginning to see the sprouting of a courageous campaign of civil disobedience in various forms, which is only likely to accelerate over time.
We can expect Tatmadaw to unleash harsh repression using all the tools and tricks in the authoritarians’ toolbox, starting with shutting down the internet and the social media. But there is no conceivable scenario under which the Tatmadaw can solve Myanmar’s entrenched problems and endear itself to a restive population.
In this day and age, harsh repression alone cannot ensure political stability. Even the military regime’s backers like China and most of the ASEAN countries that treasure political stability over democratic norms, are likely to abandon their active or tacit support of the junta, once they realize that a regime deeply despised by the populace and incapable of delivering sustainable development cannot ensure lasting stability and tranquility.
It is clear that the military has grossly misjudged the mood of the Burmese youth. Having tasted democracy and an open society during the past decade, Myanmar’s digitally savvy youth, like those of many other countries, are now so well-connected with their counterparts around the world, so well aware of their rights and their potential, so determined to pursue a prosperous future, that they will find many creative ways to outfox the military’s shenanigans.
Among the best proposals for a way forward is a solemn appeal by a wise and thoughtful religious leader, Cardinal Charles Maung Bo, Archbishop of Yangon, President of the Federation of Asian Bishops’ Conference, and a Co-President of Religions for Peace International.
He made a strong case for “demilitarizing Myanmar”, warning even before the latest coup: “History teaches us, diplomats and peacemakers know, that there is never going to be a military solution to a political conflict. Pursuing military solutions leads only to endless war and endless misery”.
Following the coup, the Cardinal issued an urgent message addressed to the people of Myanmar; its civilian leaders, including Aung San Suu Kyi; to the Myanmar military, and the international community.
The message calls for the people to stay calm, avoid violence, but pursue their goals peacefully. The Bishop chastises the military for its empty promises and urges the junta to respect people’s rights as expressed through their elected representatives, writers, activists, and especially Myanmar’s youth. He urges Suu Kyi and the NLD leaders to continue dialogue and with Tatmadaw to overcome the new challenges created by the latest coup.
To the International community, the Bishop cautions how sanctions in the past brought few results, and to avoid measures that risk collapsing the economy and throwing millions into poverty.
I tend to agree with the Bishop that general sanctions are a blunt instrument that hurt ordinary people while the rich and the powerful find many ways to evade them. However, I believe there is room and need for tough but very specifically and narrowly targeted sanctions against the key perpetrators and enforcers of the military putsch and their business interests, while meticulously sparing the ordinary people.
The international community would be wise to follow the Burmese historian Thant Myint-U’s advice to avoid a narrow focus on political change and help ensure the protection of ordinary people’s lives and livelihoods as part of any international action to thwart the military coup.
“Myanmar needs a fresh path to democracy” he says, “Free and fair elections (and respect for the results) are essential. But also essential is the transformation of a society shaped by decades of dictatorship, international isolation, brutal armed conflict, racial and religious discrimination, extreme poverty and widening inequality”.
In a world struggling to recover from the ravages of the COVID pandemic, and many other epochal crises, the plight of the people of Myanmar may not get the full attention it deserves. But let us hope that the sentiments of global solidarity will inspire them to regain their inalienable human rights and dignity.
