<img width="2560" height="1707" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111136/636cd4219c7e80680e08f9a7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Nepal’s recent history has been marked by milestones popularly remembered as People’s Movements. The first one in 1980 got us a referendum on the absolute monarchy. In 2006, the people took to the streets for peace and democracy.This week, after riot police beat up civic groups and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/police-hose-down-anti-oli-rally/">hosed them down</a> with water cannons, there were calls once more for another pro-democracy uprising.  A video clip went viral of journalist and writer Narayan Wagle stabbing the air with his forefinger: “This is the beginning of a third people’s movement.” There had been much l<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dahal-nepal-hold-anti-oli-rally/">arger protests</a> in recent weeks against Prime Minister Oli’s dissolution of the Lower House on 20 December, but police had stood by. Why they had to use batons and point blank water cannons against a small and peaceful march is inexplicable, unless it was to provoke a backlash.Previous pro-democracy street protests have seen the emergence of a new political order, except in 1980 when the referendum allowed the absolute monarchy to prevail. A decade later, protests led to a lifting of the ban on political parties, ushering in a constitutional monarchy. The 2006 protests were as much a movement for peace as it was against King Gyanendra trying to turn the clock back.The winter of 2020-21 will be remembered as one where civic groups once more had to take to the streets against what they saw as an autocratic prime minister riding roughshod over the Constitution.The street protests have mostly been dominated by cadre loyal to the anti-Oli faction of the Nepal Communist Party (NCP) as well as some pro-democracy activists. It has not yet galvanised the public, which seems to see it still as largely a power struggle between top men in the ruling party who were unable to resolve their personal differences. This <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/fight-amidst-the-ruins/">ego-clash</a> has led to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/splitting-and-spitting/">virtual split</a> of a party that had a commanding majority in Parliament with both factions competing for bigger street rallies.After last week’s show of force by the Dahal faction, the Oli establishment is staging his own superspreader street event on 5 February. Most analysts agree that if only Oli and his arch-rival Pushpa Kamal Dahal could call a truce, the division in the party would evaporate. Into the fray has plunged Bam Dev Gautam, a NCP secretariat member who has made no secret of his ambition to be prime minister even if he lost the 2017 election. On Wednesday, he launched a national campaign to unite the party, possibly with himself at the helm.“I am not with either faction, both are at fault. I am trying to keep the party united,” Gautam told the media. “I have the influence to return Oliji and Prachandaji back to speaking terms.” The opposition Nepali Congress has tried, unsuccessfully so far, to fill the void left by a weakened NCP. But it is the Hindu-Right RPP that has picked some wind on its sails, prompting a Communist prime minister to resort to whataboutery by offering prayers at Pashupati, garlanded to the chin.“This for the long time will remain the defining image of Nepali Communist Andolan!” wrote lawyer Semanta Dahal on Twitter.Where does the course of politics go from here? Much will depend on the Supreme Court verdict, as the debates drag on and writs keep piling up. Another case on Wednesday was a contempt of court against four former Chief Justices for questioning its independence.“While the Supreme Court hears depositions, both parties are competing in using abusive language against each other and to organise bigger street tamasha,” says commentator Shekhar Kharel.   There is still a role for civil society to instill fresh hope as Nepalis look beyond the same old faces. But there is a caveat. Every time young turks have risen up, the older political parties have made sure to relegate them to the second rung.

