This is the 79th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. <h2>Jitu Mahato</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_c150516456fed4f4408836b4b955ab937ec54df96456f1f2836d138c597ef7e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260111140148_c150516456fed4f4408836b4b955ab937ec54df96456f1f2836d138c597ef7e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> <figcaption>Jitu Mahato</figcaption> </figure>  I have three sons. My eldest worked in Saudi Arabia for ten years and then went to Dubai. My second son has lived in Dubai for four years. My youngest worked in Malaysia but came back after his company went bankrupt. Here, we don’t have much land so what they have earned has helped with the grandchildren’s education and other household expenses. My sons feed me, buy my clothes and medication. I take loans from others when I need it for our work in the field and pay them off when they send me money. My farm work is not affected without them here because they had no interest in खेती बारी anyway, even when they were here they did not want to step in the fields. Many youth have migrated from our village. Some have gone to Malaysia, others to the Gulf. Some have done well, others have not. Some buy land or pay off loans, others come back without saving much.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_086cc14e33c827865d30c07b18bf34d0d06427459ba7b44f6f9ff6b84264e9d7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260111140148_086cc14e33c827865d30c07b18bf34d0d06427459ba7b44f6f9ff6b84264e9d7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> <figcaption>Jitu Mahato with a scooter that his son brought him.</figcaption> </figure>  Children can go to school wearing better clothes because of the money migrants send home. There are both good and bad sides of foreign employment. The earnings help because without it we would die hungry. But there are no young men in the village, everyone is abroad. We are old. We are not educated. Even small things like paperwork that require someone who knows how to read and write become inconvenient without them around. During hardships, it becomes more difficult and whoever is left behind comes together to help each other in whatever way we can. My son recently bought me a scooter, as I am getting older and it has become difficult to get around. It has made it convenient to visit my daughters' house and other places. <h2>Mohan Bahadur Karki</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_cc859f5911adbc106596042b13f89007ea09652046683397351a4f7ef11bab2e.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260111140148_cc859f5911adbc106596042b13f89007ea09652046683397351a4f7ef11bab2e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1446" height="796" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> <figcaption>Mahan Bahadur Karki and his wife.</figcaption> </figure>  All three of our sons are working in Malaysia. We had trouble feeding ourselves so they wanted to go and earn for the family. Having sons overseas has helped ensure we can survive, and have clothes to wear. We used to live in a mud house in the past, which had to be repaired over and over again. Now we have a concrete house. All our children and grandchildren should have been living with us, but feels empty sometimes with just the two of us.&nbsp; We have moved many times in our life. This is the ninth place we are living in. Now we won’t move. My son sent the design of the house from Malaysia. He sent a picture of a house he liked from there to the contractor here. It is an exact replica, and people even come here to make Tiktok and music videos.&nbsp; Even in my dreams, I never thought I would one day live in a house like this. Our sons were smart, and managed it. People get surprised that I, a labourer who worked in others’ fields, live in a house like this, but we still have outstanding loans for this house. Many youth from our village have left. Some have lost their jobs and returned. Ours are thankfully okay so far, but one of our sons' companies has started laying off workers so he might be next on the list. Overtime hours have also been cut in Malaysia, they say. We will see.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_504a381f7e06431c61d75a4e890e48a786f9b3eea4e23d280dd55161378ce84d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260111140148_504a381f7e06431c61d75a4e890e48a786f9b3eea4e23d280dd55161378ce84d" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> </figure>  We have faced too many difficulties during our lifetime. We don’t know what is waiting for us next. All our lives, we have faced difficult periods uncertain about the next day, the next night. Life has been full of tests. Farming is not reliable because the rains are erratic. Too much of it this year. It was okay for paddy, but not for tomatoes. As you get older, you cannot work as much. While you have your youth, you can earn. I never got to migrate overseas, I grew old just ploughing fields. I did not get an opportunity to study. I don’t even know how to write my name. I worked as a labourer all my life to take care of the family because the land did not produce enough. Now I cannot work, even if I wanted to. I am not so strong anymore, and my mind is not as sharp. Thankfully my sons have taken over and they tell us not to work hard and to rest, they will take care of us.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_2f483a1ed383f6697f928147b2d1ab5544cca96ae4902a31ca353c135ec0bb67.