<a href="http://www.kulgautam.org">Kul Chandra Gautam</a>, a Nepali diplomat, is a former Assistant Secretary-General of the UN and Deputy Executive Director of UNICEF. He is also the author of the recently-published "Global Citizen from Gulmi: My Journey from the Hills of Nepal to the Halls of the United Nations"
By arrangement with Inter Press Service (IPS)

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Post-Coup Myanmar, Aung San Suu Kyi and the Way Forward

‘One early morning, we heard the ambassador’s wife cry out, “Ram, Ram, Ram!” A disaster has befallen Nepal!” She had heard on the radio that a fire had consumed Singha Durbar." This is not about the arson attack on 9 September 2025, but the one on 8 July, 1973. It started in the South Wing of the then single-largest building in all of Nepal. It took two days to bring the blaze under control, requiring the use of explosives to demolish one wing to protect the imposing western facade. As Bhekh Bahadur Thapa recalls in the English translation of his memoir A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy, he was then on leave from the Nepal government serving with the IDRC in Ottawa.&nbsp; He had already served as Nepal’s Finance Secretary at age 25, went on to be Finance Minister and Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank. He was already younger than some of the GenZ ministers in Nepal’s present RSP government. Thapa, now 89, was at the launch of the book in February which was attended by former diplomats and bureaucrats. After speeches by panelists, there was a question from the audience about how Thapa had managed to be the diplomat he was, managing Nepal’s international relations on the world stage.&nbsp; Writer and journalist Akhilesh Upadhyay, who was moderating the panel, responded by going into the section of the book where we see Thapa as an ambassador to the US, playing tennis with White House officials, cultivating a network of contacts to project the identity and welfare of Nepal, and making it possible for a state visit by King Birendra to Ronald Reagan’s America. The book is full of anecdotes that suggest Thapa was a clever and strategic diplomat, always calm and unruffled, easily making friends in high places with his maturity and engaging sense of humour. Thapa’s memoir is heavy on details about Nepal’s administrative history during the years he was active in public service, serving as minister and ambassador under three kings: Mahendra, Birendra and Gyanendra, and alongside five prime ministers.&nbsp; Aside from an insider look on how certain treaties, development deals and research projects in Nepal came into fruition, Thapa goes into great detail about his personal and professional relationships with the kings, ministers, ambassadors, foreign leaders and politicians.&nbsp; As a reader, one is struck by the level of detail around the events that unfolded in Nepal over the years during Thapa’s tenure. Was Thapa recording a journal over the years of the events and the conversations that transpired, or were they committed to his phenomenal memory? Either way, the reader gets a glimpse of Nepal’s recent history from the early days of the Panchayat, through the People’s Movement and the democracy period, the Maoist insurgency, Royal Palace massacre of 2001, and Gyanendra’s coup of 2005.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1584" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How to win friends and influence nations NT"> </figure>  Not enough is said about the political parties of the time whose presence led to the way Nepal’s multiparty democracy came to be shaped. The book keeps its focus on the administration and the key figures around it, mostly those in the Panchayat era. Towards the second half of the book, we do start to hear about political parties, but not in great depth. Another figure whose presence in the book is conspicuously less prominent is that of his wife, Rita Thapa — the person who seems to have rescued him every time financial quandary or family care became a challenge. Yet, we do not see her as a full person. Perhaps because of the personal tragedies in his life, the children are also barely mentioned.&nbsp; The book is therefore less personal and more technical. Throughout, we learn about Thapa’s thinking as he navigated the world of diplomacy to win him the trust of those who mattered. There are tips here for a new generation of Nepali officials and diplomats about how much commitment and focus is needed to be good at one’s job and serve the national interest. This book adds to tomes that have been written on Nepal’s fragile relationship with India. ‘India has always wished for Nepal to remain dependent on it,’ writes Thapa, who served as Nepal’s ambassador to India and later in the Eminent Persons Group &nbsp;on Indo-Nepal relations that has been allowed to languish. The book has several insights into the Indo-Nepal trysts with diplomacy and agency.