<img width="800" height="444" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2023020814028/63e39f629c7e80680e0d6febjpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The critically endangered Elongated Tortoise (Indotestudo elongata) is one of the 17 species of turtles found in Nepal. Native to South and Southeast Asia, it is also known as the Yellow-Headed Tortoise, Ground Tortoise, Golden Tortoise and ठोटरी. 
Its habitat is spread across Nepal and the reptile spends most of its life hiding under dry leaves in sal forests, bushes or bamboo groves. It feeds primarily on flowers and fruits, mushroom, and smaller organisms like earthworms, snails and slugs.
Turtles are some of the most threatened creatures with half of the 356 species found worldwide listed as threatened.
While in Nepali they are all called कछुवा, the distinction is made between whether the animal is aquatic (turtle) or terrestrial (tortoise). Morphologically, turtles have webbed feet for swimming and they come to land only to lay eggs, while tortoises have club-like forelegs and 'elephantine' hind legs, are heavier and cannot swim. In Nepal, Indotestudo elongata is the only entirely terrestrial tortoise.
According to the <a href="https://www.iucn.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">IUCN</a>, several species of the Testudine order of reptiles, which includes tortoises and turtles, are more endangered than tigers, snow leopards, elephants or rhinos.
However, as governments, organisations and researchers prioritise the study and conservation of larger charismatic mammals, turtles and tortoises are largely overshadowed.
Popular for its meat and eggs, the shy Elongated Tortoise is also reared in homes as it is considered lucky and auspicious, an incarnation of Vishnu and bearer of wealth, and is often left in monasteries. Its meat is also believed to have medicinal properties, but the curative and religious benefits are scientifically inconclusive. 
Adding to the challenge is the mass harvesting of the remaining wild populations for the growing food markets in China and East Asia, where it is incorrectly believed that a mixture, made by grinding up the tortoise's shell, serves as an aphrodisiac.
IUCN notes that the Indotestudo elongata has declined across its range by at least 80% in the last 90 years as a result of habitat loss alone, and has additionally been extensively and intensively exploited for consumption and export trade.
Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/planet-of-the-pangolins/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Planet of the pangolins</a>, Maheshwar Acharya
The Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES) states that Elongated Tortoise’s transport and trade without a permit is punishable by 2-10 years of imprisonment or a fine of Rs100,000–500,000, or both.
But in Nepal, the Elongated Tortoise is still not listed as an endangered species, even as it nears extinction globally. However, the National Parks and Wildlife Protection Act, 1972, which specifies that it is illegal to kill, trade or transport any species of tortoises without a permit, punishable by one to 10 years of imprisonment or a fine of Rs40,000–75,000, or both. 
Even then, haphazard harvesting and online buying and selling through platforms such as Facebook is still rampant, as the Commercial Wildlife Husbandry and Breeding Standards, 2021, authorises the rearing of turtles without specifying the species. Government statistics also do not detail turtle smuggling, making it difficult to trace the origin of certain species and their location once they are sold, putting Elongated Tortoises at increased risk.
This makes the conservation of tortoises in Nepal all the more important. World Turtle Day is observed every 23 May, and it is necessary to continue to spread public awareness to protect the shelled reptiles and their habitats, and to dispel any misconception about them.
Wildlife conservation in Nepal is largely focused on tigers and rhinos, but it is equally imperative that we turn to smaller tortoises and turtles that play a significant role in biodiversity. They help disperse seeds of plants, keep the environment clean by eating insects and dead animals that may cause disease, and help maintain balance in the aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems.
Conservation work is currently taking place in Jhapa's Turtle Rescue and Conservation Centre, Chitwan and Bardia National Parks, and on smaller scales in other places. But it is a matter of urgency that more rescue and conservation centres were set up in other parts of the country. As it is, seven species of turtles and tortoises have already become extinct in the world.
Breeding programs are also underway in Jhapa Conservation Centre and Chitwan National Park, but they may not be enough to save the Elongated Tortoise from poachers and habitat destruction.
Conservation efforts must include creating an action plan for conservation, implementing laws and regulations related to wildlife protection, spreading public awareness, helping them breed in a protected area, and ultimately releasing them into the wild with monitoring.
Asmita Shrestha is a researcher of tortoises with <a href="https://greenhood.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Greenhood Nepal</a>.

