<h2>Female domestic workers in Lebanon cannot visit families back in Nepal because of a travel ban that prevents them from returning to well-paying jobs</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710118/6368cb0a9c7e80680e02f34djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/>Along with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-migrant-workers-with-babies-face-double-stigma,2580">horror stories of abuse</a> of female domestic workers, housemaids from Nepal here have a different worry – they cannot go back home for holidays because a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ban-the-ban/">Nepal government ban on female migrant workers</a> would prevent them from returning to Lebanon to their jobs.Many women who travelled to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/lifeline-of-Nepal-economy-threatened-by-conflict-in-West-Asia,2842">West Asia</a> before the ban went into effect in early 2017 have not been able to travel home to visit children and families even though their employers are willing to pay for roundtrip travel to Kathmandu.Niru has been a housemaid for the same family in Lebanon for ten years. She has developed a daily rhythm that she is comfortable with, and spends Sundays with other Nepali friends. Niru had gone back to Nepal hoping to migrate to Europe, but when that didn’t work out her Lebanese employers asked her to return.“It was quite a scene when I landed in Beirut airport. My employer came to receive me with flowers and hugged me, and when I got to my old room it felt like home,” Niru recalls. Since then, her only worry has been not being able to go back to Nepal on paid leave every two years. Her employer compensates her financially in lieu of the air ticket, but Niru misses not being able to see her aging parents in Taplejung.Dipa has been working for a family in Lebanon for the past decade, making about $600 a month, most of which she saves. Her siblings back home in Nepal barely make Rs15,000 a month and don’t save much of it.“I am very happy here and so are many other Nepali domestic workers. Why is the government punishing us by not letting us go home?” asks Dipa, who could not even visit when her father passed away recently.<iframe src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/435866844&amp;color=%23ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_comments=true&amp;show_user=true&amp;show_reposts=false&amp;show_teaser=true" width="100%" height="166" frameborder="no" scrolling="no"></iframe>Unlike other migrant workers, domestic help is an intimate and complex partnership where both the employers and employees are inside the home.There are cases of abuse and exploitation, but there are also many Nepalis who are treated well and are happy in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/nepali-caregivers-in-israel,3809">well-paid jobs</a>. Employers here said they prefer Nepali housemaids, citing trust, cooking skills, relationship with their children, and the bonds they have developed.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710118/6368cb0d9c7e80680e02f34ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="1221"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Niru’s employer told us: “She takes care of me like my daughter. I don’t have to tell her what to do, and have told her the house is yours. My children adore her. She is really one of us.”Krishna’s Lebanese employer says she wants her to go back to Nepal every year to spend time with her son, Ajay. But Krishna doesn’t want to take the risk of not being allowed to return. “I feel guilty because I cannot do anything about it,” says Krishna’s employer.Dhana has been working in the same household in Beirut for ten years. Her employer has in the past arranged paperwork through the Nepal Embassy in Cairo for her to go back to Nepal on leave. But Dhana doesn’t want to be stuck in Nepal and lose her job. Says her employer: “Dhana has a right to go home and come back.”Nepali migrants here say home leave every two years paid by the employer are a strategic time to renegotiate salaries and benefits as employers are more open to having these discussions since there is an incentive to bring back the workers.<iframe src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/435871455&amp;color=%23ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_comments=true&amp;show_user=true&amp;show_reposts=false&amp;show_teaser=true" width="100%" height="166" frameborder="no" scrolling="no"></iframe>There are also many Nepali domestic workers in Lebanon in part-time jobs, living in apartments with fellow migrants. Not all employers, especially those without elderly or small children in the household, require full time live-in support. Many workers also prefer to live independently.“My Madam refers me to her friends and colleagues so I have enough work every week,” says a part-time Nepali domestic. This shadow gig-economy has evolved over time in Lebanon, and sometimes involves undocumented workers some of whom get up to $7 per hour, better than what live-in workers earn. But they have to pay living costs with that, and live in fear of detention by authorities.It is difficult to quantify what proportion of Nepali domestic workers have positive relationships with employers. Confined within households, many domestics silently endure abuse. Unlike other overseas contract work, the demand for domestic help in West Asia is expected to grow due to an ageing population, and as more families become double-income households.