&nbsp; China’s role is also recorded, viewed through conversations during a visit to Beijing, but all that was before Nepal’s neighbour to the north emerged as a world economic and military power. The book also has such sudden instances of quirkiness and humour. For instance, we see a young Thapa in America explaining to a government official why he would like to return to Nepal instead of settling down in the US. “Because, Nepal is beautiful,” he said. The text is immaculate and does not read much like a translation, credit for which clearly goes to the team that put the edition together: translator Prawin Adhikari, &nbsp;Anagha Neelakanthan and Bhekh Thapa’s daughter, Manjushree. As Nepal enters a new era of governance and diplomacy, A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy should be essential reading for students of political science, economics and foreign affairs who can gain a fresh perspective on the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; There are dozens of forgotten state secrets recorded in the book, but the reader must also remember this is a story told from one person’s perspective and there may be others.&nbsp; So, what really made Thapa the diplomat he was? I met him in 2004 at the Kantipur TV studio when he was serving as king Gyanendra’s foreign minister. He was there for a studio interview, and I was just done with my English newscast.&nbsp; He surprised me at the door: “Pratibha! I’ve been reading your articles in The Kathmandu Post. You must keep writing.” I thanked him, glad to have been noticed for my work by a stranger. That was perhaps one of the things that set Thapa apart — he excelled at staying close to those in power, while also noticing those who were not.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Book details"> </figure>

How to win friends and influence nations

This is the 91st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I have still not come to terms with the reality that my daughter Ruby Thakur is now the Deputy Speaker of Nepal’s Parliament. Sometimes, when I am walking, the thought hits me, and I cannot believe it.&nbsp; Things changed for my daughter in a very short time. I had dreamt that the best my daughter could achieve was a good engineering job. Fate had bigger plans for her. She is no longer just my daughter, she is the nation’s daughter. Nepal’s daughter.&nbsp; My children’s education was always my foremost priority. That is the main reason I went overseas for employment. I realised the value of education while working in Saudi Arabia. In my office, colleagues with good education earn $8,000 per month working on computers. Those with low education toil outdoors in the heat for much lower wages. A good education or skills can change everything. I am in Nepal on vacation and will soon return to my job. Ruby is all set now. But I still have to take care of my other children's education. As the eldest son, I myself never got a chance to prioritise my own education. I dropped out in Grade 7 because I had to take care of my ageing parents and younger siblings. I have done all kinds of jobs. I worked in a landlord’s field for a share of the harvest. Even now my wife and I farm for the land owner and have to give away half of what we grow.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> <figcaption>Sogarath Thakur during a break in Nepal with wife tending to his farm.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  Then I worked as a barber, my family’s line of occupation. I went door to door cutting people’s hair and later worked in a relative’s saloon. Hairstyles were simple back then, and I got to keep half the fee. I also worked in a brick factory where I was paid weekly. &nbsp; I married when I was 16, and my wife was a year younger. As my family and responsibilities grew, I had to migrate leaving behind my three children including Ruby who was just three months old.&nbsp; I went to Qatar where I continued working as a barber. It was a large saloon and the standards for cleanliness and professionalism were higher. I had to hand over 70% of my daily earnings to the employer. I had to rely on my colleague to translate what the customer wanted. But I slowly became fluent in Arabic. I used to jot down words in Nepali and Arabic and memorise them. In Qatar, customers even came at night for haircuts, and people stayed up late. I would work till 3AM.&nbsp; Communicating with my family was one-way. I would go to Bismillah and ask someone to type out questions to my family about their whereabouts, how the harvest was that season. I would offer very little information about my life in Qatar because it was not easy. What was the point of getting them all worried? What could they do? I never received a letter in return, so throughout my time in Qatar, I never knew how my family was faring. When I appeared in the village after five years without any advance notice, it was a bittersweet reunion, and I had no gifts. I still remember how unfamiliar my village felt when I came home after so many years. I had to ask for directions. When I came home, Ruby was already in school. I had left her in my wife’s arms five years prior. I missed her growing up, and did not even see her pictures. My wife had to introduce her to me as her father. But it took just 15 minutes for her to warm up to me.&nbsp; The Arabic skills I had picked up in Qatar came in handy when I remigrated two years later to Saudi Arabia. I worked as a labourer in the desert heat, but once my company found out I spoke Arabic, I was hired for an indoor job as an office boy. The struggle in Qatar had paid off. I worked in an air conditioned office serving tea or coffee, doing bank runs or getting documents signed and photocopied. I have worked in the same company for the past 20 years, sending money home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  My wife is not just my children’s guardian, but also mine throughout the two decades I was away. I trust her with all my earnings, and she manages our household finances well. She makes sure that the children’s school fees and other expenses are paid on time. These days, with video calls, things have become much easier for me to stay in touch with home.