<figure><img width="1050" height="655" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba4659c7e80680e073666jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Prime Minister K P Oli launching the sale of shares for the Trisuli B hydroelectric project in March 2019, the first in the government’s Nepal’s Water, Nepalis’ Investment initiative. Energy Minister Barshaman Pun is on the right. Photo: PMO</figcaption></figure>Nepal’s hydropower sector, already stymied <a href="https://www.google.com/url?client=internal-element-cse&amp;cx=011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4&amp;q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-hydroelectricity-sector-gets-covid-19-shock/&amp;sa=U&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjFu_bFg__qAhUF_XMBHfAqAvUQFjAEegQIAxAC&amp;usg=AOvVaw0B_tYwmRm1tHBUVUnLifjc" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.google.com/url?client%3Dinternal-element-cse%26cx%3D011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4%26q%3Dhttps://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-hydroelectricity-sector-gets-covid-19-shock/%26sa%3DU%26ved%3D2ahUKEwjFu_bFg__qAhUF_XMBHfAqAvUQFjAEegQIAxAC%26usg%3DAOvVaw0B_tYwmRm1tHBUVUnLifjc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1596609376589000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEMkbfjV65U5ipi9fjYZ4myWul1Bg">by decades of construction delays </a>and budget constraints, is seeing its flagship Nepal’s Water, Nepalis’ Investment initiative pushed back further due to this year’s destructive monsoon rains and the economic fallout of the COVID-19 crisis.The initiative was part of the government’s ambitious masterplan to generate 15,000MW in ten years from 21 hydroelectric projects, and raise the income of Nepali shareholders in the process.“Nepal will have an energy surplus and see its economy grow, while the projects will bring the public quick rewards and allow them to prosper as well,” said the Energy Minister while launching the initiative in March last year.  <figure><img width="1500" height="839" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba4689c7e80680e073667jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Some of the proposed projects under the Nepal’s Water, Nepalis’ Investment which will offer shares to the public to invest in: 1st row, left-right: Ghunsa Khola (72MW), Simbuwa Khola (70MW), Tamakosi-5 (96MW) Upper Trisuli 3-B (27MW). 2nd Row: Kimathangka Arun (482MW), Upper Arun (725MW), Ikhuwa (30MW), Arun 4 (372MW) 3rd row: Budi Gandaki Gwar Khola (60MW), Budi Gandaki Prok 1 (100MW), Budi Gandaki Prok 2 (240MW) Budi Gandaki A (75MW)</figcaption></figure>It was a bold target and a challenging task to sell shares to the public, but it was an attempt to make up for lost time on power projects delayed by the 2015 earthquake and the Indian Blockade. However, no one could have predicted that the country would face an even more serious crisis this year with the global pandemic.While landslides and flash floods this monsoon as well as the COVID-19 lockdown have taken a year off construction schedules, the global economic downturn is also expected to reduce the public's ability to invest in shares and attract foreign joint ventures in the hydropower projects. Even so, CEO Chhabiraj Pokharel of the Hydropower Investment and Development Company Limited (HIDCL) says the plan is to start construction on all 21 projects in the next four years so as to meet the intrim target of generating 3,500MW in five years.Despite his optimism, only one of the projects, the Upper Trisuli-3 (60MW), which went into operation in November, has been commissioned in the past year-and-half since the initiative was launched amidst much fanfare by Prime Minister Oli.The 111MW Rasuwagadi and 57MW Upper Sanjen are nearing completion, and have released shares to employees. Another project is halfway, but the other 14 have not gotten off the ground.  <figure><img width="1631" height="550" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba46b9c7e80680e073668jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Rasuwagadhi Project site (111MW) on the Trisuli River, where construction has begun. </figcaption></figure>Even though many of these projects were delayed due to existing bureaucratic and technical hurdles, the government is blaming the COVID-19 crisis. Says Madhu Prasad Bhetuwal, convenor of the Nepal’s Water, Nepalis’ Investment initiative: “All the projects had been pushed back by six months already due to the COVID-19 crisis, and another six months because of the rainy season.”Nevertheless, the government’s plan is to begin construction on Upper Arun (725MW), Kimathangka Arun (482MW), Phukot Karnali (492MW), Tamakosi-5 (96MW), Chainpur Seti (201MW), and Jagadulla (157MW) as soon as the monsoon is over. Of these, Tamakosi-5 is putting shares up for sale to the public, now that its engineering and design work is complete. The modalities for the Rs33 billion Bheri-Babai Diversion Multipurpose Program are also complete. This project will irrigate 51,000ha in the eastern Tarai, while also generating 48.6MW of electricity. Five percent of the shares of this project will be open to local people, Karnali provincial government will have 20%, the project itself will have 26%, and the central government will have majority shares of 49%.  <figure><img width="1500" height="834" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba46e9c7e80680e073669jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Bheri-Babai tunnel that will irrigate 51,000ha in the western Tarai, and generate 48MW of electricity.</figcaption></figure>The government’s plan is that 51% of the Nepal’s Water, Nepalis’ Investment initiative will be funded by the government, while 49% will have the public’s investment. Of this, 70% will be loan financed, while 30% will be paid for by investment in equities. Of that 30%, a little more than half will be bought up by the government while 49% will be public.Government agencies are also being directed to allocate funds for the initiative. The Employees’ Provident Fund, Citizens Investment Fund, HIDCL, Nepal Telecom, National Insurance Institute, Nepal Police, Nepal Army and the Armed Police Force have all been directed to invest Rs1-6 billion per year in the initiative. The total cost of the 21 projects is estimated to exceed Rs700 billion -- which is equal to more than half the annual national budget of Nepal. Banks and financial institutions have a 10% ceiling on hydropower investment in their total portfolio, and this is enough to only fund 50MW production every year. This means the most serious obstacle to the initiative will now be the funding crunch. This has been exacerbated by the fall in government revenue due to the pandemic, as seen in this<a href="https://www.google.com/url?client=internal-element-cse&amp;cx=011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4&amp;q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-unveils-covid-19-budget/&amp;sa=U&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjFu_bFg__qAhUF_XMBHfAqAvUQFjAFegQIARAC&amp;usg=AOvVaw0IyIrqaRrWGvlcvL74WQUS" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.google.com/url?client%3Dinternal-element-cse%26cx%3D011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4%26q%3Dhttps://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-unveils-covid-19-budget/%26sa%3DU%26ved%3D2ahUKEwjFu_bFg__qAhUF_XMBHfAqAvUQFjAFegQIARAC%26usg%3DAOvVaw0IyIrqaRrWGvlcvL74WQUS&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1596609376589000&amp;usg=AFQjCNF97_uq5VhqvzbTa4EA79zdsQsuyQ"> fiscal year’s budget.</a> The government could rely on foreign loans and multilateral creditors, but they are also affected by the global recession.Normal hydropower regulations only allow for shares to be released once construction is half-complete. Under the provisions of the initiative, shares and IPOs (Initial Public Offerings) can be released once 10% of project funding is used.  <figure><img width="600" height="677" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba4759c7e80680e07366ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Construction site of the Upper Trisuli 3B (37MW), one of the projects delayed by the COVID-19 lockdown.</figcaption></figure>Convenor Bhetuwal says construction of the 21 hydropower projects were deliberately staggered, keeping in mind the rise in nationwide energy demand. He adds: “Generating 3,500MW at once will lead to a glut in the market, may overwhelm consumers and waste energy, that is why projects are going into production in a phase-wise manner.” This is a legitimate concern, because national demand for electricity has dropped during he lockdown, prompting Nepal Electricity Authority Director Kul Man Ghising to call out the government on its U-turn on encouraging demand for electricity consumption, <a href="https://www.google.com/url?client=internal-element-cse&amp;cx=011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4&amp;q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-takes-3-steps-back-on-e-cars/&amp;sa=U&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjm3tT5g__qAhWd8HMBHRiHBzkQFjAAegQIBRAC&amp;usg=AOvVaw1WVWH_378BaBmM7FzPie46" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.google.com/url?client%3Dinternal-element-cse%26cx%3D011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4%26q%3Dhttps://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-takes-3-steps-back-on-e-cars/%26sa%3DU%26ved%3D2ahUKEwjm3tT5g__qAhWd8HMBHRiHBzkQFjAAegQIBRAC%26usg%3DAOvVaw1WVWH_378BaBmM7FzPie46&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1596609376589000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHFj7LD-yfyCCJ0ZeVWqLFX6NH2zw">including a hike on e-vehicle taxes. </a>