Pratibha Tuladhar

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Back in the streets

<img width="1328" height="348" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4edc9c7e80680e04fcdajpeg.jpg" alt=""/>After a flurry of accusations by Nepali women of sexual harassment by co-workers, bosses, teachers, family members or strangers in buses, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the #Metoo movement</a> has largely dropped out of the headlines. Very few of the accused have faced trial, detention, or even lost their jobs.And it is perhaps because of this impunity and sense of entitlement in conservative Nepal that women are now stepping up with deeply personal testimonies of their own abuse. They are using social media platforms, and the weekend section of newspapers to keep the issue alive. These narratives are inspiring more women to come out and tell stories they have never told anyone. “I was harassed since the time I did not know the difference between good touch and bad touch, but I could not do anything about it even though I am not shy. I just could not bring myself to slap a harasser in a public vehicle. Then I thought, even if I am not be able to hit back, I can write about it,” said Durga Karki, who wrote a courageous account in Annapurna Post titled <a href="http://annapurnapost.com/news/125048" target="_blank" rel="noopener">#Notme.</a>Even though only a few brave women came out during the #Metoo campaign to tell their stories, Karki says nearly all Nepali women have been harassed at some point.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/betterforbalance/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">#BalanceforBetter</a>, Namrata Sharma <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/shivanis-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Shivani Singh Thar</a>u, a well-known media personality, recently shared a write-up in Kantipur titled <a href="https://www.kantipurdaily.com/koseli/2019/06/15/156058063972641905.html?fbclid=IwAR1p4QtxNzhfLUAwRfWipeL0-UWxWylPBplxIIhmQ1AJaHVY4xerR5Cu9GY" target="_blank" rel="noopener">34 inch ‘D’</a> which recounted incidents of harassment she has faced from a male teacher, men in her worksplace, and others. “I got many messages from women saying they had faced such situations as well, they said they  too needed to speak out publicly,” says Tharu. “Among those reacting were men, some of whom have daughters and were emotionally touched. They started imagining what if it was their own daughter?”These recent writings by women in the Nepali press have also spread awareness among men who may have intentionally or unintentionally made women feel uncomfortable with their behaviour. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4ede9c7e80680e04fcdbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It is not just women who have been writing confessional pieces. Author Ramesh Sayan recently published an article <a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff;" href="http://annapurnapost.com/news/126522?fbclid=IwAR1_cQXR7AgvLudv5CsxWJ5hyt3JLK8DCLjEVvyBc7YKercCdSAnJT4fUes" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Keta Haru Ko Kuntha </a>(Frustration of Boys) which talked about how boys are brought up by their families and the kind of values they learn from society. Sayan wrote about how topics related to sex are neither taught by parents nor teachers, but by equally under-informed peers. “The main issue is how men were schooled. As a man, I experience the same psychology and my company since childhood has only been male. I wrote the article to show how the social structure is for them”, says Sayan.  <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4ee19c7e80680e04fcdcjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One of the most talked about recent write-ups is by Kunta Sharma because it was about her former husband, Megh Raj Sharma who is better known as the singer ‘Manjul’. The two are literary personalities, but Kunta Sharma writes about how despite being educated and supposedly independent, she suffered physical and mental exploitation from her husband.“I was educated, yet I was like a doll inside a toy house and served as a sex slave,” Sharma, now 74, confided.Sharma and her son filed a defamation case in the Lalitpur District Court against <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3643#.XScSr-szbIU">Manjul</a>, but Sharma was not happy with the court’s decision. When a DNA test proved that Manjul was indeed the father of their youngest son, the court fined him a mere Rs500. “Our society is infected with patriarchy. Women have to muster the courage to go public, and must have the endurance to fight till the end, whether or not we get justice,” Sharma says.One reason the women say they are writing about their past now is because very few of the accused men faced any action. “The #Metoo movement fizzled out in Nepal because the men got away, that was because women did not want to name names,” says Durga Karki.Tribhuvan University recently filed a sexual harassment FIR against economic teacher Jagadish Murti Koirala, but he is absconding. Bimal Acharya, who edits the weekend section of Annapurna Post and published both Kunta Sharma and Durga Karki’s accounts, says: “I consciously publish more stories by women, and encourage new women writers and provide them a forum.” Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/sexual-harassment-in-Nepal,3389" target="_blank" rel="noopener">#IWalkFreely</a>, Asmita GauchanWomen are now coming out not just on mainstream press, but also on social media to share  stories and encouraging others to do the same. @CatcallsofKTM on Instagram gives space for women to share testimonies, and was opened by a 16-year-old who says she was frequently harassed. She prefers anonymity for now, but felt Nepali women needed the platform.“It is a good followup to the #Metoo that women are coming out to share their stories, one writer encourages others to write,” says <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/novelist-returns-to-non-fiction/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Narayan Wagle</a>, the editor of Kantipur.

Nepali women take to media to expose abuse

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hUzmFktVAsHis hair graying and receding, his gaunt and weathered face creased with laughter wrinkles, Narayan Wagle looks out over the city from his 8th floor newsroom and pours out his exasperation of trying to juggle journalism with fiction.After two novels in 14 years, the editor of Kantipur has returned to non-fiction with his new book, Koreana Coffee Guff that employs the chatty style he developed in his newspaper columns, but written from his experiences in Korea. After trying to use fiction to get closer to the truth, and hit by writer’s block on his third novel, the journalist seems to have come a full circle.“The characters in my new novel were not behaving the way I wanted them to,” Wagle says, breaking into easy mirth. “If they are saying things I do not want them to say, then I could not take the plot in the direction I wanted to.”So, Wagle put his characters into hibernation and turned to non-fiction. The journalist in writer was inspired by his sixth trip to Korea to make that country the backdrop for his narrative. Even though there are over 70,000 Nepali workers in Korea, he did not interact with too many of them, and they do not figure in his book.Wagle used to have a popular column called Coffee Guff during his first stint at Kantipur in the 1990s, and he has reverted to its meandering conversations interspersed with monologues and philosophical observations in Koreana. Even though it is an account of his travels in Korea, Wagle says it is not a  travelogue but ‘creative non-fiction’.Read also<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=572#.XG6MZaIzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">: Fiction more real than fact</a>, Kunda Dixit<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101152/636a26e99c7e80680e043a40jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1300" height="966"/><figcaption>Photo: Monika Deupala</figcaption></figure>“Every day I deal with the ins and outs of news, which has a limited writing style, but there is a creative writer in me that seeks release, and that is why I combine them in creative non-fiction,” Wagle explains.Wagle does find ways to be creative in journalism as well, but says that is only the surface. Actually, he is always curious about what is hidden between the lines. That takes him to explore different facets of life through other writings. But since journalism is a hectic job in itself that sometimes takes more than the normal 8-hour workday, he is left with little time to write. But there is always time to read.“To be a good writer, you must read as much as possible, which is what I try to do when I have time left over after deadline,” says Wagle showing the translated books that he carries around in his bag. “It is important to read world literature, I am intrigued by how people express their thoughts in creative ways in different languages.”In his novelist avatar, Narayan Wagle shot to fame in 2005 after winning the Madan Puraskar for his first novel <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/palpasa-caf%C3%A9-translated-in-french,1847">Palpasa Café</a>, which is set during the war. His second novel Mayur Times was not as well receivied, stranding him in a mid-career crisis for almost a decade.Palpasa Café has been translated into four languages, but most Nepali literature is not known outside Nepal because of the lack of translations. Wagle, however, thinks Nepali literature must first try to be world class to be taken seriously by the world.“Rather than thinking of where we are on the world stage, I think it is important to develop our own voice first. Once we focus on developing a strong reading and writing culture, and on creating literature that represents the diversity of Nepal, only then can we think of taking it outside,” he says.Wagle can often be seen commuting to work on foot, taking gangly steps along the dusty sidewalks of Patan. It almost seems as if he is searching for the lost characters of his next novel so he can get them to behave themselves again.Read also<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/written-locally-read-globally/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">: Written locally, read globally</a>, Sewa Bhattarai