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ban-the-ban/">Ban the ban</a>, Upasana KhadkaDespite the ban on female Nepali domestic workers going to West Asia, many Nepali women are still travelling after paying off airport officials in Kathmandu or flying out from Delhi or Mumbai – making them more vulnerable to exploitation by traffickers and recruiters.Women who went away before the ban are also affected because they have husbands, children and families back in Nepal whom they have not been able to see for years.Many are unable to let go of good employers and return, or to take the risk of returning through expensive, unauthorised channels.To be sure, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/women-migrant-workers-are-doubly-vulnerable">not all employers are sympathetic</a> to concerns of their housemaids, and see them as property bought from an agent. Domestic work must therefore come under labour laws of host countries, which can be implemented and monitored via government-to-government agreements so that Nepal embassies have up-to-date records of each migrant and household. However, while women from Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Ethiopia and Philippines can ask their embassies here for help, Nepal does not even have an honorary consul general in Beirut.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepal-not-reforming-labour-laws,2687">Bilateral labour agreements</a> must be responsive to market needs like the trend towards part time household help that current arrangements do not address. This has created a parallel underground market that exposes workers to disproportionate risk.Nepal’s ban on female domestic workers was a temporary solution while abuse and exploitation were addressed. It is time to reconsider it. Or at least make special arrangements for domestic workers already abroad so they can make time off visits to meet families back in Nepal.*Support from the Nepalese community in Lebanon, the Lebanese employers and Sameer Karki in audio collection and compilation is gratefully acknowledged.<h2>The Risk Appetite</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710118/6368cb109c7e80680e02f34fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="889">Overseas contract workers from Nepal tend to have a high threshold for risk because of the relatively better earning prospects and lack of alternatives back home.Aspirants are <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/caught-in-the-middle/migration-agency-exploitation,4003">often aware of the common risks</a> to be wary of in overseas employment because of the networks of former or present migrant workers, the social web, and reports in the press.Despite this, many continue to make risky decisions not always because of lack of information, but in spite of it. Mahesh, a seasoned diaspora leader in Qatar who has watched migrants flourish and has himself rescued many from inhumane conditions that bore resemblance to modern-day slavery, attributes this to the culturally fatalistic view that migration is a lottery.Sharmila agreed with her agent to go to Kuwait via India despite a Nepal government ban on female workers going to the Gulf. “How else would I travel?” she asked, admitting that she knew her journey was full of pitfalls.Her agent ensured that Sharmila was well-versed on the do’s and don’ts while crossing borders to avoid getting caught: “Only carry a handbag.” “Don’t make eye contact with anyone.” “If stopped, say you are visiting family.”If she only made it to Kuwait, she would be able to provide for her children. Sharmila’s journey took 24 days from Nepal to New Delhi to Sri Lanka to Dubai, and she got an abusive employer in Kuwait. She had no option but to escape and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepali-migrants-hounded-out-Malaysia-,3036">return to Nepal</a>, distraught and without savings.When Ramesh agreed to go on a visit visa to UAE, he knew he was taking a chance by paying Rs250,000 to his agent and knew he was being overcharged, but there was that slim chance he could get a well-paying job.However, not only did his agent fail to find him a job but was verbally and physically abusive. Ramesh’s only memory of Dubai is the nearly three months he spent crammed inside an apartment with 22 other migrants.Shama is 24 and looks 16. She covers her face and laughs, showing the first page of her passport with a falsified legal age of 32. She couldn’t make it past immigration in Dubai and was sent back to Kathmandu which she initially avoided by travelling through India due to the ban. Shama believed her agent who lived above her room in her village because she had already successfully sent two others to Kuwait.Nepali workers are taking risks even when they get to the destination country. Ram’s job in Malaysia had no overtime, so he switched to undocumented status to earn more money – knowing fully well he would be deported if caught. He was caught, spent six months in detention and was sent back.He was among a group of other deported Nepalis at Kathmandu airport recently (pictured above), all were empty handed, clad in t-shirts and flipflops, walking out with other Nepalis who were pushing baggage carts with tv monitors.What makes workers like