<img width="500" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372043d9c7e80680e0b284fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><img width="1000" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372043f9c7e80680e0b2850jpeg.jpg" alt="">Photos: BIKRAM RAI/NEPALI TIMESEarthquakes are inevitable in Nepal. It is not a question of ‘if’, but ‘when’. And ‘when’ was 2:28PM on 15 January 1934. It was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">11:56AM on 25 April, 2015</a>. Another memorable and tragic date in future is certain.But Nepalis have short memories. As long as aftershocks shook us, we were reminded about the horrors. But seven years after 2015, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tall-order/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the fear has evaporated</a>.This is not panic-mongering, or crying wolf. It is reality: every part of the central Himalaya is hit by a megaquake above 8 magnitude every 500 years or so, and a moderate intensity quake every 100 years.The 2015 disaster was not a Big One, 1934 was. Nonetheless, both released some of the built-up tectonic tension underneath us. What worries Himalayan seismologists is that there has been no <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-two-disasters-in-west-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">major earthquake in western Nepal</a> in the last 500 years. The rock strata beneath are stretched to breaking point.Experts tell us that if an 8M earthquake strikes in this seismic gap between Pokhara and Dadeldhura, it will also rock Kathmandu and be even more damaging than 2015.That <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rebuilding-five-years-after-2015-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">7.8M earthquake seven years ago</a> was comparable to the 7.7M quake in Gujarat in 2001, and the 7.6M temblor in 2005 in Kashmir. In 2015, Nepal saw greater physical damage, but India and Pakistan had much higher casualties. One reason was that we were lucky 25 April 2015 was a Saturday, and students were not in classrooms.To mark National Earthquake Safety Day on 15 January, we recap the past seven years. There is some good news: over 80% of reconstruction is complete. Nepal’s recovery has been smoother than other developing countries hit by mega disasters.  Despite initial delays due to political muddles and the Blockade, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reconstruction in most sectors</a> picked up in 2016. Today, only health facilities and heritage sites are lagging at about 65% completion. Most rebuilt homes follow national seismic resistance guidelines because masons were trained, and there was monitoring before grants were released in installments.However, reconstruction in Kathmandu and other towns have not even passed the 60% mark, and could take another five years. The Rs300,000 reconstruction grant was just not enough for families to rebuild urban homes. More worrisome is that whatever has been rebuilt in Kathmandu Valley mostly flout building codes and permits.The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/building-back-unsafe,3674" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Gongabu neighbourhood saw 160 deaths</a> in 2015, most of them were crushed under illegally built concrete structures. Most of those high rises have been rebuilt using the same faulty techniques.Except in Gongabu, most concrete structures survived the 2015 quake in Kathmandu. This has <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/false-sense-of-security-about-strength-of-reinforced-concrete-structures,2240" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reinforced public misconception</a> that cement houses, regardless of how they are built, are stronger than brick and mortar ones.However, seismologists say that if the tremors in 2015 were only a few seconds longer and the magnitude slightly higher, many of Kathmandu’s concrete buildings would have also collapsed. They are unlikely to be spared in the next big one.Seven years after the earthquake, it is back to business as usual. In fact, Kathmandu is now more dangerous because it is even more densely packed, and there are more multi-storey blocks. Clearly, awareness about earthquakes has not translated into safer construction — we have forgotten that earthquakes do not kill people, poorly built structures do.Surya Narayan Shrestha at the National Society for Earthquake Technology – Nepal (NSET) tells us that building codes need to be strictly enforced with stringent monitoring mechanisms. Municipalities must be stricter with building permits.Next, masons and concrete moulding workers need skills upgrading in earthquake resistant building technology. Security personnel now need <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Search-locate-%20rescue-in-collapsed-concrete-houses,3676" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">training in search and rescue</a> under collapsed concrete structures.Shrestha says schools, hospitals and public buildings need to be retrofitted urgently. Many schools NSET had <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/preparedness-saves-lives,2264" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">helped retrofit</a> withstood the 2015 earthquake, and this model needs to be replicated across western Nepal.Nepal’s towns are losing open spaces, which are vital as shelters in the aftermath of future earthquakes. Kathmandu must <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-artists-butterfly-effect/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">protect remaining open spaces</a>, and these efforts need to be scaled up not just for earthquake safety but also to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/mini-forests-to-make-kathmandu-more-liveable/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">restore the city’s lungs</a>.   Preparedness will mean life or death for all Nepalis, not just for those in the seismic gap in the western part of the country. This should be the main message on the National Earthquake Safety Day. Earthquakes are beyond our control, but we can <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">make ourselves safer</a> when they happen.Sonia Awale