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Generating electricity (and cash) for Nepalis

<figure><img width="680" height="453" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b8a0a9c7e80680e06b21bjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Nepal Police making an arrest using multifunctional rescue and arrest device during the lockdown. Photo: RSS</figcaption></figure>The calls started coming at 10:30 at night on 30 March, a week into the coronavirus lockdown. It was Jib Narayan Chaudhary, and he sounded frantic. Knowing I was a journalist, the day labourer was calling for help from the Koteswor traffic police office where he and 22 other co-workers were being held by police who would not let them travel to their homes in Saptari district. He said he had a police travel permit.I called the Koteswor police station, and the duty in-charge Sudarshan Thapa said: “People do not understand that lockdown means lockdown. You cannot leave the Valley.”<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/walking-3-days-to-get-home/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Walking 3 days to get home</a>, Sanjay MishraIn fact, Thapa said the rules had changed that day, and a permit did not suffice anymore. Travellers also needed a yellow card from the CDO office. Chaudhary and his friends did finally get the card from the Lalitpur District Office and got home on 2 April, after surviving on dry noodles and little money during their long bus journey.“If we had known that the government would extend the lockdown, we would have made other arrangements. It is always poor people like us who suffer the most in any national emergency,” Chaudhary told me.We were at the Lalitpur District Office (LDO) in Man Bhawan where there were many kinds of people caught in a lurch by the change in travel rules. Jit Jung Rana Magar from Sindhupalchowk, looked fed up. He needed to leave because his wife is alone with an infant and a two-year-old daughter. “I have to be there for them. The office asked me to get all the related documents yesterday but now they need more documents,” Rana Magar said, looking lost. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/lockdown-guidelines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lockdown guidelines</a>In a corner stood 31-year-old Chinna Maya Tamang who had just lost her 65-year-old mother in Dolalghat that morning. “I have to go home for my mother’s death rites, I don’t know what will happen with the new rules,” she said. By 10 in the morning, it had turned into a crowd at the LDO, while the policemen at the gate tried to separate them for physical distancing. Some were screaming to allow them in, others shouted through their masks to be allowed in. Suresh Thapa, the policeman was trying, not successfully, to calm the crowd. He said: “My body already feels sick. We also fear for our families, but it's our job to follow the rules.” The people here needed to travel for family emergencies, or because unlike the better-off they had run out of money and food. To travel during the lockdown they needed a permit, and the rules had just been changed. No one seemed to know what the rules were.“Confusion, confusion, confusion, why can’t there be an effective system?” fumed Rana Magar. “Sometimes, they say they need white pass, sometimes yellow and sometimes just an application.” <a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/lockdown-limbo-in-no-mans-land/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lockdown limbo in no man's land</a>, Deepak KharelWhile some people continue to walk around at all times of day, others are snared by the ominously-named ‘Multifunctional Rescue and Arrest Device’ and locked up for three hours on the street. Others seem to be able to wangle travel permits fairly easily, while others pay vegetable truck drivers to hide in the back.The lockdown is supposed to end on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-covid-19-lockdown-extended-till-7-april/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tuesday 7 April at midnight</a>  and may be extended further. The desperation of ordinary people trapped in the city is greater than ever, and so is the confusion about what is allowed and what is not. Is it ok to walk out to shop for food? Can I head out to the pharmacy? What if I have a medical emergency?  I called the emergency hotline by dialling 100 just to clarify. “You can leave the house in the morning and evening, maybe just for an hour,” said the operator. But the police do not seem to know that. Maiya Nepal, 60, is a household help and was detained by police while shopping for groceries at 8:30 in the morning. “Thank god, I wasn’t asked to become a chicken for hours,” she said, alluding to the practice of police punishing people by making them do sit-ups in the middle of the street. “the police need to be sure about the rules and not punish us.”LOCKDOWN DO’S AND DONT’S As far as we could figure out from official sources, here is a list of what is allowed and not allowed during the lockdown. This list is not exhaustive, nor is there any guarantee that police themselves know the rules.According to a statement published by the Home Ministry:  <ol><li>The responsibility to ensure essential supplies is with local governments.</li><li>Everyone should maintain at least a 1m gap while visiting a store. </li><li>The ward chief to head a committee made up of police to decide on maintaining essential services.</li><li>The committee should trace daily wagers and support them with provisions.</li><li>Shops to create daily packages of essential items, depending on size of families. </li><li>Charities and social welfare groups should coordinate with ward office and the committee. </li><li>Organisations and individuals not allowed to raise money using the lockdown as excuse. </li><li>Double distribution prohibited. </li><li>The Ministry of Finance, Commerce and Health should ensure the supply of essential items and distribute them evenly to all. </li></ol>Statement by the Metropolitan City District offices:<ol><li>Funeral vehicles do not need permits. Except for security vehicles, public and private transport should be off the roads.</li><li>Only essential services like health, security, food supply, water supply, dairy, electricity, telecommunication, news and information, customs, quarantine, waste management will be in operation. All others to stay home.</li><li>People can still go out, but only for urgent medical reasons or to buy food.</li><li>Home delivery services will be given permits for Kathmandu Valley.</li><li>Department stores will be allowed to open for ‘certain hours’ in the morning and evening. </li><li>No vehicles or persons will be allowed to leave Kathmandu Valley unless it is a family emergency like deaths or pregnancies.  </li><li>All others need verification from municipalities and have it attested by the district offices.  </li></ol>Rules for vehicle permits: <ol><li>The application should be signed in red ink. </li><li>A clear description of why the permit is needed.</li><li>Duration of the permit.</li><li>Name and designation should be clearly mentioned.</li><li>The ward office and police must approve the application. </li><li>According to the subject and circumstances different colour permits will be issued. </li><li>Local authorities can over-ride permit if it is misused.</li></ol>Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/home-health-care-during-a-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Home health care during lockdown</a>, Alisha Sijapati