Novelist returns to non-fiction

<figure><img width="1400" height="1031" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107141112/636904bc9c7e80680e037d3djpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>UNDERPASS: It looks like you forgot that there is now a new law that forbids disclosure of the private information of public officials. Vatsyayan in Kantipur, 25 August</figcaption></figure>It has only been two weeks since Nepal’s new Penal Code criminalised photography (Section 295), slapped heavy fines and jail terms for recording conversations (Section 293), and announced strict punishment for sending, receiving or using online data (Section 298). Another privacy-related bill in Parliament will prohibit people from publishing personal information of public officials. But it has already had a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/suppressed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">chilling effect across the Nepali media</a>.A person who ridiculed the prime minister on Facebook was tracked down and arrested for photo-manipulating the prime minister's photo, which violates Section 295 of the Code. Editors of Nagarik, Annapurna Post and Kantipur were summoned to the Press Council for interrogation.Photojournalist Usha Titikshu was taking a photo of a damaged CCTV camera at an airport recently, when she was stopped. “Don’t you know the new rules about not taking photos?” she was warned.If enacted earlier, the new laws would have forced editors to spike their recent investigative reports on the Chief Justice’s doctored certificates, photos showing collusion between top politicians and medical college owners, and stories of corruption in high places.The Federation of Nepalese Journalists last week issued its Godavari Declaration demanding that the provisions be immediately rescinded. The International Federation of Journalists (IFJ), The Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), Reporters without Borders (RSF) and others <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/amend-criminal-code-rsf/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">all condemned the move</a>, demanding that Nepal adhere to the international standards and principles of freedom of expression.Although the constitution guarantees press freedom as an inviolable right, the laws try to enforce constitutional provisions protecting a citizen’s right to privacy more strictly, even extending it to public figures.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/strongman-rule/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Strongman rule</a>, Om Astha RaiPress adviser to the prime minister and former editor Kundan Aryal admits that a free press is important, but says the Nepali media has failed to self-regulate."Journalists do not rein themselves in, they feel free to make derogatory comments, especially about women. It is necessary to regulate the press,” he told Nepali Times. Such talk has already had a dampening effect, with editors and reporters now more wary of publishing information in the public interest. The fear is that the laws are so broadly defined and open to interpretation, anyone can be hauled over for anything.The crackdowns started coming thick and fast after the Nepal Communist Party government was elected to power in January: it consolidated the surveillance arms of the state in the PMO, proposed restrictions on advocacy through the National Integrity Policy, and banned popular areas for protest. Photographer Chandra Ale of Onlinekhabar recently faced questions when he was at Kalimati vegetable market where traders had locked up government inspectors. “A person asked me if I had permission to take photos. He followed me, and forced me to delete my pictures,” Ale relates.Photojournalist Usha Titikshu thinks there is a systematic plan to gag the media. “Threats to journalists are more common across South Asia, and we have not connected the dots to see that the same is happening in Nepal,” says Titikshu, citing the rape and deaths of journalists in India and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-death-of-democracy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the arrest of noted Bangladeshi photographer Shahidul Alam</a> who is being mistreated in jail. “We see our own government moving towards similar intolerance in Nepal.”Ujjwal Acharya, South Asia coordinator of IFJ and digital media watcher says: “Today one thinks twice before posting anything on social media. By the looks of it, the government intends to curtail all kinds of expression, especially investigative journalism.”Says Nagarik editor Gunaraj Luintel who answered an unprecedented summon from the Press Council: “It was overstepping its mandate, even asking me to explain a mistake in print to the parties involved. The council is only supposed to promote ethical journalism, but it has become an arm of the government. The aim is to increase censorship in a planned way.”Narayan Wagle, editor of Kantipur, was also summoned by the Press Council for the first time in his 30-year career, and says the it has outlived its usefulness.“The practice in democratic countries is that the government does not monitor the press. The press monitors itself through a code of ethics. But in Nepal, a new law about the Press Council is in the offing, which proves the government wants to further tighten the noose around the press.”Bikas Karki, president of Photo Journalists’ Club, agrees that the government’s real intention is control: “The Constitution has become like the elephant’s tusks, it is there just for show. The laws are the real teeth inside, which bite.”Nepal has gone through censorship before. The Panchayat system banned political parties, and the royal palace strictly controlled the press. In 2005, King Gyanendra tried to take the country back to those dark days. Some say the new Code is even worse than the Panchayat.