&nbsp; When Ruby told me she wanted to do an engineering diploma, I was happy. Later, her friends inspired her to join politics so she started getting involved with Shram Sanskriti Party. I first found out she got the proportional representation nomination through social media while on my work duty in Saudi Arabia. I was so excited, but even more so when she was elected Deputy Speaker. I was back home in Dhanusha on my vacation at the time.&nbsp; We are overjoyed and waiting for her to come back to the village for a visit when she gets a chance so we can celebrate properly with everyone. I plan to go back to Saudi Arabia as originally planned, I have a good job and will work for maybe five more years. Ruby has taken 75% of the load off my back. She can help take care of her siblings.&nbsp; I sleep at 8PM every day and wake up at 5AM to exercise before my day in Saudi Arabia begins – I have stuck to the same routine for the last two decades and it has worked well for me and my health. I have a good rapport with my boss who is an Egyptian. My requests to resign have often been met with counter-offers to stay on. My honesty and hard work have won me the company's trust. I will go back and resume working as I have, despite my daughter’s huge achievements. I am still a farmer’s son, a simple man who has to fulfil his family responsibilities. My colleagues in Saudi Arabia are aware that Ruby is Deputy Speaker in Nepal’s Parliament, they are all happy for me and have congratulated me. This time, when I go back, I have promised them that I will throw a bakhri party to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.

The nation’s daughter

This is the 90th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. The Musahar community lives in the Nepal Tarai and India, they have been historically excluded and are at the bottom of the economic and caste ladder. Many families still work as sharecroppers for landlords, but overseas migration is changing their lives as this conversation between Abhinash Sada and Lalit Majhi shows. Both were home for a vacation from work in Malaysia which coincided with the election. They are hopeful that the new RSP government will improve things.&nbsp; Abhinash: I was born into such poverty that we worried about the next meal. My family used to work near the river, mining sand and gravel. They were paid in rice. Sometimes we children went to the field to help with work, not for money but for the roti we got for lunch. I was eight when I was sent to school, and I still remember the first day. Lalit: We were classmates. Abhinash already knew how to recite the Nepali alphabet, but did not know how to read the letters. Meanwhile, I knew how to write s v u but did not know what those letters stood for. I just liked using a stick to scribble the alphabets in the sand while tending to the water buffalos. We finally learnt the alphabets properly in school. We used to skip school a lot but became interested after they offered sports like volleyball, and they also let us use a computer once every week. We started focusing on our studies, and Abinash used to stay at my my house so we could start studying together at 4AM because the teacher said our minds were freshest in the morning.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> </figure>  Abhinash: I used to sleep over at Lalit’s house so we could get up and study together early in the morning before school. We enjoyed studying so much we even asked the teacher for more homework. Sometimes, we used to skip class to do some work to earn some money so we could afford stationery or uniforms. Lalit ranked better than me in class.&nbsp; Lalit: My best memories of childhood was us swimming in the river after the rains when water levels were high. My mother thought we would get sick, but we did not listen. When we finally came home in the evenings, she would be fuming. My father worked in Punjab as a contractor and took fellow villagers there to work.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040432_0f8b3936c1edef4ff2e3682a66131278bf822022b1e8ae3aca1418e0fa232136.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260411040432_0f8b3936c1edef4ff2e3682a66131278bf822022b1e8ae3aca1418e0fa232136" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash with his family.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: My father went to Saudi Arabia to support the family. When he came home for a break, he enrolled me in a private school so my English would improve and private schools were also stricter. I was in Grade 5 in the government school, but the private school put me in kindergarten. It felt strange because everyone else was much younger. After three years, I rejoined Grade 6 in the government school but Lalit had already moved on to Grade 8. We no longer studied together. Lalit: I did not pass my SLC. Instead of retaking the exam, I went to Chennai and got a dishwashing job although I was promised waiter. I came back after a month and started getting my paperwork done for Qatar. I borrowed Rs100,000 from a villager at 36% interest. Even so, in three years there I helped my family repay loans and bail out my eldest brother who had been cheated in Malaysia. All my savings in Qatar and what my middle brother earned in Malaysia went to rescue our oldest brother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_716000dceca4fbf31b9364fa712e30cbdca83783d59c8e10b47f6ae3e39b8825.