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Saving Nepal's rare tortoises

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01739c7e80680e0a362djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Renuka Sunar was killed in a tiger attack on 10 March earlier this year. All photos: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>1 0 March 2020. It was an ordinary day for Renuka Sunar collecting fodder in a forest near her home in Kathariya village. Suddenly, a tiger leaped out of the undergrowth and dragged her screaming and kicking. Neighbours heard her cries, and rushed out to help.“When we heard the screaming we ran to where the sound was coming from, but she was nowhere to be found,” recalls mother-in-law Kaushila Sunar. “Later the police found her, but she was dead.”At 60, Kaushila has been living in Kathariya for more than four decades but has never before experienced such increased frequency of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/close-encounters-with-tigers-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">tiger attacks</a>. There was another close shave last month.“I suddenly saw a tiger read to pounce on my grandchild, I screamed and managed to scare it away. They are attacking us in our homes following the smell of livestock, the fear keeps me awake all night,” she adds.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01779c7e80680e0a362ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Kaushila Sunar wasn't able to reach her daughter-in-law Renuka on time to save her.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d017a9c7e80680e0a362fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Sunar now has to raise her young grandchildren as well as protect the goats all by herself.</figcaption></figure>Kaushila is a widow and her only source of livelihood is now at risk due to the fear of tigers. She now has to raise her young grandchildren as well as protect the goats all by herself. But since the attack on Renuka, she has been afraid to venture into the jungle to collect fodder for the goats.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d017e9c7e80680e0a3630jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Kathariya village in Bardia.</figcaption></figure>Four months before Renuka was killed, Dinesh Tharu of the nearby village of Madhuban who had gone into the forest to collect mushrooms was also attacked and taken by a tiger. His brother-in-law Ramesh who went looking for him suffered the same fate.Ramita Chaudhari lost both her husband and brother on the same day due to the tiger attack. Dinesh, a construction worker in Kathmandu, and Ramita were married for 10 years and have two daughters. The family is landless.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01829c7e80680e0a3631jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Ramita Chaudhari lost both her husband and brother to a tiger attack.</figcaption></figure>“He took us to Kathmandu for a visit once, and wanted to enroll our children in a school there but now after his death I cannot even afford to send them to a government school here,” says Ramita whose older daughter is in Grade 2.She adds: “I’d never known of a tiger attack before. It took both my husband and my brother together and left my family destitute. I wish someone could help me educate my daughters.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01859c7e80680e0a3632jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Ramita Chaudhari with her young daughters.</figcaption></figure>Dinesh and Ramesh had married each other’s sisters, so like Ramita, 25-year-old Puja also lost both her husband and brother on the same day. The couple has two daughters aged three and one, and the family relied on Ramesh's income as a construction worker.After the deaths, Puja took training in making potato chips but because of the Covid-19 lockdowns, she is yet to start a business. “Work is difficult to come by. But I want to send my children to school no matter how difficult.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01899c7e80680e0a3633jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Puja Tharu also lost both her husband and brother to a tiger attack. She struggles to send her children to school</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d018d9c7e80680e0a3634jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01929c7e80680e0a3635jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">All these three attacks took place along the Khata Wildlife Corridor that links Nepal’s Bardia National Park with India’s Katarniyaghat Wildlife Sanctuary. The corridor is used by endangered mammals like tigers, elephants and rhinos, and the wildlife in the two-country sanctuary frequently move back and forth across the border.There were a total of 87 tigers in Bardia National Park and buffer zone in the 2018 census. Another 28 big cats were recorded in Katarniyaghat in India. Similarly, a 2021 census registered a total of 120 wild elephants in Bardia and Katarniyaghat. There are also <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/where-have-bardias-rhinos-gone/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">four rhinos translocated to Bardia</a> from Chitwan which have moved over to the Indian side.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01959c7e80680e0a3636jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>A route frequented by tigers in the Khata Wildlife Corridor.</figcaption></figure>“We have installed a camera trap in the Khata corridor to monitor wildlife movement,” says Rabin Kadaria of National Trust for Nature Conservation (NTNC) Bardia. “The corridor has made mating between the wildlife across the border possible, resulting in new offspring, and preventing genetic degradation, which means biological diversification and healthier newborns.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01999c7e80680e0a3637jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Bardia National Park office</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d019d9c7e80680e0a3638jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Rabin Kadaria of National Trust for Nature Conservation (NTNC) Bardia</figcaption></figure>The Khata Corridor actually lies outside Bardia National Park and beyond its buffer zone, but is a protected area under the Forest Act 1993 but Nepal’s law doesn’t recognise it as a separate entity. Presently, it is managed by the Division Forest Office, and local communities have established a conservation committee for the corridor.But the corridor is suffering from encroachment and human disturbance. It has been bifurcated by the Postal Highway, which has disrupted the north-south movement of wildlife. Though a 45m-wide wildlife bridge has been proposed in Madhuban to allow animals to cross, construction work has not started yet.Khata Corridor has contributed to wildlife conservation, but increased frequency of animal attacks have added to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">conservation challenges </a>of endangered species in Nepal.In the past two years, 23 people (20 in Bardia, two in Banke and one in Kailali districts) have lost their lives to tiger attack, according to Bardia National Park. Of the 20 in Bardia, seven were from the Khata Corridor."The human-tiger contact has become a bigger challenge than poaching. Conservation programs should look into reducing such conflicts," adds Kadaria of the NTNC Bardia.Moreover, indigenous people and local communities rely on the forest for firewood, fodder and food, and it is impossible to prohibit them from entering the forest."Indigenous peoples have a right to forest food in the national parks, they should not be deprived of it. It is unacceptable that 23 people have been killed by wildlife in the past three years,” says Bharti Pathak of the Federation of Community Forestry Users.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01a19c7e80680e0a3639jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">The Chief Conservation Officer of Bardia National Park Bishnu Prasad Shrestha agrees, and is seeking federal government support for local communities with alternative livelihood options instead of barring them from the forest."Conservation efforts will be incomplete and unsuccessful unless <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-unsung-heroes-of-conservation/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">people living near the protected areas</a> take ownership for their protection," he says.Nepal is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/fixing-what-aint-broke/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">an international model for wildlife conservation</a>. It is the first tiger range country to meet the target of doubling its big cat population and is well on its way to achieving its commitment to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-many-tigers-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">increase that number</a> to 250 by 2022, up from 121 in 2009. But this also means an increase in the frequency of tiger attacks, especially along the Khata Corridor.