“There were threats then, but they were verbal or even unspoken,” recalls photojournalist Gopal Chitrakar, who started out at Gorkhapatra during the Pancahayat. “I don’t remember such draconian measures. These new rules are in writing, they are backed by the law. That gives them legitimacy which is more dangerous.” Kundan Aryal reassured us that the Code and laws can always be amended. But this does not convince journalists who say the laws that restrict media freedom are inherently anti-democratic, unconstitutional and remove its check-and-balance function. Laws that are broadly defined are even more dangerous, and can be a path to authoritarianism.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/varying-press-freedom-in-burma,1261" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Too little, or too much freedom</a>, Kunda Dixit <h4>The right to say the emperor is naked</h4> Satire flourishes best and is most prolific when there are controls on free speech, and Haribansa Acharya should know. He says he performed his most fulfilling and creative skits during the Panchayat.“Saying ‘17 Sal’ out loud was banned, since it was the year of King Mahendra’s coup. So we got away by saying ‘the year between 16 and 18’,” remembers Acharya. “We also called Prime Minister Surya Bahadur Thapa ‘Gham’ instead of Surya. We played cat and mouse with the censors, and it was more fun and creative. Today’s satire seems to lack that art.”Satire, in fact, seems less necessary when there is full freedom, but it is a lifeline during restrictive times. Even during the absolutist Rana and Shah reigns, the royals knew citizens needed to let off a little steam. So, they allowed one day in a year on Gai Jatra (on 27 August this year)when people had freedom to say anything. <figure><img width="1200" height="841" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107141112/636904bf9c7e80680e037d3ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Culture expert Tejeswor Babu Gongah remembers Gai Jatra revelers burning an effigy of the Panchayat, an act that would have people locked up on any other day of the year."Humour is one space where you can raise issues that you cannot elsewhere, therein lies its power to question authority,” he adds.Some have noted that this year’s Gai Jatra seemed subdued, with fewer shows. On social media, there were comments that satirists had already started self-censoring because of the new Criminal Code.Satirist Manoj Gajurel, who has made a career out of lampooning kings, prime ministers and guerrilla commanders, says: “Humour has a social responsibility to carry the people’s message to authority when it refuses to listen to direct communication.”However, an elected government now wants to take away that right of Nepalis to poke fun at power. Section 306 of the Code specifically prohibits ‘satire’ and categorises it under libel, and Section 295 prohibits caricatures.“I feel a great sense of dread,” admits cartoonist Durga Baral, who went underground during the Panchayat but continued to produce cartoons under the pen-name Batsyayan, despite threats."Freedom of expression is our basic right, and if we are not free to speak out, it all gets bottled up inside.”Nepali cartoonists are pushing back. Last week, Rabin Sayami drew a savage cartoon that tore the government to shreds over its callousness in not investigating the Kanchanpur rape case, and killing a protester. It depicted a smiling Pushpa Kamal Dahal and a smug Prime Minister Oli with a smoking gun in his hand (above). The rapist holds a bloody knife, and has his back turned. Two photos of the rape victim and a dead protester hang on the wall.Sayami was warned by friends to be careful, and that he might be sent to jail. He says the cartoon was a test: “To see if we are still a democracy.”Read Also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saparu-the-festival-of-death-and-rebirt,2543" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Saparu</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11225#.W4fAI84zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Festival of death and satire</a>, Desmond DoigCode wordsWhile Nepal's journalistic community is up in the arms about the latest Criminal Code, lawyer Madhav Basnet says it is not as worrying as perceived, for the following reasons: <ul><li>The 1990 Constitution was the first one to clearly mention the right to privacy.</li><li>Nepal has a long history of laws against slander and libel, even in Jang Bahadur's Muluki Ain of 1853.</li><li>The Criminal Code does not specifically mention any profession like writers, journalists or photojournalists.</li><li>The conduct of journalists is covered by other laws related to the media, which remain unchanged. The Criminal Code mentions that it will not supersede laws relating to specific professions.</li><li>With social media, it is not just journalists and photographers who take photos, collect and disseminate information, but everyone. The Code is only prescribing limits for them.</li><li>The law, however, does apply to journalists if they are not transmitting through the mass media.</li><li>The Criminal Code is not the guarantor of freedom of expression, the Constitution is. That freedom is not without its limits, and the limits are also mentioned in the Constitution. However, nothing can take away that freedom. And if any law seems to infringe upon it, then there are Constitutional remedies.</li></ul>Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-has-press-freedom-but-no-freedom-after-press/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal has press freedom, but no freedom after press</a>, Shashank Shrestha