Ram, Shama, Sharmila and Ramesh take risks is the positive outcome for others. Unlike Ram, Kul earned $300 a month as a security guard, double of what he earned in his legal job at a furniture shop. Yet, he made it back safely with a temporary pass.The two women sent by Shama’s agents made it to Kuwait and have good employers who pay them well. Housemaids in Lebanon seem to fare well generally.Current migration policies which fail to respond to migrants’ aspirations and ground realities, such as blanket bans on domestic workers, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/06/28/zero-cost-migration/">free visa free ticket policy</a>, or the inability to legally switch jobs at the destination, all help make foreign employment more like a lottery than a pathway out of poverty.In such a policy environment, general awareness and orientation programs can therefore be rendered inadequate because many Nepalis are also knowingly taking ill advised steps. And when there are first-hand failed migration attempts of members of a community, other aspirants attribute it to ill luck or fate. Unperturbed, they repeat the same steps in the hope that in their case the odds will be in their favour.Names have been changed<h2>Alliance with airlines can make migration safer</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710118/6368cb139c7e80680e02f350jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Kotaraya quarter of the Malaysian capital comes alive on Sundays when Nepali migrant workers gather here to celebrate their hard-earned day off. The neighbourhood has over 65 Nepali restaurants, shops, remittance and travel agencies selling airline tickets catering to the Nepali diaspora population.A lot has been said about Nepali migrant workers <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/village-without-men-struggle-with-aftermath-of-earthquake,2238">propping up the home economy</a>, but Kotaraya on Sundays also shows how workers from Nepal support the Malaysian economy, its airlines and commercial activity in its cities as the 600,000 Nepalis there eat, shop, use phone cards and buy tickets back and forth from home. Three Malaysia-based airlines and two Nepali airlines link Kathmandu to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/disproportionate-number-of-deaths-of-Nepali-workers-in-Malaysia,2812">Kuala Lumpur</a>.At one of the restaurants, a group walks around seeking donations (pictured, above) for a Nepali worker Ram Tamang, who had been injured in an accident on his way back from work, and did not have support from his employer for medical expenses.“We have been able to reach other Malaysian cities through social media and Nepalis are donating through their bank accounts,” says Yam Magar who adds that the ‘Drive To Save Ram’ has raised $2,000 so far. The Non-Resident Nepali local chapter has covered his flight home.Stories of migrants who are injured, ill, jailed, duped or stranded are common, and many seek protection at Nepal Embassy shelters. In response, family, friends, the embassy, NGOs, NRNA or activists often step in to help with compensation and repatriation.However, given that there are so many Nepalis in Malaysia, the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/undocumented-Nepali-migrant-workers-in-Malaysia,3958">sheer volume</a> of vulnerable cases is overwhelming. The flight back can be a costly part of the expenditure for wounded workers like Ram Tamang, and that is where airlines which get a bulk of their business from the travel to and from Kathmandu could do more.In 2016, 3.5 million passengers used Kathmandu airport – at least 70% of them were overseas contract workers. Many of them come home multiple times during their stay abroad, adding further business for airlines.“The size of the aircraft used or the frequency of flights to and from Kathmandu are often dictated by migrant volume,” explains a travel agent here, who wanted to be identified only as Rita.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110710118/6368cb179c7e80680e02f351jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="360">Airlines serving the Gulf region and Malaysia operate up to 183 flights a week to and from Kathmandu. Nepali, Indian and Bangladeshi airlines offer about 104 flights via Dhaka, Mumbai or Delhi to the Gulf and Malaysia  which Nepali migrant workers also use because they are cheaper.Migrants also form an important employee base of the airlines. Many of the baggage handlers, cleaners, food packers, apron and terminal staff at Dubai, Doha or Abu Dhabi are Nepali.Airlines could therefore be doing more for the welfare of Nepali migrant workers, as part of their corporate social responsibility. Overseas migrant workers spend a bulk of their advance on recruiters, and much of their savings after working abroad on airline tickets.There are many cases of migrants who have been cheated by middlemen and sent back because of improper documentation, who could benefit from return support.Airlines could set aside some tickets every week for stranded migrants, provide last minute unsold tickets or issue discounted tickets for those who are in dire need of help. These could be based on referrals from embassies and rescue organisations like Pravasi Nepal Coordination Committee.Ramesh Niroula recently returned to Jhapa after spending 11 months unemployed in Dubai fighting a case at the labour court. He