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260411040436_716000dceca4fbf31b9364fa712e30cbdca83783d59c8e10b47f6ae3e39b8825" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Lalit with his mother.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: We Musahars can work hard. Our forebears worked from childhood tilling the fields of land owners whose children went to school. Saying no was not an option. Our fathers’ generation prioritised education because they did not want us to be trapped in servitude. I studied until Grade 12 but failed my exam. I worked in a sweet factory in Bangalore to support my parents. I returned after a year, and did odd jobs in a brick factory and sometimes as a day labourer with my father. I did not go abroad because I did not have money and people were not willing to lend to us. It was only when I got a free recruitment job in Malaysia that I decided to migrate.&nbsp; Lalit: I came back from Qatar, got married and remigrated to Malaysia with Abinash. It has been 2.5 years and we work in the same factory and share a dorm room just as we did as kids. With the money we earned, we have bought land back in our village. We are returning to Malaysia after our vacation here. My wife put mehendi in my palms, and told me that I should remember her whenever I see it. I also gave her a silver chain I was wearing as memento. My wife said the mehendi will last about a month and will fade away, that is the most difficult part of being overseas — but after a few weeks the working life takes over and we get occupied with duty.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash's family seeing him off in 2023.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_5a4faef596e76365fce3181fe8f3a215306755287cbe353c433e34758df0aaec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260411040436_5a4faef596e76365fce3181fe8f3a215306755287cbe353c433e34758df0aaec" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash and Lalit getting welcomed by family after their return.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: The election coincided with my vacation and I voted for the RSP in both ballots. They have already started building a road in our area, so there is hope. People in other parties were angry, but I told them my one vote would not have made a difference, they would have still lost. You can feel new energy in the village now, maybe things will change. We Musahars have always been discriminated against, even though our situation has improved. At least we do not have to worry about food anymore. It is not just my father who is the breadwinner. Now, I am also earning to support the family.&nbsp; Lalit: The whole point about migrating is to take care of my parents and make sure they are happy. They are my role models, and struggled all their lives for us. They invested in our studies so we would not have to live through what they did. They are happy that we are earning and supporting them. We bought land with the money saved in Malaysia. Now, as we go back, the next goal is to build a house. Then we will think about our future. When Abhinash and I were children, we thought we would be ठुलो मान्छे one day. I looked up to my teacher and wanted to be like him. But now that I am grown up, I do not have anyone I look up to. I just make my goals and achieve them.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_83af55ced9108a0604495df2f808e497f6ecb73d1772c30af72cef94a4f21915.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260411040436_83af55ced9108a0604495df2f808e497f6ecb73d1772c30af72cef94a4f21915" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> </figure>  Abhinash: We have our whole lives ahead of us, and it is our turn to support our parents. What is the point of anything if our family is not happy? I do not want my parents to have to depend on others for money. We Musahars have been historically mistreated. We are known to be too trusting, and we do as we are told. We grew up believing that we were underdogs because of our caste. People still treat us as untouchable, although less than before. We were invited to parties but made to sit separately; at friends’ houses, we were asked to remain outside. We accepted all this because that is way it always was. Even when it made us feel bad. My younger brother stopped going to parties altogether because he did not like that discriminatory treatment. The new generation is not like that thankfully.&nbsp; Lalit: I once ran away from a feast because the Musahar invitees had to eat last. High caste or low caste, we all have the same red blood. The young ones thankfully are not like that. We were invited to a wedding recently during this vacation from Malaysia, and all of us young boys sat and ate together. But if the elders had been around they would have asked Abhinash and me to sit separately from the others.&nbsp;

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