Sonia Awale

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Lessons still not learnt

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2659c7e80680e08f90ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="720"/><figcaption>The brand new Patan School building that is nearing completion with support from the Japanese aid agency. A raft concrete foundation makes it withstand a magnitude 8 earthquake. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>It took 40 seconds for the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">25 April 2015 earthquake</a> to seriously <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earthquake-an-opportunity-to-rebuilt-education-system-not-just-fallen-schools,2336" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">damage or demolish some 50,000 classrooms</a> across central Nepal. If the earthquake had not struck on a Saturday, the death toll would have been unimaginable.More than five years after a disaster that could have had a much more catastrophic outcome, and with most of the schools now rebuilt, Nepal <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/be-prepared/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">does not seem to have learnt its lesson</a>. The Covid-19 crisis has forced schools into hibernation, schools in other parts of Nepal are not prepared, and the retrofitting of classrooms has languished.“Given the scale of the 2015 earthquake, our reconstruction process has been quite satisfactory but we are not prepared enough for future mega-quakes,” says Surya Narayan Shrestha, executive director of the National Society of Earthquake Technology (NSET) Nepal.Indeed, National Earthquake Safety Day on 15 January which commemorates the 8.3 magnitude 1934 earthquake that devastated Kathmandu, is the right time to assess our <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">preparedness for future disasters</a>.“<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/mind-the-gap/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Western Nepal hasn’t had a major earthquake</a> in a long time and a lot of stress has accumulated,” warns Shrestha. “But no part of the country will be spared, and we are not prepared for it – especially public buildings such as schools and hospitals.”Nepali Times surveyed some of the rebuilt schools in and around Kathmandu, and in general the new structures appear to be of seismic resistant design. However, because there have been no classes for nearly a year, there have been no preparedness drills.At <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/back-to-school-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tripadma High School</a> in Patan, a retrofitted block withstood the tremors in 2015, and  served as a shelter for the community for more than a month. However, an older building was heavily damaged and got a red sticker in the post-quake assessment.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2689c7e80680e08f90bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd26c9c7e80680e08f90cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024">(Left to right) Two eight room buildings inside Tripadma School in Patan built after the 2015 earthquakes to acommodate the growing number of students. A retrofitted building next to it, survived the disaster and served as a shelter for the community in its aftermath. Photos: SONIA AWALEAcross town, the Padmodaya High School in Putali Sadak would have had 1,000 students in the classrooms if the 2015 quake had struck on a regular day. The building was destroyed. A newly built, sturdier structure next to it survived and was a temporary home for many in the aftermath of the disaster.According to the Central Level Project Implementation Unit (CLPIU) under the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA), a total of 7,923 schools and 49,681 classes were damaged in the earthquakes.“After the earthquake, we conducted classes in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/keeping-the-children-in-safe-classrooms,3057" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">temporary learning centres</a> for two years. It was unbearably hot under zinc sheets during summer. The roof leaked when it rained,” recalls Principal Narayan Prasad Gautam of Padmodaya School. “Things have got better with the new building. The engineer has assured me it can stand a 9M quake.”Tripadma and Padmodaya were both rebuilt with support from CLPIU and are two of the 7,553 schools the Nepal Reconstruction Authority (NRA) targeted for rebuilding post 2015 earthquakes. Five years since the earthquake, 6,085 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">school buildings have been reconstructed</a> and another 1,468 are still under construction.