was not paid for six months at a restaurant that went out of business. When he realised that the court was a dead end, he borrowed money for the return ticket and headed home.An airline sponsor would have been exactly what he needed.Himalayan Airlines, for example, has direct flights to UAE, Qatar, Malaysia and is popular among migrants headed to Saudi Arabia with its Dammam connection. Helping stranded migrants could do its goodwill and branding.irlines can be important allies in making migration safer, plus it would be good for business.The planes themselves could be points for distribution of relevant information about the destination country through literature and in-flight video.There are pre-departure classes aimed at orienting migrants to life and work overseas which are monitored better now thanks to an online system that requires biometric authentication.However, pre-departure classes are often generic, do not address country specific issues, and are provided at a time when migrants are anxious, both because they are leaving their families behind and want the paperwork to go smoothly.On the other hand, problems with access at destination countries, scattered nature of work arrangements by individual agents, and post-arrival training is not seen as a feasible option except in cases like the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Korea Employment Permit System</a> which is a government-to-government initiative. Nepalis going to Korea have a weeklong pre-departure training and a three day orientation on arrival.There are also initiatives such as Dubai’s Know Your Rights campaign with information kiosks and multilingual brochures at the airport aimed at orienting migrants about their rights after arrival. If those working on migration issues collaborated with airlines, country specific brochures relevant for that destination including rules, contact information of support services, embassy details, and testimonials of migrants from that country could be provided in-flight.Airlines can be an important and a natural partner in efforts to promote safe migration by moving from a transactional relationship towards social responsibility.It would also involve the private sector in a field so vital for Nepal’s economy.Read Also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/women-migrant-workers-are-doubly-vulnerable">Women workers are doubly vulnerable</a>, Rojita Adhikari

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Homes away from home

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

Redefining the criteria for beauty

- High Court employee Amrita KC fulfilled her duties as a polling officer in Nepalganj on election day, with her six-month-old daughter held in her arms.&nbsp; - The same morning in Kathmandu-1, RSP candidate Ranju Neupane appeared at the polling station to cast her vote with her 10-day-old baby. The next day, she became the first candidate declared a winner by the Election Commission. Her party won a supermajority and will now be tasked with reforms in governance, development, the economy, and service delivery. At least four of the winning RSP candidates are doctors, and the party must fulfil its campaign promise of improving healthcare access across Nepal. Among the lowest-ranking region for healthcare indicators in Nepal is Madhes Province. Across the districts of Madhes and Karnali, where maternal and neonatal health outcomes remain poorer than in the rest of the nation, local governments in collaboration with non-profits, have financed and facilitated the operation of birthing centres where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-haemorrhaging-nurses">nurses are lifelines</a> for pregnant women, new mothers, and newborn babies.&nbsp; At the Inarwari birthing centre in Rautahat district, nurse midwife Manisha Kushwaha gently applies ultrasound gel on the abdomen of 28-year-old Robina Khatun who is having a sonogram in the first trimester.&nbsp; Kushwaha glides the transducer over Khatun’s belly before pronouncing her baby healthy. She will later send the ultrasound machine for the municipality’s monthly mobile sonogram program in a neighbouring village.&nbsp; Ministry of Health and Population guidelines recommend that pregnant people make eight antenatal care (ANC) visits to health posts before their delivery date. Expecting mothers are also provided Rs800 for the eight visits and travel costs according to geographical region. In Baudhimai, the local government provides more incentives: 10 eggs for non-vegetarian and protein powder for vegetarian mothers-to-be per visit. The municipality also provides free ambulance service for pregnant women, and conducts a monthly mobile sonogram program across all communities.&nbsp; The initiatives of local governments, health officials, non-profits, and volunteers have meant that institutional deliveries here have increased drastically. In Rautahat, institutional deliveries have increased from 50% to 68% in four years, according to figures from the non-profit One Heart Worldwide that works to improve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-lagging-in-safe-motherhood">maternal and neonatal health</a> outcomes arcoss Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1034" height="650" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  “Home deliveries have completely stopped in Inarwari, and women are increasingly accessing ante-natal and post-natal care, as well as family planning measures,” says Manisha Kushwaha. “Women and families here are now more aware of maternal and neonatal healthcare.” One of them is Noor Jahan Khatun, who had her first baby at home and gave birth to her second child at the local birthing centre despite wanting another home birth. When the due date for her third child came around, she walked to the health post herself.