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01a49c7e80680e0a363ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01a79c7e80680e0a363bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">In fact one-third of all wildlife attacks in the Banke-Bardia area have occurred in the municipality alongside the corridor, increasing from only three between 1993-2013 to seven since 2019.In the 2021 <a href="https://bit.ly/2UA9fx8">journal article</a>, 'Complex Consequences of Conservation Success: Emerging Human-Tiger Conflict in Nepal', conservationists have warned that the current level of human-wildlife contact in the Bardia-Banke complex will pose a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/villagers-step-up-to-protect-nepals-tigers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">serious risk to tiger conservation </a>if not addressed on time.However, <a href="https://bit.ly/3zl8dEF">another article</a> published in the journal Oryx in 2016, 'Are Corridor Good for Tiger But Bad for People? An assessment of the Khata Corridor in Low Land Nepal', concluded that wildlife route was not any more problematic for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/rise-in-tiger-numbers-make-leopards-raid-livestock/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">locals and their livestock </a>than in other national park buffer zones in Nepal.But the recent attacks and deaths in the corridor have raised questions locally about the modality of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/unsung-heroes-of-nepals-tiger-recovery/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">tiger conservation</a>. Kaushila Sunar, who lost her daughter-in-law to a tiger attack in March, says, "The government is only concerned about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/its-a-jungle-out-there/">saving tigers</a>. No one cares how we survive."(Translated by Sonia Awale from the Nepali language original in Himal Khabar.)<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01aa9c7e80680e0a363cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><h2>Corridors of (nature's) power</h2>If not for the pandemic and successive lockdowns, Bardia National Park this time of the year would be crowded with national and international visitors. The homestays along the Khata Wildlife Corridor that connects wilderness areas in India and Nepal used to be packed.But in the absence of tourists, wild animals have reclaimed nature and their space. Villagers have reported coming across a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-wild-elephants-are-also-on-the-move/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">large herd of elephants on the move</a> and some have even sighted tigers in the wildlife corridor.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01ad9c7e80680e0a363djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="537">Salik Ram Chaudhary of the Khata Wildlife Corridor Homestay Management Committee grew up roaming these forests near his home. Every season, he used to guide tourists and organise safaris and wildlife excursions in Bardia National Park.On 10 June, Chaudhary was on his way into the forest when he saw a herd of about 40 elephants, ranging from calves to adults, on the move just half a kilometre from the village.<iframe style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fsalikram.chaudhary.71%2Fvideos%2F492020552133087%2F&amp;show_text=0&amp;width=560" width="560" height="315" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe>“To say it was a sight to behold is an understatement — it is extremely rare to see such a large herd of elephants this close to human settlements,” he said.Every year during September and October, Bardia elephants travel through the Shiva Community Forest in Madhuban Municipality to the Katerniaghat Wildlife Sanctuary in India’s Uttar Pradesh. They return to Nepal when the monsoon approaches. Ancestors of these great herds have been taking this annual migratory route for tens of thousands of years.But because of lack of human movement, the herd this year did not bother to stay within the jungle corridor, and instead marched right through the village, lumbering peacefully past farms and stopping to graze along the way.<iframe style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fsalikram.chaudhary.71%2Fvideos%2F471588867509589%2F&amp;show_text=0&amp;width=560" width="560" height="315" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe>The elephants, however, were not the only wildlife sightings that Chaudhary had. On 28 May, the wildlife guide came across a tiger 400m away in the outskirts of the village.“I threw caution to the winds and followed the tiger from a distance, taking photographs. The tiger knew I was there, but left me alone — both of us were at peace with the world,” says Chaudhary, who had never before seen a big cat from up close despite being a wildlife tracker and guide.Half a kilometre away from the Dalla Homestay village, the tiger stopped at a watering hole in the buffer zone of Bardia National Park. It drank deeply.During the hot summers, the water sources within the Bardia National Park that fill the natural watering holes dry up, forcing many wild animals into rivers and ponds near towns and villages.Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-tiger-conservation-too-successful/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">conservation success</a> has also led to overcrowding of big mammals in protected areas and national parks, in turn resulting in scarcity of prey populations. This has compelled tigers and elephants to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-humans-can-live-with-wild-elephants/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">venture into human settlement</a>.There has been an increase in human-animal confrontation. This is more prevalent in Khata Wildlife Corridor (read the report above) compared to other parts of western Nepal.Conservation models need to include strategies to<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-nepals-conservation-heroes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> reduce human-animal conflict</a> and local governments should introduce alternative livelihood options for the communities living near the protected areas to reduce their dependence on the forest. Similarly, infrastructure, new and those being upgraded need to include <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-needs-wildlife-friendly-highways/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wildlife passes to reduce road kill.</a>On the flipside, the proximity of endangered species to human settlements has made frequent sightings quite common, boosting local eco-tourism and providing indigenous communities engaged in homestay business with extra income.This was possible with the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/empowering-nepalis-during-covid-19-crisis/">combined conservation effort</a> of communities, local governments and environmentalists, and there are lessons to be learned.Says Salik Ram Chaudhary: “As in Bardia, we need to ramp up conservation efforts across Nepal so that we can use the lockdown to share space and live with Nepal’s rich biodiversity.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01b19c7e80680e0a363ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="810" height="540">Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-at-forefront-of-saving-tigers/">"</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-at-forefront-of-saving-tigers/">Nepali women at forefront of saving tigers",</a> Kanchan Thapa

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Human-animal interface in Nepal wildlife corridor