Gagging the press in installments

There were two Bhutans on display during Narendra Modi’s visit this month. The first: a trusted partner, modernising rapidly with Indian support, inaugurating hydroelectric projects, and signing healthcare deals. The second: a nation that <a href="https://www.fmreview.org/gazmere-bishwo/#:~:text=In%201990%2D91%2C%20about%20a,are%20therefore%20not%20Bhutanese%20citizens.">ethnically cleansed 17% of its population </a>and has never been held accountable.
Modi chose to see only the <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-concludes-bhutan-visit-with-prayers-for-peace-and-prosperity">first </a>during his <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-announces-rs-4000-cr-concessional-credit-line-to-fund-energy-projects-in-bhutan/articleshow/125253915.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&amp;utm_medium=text&amp;utm_campaign=cppst">11-12 November visit</a>, granting $450 million in credit, offering birthday tributes to Fourth King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, and inaugurating another hydropower project.
New Delhi has opted for strategic silence on Bhutan’s systematic persecution of the Lhotshampas in the 1990s. The displaced remain scattered across the world and in refugee camps in Nepal, their property seized, their citizenship revoked.&nbsp;
Now, on that same contested land Bhutan is building the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Gelephu Mindful City (GMC)</a>, a megaproject intended to <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-announces-inr-40-billion-credit-line-new-rail-links-and-land-for-bhutanese-temple-in-varanasi">connect directly to Indian infrastructure</a>. The victims are gone, and democratic India’s values remain conspicuously absent.&nbsp;
With no Lhotshampas left to challenge the official narrative and India unwilling to raise it, Bhutan continues to suppress dissent with impunity.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, social media influencer Raghu Pati Subedi was arrested on the Assam side of Gelephu after returning from a visit to relatives in India. His family members reportedly came under intense pressure, including threats of arrest, accusing them of hiding his whereabouts. After his arrest, he was transported to Thimphu and imprisoned.
This was not an isolated incident. It is part of systemic repression that first gained international attention in the 1990s, when over 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa were systematically stripped of their citizenship and forcibly exiled. This mass expulsion, which human rights organisations have characterised as ethnic cleansing, created a decades-long refugee crisis that continues to define the regional political and human rights landscape.&nbsp;
EXODUS
The Lhotshampa crisis of the 1990s was not a spontaneous event but the culmination of years of state-led discrimination. Through a series of legislative acts, notably the 1985 Citizenship Act and the 1989 Driglam Namzha, the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy, the Bhutanese state systematically dismantled the rights of its Nepali-speaking citizens.&nbsp;
The use of the Nepali language was suppressed, the traditional dress of the ruling ethnic group was mandated, and citizenship was revoked en masse, rendering a significant portion of the population stateless in their own homeland.
The new manuscript I am editing has harrowing accounts by the authors of those atrocities. The parallels with what happened to Subedi recently are striking and troubling, showing that even after 35 years the regime has not changed its spots. The methods may have evolved, but the repression against dissidents remains disturbingly consistent.
This refugee exodus was an immense and unasked-for burden on Nepal. Despite being a country grappling with its own political instability and limited resources, Nepal accommodated them on humanitarian grounds. Nepal has consistently advocated for a durable solution centered on the refugees’ right to safe, voluntary, and dignified repatriation.
For years, it engaged in bilateral talks with Bhutan, culminating in a joint verification process. However, these efforts ultimately foundered on what Nepal described as ‘continued rigidity and non-implementation of the agreed decisions by the Bhutanese side’.
Nepal fulfilled its moral and humanitarian duty, but the international community largely failed to hold Bhutan accountable. Bhutan’s rulers deflected global attention with the masterful narrative of Gross National Happiness (GNH), while the grim reality in the refugee camps persisted.&nbsp;
Ultimately, with repatriation proving impossible, Nepal acquiesced to a third-country resettlement program led by a group of eight countries, including the United States, Canada, and Australia. From 2007 to 2016, more than 113,500 Bhutanese refugees were resettled in <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/media/nepal-factsheet">one of the largest group resettlement programmes globally</a>, though 6,365 remain in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.
While this solution provided a lifeline for thousands, it was a tragic capitulation to Bhutan’s ethnic homogenisation project. The refugees’ right to return to their homeland has been denied. It is a cautionary tale about the limits of international diplomacy in the face of state intransigence.
Bhutan’s global brand is one of its most successful exports. The <a href="https://www.gnhcentrebhutan.org/">Gross National Happiness </a>doctrine, which promotes holistic well-being over just economic growth, has captivated the Western imagination and policymakers. It offers a vision of a mindful, environmentally conscious, and peaceful Himalayan kingdom. This carefully cultivated image has historically aimed to shield Bhutan from the level of scrutiny applied to other nations with similar human rights records.
The GNH facade, however, cracks under the weight of documented evidence. The same kingdom that champions ‘happiness’ has, for decades, maintained a justice system that human rights groups allege relies on torture, coerced confessions, and draconian laws to silence opposition.