&nbsp; “I realised it is much better to give birth at the hospital,” Noor, who is pregnant with her fourth child, told us. “They have everything we need in case of complications.” The nursing staff at the birthing centre, as well as other centres in the municipality also periodically review their training in the birthing simulation room set up on the premises of the Inarwari birthing centre so that they retain their training and continue to hone their skills. Over in Sarlahi’s Sundarpur in Chakraghatta Rural Municipality, a state-of-the-art birthing centre now stands adjacent to the derelict old structure from which nurses previously had to provide services.&nbsp; The new and improved maternity ward was built last year with Rs2.4 million from the municipality and a Rs2 million from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">One Heart Worldwide</a> under a cost-sharing public-private partnership formula.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Sundarpur birthing centre in Sarlahi built through the collaboration of the local government and One Heart Worldwide.</figcaption> </figure>  Chief nurse Sunita Rai has been stationed here for the last six years, and looks at the old building. “I remember when we had to deliver babies while ankle-deep in flood water during monsoon,” recalls Rai. “This new facility and the equipment have improved service.”&nbsp; Since the start of the fiscal year, the six-nurse team at Sundarpur has delivered more than 140 babies. One day last month, a national holiday, the centre was quieter than usual, with just two women waiting for delivery.&nbsp; But fewer-than-usual patients does not mean there is no work to be done. In the afternoon, nurses make the rounds of the community to conduct post-natal care visits, and to keep track of how the new mothers and babies in the village are doing. This is important because neonatal mortality of babies within the first month of birth is still high. “For the people in this village we are both the doctor and the nurse,” Rai says matter-of-factly as she walks towards the village to see a new mother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027" data-rendition-name="original" width="790" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  In Sarlahi's Laxmipur Kodraha, Kanchan Rai makes her own rounds, calling out to several young children playing in the pale afternoon sun. Rai has been stationed in Laxmipur for 10 years and delivered most of those children playing outside herself. A beloved member of the community, Rai is greeted by several women and invited in for tea and snacks as she walks by. The Laxmipur birthing centre has seen major renovations to make it more spacious, better equipped, and hygienic. Mothers now have more privacy, especially from men who in the past would simply barge in wanting to know which woman from the village was about to give birth.&nbsp; “We deliver 400 babies on average every year,” Rai says. “There have been zero home births in this village for the last five years, and women are increasingly accessing maternal healthcare and family planning services.” Institutional deliveries in Sarlahi have gone up from 37% to 71% over the past five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="359" height="329" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Pregnant women who require C-sections, or those who experience complications during pregnancies, are referred to the nearest provincial hospitals in Gaur or Malangwa. “Community-based awareness programs about going for hospital visits have helped reduce home deliveries, and counselling sessions provided to new mothers at provincial hospitals have contributed to better maternal and neonatal health outcomes,” says Sachin Yadav, obstetrician-gynaecologist at Malangwa Provincial Hospital. SAFE MOTHERHOOD Newborns with birth asphyxia, tachycardia, meconium aspiration syndrome and other complications are admitted to the special newborn care unit at the Gaur Provincial Hospital. But Apsana Khatun, chief nurse at the hospital’s maternal and neonatal unit says: “We have not been able to provide neo-natal care as effectively because we do not have an NICU.”&nbsp; Provincial hospitals provide life-saving services, but remain underfunded and in need of life-saving equipment. At the Gaur Hospital, Rukmini Kumari Shah gently rocks her three-day-old son, who was admitted to the special newborn care unit due to birth asphyxia and dehydration.&nbsp; “I have not even been able to think of a name for him,” says the 25-year-old. “My other two children were born normal but I worry for this one.