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae029c7e80680e077fcbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Wild elephants crossing the East-West Highway in Bardia National Park recently. Photo: WWF</figcaption></figure>Cutting through the dense jungles of the Tarai national parks, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/east-west-city/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/east-west-city/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFgSeRApwHpAcpPoNGJ915JnQcfmA">East-West Highway</a> is turning into a death trap for Nepal’s endangered and protected wildlife. Now, Nepal is building more underpasses so animals do not have to risk crossing highways.Of the 1,028km East-West Highway, nearly 400km slice through national parks in Parsa, Chitwan, Bardia, Banke. Another 122km stretch of roads cross wildlife corridors connecting protected areas, as well as linking Tarai forests with the mountains to facilitate wildlife migration.Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFlRYbCC1nUHWVECaOS1ke8ZPO3Ew">conservation success story</a> means that there is now more wildlife movement between national parks, while <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/planned-new-east-west-railroad-and-expressway-threaten-the-Chitwan-National-Park,1079" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/planned-new-east-west-railroad-and-expressway-threaten-the-Chitwan-National-Park,1079&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGBnliUz0r8ybsppzBDmTdqdA9KRQ">upgraded highways</a> have increased the number of vehicles and their speed. In the past three years alone there have been 400 road kills involving wild animals.The 30km Narayanghat-Mugling Highway was recently improved to meet Asian highway standards, and this meant not only did it have to ensure adequate road safety features but also address conservation needs.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae059c7e80680e077fccjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1604" height="634"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The highway features the first two of Nepal’s four new wildlife underpasses in the Aptarai and Ramnagar in the section where the road passes through an important animal migration corridor.The underpasses were also equipped with 14 camera traps by the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6857#.XxVBdCgzbb0" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D6857%23.XxVBdCgzbb0&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFAZV_0bfdKqcXz1WdY2x2-fsKdGw">World Wildlife Fund (WWF)</a> and its ‘Hariyo Ban Program’ to better understand wildlife migration in the Barandabhar Forest Corridor and to monitor whether the underpasses are effective.The WWF has now released its findings from the study, and concludes: ‘Wildlife crossing structures are essential for all linear infrastructure projects traversing critical forests, incorporating designs based on international practice and available guidelines in all planned projects seem imperative in the future.’Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFlRYbCC1nUHWVECaOS1ke8ZPO3Ew">In conversation, Nepal is not out of the woods yet</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nature-without-borders/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nature-without-borders/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNF8a70J8PS6fLJWmTWLFNkTNrIqNw">Nature without Borders</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/planned-new-east-west-railroad-and-expressway-threaten-the-Chitwan-National-Park,1079" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/planned-new-east-west-railroad-and-expressway-threaten-the-Chitwan-National-Park,1079&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGBnliUz0r8ybsppzBDmTdqdA9KRQ">Trespassing into Nature</a>, Bhrikuti Rai, and Sunir Pandey<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae089c7e80680e077fcdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="912"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae0b9c7e80680e077fcejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="394"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae0e9c7e80680e077fcfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="394"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>According to the Department of National Parks and Wildlife conservation, the road kill problem is getting worse. There were 119 animals run over by vehicles in national parks in 2018/19, down from 124 in 2017/18 and 133 in 2016/17. In some years this was up to a third of the total number of recorded wildlife deaths in national parks. However, conservationists say the number could be much higher if highways through unprotected forests are also counted.“With such massive new investment in large infrastructure project, the impact on biodiversity and wildlife will be heavy, and we need mitigation measures such as underpasses and overpasses not only to save wildlife but also for human safety,” says WWF Nepal Representative Ghana Gurung.The WWF monitoring of the underpasses after the Narayanghat-Mugling Highway was upgraded from August 2017 till June 2018 shows that more than half of the animal movement occurred in winter when wildlife moved to sources of water.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae119c7e80680e077fd0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="645" height="693"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae139c7e80680e077fd1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1518" height="1140"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The WWF’s Pramod Neupane says the use of underpasses will increase as animals get more familiar with the structures. He adds: “Our research proves that underpasses are effective in facilitating safer wildlife movement, and we need to replicate this in other critical jungle corridors in the Tarai.”Only a quarter of the movement was during the monsoon months, while the pre-monsoon dry season saw the least movement. Most of the wildlife using underpasses were deer, wild boar and other medium-sized animals, and only 10% of the animals were large mammals like tigers, leopards and rhinos.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae179c7e80680e077fd2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="796"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“It seems the underpasses are not being used to their full extent because they are too small for large animals like wild elephants, and also because of the litter from the highway some of the underpasses have become constricted so bigger wildlife cannot easily pass through,” explains Padma Raj Nepal of the Division Forest Office in Chitwan.Manoj Aryal at the Department of Roads says the Chitwan study has shown that underpasses are effective in reducing wildlife deaths. After studies showed 30 spots along the 160km stretch of the East-West Highway between Narayanghat and Butwal that wild animals frequent, the Department is constructing four more underpasses and one overpass.Other wildlife underpasses are planned on the highway from Patalaiya of Bara to Dhalkebar of Dhanusha on the East-West Highway, which passes through the Charkose Jhadi and Parsa National Park.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae199c7e80680e077fd3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1100" height="659"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In Bardia, various line ministries in Province 5 in coordination with the Division Forest Office in Bardia have prepared a detailed project report for a 45m overhead wildlife bridge in an important migration corridor where wildlife movement is very high.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141140/636bae1c9c7e80680e077fd4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1530" height="782"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The overpass will allow tigers, rhinos and wild elephants migrating through <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nature-without-borders/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nature-without-borders/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595388886696000&amp;usg=AFQjCNF8a70J8PS6fLJWmTWLFNkTNrIqNw">jungle corridors connect Bardia National Park with Katarniaghat Wildlife Sanctuary in India</a>. The overpass will cost Rs81 million and construction will begin once the Environment Impact Assessment is done.Adds Aryal: “In the past, the cost of building such passes were considered unnecessary. But the success of the Chitwan experiment has shown that safe passage for wildlife is vital in reducing wildlife death along our highways.”