“We have reconstructed some 80% of the schools and the rest will be completed by June,” says Gopal Prasad Aryal of NRA. The government entity has also been working on rebuilding 44 universities and colleges with financial support from India. “We now have strong infrastructure with water, toilets and ramps. Our hope is that it aids the quality of education.”This year’s National Earthquake Safety Day will have to also work on regular disaster preparedness drills, and reminders on earthquake safety. And as memories of the 2015 earthquake fade, many are becoming complacent with construction that flout the building code. Meanwhile, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-two-disasters-in-west-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">western half of the country</a> has little or no information about earthquake safety.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5F2eKkUmvNALike most houses rebuilt after the 2015 earthquakes, schools from Kavre to Gorkha now use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reinforced concrete structures</a>. This means safety drills will have to be adjusted, and search and rescue procedures completely revamped to take into account the new construction material.The lack of trained professionals and training in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Search-locate-%20rescue-in-collapsed-concrete-houses,3676" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">search, locate and rescue in collapsed concrete structures</a> will be wholly different than in 2015, when most of the collapsed buildings were of lighter timber, brick and mud mortar construction.In 2015, crucial hours in rescue operations were lost because of the lack of concrete cutters, and with them, lives. Some children who had already escaped swaying buildings rushed indoors to perform duck-cover-hold procedures taught at schools when the structures collapsed on them.“Despite having earthquake resistant structures we have drills at least once a month in school so that students have complete knowledge regarding earthquake safety,” says Tashi Tenzing Norgay of Nepal Green Tara Foundation which rebuilt two <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/rebuild-school-after-earthquake,3458" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">schools in Nuwakot</a> in 2014. When the earthquake hit central Nepal in 2015, those two schools were among the few still standing.After the earthquake, the foundation has built three more schools. “Infrastructure is important but so is earthquake education,” says Norgay. But the importance of drills have been forgotten in most schools, especially as schooling scenarios changed due to the Covid-19 pandemic.With schools closed for the past 10 months because of the Covid-19 pandemic, students have had no <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17851#.YAExZ-gzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">earthquake preparedness training</a>. But as schools prepare to open now, the focus will largely be on infrastructure that ensures social distancing.Local governments are working with the Health ministry and UNICEF to launch the Learning Continuity Campaign this week. The campaign engages parents, teachers and local government, providing guidance on safe reopening of schools and alternative modes of instruction like home-schooling, low-tech solutions like telephone/SMS for learning, radio programs on parenting and specific focus on marginalised children to prevent dropout, have been highlighted.The newly-built infrastructure of the schools has been a draw for some parents, thus upping the number of enrollment to community schools at a time when Covid-19 crisis has weakened economic status.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd26f9c7e80680e08f90djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Many public schools have noted a rise in admission of students from private schools.Patan School with its ghantaghar like clock tower (pictured above) stands out in the midst of the high rises, and is a model for earthquake safe school reconstruction.Funded by the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), the Rs 320 million building has a concrete foundation raft designed to withstand magnitude 8 shaking. The school has solar and rainwater harvesting backup, classes are spacious, and labs well-equipped.Upgrading in infrastructure, however, does not always guarantee an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">improved standard of instruction</a>. Patan School may have a fancy new building, but is grappling with enough teachers and students to fill the new classrooms, as well as a maintenance budget from the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/ministry-of-education-gets-an-f/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Education Ministry</a>.“There are now bigger, better school buildings but it won’t make a difference to the quality of education at this rate,” says Rajendra Dahal, editor of Shishyak monthly. “The 2015 earthquake and this pandemic could have been an opportunity to upgrade both hardware and software of our education system, but the teaching standards have instead, downgraded.”Indeed, the only thing going for most post-earthquake government schools is that they will be safer during a future earthquake. Otherwise it is the same curricula, under-motivated and under-paid teachers, lack of facilities and budgets.