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Gaur Provincial Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  This is where the election pledge of the RSP will be tested. Will the new government cut through the bureaucracy, corruption and resource constraints to provide life-saving services to mothers and babies in places like Rautahat and Sarlahi? There has been no maternal mortality at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital for the last two years, but the hospital has had neonatal deaths. “We need more spacious waiting areas and training for maternal and neonatal healthcare workers,” says Sachin Yadav. “Without that we are unable to serve our patients and have to send them to Kathmandu or Birganj.” In Baudhimai village, patient numbers have increased by 140% in the last three years, but the federal government slashed the health budget by 60%. The government across three levels is supposed to provide 98 types of essential medicine free of cost at primary healthcare centres, but the federal and provincial governments often fail to make their share of the drugs available.&nbsp; “Federal and especially provincial governments have been irresponsible when it comes to investing in local healthcare,” says Baudhimai mayor Pradeep Kumar Yadav. Health workers and institutions continue to work without being paid or funded when the budget remains frozen for months at a time. “It does not matter to a patient when the fiscal year begins,” says Sachin Yadav at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital. “Maternal deaths do not wait for the budget to be released.” And despite budget constraints, political posturing still continues. At local levels, officials build multiple birthing centres in each ward when one would suffice, and these buildings remain empty.&nbsp; Politics also plays a significant role in whether or not local officials are willing to agree when health officials try to refer pregnancy-related complications to better-equipped facilities. And while services have improved due to the efforts of dedicated healthcare officials, they are transferred from one place to another at the whim of governments that come and go, which means staff turnover in these institutions is very high, affecting consistent service delivery. &nbsp; Yadav has been at Malangwa for three years— during which yearly institutional deliveries have gone from 2,000 to 3,200 and C-section births have gone from 150 to 700. He had just begun to hit his stride at the hospital when he received transfer letters to another hospital.&nbsp; So far, he has managed to hold on to his position in Malangwa, but he does not know how long he will be able to delay the transfer. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Tackling patriarchy</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09" data-rendition-name="original" width="1850" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> </figure>  Nepal has made dramatic progress in reducing the maternal mortality rate (MMR) from 539 per 100,000 births to 142 over the past 30 years. But that is the national average. MMR is still high in parts of Nepal where access to healthcare and adoption of health services are not as extensive. One reason is that despite birthing centres and awareness of pre- and post-natal healthcare, s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-slaughter-of-our-daughters">ocio-cultural norms in a patriarchal society</a> also mean that female literacy remains low, and the rate of underage marriage is high.&nbsp; Rautahat has the lowest literacy rate in Nepal, and the lowest female literacy rate. This has a direct correlation with its its fertility and maternal mortality rates. Gaur Hospital continues to see maternal and intrauterine fetal death (IUFD) deaths due to a lack of ANC visits by patients. In the absence of education and information, socio-cultural misconceptions still persist. Women refuse to take essential pre-natal medication like folic acid because they think it will affect their babies’ complexion, and do not eat enough fruits because they believe it will cause fetal pneumonia.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856" data-rendition-name="original" width="377" height="367" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Women are also expected to get through their pregnancies without going for health check ups in keeping with the tradition of their mothers and mothers-in-law enduring pregnancy and childbirth at home without access to healthcare. Maternal and neonatal health outcomes are also affected by child marriage, as well as the patriarchy-enforced preference of a male child in the family.&nbsp; At Gaur Provincial Hospital, 25-year-old Asha Kumari stands with her hands braced against the hospital bed as she is gripped by a contraction. Her eldest child is already 12, and she is at the hospital to have her fifth baby.&nbsp; “She had already had two children by the time she was 18,” explains her mother, who is here with Asha’s mother-in-law. &nbsp; Officials worry that reporting instances of child marriage might mean that women no longer trust health workers and hospitals, and stop accessing healthcare altogether. They insist that investment in maternal health needs to be accompanied by socio-cultural interventions. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FtVA--CRk3nM%3Fsi%3DJtFs6cwqOhJua9NI&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>

Motherhood in the Madhes

Nepal’s new political wave has been described in many ways: a generational shift, a technocratic shift, a shift in ideas, and a shift in political behaviour. Young leaders now sit in Parliament, many with international education and policy experience.