Underpasses to reduce roadkill in Nepal

In 2003, the death by police firing of a student protesting a rise in fuel prices pushed Nepal’s student activists to join the प्रतिगमन विरोधी आन्दोलन (Movement Against Regression), which political parties had begun after king Gyanendra’s sacking an elected government a year before. The students’ participation elevated the movement and prompted more Nepalis to join in, leading to the People’s Movement that first sidelined the monarchy and then abolished it in 2008.&nbsp; That took five years to happen. But 12 years later, this month, a youth-led protest forced the prime minister to resign within 30 hours.&nbsp; Police massacred GenZ activists, many of them students, outside Parliament on 8 September. This intensified public anger, leading to targeted attacks, looting, and burning of the homes of political leaders, private businesses, and public buildings.&nbsp; Amid the smouldering ruins of state institutions, young Nepalis chose a new prime minister to lead an interim government and deliver a fresh mandate. All of this happened in five days.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="8000" height="5760" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> <figcaption>Parliament building up in flames during the GenZ protest on 9 September. Photo: KAMAL PRASAI</figcaption> </figure>  Students have been central to Nepal’s democratic and political process since the mid 20th century. In her 2018 book Making New Nepal, researcher Amanda Thérèse Snellinger traces the history of student activism and politics against a background of &nbsp;Nepal’s socio-political history and party politics.&nbsp; Snellinger examines the interplay of ideology and identity, explores how student activists fit into a political landscape continually occupied by the traditional elite, and details how student leaders have established themselves through relationships with influential actors on local, national, regional, and transnational levels. The Rana regime’s repression caused students to be politically aware. In 1947, students held the first organised protest against the Rana autocracy demanding educational reforms. The breadth of student activism expanded during the Panchayat era after king Mahendra banned political parties, which drove mainstream politicians and parties underground. &nbsp;Student activists then became proxies for multiparty democracy because they were still able to organise.&nbsp; Student politics was institutionalised, and unions emerged as vanguard sister organisations of political parties. Student activism, more so than mainstream political parties, played key roles during &nbsp;both major movements in 1990 and the 2000s, as they mobilised the citizenry to join the democratic process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1952" height="2928" loading="lazy" alt="1990 people's movement Nepal"> <figcaption>The iconic image of the 1990 People's Movement agaist the autocratic Panchyat regime of the king. Photo: MIN RATNA BAJRACHARYA</figcaption> </figure>  Through extensive ethnographic research between 2003 and 2015, Snellinger investigates the political coming of age of student activists during the final years of the armed insurgency and their role in and beyond the movement that ultimately abolished the monarchy. Her research revolves around the political journeys of five student activists: Akash and Rishi from the Nepali Congress (NC) student wing Nepal Student Union (NSU), Salini from the UML’s All Nepal National Free Students’ Union (ANNFSU-Akhil), Gyanu from ANNISU-Revolutionary of the Maoists, and Lagan, who began his political journey from Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party’s student wing Nepal Krantikari Bidyarthi Sangathan. The ‘movement against regression’ in 2003 served as the entry point &nbsp;for activists into national party politics. Indeed, it was their &nbsp;participation in the movement that elevated the profile of the main subjects of Snellinger’s research. In the years that followed, the paths of the five activists diverged. Some made it into mainstream politics, even becoming lawmakers. In doing so, they have had to trade idealism for pragmatism, and their attempts realise their previous vision for Nepal’s democracy have been overshadowed by their political opportunism and position. And even decades after they began their journey as student activists, the generation that the book focuses on are still considered &nbsp;‘youth’ leaders. Snellinger quotes a former student leader who joined mainstream politics as saying: “I am still a youth because &nbsp;my aspirations remain unfulfilled.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="2006 People's Movement of Nepal"> <figcaption>A student protester wearing a paper crown and ridiculing Gyanendra with an impersonation, a day after king stepped down and left his palace. Photo: AJAY JOSHI / A PEOPLE WAR</figcaption> </figure>  Meanwhile, the refusal of Nepal’s octogenarian leaders to retire (even after The upheaval this month) has created a surplus of younger adults waiting in the wings, making the word ‘youth’ relative in Nepal’s political trajectory. Other subjects of Snellinger's research have retreated from student and mainstream activism, either in disappointment over their mother party’s retreat from some of their more radical positions, or to &nbsp;continue their work at the community level through education and journalism. One of them has leveraged her political connections to further women-led initiatives after unsuccessful election bids. Nearing the end of her research in 2015, Snellinger observes the disappointment of Madhesi communities whose movement to demand more inclusive provisions of the draft Constitution had gone in vain, even after 45 lives were lost.&nbsp; As the Constitution was promulgated in 2015, TVs were switched off in the Tarai, and there were sighs of resignation. In Kathmandu, Snelllinger noted that the student leaders that entered mainstream politics protesting for inclusive democracy had little empathy for the struggles and similar demands of groups in the Madhes. Despite the students’ role in ending the monarchy, Nepal’s political status quo has remained. The institutions and people that replaced the &nbsp;monarchy have allowed one set of Kathmandu elites to be replaced with another.&nbsp; The socio-political benefits promised during the movement two &nbsp;decades ago have remained tightly controlled by leaders who refuse to give up their hold on power. The political system was overhauled, but without concrete reform. It was only a matter of time before public frustration would boil over. Indeed, Snellinger concludes her book by predicting the inevitability of future movements in Nepal.&nbsp; She writes: ‘Leaders emerge through the andolan … a new generation will emerge shaped by Nepal’s accumulated socio-political heritage, which they will mediate to shape a liveable present and future for themselves in their country, perhaps by continuing the movement.’&nbsp; And that is exactly what happened on 8-9 September. Students marched in the streets demanding an end to corruption and impunity, but this time not as proxies of political parties.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Gen Z protest"> <figcaption>A student during the GenZ protest against acorruption on 8 September. Photo: SUDIKSHA TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  Their desire for socio-political reform was apolitical at a time in Nepal’s history when the nation’s student organisations have weakened and lost credibility, mirroring the erosion of trust in their parent parties. Along with party-based student unions, the Free Student Union (FSU)— the umbrella body all student unions—has lost its reputation due to corruption and embezzlement. That is not to say there are no similarities in movements past and present. Whether political or apolitical, protests have been overshadowed by a lack of unity within the groups that spearhead movements. They have led to destruction of public and private institutions.