The 1992 National Security Act, with its vague definitions of ‘treasonable acts’ against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (King, Country, and People), has been a primary tool for suppressing political dissent, particularly from the Lhotshampa.
Overlooked by the international community and ignored by global powers including India, in responding robustly to the ethnic cleansing of the 1990s sent a clear message to Thimphu: such actions could be undertaken with impunity. The monarchy emerged unscathed, its reputation burnished rather than tarnished.&nbsp;
This historical impunity now echoes in the case of Raghu Pati Subedi and the <a href="https://www.cijnepal.org/new-list-of-political-prisoners-expected-to-set-off-discussion-on-bhutans-human-rights-record">continued imprisonment of dozens of political prisoners</a> of conscience. The global community’s reluctance to challenge the GNH narrative has, in effect, become a form of complicity.
The arrest and sentencing of a social media influencer demonstrates how old tactics have been adapted for the digital age. Subedi, 40, was a new kind of threat to the state-controlled narrative and he had to be made an example of.&nbsp;
As the founder and administrator of the popular Facebook page ‘The Don of Asia’, he bypassed traditional, state-influenced media to speak directly to about 78,000 followers. His content, informational and satirical videos on rural poverty, corruption, and the GMC project, was the kind of social media activism that was deemed intolerable.
Subedi was arrested in early 2025 and sentenced to 24 years in prison. The charges allegedly stemmed from Subedi’s social media criticism of the GMC, a flagship project of Nepal-born Bhutanese fifth King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://thenewamericansmag.com/2024/11/18/the-kings-gelephu-mindfulness-city/#:~:text=Ganga%20Lamitare%2C%20who%20owns%20four,ancestors%20in%20building%20the%20nation.">Bhutanese refugees like Gangaram Lamitare</a>, the GMC represents a bitter irony, a development rising on their confiscated ancestral lands.&nbsp;
Gangaram, who owns four acres where the GMC’s international airport is now under construction, says: “Many people from villages fled at night in 1990, leaving everything behind to escape oppression. Now, the Bhutanese king and ministers are spreading falsehoods worldwide, calling this land vacant, which actually belongs to those forced to leave the country.”&nbsp;
There are signs that international support that has benefited Bhutan may be waning. The United Nations has become increasingly vocal and last year the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/documents/issues/detention-wg/opinions/session101/a-hrc-wgad-60-2024-bhutan-advance-edited-ve.pdf">UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the detention of several Bhutanese political prisoners was arbitrary and illegal under international law.&nbsp;
In April 2025 from a group of six UN human rights experts raised grave concerns about the use of torture, denial of fair trials, and the ‘severe chilling effect’ of Bhutan’s legal framework on civic space. These developments owe much to the consistent advocacy of the Hague-based Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) since its formation.
However, they also reflect broader shifts in international human rights scrutiny. This places Bhutan’s key international partners, particularly the European Union, in a critical position. Bhutan enjoys lucrative benefits under the EU’s ‘Everything but Arms’ trade scheme, which grants developing countries tariff-free access to the EU market contingent on respect for human rights.&nbsp;
The EU is also a significant provider of development aid to Bhutan which provides it with substantial leverage. In April 2025, members of the <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/saskiabricmont.bsky.social/post/3lmrn5mkmrs2q">European Parliament formally called on Bhutan</a> to release all political prisoners. This action signals a growing recognition that trade and partnership cannot be divorced from human rights obligations.&nbsp;
“Bhutan’s international partners and investors, including the EU, should make it clear that they expect Bhutan to comply with its human rights obligations and release them without further delay,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, of Human Rights Watch.&nbsp;
Bhutan stands at a crossroads. Its desire for deeper global economic integration is colliding with its unresolved history of human rights abuses. The international community now has a choice: either continue being charmed by the myth of a happy shangri-la or insist that the kingdom adheres to democratic values it professes to the world.&nbsp;
Nepal’s recent Gen-Z uprising offers a lesson to Bhutan. In September, when authorities attempted to ban 26 social media, Nepali youth took to the streets and, within hours, toppled the entire pro-establishment political apparatus. Their message was clear: in an age of digital connectivity and mass mobilisation, authoritarian tactics such as detaining social media influencers are both unjust and ultimately unsustainable.
This incident echoes the prophetic warnings of Devi Bhakta Lamitare, Bhutan’s first-generation democratic leader, who died in exile in India in 2022. In his seminal 1970 book
Dankindo Bhutan, Lamitare chronicled the systematic suppression of people’s rights and envisioned a path toward liberation.
Before his death, I worked with him to update and edit this work, which the Bhutan Media Society published posthumously in 2023. In a December 2020 interview I conducted for the book on the Ganga riverbank in Haridwar, Lamitare laid out a stark three-front offensive: political mobilisation from within India to awaken resistance inside Bhutan itself, relentless pressure on New Delhi to champion democracy, and a global ‘pamphlet war’ waged by resettled Bhutanese in the West.&nbsp;
Only through such sustained action, he argues, can Bhutanese citizens win the right to choose their own rulers, a principle India, the world’s largest democracy, should be championing, not abandoning.
Binod Dhungel is the Nepal correspondent for Reporters Without Borders.
<a href="http://linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod" target="_blank">linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod</a>, @BinodDhungel

Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

We often see ourselves reflected in the other. For someone who grew up in Kathmandu Valley in the eighties and nineties, this maxim comes alive with an even greater force. Nepal’s media ecosystem was dismal, the school curriculum was narrow and did not provide opportunities for creative expression. Perhaps that is why I became obsessed with MTV videos and Bollywood films. I saw my developing self reflected in these story-lines and razzmatazz. When the media and education system do not engage the public and reflect myriad interests, aspirations and lifestyles of the population, citizens get detached and disconnected from their roots. I left for America for further studies, and was somewhat determined to never return to Nepal. It was a country full of potholes and black-outs. But foreigners have been fascinated with our country for decades. In the early 19th century, Francis Buchanan-Hamilton led a pioneering expedition and documented more than a thousand species of plants native to the region. Almost a century later, in 1905, Frenchman Sylvan Levi published ‘the first attempt to produce a comprehensive study of Nepal’, drawing on not just indigenous but available Chinese and European sources as well. After Nepal opened up in the 1950s, different kinds of foreigners have traveled here -- most notably, cold-war era spies disguised as diplomats, and later came the hippies. I returned to Nepal in 2013 and was primarily struck by two major demographics - the artists and the expats. Energised by the recent revolution, the creatives were making vibrant, powerful works. The expats, on the other hand, demonstrated a different way to navigate life in Kathmandu Valley. These two groups of people re-introduced Nepal to me and I began seeing my country and my hometown with a renewed perspective. Which is why one particular image from Giovanna Caruso’s ongoing show at the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank">Kalā</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank"> Salon</a> curated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/facades-and-flowers-from-nepal-to-italy" target="_blank">Sophia L Pandé</a> instantly caught my attention -- rather, it called out to me, as if it was composed for me, framing a key moment from my own life. Its title is, coincidentally, 2013. Like most of her other works, the pen-and-ink drawing is punctuated by an explosion of watercolour: a woman standing confidently in front of a Newa-style house, a leg arched up, as if she is fixing a strap around an ankle before stepping out on an adventure. The watercolour depicts a rainbow streaming out of a pot through a second-floor window. The rest of the details are rendered in realism – clusters of garlic and onion hanging to dry from the rafters, and further down a stack of corn. There are towels drying, even an old water pump.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="art review Kala Salon"> </figure>  When I walked over to this artwork with Caruso, she chuckled, “Ah, this work is a celebration of my 30 years in Nepal.” It was while trying to calm a restless group of students during her teaching days in Italy that Caruso first came across an iconic image of Kathmandu Darbar Square. She had found an old box of slides and while projecting images from the Himalaya to engage her students, the artist was determined to travel to Nepal. The first flat she rented was close to the square and the view from her rooftop was the same as the one she had encountered inside her classroom. She has been traveling to Nepal every year since. Some of her favourite drawings depict Khokana in morning fog. From 1993-2006, she drew murals at Ram Mandir and Pashupatinath, asking sadhus to guide her and correct her depictions. Caruso received a classical education, which means she was trained to focus on perspective and geometry while capturing mainly portraits and still lives. She is influenced by M C Escher and his explorations of mathematics and symmetry. No wonder she finds the Darbar Square architecture so compelling. She also names as inspiration Gustave Dore, whose style is different from Escher’s and I can see how she has fused these influences in her body of work: Escher’s austerity complimented and slightly dislodged by Dore’s comics and caricatures. “Before starting, the painting needs to be complete in my mind,” she explains as we pass a series of portraits titled Saraswati, Lakshmi, Kali Dancing, and Durga dominated by a roaring tiger. “These are all real people, I ask my friends and family members to sit for me.” The Kali in the drawing has the artist’s fiery copper red hair and she is dancing, surrounded by various men with flowing hair. The artist seems to have experimented here, drawing the revelers from above, and indulging in playful abandon. Depictions of Nepal are often in danger of being exoticised. But Caruso is familiar with her subjects, knows our alleys and temples intimately. Her colours and compositions are passionate and dense. In an essay, Anirudh S Chari writes the artist’s work is splashed with rapturous energy and most drawings have a carnivalesque element. ‘Kali Dancing’ illustrates this idea perfectly in that she has turned Kali’s usual fearsome portrayal on its head by depicting and embracing another feminine principle - the capacity to celebrate and create joy. Apart from drawing inspiration from Hindu goddesses and Nepal’s multi-colored rituals, Caruso has also drawn the Sumerian Ianna and Lillith and the Egyptian Nut. She enjoys drawing Nataraja, and says it is because “Shiva is a good husband”. We stand another painting titled 100 Days a Lion. “There is a saying in Italian, Better one day as a lion than a hundred days as a sheep, but I thought why not 100 Days a Lion?” This sentiment captures this nomadic artist’s spirit spanning four decades, in which she has captured urban energy as well as the sacred imagery of ‘life diaries on canvas’. From Venezia to Kathmandu and Journeys In Between Giovanna Caruso The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre Mall, Thamel Till 12 December 10am- 8pm