But amid this excitement, a quieter truth risks getting lost: this political transformation is also the ascent of people who, until recently, were the grassroots themselves.
For the first time, many of the people now sitting in government are not distant elites. They are people I have marched with, argued with, worked with, and been inspired by for more than a decade.
They are people who once stood ankle‑deep in floodwaters, not in front of press conferences. As optimism rises around the new government, we must not forget that the climate crisis has not slowed down. 
The monsoon is at our doorstep again. And if the disasters from previous years taught us anything, it is that climate impacts do not wait for political transitions. And our mountains and rivers do not care who sits in Singha Darbar.
What is different this time is who holds power.
During the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair" target="_blank">September 2024 floods in Kathmandu</a>, the first responders were not the state or development machinery. It was ordinary young people. A loosely formed WhatsApp network coordinated everything from dispatching mountain bikers to landslide‑stranded areas, to pooling relief supplies, to delivering materials to army bases for airlifting. These were citizens acting out of necessity, not mandate.
Many from that very network are now part of the government. As I have argued before in Nepali Times, top‑down climate responses in Nepal have always been too little, too late, and too disconnected from lived experience. The only proven path is bottom‑up, community-led adaptation where those who face the risks daily shape the solutions. 
International research backs this: community-based adaptation has been central to success stories from Bangladesh’s cyclone shelters to Vietnam’s mangrove restoration to the Philippines’ barangay disaster committees. The world has repeatedly learned that resilience grows from the ground up, not the top down.
RARE MOMENT
Nepal now has a rare political moment where people with lived experience of crisis sit in positions of authority. The real test is whether this lived experience becomes policy and immediate action.
The expectation should not be that these new leaders deliver because of their degrees. It should be because they remember where they come from and use their privilege to strengthen and fund local institutions, networks and people who kept this country functioning long before governments did.
The monsoon that starts in June will test the government’s commitment to governing from the bottom up. Will these new leaders govern the way they once volunteered — listening first, acting fast, improvising where needed, and involving those closest to the danger? Or will the weight of the state push them back toward the familiar comfort of top‑down plans and consultant reports?
The challenges are complex. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu" target="_blank">Climate change is driving displacement</a>, deepening poverty, and exacerbating gendered vulnerabilities. Climate adaptation, therefore, needs cross-sectoral solutions that understand how these issues intersect.
Long-term transformation is essential. Our major cities like Kathmandu desperately need a future where rivers are protected instead of mined, where an urban forest cools our heat‑trapping city, and where mobility focuses on sustainability, not just shiny EVs. Our mountain villages and terai lowlands deserve a community resilient to climate impacts, with livelihoods protected.
These require years of work. But immediate, life-saving measures cannot wait.
Will the government finally rein in the sand mining and quarrying upstream of the Rosi and Nakkhu Khola? Will someone sit down with the communities on the riverbanks and listen to the early warning signs they’ve learned through pain? Will climate adaptation be prioritised amidst political noise and competing crises?
Or will we find ourselves, yet again, mourning damage that could have been prevented? I have been inspired by many of the individuals now in government — they questioned old hierarchies, challenged worn‑out norms, and believed that things could be done differently. 
But while the faces in Parliament have changed, the bureaucracy has not. Development organisations and civil society groups have not. And those systems are slow: too slow for the speed at which our climate is changing.
So something has to give. And that shift must begin with remembering where this political movement came from: the grassroots. Those now in power must not forget the urgency they once carried in their bones. They cannot forget the feeling of wading into murky floodwater, holding a bag of rice over their heads. 