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260111140148_2f483a1ed383f6697f928147b2d1ab5544cca96ae4902a31ca353c135ec0bb67" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> </figure>  They remind me not to carry heavy loads or push myself too hard in the fields. I have started getting sick more frequently. I spend quite a lot on medication. At some point, I had become near immobile for two months and could not even go to the bathroom. I had to come back from Kathmandu with medicine that cost Rs14,000. If my sons had not gone overseas, we would be relying on our farming. Things would have been tougher. We don’t know how long they will stay overseas. I heard there is a limit of ten years in Malaysia. Once they are back, maybe they will go back to the fields. What other option do they have? But we cannot always rely on overseas work either. What to do? Life’s challenges don’t go away but you have to figure ways out to deal with them. As long as there is even one breath left, we must keep fighting. <h2>Tukra Bahadur Ale Magar / Gangi Maya Ale</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_8111f8c7205ccf48f9671e1fd3661aec32bd522819447c648037f84b70a0b55f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260111140148_8111f8c7205ccf48f9671e1fd3661aec32bd522819447c648037f84b70a0b55f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> <figcaption>Tukra Bahadur and Gangi Maya Ale.</figcaption> </figure>  [Gangi] My son is in Malaysia. He sends us money and we spend on household expenses. I wish we could save money too but we have not been able to. It balances out. He could not get a job here, so he left. Parents do not want to send their children away, but what could we do? We have to spend Rs3,000 just on medicines every month. I am always worried about my son, it's not the same as having them in front of me. When he falls sick, there is no one around and he does not even get to take time off without wage deduction. Those things worry me, having him around was more assuring. Before Malaysia, he worked in Dubai for six years and was back here for two years in between. He got married then and re-migrated as responsibilities increased. The earnings of Dubai is this house. [Tukra] We used to have a small mud house but my son said we should invest in a stronger house. I did not go abroad myself because it was not common in our village back then. But now it has become a trend and our son also left. I wish I had got to migrate as well. By not migrating, I think I did not get to see the world. How is the world? How is it to earn abroad? I have never been in a plane, I just have six goats and the farm. Everything is going alright. <h2>Nirmala Rana Magar</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_92f559b9b08434a9eaeddaee13ae180304453dd300a24e7b86a8dbab78e454f6.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260111140148_92f559b9b08434a9eaeddaee13ae180304453dd300a24e7b86a8dbab78e454f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1388" height="797" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> <figcaption>Nirmala Rana Magar</figcaption> </figure>  Two of my sons are abroad. One in Kuwait, the other in Malaysia. The younger son migrated more recently and his earnings have mostly gone to pay off recruitment loans. The elder son built this house for us. Before this, we lived in a mud house which I had built with the earnings when I worked in India. &nbsp;Money is important but I miss my sons everyday. I have a lot of love for them. When you have your children, you have the world. We talk in the mornings and evenings via video calls.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260111140148_b66a6e79992800e5525b65993fa589b126b58c4a1c549a010ca88ece85891608.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260111140148_b66a6e79992800e5525b65993fa589b126b58c4a1c549a010ca88ece85891608" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="Our migrant sons NT"> </figure>  They had to move overseas because we could not survive on their earnings here. We can now afford the school fees of the granddaughters, but their dads around would have been better for them. But what can we do? We had no choice. The recent GenZ protests gave us some hope that things will be better, but it is still unsure. When will the day of the poor come? Will we ever get to live a decent life? No matter what happens, no matter who is in government, it is the poor like us who suffer. So many governments have changed but we are stuck where we were. If our children got good jobs, we would be happy.

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Our migrant sons

The Tokyo High Court this week ordered the Tokyo Metropolitan Government to pay over JPY39 million ($250,000) in damages to the family of Nepali migrant worker Arjun Bahadur Singh who died in police custody eight years ago.
The order brings justice to the family of Singh, who was 39 when he died after being handcuffed and restrained following his arrest in Tokyo in March 2017.
With help from Japanese human rights lawyers, Singh’s widow Ambika had filed a lawsuit claiming a JPY62 million compensation for her husband’s death at a police station, allegedly due to mistreatment.
The Tokyo District Court had initially ordered a compensation of only JPY1 million to the family citing reciprocity for Japanese nationals in Nepal, but after the Tokyo Metropolitan Government appealed that decision, the court slapped a much bigger amount.
“Police violated their duty to ensure that Arjun was not restrained too tightly than necessary, and it was this action that restricted his blood circulation, leading to his death,” the court order said.