Looking at Nepal from Venice

The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

Too little snow, too much rain

The September protests and worry about what is in store for Nepal in 2026 have added more uncertainty to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-to-use-its-money-better">struggling economy</a>. Real estate transactions are stagnant, industries are operating below capacity because of declining domestic demand, the construction sector is slack, and investors are in wait-and-watch mode. In contrast, total bank deposits increased by Rs124 billion in the month before mid-October to Rs7.4 trillion. Official remittance inflows hit a record $13 billion in the past year. Nepal’s banks are flush with cash, with nowhere to put it. &nbsp; “The economy has flatlined. Non-performing assets are up, and real estate is at a standstill,” said Ashoke SJB Rana, CEO of Himalayan Bank.“There is excess liquidity in the market, with not many places to invest.” The main reason seems to be that both <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/relocate-reallocate-recover">domestic and foreign investors were spooked</a> by the targeted violence of 9 September, and are so worried about the runup to elections in March that they are holding on to their wallets. Not just businesses, the political uncertainty is keeping individuals &nbsp;from making big financial decisions.&nbsp; Sujeev Shakya, author of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/retrofitting-nepal-for-future-shocks">newly-released book Nepal 2043</a>, notes that the current doldrum is due to Nepalis playing it safe with their money. &nbsp; “People are holding on to their assets, and keeping their cash,” he says. “They are not investing in real estate, and avoiding buying gold because it is so volatile.”&nbsp; One sector in which banks have a lot of exposure is hydroelectricity, but even here recent floods have shown that this investment is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/global-warning-bell-in-belem">increasingly at risk from climate breakdown</a>.&nbsp; Nabil Bank, with its focus on sustainable banking, for instance, has financed 56 hydropower projects with an installed capacity of 3,000MW.&nbsp; Says Nabil CEO Manoj Kumar Gyawali: “We cannot ignore unpredictable rainfall, increased glacier melt, more frequent glacier lake outburst floods, and landslides. These risks mean that while hydropower is essential, Nepal must diversify its energy mix." &nbsp;&nbsp; An open secret in the banking sector is that much of the liquidity is supected laundered money. Banks also have close ownership links with big businesses, and this means that even with a slow economy, banks lend to themselves or to each other to keep transaction volumes up.&nbsp; This is one reason for a high default rate. In the first three months of this fiscal year, 4.86% of bank loans were non-performing, meaning one out of about every 20 borrowers had defaulted. A year ago, this figure was 4.04%. Banks are therefore reluctant to lend, dampening the overall investment climate. &nbsp; Ironically, the high default rate is keeping mainstream newspapers in Nepal afloat at a time when the media business is also in crisis. Even as they suffer from a massive drop in advertising revenue, most daily newspapers often add pages to fit notices to borrowers about repayment, or announcements of bank auctions of collateral property. “While banks may be making a much smaller percentage of income compared to a few decades ago, they are still making a profit,” notes Shakya. “And so they are actually quite happy to be in this low-risk situation. Banks are conservative organisations after all.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251128041136_b33dd18d7ce221e273bd18d8a5c4ba4c9196f762b95b87fd24c60df6c2426065.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251128041136_b33dd18d7ce221e273bd18d8a5c4ba4c9196f762b95b87fd24c60df6c2426065" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1022" loading="lazy" alt="Banks"> <figcaption>Illustration: BHANU BHATTARAI / NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Among the most striking videos of the September protests that was shared globally by tens of millions of people was the Hilton and Hyatt hotels and the Ncell building burning. That recognisable international brands were targeted did not just cause huge losses to owners, but also damaged Nepal’s overall investment climate. Looting Bhat-Bhateni and homes of businessmen also sent a negative message, spurring capital flight.&nbsp; “That was very bad optics for potential investors, you simply worry about the security of your investment when you see things like that,” says Himalayan Bank CEO Ashoke SJB Rana.&nbsp; Nepal will graduate to Middle Income Country status next year, and donors are set to move from aid to private investment. While this could reduce misuse of money, it could dry up grants and soft loans to the health and education sectors.&nbsp; But the harm may go deeper than just the aftermath of the September events. The recent<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/double-trouble-with-taxes"> double taxation issue</a> involving the Dolma Impact Fund, and an earlier controversy over Ncell’s capital gains tax have also put Nepal’s business climate in negative spotlight internationally.&nbsp; The banking sector is firmly on the side of investors. Says Ashoke Rana at Himalayan Bank: “This is a tax regime, it is absurd to order the payment of these taxes retrospectively. When investors see that the rules of the game can change arbitrarily, they won’t really want to put their money here. ” &nbsp; One of the positive changes in the ways Nepalis are using money is digital transactions through QR codes and mobile banking. With smartphones making up 70% of all mobile phones, QR transactions are easy and have become a part of daily life. ONLINE BANKING&nbsp; Most businesses and ride shares have this feature on board, and people do not need to carry a lot of cash or multiple bank cards. But as digital payments become the norm, the days of free transactions may be coming to an end.&nbsp; “Right now these transactions are free for the most part. This is a subsidy by the banks, because of course, it does cost something to make sure the payments go through,” says Rana at Himalayan Bank. “However, as income decreases, banks may have to look for ways to make money, so they may charge small percentages on each QR transaction.”&nbsp; Rapid digitisation has changed not only how customers use money, but also how banks think about their offices. Himalayan Bank’s new Thamel branch, for example, has cancelled plans to redesign the office for 20 tellers.&nbsp; “We realised that people were able to do so much of what they wanted digitally that we plan to have only four tellers,” says Rana.&nbsp; But cutting down on facilities and staff has not always made for a better customer experience at some bank branches.&nbsp; Economist Sujeev Shakya conducts ghost customer experience checks for banks which involves decoys entering banks to evaluate what it is like for somebody to set up a bank account.&nbsp; The stealth missions found that standards of service have regressed, with banks having a working environment reminiscent of government offices.&nbsp; Shakya points out that the general experience of going to the bank should be much better. “Sometimes it’s a knowledge issue -- banks may try to ask for non-disclosure contracts even when they don’t know why they want them,” he says.&nbsp; Despite digitisation, many banks still require paper-based forms and documents. Bankers and customers alike note that it feels archaic, almost absurd, to have to carry multiple copies of documents, sometimes only in Nepali lokta paper, across several family members and fill out what seems to be the same form over and over even though digital files exist. That could soon be changing as well. As more and more Nepalis adopt the National ID, banks have adopted pilot programs that use it to create bank accounts, replacing the myriad documents that customers had to previously present to officials, making all banking transactions more efficient and less of a hassle for the customer.&nbsp; DIGITAL SECURITY As Nepalis move their cash online, digital infrastructure needs to become more secure as well.&nbsp; Bankers spend quite a lot to make sure necessary digital security infrastructure is in place, but some banks could be using pirated software which are not trustworthy.&nbsp; There has to be better regulatory oversight to prevent phishing and fraud as online payments and digital banking spread across Nepal.&nbsp; Banks must also be innovative and ambitious. Says Shakya: “Nowhere else in South Asia are bank loans such a high ratio of the nation’s GDP. &nbsp;This actually points to a well-developed financial system and we have to take advantage of it."&nbsp; Shakya also notes that many bank executives in foreign countries, like Myanmar are actually Nepali, and that banks from Nepal could use their staff and know-how to partner with or acquire banks overseas.&nbsp; While these innovations are all welcome, it is unclear how Nepal's banking sector can jumpstart economic activity in the country. Nepal’s political future looks uncertain and stability is not a guarantee.&nbsp; In the face of continuing progress in hydro electricity and the IT sector seems to be the way forward to stimulate the economy.&nbsp; The GenZ movement was a wakeup call also to financial institutions and the need for greater transparency. Nabil Bank CEO Manoj Kumar Gyawali says the September protests sent a clear message that young Nepalis want an end to corruption, good governance, and real opportunities at home: "The banking sector has a &nbsp;responsibility to direct more lending toward the real economy, sectors that create jobs, build productivity, and strengthen long-term growth," he says.&nbsp; Despite a subdued investment climate, Gyawali is optimistic. "I do see early signs of improvement. Lower interest rates are beginning to restore public and business confidence. Rising remittances provide a safety net and fresh investment capacity for households," he says. "If government capital expenditure continues to improve, it will boost private sector activity."&nbsp;

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