&nbsp; Leaders of youth and student movements have also had to bear the brunt of the frustration of the people they represent when there is no delivery on their demands. The academics of students have suffered because of frequent lockouts of university and college administration. Youth andolan, whether political or apolitical, has been a rite of passage into Nepali democratic politics — dissensus is an integral part of political regeneration. It remains to be see how the fall &nbsp;from grace of political parties after the GenZ movement will affect their affiliated student unions. As elections approach, student unions and youth collectives will find their own footing in Nepal’s &nbsp;newly emerging socio-political landscape. The youth who took to the streets are asking for a complete overhaul for political parties. Establishmentarian leaders still have not seen the writing on the wall.&nbsp; NextGen leaders in their parties have been waiting for years for their turn &nbsp;to break through the glass ceiling. These established political actors will not go down without a fight in the run-up to March elections.&nbsp; Amanda Thérèse Snellinger perhaps needs a post-script or even a sequel to her book to see how a new generation of leaders, forged by their student activism, will compete in Nepal's new political arena.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Making new Nepal book details NT"> </figure>

Nepal’s historic youth dissensus

What does a journalist do when young protesters are shot in front of her? Does she do her job and stay neutral? Can you stay neutral?&nbsp; As protests engulfed Kathmandu, Nepal's journalists found themselves reporting a story that was personal. While doing their job, some of them were even targeted by mobs.&nbsp; Dart Asia Pacific Fellow <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/arunkarki/" target="_blank">Arun Karki</a> visited their newsrooms and spoke with his colleagues on their experience of reporting the GenZ protests that erupted on 8 September. These are the first-hand accounts of journalists who witnessed the turmoil in the city they call home. Sunita Karki was at a workshop in a hotel on 8 September. She saw the first waves of protests through hotel windows. Curfew alerts flooded her phone, a vehicle belonging to a human rights group sat burning across the road, young boys were taking their wounded friends on motorbikes to the Everest Hospital, and police were beating a teenager with hands raised up.&nbsp; “I cried a lot,” she said, but the tears were not out of fear -- they were because she felt guilt. “I couldn’t write the news. We were witnessing these scenes from a five-star hotel.” By evening, the death toll had reached 19. On 9 September at about 3:35 p.m. &nbsp;her outlet, the Annapurna Post's office in Tinkune, Kathmandu, was set on fire. Staff had to leave the building as parts of the newsroom burnt down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dart Centre Asia Pacific"> </figure>  When she knew her office was burning, she anxiously told her husband that she would resign from the job: "If we have to hide our identification cards in every protest, what kind of journalist am I?" she asked herself. She filed a story the next day, but her emotions kept bouncing between that of a journalist’s duty and shock. She said that in moments like this, it’s hard to feel truly neutral. After watching the police beat people, she felt a strong urge to step in, not just stand back and report. The first real calm came later, when people came to the street and lit small candles together. “This was a sort of victory procession. I felt some relief after brutal days,” she said. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/angaddhakal/" target="_blank">Angad Dhakal</a> a photojournalist who works at Kantipur National Daily, was standing outside his office building when protesters stormed in and set parts of it on fire. He had already been informed that protesters were planning to torch his office building and &nbsp;rushed to his office hoping to save his hard drives containing ten years of photography work. He failed. He raised his camera and "forcefully" pressed the shutter - more to document the scene than out of "professional enthusiasm or duty".&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  “My office was burning. What should I photograph?” he recalled. A few moments later, a protester noticed the “PHOTO” label on his yellow Press jacket. Dhakal deflected it by saying he was an early career freelancer and YouTuber. So that protesters wouldn't find out, he went to one corner and took his jacket off. When it comes to covering street protests, &nbsp;Angad usually stands near the police because it feels safer. But on 8 September, fire and gunshots made even that area unsafe. A rubber bullet hit his friend Dipendra Dhungana that badly injured him.&nbsp; He thought, “Where do we go now? If we stay here, we’ll be hit.” After witnessing two days of protests, violence, and killings, and seeing his own office burning, he couldn't sleep for days. The same afternoon that government buildings burned and Kantipur was attacked, a message in a protest Discord forum talked openly of 'attacking Kantipur'.&nbsp; Rumours spread to other outlets. Outside OnlineKhabar's office, where <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/article/edit/7376157229248528384/?author=urn%3Ali%3Afsd_company%3A79132377#" target="_blank">Gaurav Pokharel</a> works, the newsroom manager saw “very suspicious people were walking around”. They lowered blinds, avoided windows, locked the front gate and dispersed staff to other places across the city. The outlet was threatened and effectively locked down, but not torched. Pokharel hid his press ID. “ I never showed the ID card. Sometimes I had to enter the crowd shouting slogans, just to blend in among the protesters,” he said. He watched people fall under gunfire, he helped pull one surrounded journalist out of a hostile crowd.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  As a freelancer, Gaurav also contributed articles for international outlets. Later, while transcribing an interview of a young protest organiser, he wrote to his editor at an international outlet : “This was very hard to write. I cried many times while doing it.” He had been working at a stretch for days battling bouts of exhaustion and low blood pressure.&nbsp; Protesters vandalised and set fire within the Singha Darbar complex housing Nepal Television and Radio Nepal. They tried to disrupt public broadcasting.&nbsp; Surendra Paudyal began the day with his press ID hanging on his neck, thinking it would let him move freely. But when he reached Singha Darbar around 3:30PM, the situation felt dangerous.&nbsp; He put the ID in his pocket. When asked what mattered most, he answered without pause: life comes first. In that moment, he felt real fear and a strong duty to protect his team.&nbsp; His focus narrowed to basic things: stay calm, find exits, get everyone out safely. Later, they were able to keep the 8 pm news on air through a regional link. He felt mixed emotions and a sense of relief that the broadcast continued, but also sadness and anger that their own studio had come under attack. Reprinted with permission from the Dart Centre Asia Pacific, a regional hub that provides trauma-informed support and advice to journalists.