And it is our responsibility — mine <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/turning-green-policies-into-greenbacks" target="_blank">as a writer</a>, yours as a reader, and ours as citizens — to remind them. The real spark for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/measuring-climate-impact-on-culture-and-heritage" target="_blank">climate action</a> comes from personal stories of loss, fear, survival, and solidarity. And suddenly, those stories are no longer outside the halls of government. They are inside.
The question is no longer whether our leaders understand the stakes. They do. They lived it. The real question, as the skies grow heavier again, is this: What will we do with this moment?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu">Rastra Raj Bhandari</a> is a co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya. He contributes regularly to Nepali Times on climate change.

Soon, the monsoon

Sometimes, we need to take a step back to realise what a tectonic movement Nepali politics witnessed this month.
In a region and world ruled by elected authoritarians, Nepalis &nbsp;went to the ballot box freely to express a collective will for change.
These faces in this group photo of the RSP’s 180 freshly-minted MPs at the ballroom of the Royal Tulip Hotel on Wednesday is symbolic of what Nepal has come through.&nbsp;
The ship of state righted itself after the September Storm, installing an interim government that held an election within six months in which voters banished obsolete politicians and their parties into oblivion.
Nepalis, fed up with the inept kakistocracy of the past three decades, took the country into a post-ideological phase — replacing Marxists, Maoists and monarchists &nbsp;with a belief in a new governing culture that rewards delivery and accountability. And they have trusted the RSP to carry it through.
Nepal’s history has never been linear, it jerks ahead in lurches. The polity also tends to take one step forward and two steps back, so the public’s great expectations is tempered by a sense of cautious optimism and guarded pessimism.
This could be the great leap forward that Nepalis have waited for and deserve, but it could also be a Gramscian interregnum in which the old is dead and the new is not yet born. We will have to wait to see whether this transitional period will also see ‘morbid symptoms’.
As disruptor-in-chief, it was the Balendra Shah ‘wave’ or ‘craze’ that propelled the RSP to power. The former Kathmandu mayor needed a party platform, and the RSP’s tainted leader Rabi Lamichhane required a booster. Nepal's voters were looking for a saviour.
Personality-wise Shah and Lamichhane are poles apart: one is Type B and the other Type A. One is enigmatic, the other phlegmatic. But yin and yang do also tend to complement each other.&nbsp;
Kathmandu’s chattering class is already making self-fulfilling prophecies about the two falling out, and are fishing for hints that they already have. Shah’s absence from the RSP’s orientation this week was taken as a clue.&nbsp;
Closing the two-day tutorial on Wednesday, Lamichhane delivered a fiery 30-minute speech that laid out the RSP’s main agenda: to function differently from the old parties, serve the people, avoid middlemen, become true lawmakers without taking the law into their own hands.&nbsp;
“The old political parties contributed to history, we will build the future with a new political contract with citizens,” he said, trying to rise over past controversies and his abrasive rhetoric to sound statesmanlike.&nbsp;
GIVE AND TAKE
Lamichhane is said to be in touch with the reclusive Shah to announce a compact cabinet next week. Its composition will be an indication of how much give-and-take there was, and whether the criteria for selecting ministers is competence or loyalty.
Will RSP ministers behave like rulers or service providers? The new government will dive right into the economic fallout of the West Asia war with soaring fuel &nbsp;prices, inflation and uncertainty about remittance inflows.
On Thursday, Gagan Thapa resigned as NC chair, taking moral responsibility for the party’s election loss. The UML’s unrepentant K P Oli does not share the same sentiment about who is responsible for his own party’s historic downfall.&nbsp;
NCP chair Pushpa Kamal Dahal, who was luckier than his cross-party cohort, is now a comparative relic in a Parliament largely comprised of freshmen and sophomore lawmakers.
But the NC, UML and NCP still control provincial and most municipal governments. The old parties could try to make things difficult for the RSP at the centre, but it is also an opportunity for them to clean up their act ahead of local elections next year.&nbsp;
Another test for the RSP will be dealing with a heavily-politicised klepto-bureaucracy which has to frontend its policy decisions. &nbsp;

nepali-migrant-workers-in-lebanon

Homes away from home

Redefining the criteria for beauty

Motherhood in the Madhes

Soon, the monsoon

People’s power