Confusion persists about lockdown rules

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Amidst the euphoria in Nepal about the RSP’s landslide victory, the party’s future government, possibly led by Balendra Shah will plunge headlong into an energy and economic crisis sparked by the war in West Asia. Nepal gets all its diesel, petrol, gas and aviation fuel from India and lacks a strategic stockpile to buffer against shortages. The United States has unsanctioned Russian crude oil to India for one month, but India will only export refined petroleum products to Nepal after meeting its own domestic demand. As it is, India has only 10 days of stockpile of cooking gas and it is giving preference to household use. Energy experts say new oil and gas supplies from Russia and elsewhere will take another month to arrive at Indian ports. “This conflict didn’t develop overnight, yet we did nothing to augment our reserves. Clearly, we didn’t manage procurement anticipating supply disruptions,” says economist Pushkar Bajracharya. The conflict has escalated, seriously disrupting global petroleum supplies. Nearly 20% of the world’s oil and gas moves out of the Strait of Hormuz which is now blocked. The Persian Gulf makes up most of the oil and liquified natural gas supplied to Japan (75%), India (50%) and China (38%). Crude oil prices have nearly doubled to $100 a barrel this week.&nbsp; “This crisis is only going to intensify, so in the short term, it means fuel prices will increase as will the cost of goods and services,” adds Bajracharya. “This doesn’t bode well for the new government, especially when people have such high expectations from it.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1315" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Strait of Hormuz NT"> </figure>  Fuel stoppages from India have happened before, notably during the 2015 Blockade. But Nepal could be better placed this time to cushion the shock because of the proliferation of battery-operated vehicles, and electrification of household cooking to some extent. “The increase in electric vehicles provides some relief, but it is not enough,” says energy economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “Most critical services still run on diesel, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”&nbsp; Nepal’s expanding road network means diesel and petrol consumption is also increasing. If the war drags on, there will be a critical shortage of aviation fuel that could also hurt tourism at the start of the trekking and mountaineering season. There is already a nationwide shortage of cooking gas which is used by 62% of Nepali households. &nbsp; The fuel crisis will have a knock-on effect on the economy which the RSP government will have to tackle on an emergency footing as soon as it comes into office. The priority would be to cap fuel prices with subsidies, control hoarding, and in the longer term expedite the switch to electricity for transportation and cooking.&nbsp; MONEY IN The other impact will be on jobs in West Asia and remittances. Nearly half the $11 billion a year Nepalis send home every year comes from West Asian countries. Nepal’s hard currency reserves have hit a record high $21.09 billion, but that cash will be of no use if there is no fuel to buy. A sharp drop in remittances due to the collapse of the economies of the Gulf states if the war is prolonged will have a multiplier impact particularly on Nepalis' household expenses and the country’s economy in general. This in turn will have a knock-on effect on investment, and affect the RSP government’s main agenda which is to create jobs at home. The vicious cycle will then mean that more Nepalis will want to migrate for overseas jobs, but options in the Gulf may not be available. The RSP’s ministers in government will have to come up with innovative ways to re-integrate Nepalis forced to return because they lose their jobs, or for safety reasons. There are nearly 2 million Nepalis across the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and another 7,000 mainly women caregivers in Israel. “Other than the impact on remittances and the economy, there could be the additional challenge of rescuing over 2 million Nepalis in West Asia if it comes to that,” says Bajracharya. “We don’t have the resources, and we will have to rely on India’s logistical help.” The RSP’s main vote bank was among global Nepalis, who could not cast &nbsp;ballots themselves but influenced families and friends back home to choose the party. Social media was abuzz with slogans that promoted how choosing the RSP would bring their children back home from the Gulf. “The RSP got a majority, and that’s a good thing but voters came together to oppose UML, NC and the Maoists. But there is no clear ideology or philosophy, so while their slogan to bring Nepalis back from the Gulf sounds nice, what would they come back to?” asks Gyawali. The Nepali diaspora in the Gulf that influenced the electorate so effectively will now be looking at how the government it helped get to power in Kathmandu will help as war engulfs the region.&nbsp; There is an almost unrealistically high expectation of the RSP, and the party may not even get the customary 100-day honeymoon period. The cabinet could be put together easily enough, but the bureaucracy, judiciary, police, and the Upper House are all populated by loyalists of the old parties. Despite bad blood, the RSP will have to work together with all parties in the face of the crisis unleashed by the war. And Nepal’s politicised foreign policy must be galvanised to deal with the crisis.