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Lessons not learned from 2015

<figure><img width="1607" height="1262" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2589c7e80680e08f906jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Earthquake Safety Day 2004 coverage. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #178 </figcaption></figure>Nepal’s National Earthquake Safety Day commemorates 15 January 1934, the day when a magnitude 8.3 quake epicentred in Okhaldhunga, killed at least 17,000 people. It is known as the ‘Bihar Earthquake’ because Nepal was closed to the outside world then, and the British had more information on the damage and casualties in northern India.That sunny winter afternoon, temples and homes in Kathmandu crumbled in clouds of brown dust. Geysers of water shot out of fields, as the soil was squeezed like a sponge. In the royal palace, two of King Tribhuvan’s daughters were killed. Of Kathmandu Valley’s total population of 200,000, more than eight thousand died that day. Survivors, now in their 90s, have traumatic childhood memories of death, destruction and fear.Today, Kathmandu’s population is 3 million. Buildings are densely-packed and most are multi-storey concrete structures. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19934" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu ranks #1</a> on the list of Top Ten cities in the world most vulnerable to a catastrophic earthquake. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/">Past disasters foretold</a>, Om Astha Raihttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5F2eKkUmvNAThe magnitude 7.8 and 7.3 quakes in 2015 were warnings for Nepal to be prepared. Nearly 9,000 people were killed in 14 districts in and around Kathmandu, but the casualties could have been much higher if the intensity was a little higher, and the shaking had lasted a few seconds more. And, as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">our report this week on school reconstruction</a> shows, the number of children who would have been killed had the quake not struck on Saturday at noon, is so high as to be unthinkable. That danger is not over. Seismic resistant classrooms and school retrofitting is one of the most urgent investments that Nepal can make. <figure><img width="1491" height="1182" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd25c9c7e80680e08f907jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Earthquake Safety Day 2011 coverage. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #536</figcaption></figure>The good news, as we report, is that most schools that were damaged in 2015 have been built back stronger. The attention of school administrators should now be on Covid-19 safety when classes resume, as well as upgrading the curriculum. But we also need to move beyond central Nepal that was impacted by the 2015 quakes to make classrooms safer in other parts of the country. This is most urgent in western Nepal, which Himalayan seismologists say, has not seen a mega quake for nearly 700 years, and one is long overdue.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal’s schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel <figure><img width="1535" height="1169" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd25f9c7e80680e08f908jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Earthquake Safety Day 2013 coverage. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #638</figcaption></figure> To be sure, a 8.5 magnitude earthquake epicentred in western Nepal will be a regional catastrophe, affecting the densely-populated north Indian plains, and scientists say its impact on Kathmandu could actually be worse than the 2015 disaster. The most important lesson we must learn on National Earthquake Safety Day from the 40 seconds of shaking at 11:56am on 26 April 2015 is that we have to be better prepared — strengthening existing schools, hospitals and public buildings, enforce a building code on new ones, follow zoning laws, pre-position digging equipment and supplies, conduct drills for search, rescue, and relief. This is not panic-mongering, it is a question of life or death.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/not-out-of-danger-the-big-one">Not out of danger yet</a>,  Sonia Awale <figure><img width="1830" height="1268" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2629c7e80680e08f909jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> Nepali Times editorial on Earthquake Safety Day, three months before the 2015 earthquake. Photo: NEPALI TIMES #740</figcaption></figure> Every Earthquake Safety Day over the past two decades, this newspaper has carried the same message: let’s be prepared. Ironically, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/earthquakes-dont-kill-people-weak-houses-and-bad-planning-do,1930" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">an editorial three months before the 2015 earthquake struck</a> was titled ‘Preparing to be prepared’.  The message bears repeating: the next big earthquake in Nepal is not a question of if, but when.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/mind-the-gap/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Mind the gap</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/disastrous-management-in-nepal/">Disastrous management in Nepal</a>, Sewa Bhattarai

Be prepared

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

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

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

Water for Life

Turkish Airlines has been presented with the Sustainable Financing Pioneer Award by Ishka, recognising its landmark transaction that, for the first time, integrated a sustainability-linked loan structure into a multi-currency JOLCO financing model for the acquisition of two next-generation, fuel-efficient Airbus A321neo aircraft. This innovative transaction, arranged by Societe Generale, links the financing terms to Turkish Airlines’ Sustainability Performance Targets (SPTs), particularly the goal of reducing carbon intensity across its fleet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;“We believe this structure not only supports our fleet renewal and growth objectives, but also reinforces our long-term commitment to becoming a carbon-neutral airline by 2050,” said Chief Financial Officer Murat Şeker.

Turkish finance

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