"It is hard to feel neutral"

Among the songs GenZ protesters were chanting at the Mandala on 8 September was Amrit Gurung’s folk-rock rendition of the Panchayat-era patriotic song, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iXnL31W93c">रातो र चन्द्र-सुर्जे जङ्गी निशान हाम्रो</a>. But amidst waving double pennants that day in Kathmandu were strands of Gopal Yonjan singing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7D8P-g3Uw4" target="_blank">बनेको छ पहराले</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57SlGf4m7R4" target="_blank">देशले रगत मागे</a>. The irony is that the message of Nepali nationalism the musician was trying to convey 50 years ago with his lyrics carries a new resolute relevance in today's context: I am a son of Nepal who will never kowtow to anyone.&nbsp; You can behead me, but I will never bend the knee. &nbsp; I can withstand fire, but will not stand injustice.&nbsp; If the nation demands blood, I will sacrifice myself. My mother will not weep, for she is the daughter of a Nepali. This was pure patriotic poetry that only someone like Gopal Yonjan could write. They are inter-generational and immortal — speaking as much for the GenZ today, as it was for the early days of nation-building when they were recorded in vinyl and broadcast over Radio Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092210094_4d5f65bf3ba2d2823e3da8aff6a77f2b9aa4eff4b1e1b6a8eeed8c0bcb58e47b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025092210094_4d5f65bf3ba2d2823e3da8aff6a77f2b9aa4eff4b1e1b6a8eeed8c0bcb58e47b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan NT 1"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan was an adept flautist from a young age in Darjeeling.</figcaption> </figure>  Those two songs together have over 20 million views on the Music Nepal YouTube channel, and many of the comments have been posted after the 9 September massacre and the raging conflagration at the epicentre of the Nepali state&nbsp; They attest to the emotional depth of Nepali nationhood and love of motherland in every citizen of every generation no matter how dreadful the circumstances — and especially when the future looks fragile and uncertain.&nbsp; The release of Gopal Yonjan: The Man &amp; His Music by his wife Renchin could not have come at a more momentous time in Nepal’s history to celebrate this iconic legend of modern Nepali music. Yonjan would have been 82 today, and as a poet, lyricist, singer innovated and improvised using Nepal’s folk traditions to infuse modern arrangements, meld melody with harmony, and lend them words that made the songs eternal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092308098_76c4e4df756de0c1bea9858e1da0bcb6acb8145f27963e1679f5509a6ac2f078.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025092308098_76c4e4df756de0c1bea9858e1da0bcb6acb8145f27963e1679f5509a6ac2f078" data-rendition-name="original" width="2712" height="3900" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan Narayan Gopal"> <figcaption>Narayan Gopal with Gopal Yonjan, the ‘Gopal Duet’ at Swayambhu circa 1963.</figcaption> </figure>  HOMECOMING Renchin Yonjan brings us an intimate family album of historic photographs of Gopal growing up in school in Darjeeling, his arrival in Kathmandu and the decision to make Nepal his home. She quotes Gopal: ‘I was deeply moved by the very glimpse of Nepal. I was enchanted by the greenery of Kathmandu, the gentle nature of the people, their pure thoughts, and their hospitality … how wonderful it would be to spend my live in such a beautiful and serene place.’ It was a kind of homecoming for Gopal Yonjan, the land his ancestors left to migrate to British India. In Kathmandu he found kindred spirits and musicians as passionate about their craft as himself: Narayan Gopal, Nagendra Thapa, Ratna Shumsher Thapa, Shiva Shanker, Pushpa Nepali  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100920_99a97f6cd76c130d5df91a38ac236906bcb21ba6fc2d2d693ba51e0a97c045d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250922100920_99a97f6cd76c130d5df91a38ac236906bcb21ba6fc2d2d693ba51e0a97c045d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1071" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan arriving at Kathmandu airport in 1963 and greeted by Nepali singers Pushpa Nepali, Dilmaya Khati, Shiv Shanker Shrestha, among others. </figcaption> </figure>  Gopal Yonjan and Narayan Gopal hit it off right away, complementing and inspiring each other with their shared love for meaningful music. They came to be known as the ‘Gopal Duet’, and Yonjan wrote in Nepali in his diary on 21 April 1963 about their first meeting: ‘I was immediately struck by his talent and presence. There was something in both his artistry and demeanour that drew me in. It didn’t take long for us to draw close.’ Towards the end of his life, Gopal Yonjan drifted away from themes of patriotism and unity to celebrate music in its purest form in his Gopalaya Studio in Kathmandu. It became art for art’s sake.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100912_f9aeec8d96049c580a4b63789664e1ae80971d3be3c7809acfe51b84e3e31cd1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250922100912_f9aeec8d96049c580a4b63789664e1ae80971d3be3c7809acfe51b84e3e31cd1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1304" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan at his Gopalaya Studio in Kathmandu in 1992.</figcaption> </figure>  The words of his song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8ZHg3wkvzw" target="_blank">मेरो गीत मेरै प्रतिविम्ब होइन</a> immortalised by Narayan Gopal has lines that give goosebumps to anyone who listens to them: मेरो गित भन्ने अधिकार छैन, गित को पो म हूँ मेरो गित होइन (I have no right to call this my song. This song does not belong to me. I belong to this song.) &nbsp; In Nepal, Gopal Yonjan also found a more complicated story. There were grand historical narratives of nationalism, bravery and glory, but there was an undercurrent of fear and control. Renchin writes in the chapter, Tell Me Where My Country Lies: ‘[Gopal saw] national pride slowly erode in the face of social exclusion, political silence, and economic disenfranchisement.