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible While premium beauty product outlets were closing during the Covid-19 pandemic, two young women gambled on setting up a new skin and haircare brand with natural ingredients mostly sourced from Nepal and suited for the Nepali complexion. Arushree Sharma Khatiwada and Megha Agarwal were batchmates in school before they left for studies abroad, returning to set up Avani Nepal after year-long rigorous research into ayurveda-based cosmetic products. Avani in Sanskrit means ‘earth’, and as the name suggests it is committed to bringing all natural, pure and authentic range of beauty solutions.&nbsp; “We found a gap in the Nepali market demand for cosmetics, which is why we decided on a brand sourced from all-natural Himalayan herbs that are not used or explored properly,” says co-founder Khatiwada.&nbsp; Nepal is a treasure trove for medicinal plants and those with therapeutic properties. After all, legend has it that Hanuman flew right across the subcontinent from Sri Lanka to the Himalaya to find a rare medicinal plant to save the life of Lord Ram, who was wounded in battle. When he could not find the specific plant, he tore off a whole mountain and brought it down. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Looking good by doing good</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="2012" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Medicinal plants in Nepal range from yarsagumba to jatamasi and 500 other species traditionally used in the Ayurveda as well as now in the wellness industry. Avani is also trying to experiment hibiscus, Himalayan honey and other plants to eventually launch an export drive. Running a business in Nepal is no easy task, especially for small scale locally crafted products but in a few years, Avani has ammased loyal customer base and have many repeat customers. “While it was tricky initially, we were determined to launch our products with the best quality ingredients and in an affordable price range,” says Khatiwada. Following a worldwide trend and emulating the method used by Korean cosmetic brands, Avani has deployed celebrities and influencers to increase its outreach through tikTok , Facebook and YouTube. &nbsp;Actresses Barsha Shiwakoti and Shilpa Maskey and makeup artists like Lemi have reviewed their products favourably. Sutainability is a big part of the brand, and Avani uses glass bottles, cardboard boxes, paper bags for all its products. Plastic use is cut to a minimum, and where used is recycled.&nbsp; “Many people think that sustainable brands are expensive, we want to bust that myth,” Khatiwada told us. “We focus on being eco-friendly using ethically sourced materials that are paraben, silicon, and cruelty free.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/proud-to-wear-dolpo">Proud to wear DOLPO</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49" data-rendition-name="original" width="1048" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Avani has expanded its business to get a toehold in Nepal’s tourism and wellness industry, and the products are carried by spas in leading hotels and resorts in Kathmandu and Pokhara such as the Terraces, Marriott, and Kavya resort, and is in talk with the Hideaway Resort in Pokhara.&nbsp; The skin and haircare brand that initially started with 10 products has since expanded its line to 60 with goods placed in more than 100 stores across Kathmandu. Plans are in the works to expand to India, China and in Japan partnering with Okada. Avani Nepal’s founders say that they support empowerment through employment and training opportunities for women at the company. Khatiwada herself has been engaged with organisations such as Nepal Women Chamber of Commerce, and Nepal Youth Entrepreneur Forum. Additional support from the government such as the provision of lower excise duties has helped but guidance for export and other business regulations is as crucial. Such an environment would also foster opportunities for the youth who are otherwise moving away for jobs or study abroad. “While everyone is trying to go abroad, opportunities can be created here in Nepal itself, with adequate support from the government,” says Khatiwada. “In the meantime, we are eyeing for long term benefits. We are trying to create a legacy for cosmetic brands in Nepal.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/java-in-the-himalaya-y1ilc21h">Java in the Himalaya</a>, Vishad Raj Onta

nepal-covid-19-lockdown

Generating electricity (and cash) for Nepalis

Confusion persists about lockdown rules

RSP’s activist DNA

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers

Redefining the criteria for beauty