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100912_57578ebebc7e405cf6ad3080611366893bee30cfc071567e6509038da866b2f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250922100912_57578ebebc7e405cf6ad3080611366893bee30cfc071567e6509038da866b2f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1043" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Renchin and Gopal Yonjan in their garden in Kathmandu in the late 1980s.</figcaption> </figure>  Gopal Yonjan’s song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zru8yWSuRCI" target="_blank">भनिदे नेपाली दाइ मेरो देश कहाँ पर्यो</a> is ‘as much an elegy as a manifesto’ with searing lines like ‘Where is the river that ran red with Nepali blood? Where is the battlefield where our defenders wiped their khukri?’ Gopal Yonjan sings this song himself, reminding Nepalis of the sacrifices made to forge this nation, and for us not to squander them.&nbsp; In his song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pVKpsK6Wy8" target="_blank">लाहुरे</a>, Yonjan celebrates Nepal’s illustrious history written in blood both to keep the nation free and then spilling it to defend other countries. Today, the same song takes on added meaning of Nepali lahure shedding not blood but sweat and tears as they toil abroad to send money to families back home. It evokes the pain of separation, and an anger at an uncaring state that drives them to leave. Gopal Yonjan died aged 53 in 1997 in a New Delhi hospital, leaving a legacy that still defines the Nepali nation in ageless musical compositions. The US-based <a href="https://www.gopalaya.org/" target="_blank">Gopayala</a> and the Gopal Yonjan Foundation have worked to remaster some of the tapes and recordings that are in safekeeping at Cornell University’s Carl A Koch Library.&nbsp; Renchin Yonjan has collected some of that valuable documentation in her book, Gopal Yonjan: The Man &amp; His Music. Her concluding paragraph sounds prescient because of what Nepal has just been through: ‘Gopal’s patriotic compositions remain timeless not because they repeat old slogans, but because they ask new questions, and demand that we answer not with our voices, but with our lives.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092210090_3d0b5ecad2313b09e83e0de91bf510004f1ff836d7e66f0543ccd49432bb6386.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2025092210090_3d0b5ecad2313b09e83e0de91bf510004f1ff836d7e66f0543ccd49432bb6386" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="518" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> </figure>

Gopal Yonjan’s immortal songs

Harry Jackson was on an epic adventure ‘from Thailand to the UK on 2 wheels’ when he ran into the ultimate sidequest. Having just visited Zangla in Ladakh, Jackson had only landed in Kathmandu when he found himself in the middle of GenZ protests earlier this month. ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w">Arriving in Nepal - Chaos, Protest &amp; Curfews</a>’ is the title of his first video (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/@wehatethecold/videos">wehatethecold on YouTube</a>) about the protest. He shoots police as they shoot at protesters outside Parliament. Jackson is riding a Honda CT125, a retro lightweight motorbike with off-road capabilities. Strapped to the bike is his sparse luggage, flute, and a faded Union Jack. People are rioting on the streets and there is a heavy armed police presence as he makes his way to his hostel in Thamel. His vlog the day after on 9 September has 29 million views. In ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyxSqeFrlp0">The side of Nepal the media won’t show you</a>’, Jackson rides his bike straight at the crowd just past the Parliament building into Old Baneswar.&nbsp; He parks it and walks among the protestors, documenting it all: from the police firing capsules of tear gas into the crowd to the burning Parliament building as well as the jubilant, victorious crowd in the premises as they destroy police vehicles and dance. “I’m shocked at the scenes I’ve witnessed here today. I have truly witnessed history on a stupid trip from Thailand to England on a f***ing moped!” exclaims Jackson as he leaves the scene for the day, heading back to his hostel to edit the footage. The hostel is in direct contrast to the raucous scenes of the protest, as tourists and Nepalis sit and lounge at tables. ‘KUIRE VLOGGER’ Nepalis quickly called him the ‘kuire vlogger’, and attribute his skin colour to his popularity. Objectively, the videos are well made. Jackson goes full gonzo journalist, putting himself right in the heart of the action, talking directly to the people, all while narrating the events as they unfold. Despite being cut together in an entertaining way, the footage retains a raw, unpolished quality that outdoes what most professional journalists with a heavy duty camera crew could do. At a time when legacy media has been seen to be pushing biased narratives, Jackson wants to see for himself what happened, and make up his own mind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="1604" loading="lazy" alt="WehateTheCold"> </figure>  This kind of video journalism takes a lot of skill and a certain personality. Many people, almost everybody, had their phones out at the protests, but only a handful were like Jackson. He interviewed people firsthand, edited the clips and uploaded them the same day. Jackson continued his vlogging over the next few days as the curfew was first put in place and then lifted. He explores the city as the Valley rebounds. By this time, Nepalis recognise him everywhere he goes. Jackson had achieved moderate fame as a 23-year old DJ in Birmingham, but what he has done in Nepal is something else. Almost everyone he talks to has already seen his vlog, and they are all eager to interact. He has been on multiple podcasts in Nepal too, and most videos online on the protests reference his vlogs. Before his Nepal blogs, Jackson had a modest 16k subcribers on YouTube, but after Nepal figure is now almost 700k, gaining over 100k each through 11-13 September. Most of them are Nepali viewers. “I’m just a regular dude who just did what he wanted to do,” says Jackson on a podcast. “I wanted to go on an adventure, learn about history, and learn languages. And I wanted to film it, document it, and have a wicked film for my life to show future generations.” &nbsp;