It justified the higher compensation saying it calculated Singh's salary in Japan before returning to Nepal, and added: “Strict adherence to reciprocal compensation could lead to injustice and violation of international human rights law.&nbsp;
<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-from-chitwan-to-chidoya,4110" target="_blank">Arjun Singh</a> first came to Japan in 2011 as a migrant worker to work in a Nepali restaurant in Saitama Prefecture. With his savings, he supported his two daughters and wife in Bajura district in Nepal. But he fell sick and went back to Nepal where he could not pay back his debts.&nbsp;
He re-migrated to Japan, but could not hold on to his job and police picked him off the Tokyo sidewalk where he was living. In his possession, police found a credit card, which they accused him of stealing, although he had just found it on the street and had not used it.&nbsp;
Police said Singh was disorderly and violent in detention, and had to be restrained before being interrogated at the Tokyo Prosecutor’s Office. They said his handcuffs were taken off just before he collapsed and was rushed to hospital where he was declared dead. No cause of death was determined.&nbsp;
Japanese lawyer Tohru Takahashi who works for Solidarity Network with Migrants Japan, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/worker-s-widow-sues-japan-government" target="_blank">told Nepali Times in 2018</a> that a doctor's testimony showed that being handcuffed and shackled for a long period was the cause of death due to muscle necrosis.&nbsp;
Takahashi and another activist Azuma Toyohisa took Singh’s body to a Zen temple in Nagoya for an autopsy before cremation. The two activists took care of the expenses and also flew in Ambika Singh from Nepal for his funeral.&nbsp;
“If it wasn’t for the Japanese people who helped me, I would never have been able to take my husband’s ashes back to Nepal, I hope no one has to go through what I did. I couldn’t tell whether I was living a nightmare or a reality,” Ambika had told Nepali Times in 2018 after returning from Japan.
One of the Japanese lawyers defending Singh, <a href="https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2018/07/27/national/crime-legal/wife-nepalese-man-died-interrogation-sues-state-tokyo-metropolitan-government/#.W1xJsi0Q0Wo" target="_blank">Ryutaro Ogawa, told the Japan Times</a>: “This is about how foreign workers don’t get the support they need when they lose their job … I think there is a lot to learn from this case.”
The number of Nepali migrating to Japan has surged in recent years as the country sees a shortfall of workers due to a calling birthrate. There are said to be <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-from-chitwan-to-chidoya,4110" target="_blank">nearly 200,000 Nepalis</a> in Japan, mostly working in the service sector, manufacturing and studying. &nbsp;

Compensation for death of Nepali worker in Japan

This is the 66th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, and studying abroad. <h2>Siya Sada&nbsp;</h2> My husband never gets on cars or buses on his own. I cannot even imagine him flying on a plane by himself. His phobia of travel is very strong. Which is why unlike many men here in Janakpur, he never migrated.&nbsp; Instead, I sent my son to Saudi Arabia and Qatar, but both times he returned before his contract was up, with outstanding recruitment loans of Rs400,000.&nbsp; I had also taken additional loans for my daughter’s wedding. Heavily in debt, and frustrated with constant calls from the money lender, I decided to go overseas myself.&nbsp; There were other women I knew who had migrated to work as domestic workers in the Gulf and sent money home, so I decided to do the same. I did not tell anyone that I was migrating until the last minute.&nbsp; I had disappeared for 11 days in Kathmandu getting my documents ready, and my husband had gone around the village frantically looking for me with my father. I only informed them about my decision before my flight and ignored pleas from family not to leave.&nbsp; After our plane took off from Kathmandu to Kuwait, I enjoyed looking out of the window as we flew higher and higher. I worked there for six years.&nbsp; The first employer was mean spirited and terrible. She had a mischievous चकचके son whom I had difficulty taking care of. She expected me to carry his heavy toy car down four flights of stairs on my head for him to drive. This was just too much. She did not care whether I ate or not. After two years, I moved to a new family which was much nicer and treated me like family. The work was lighter because the children were all grown up and there was more consideration of my time to sleep, eat and work.&nbsp; There were no disagreements like with the previous employer, and I did as I was told उठ भने उठ, बस भने भस. The arrangement in that joint family was that each had their own domestic worker.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250501140524_cefaa6e60345191a95e702b387fea36a5b760b93a5f6d08ea89e9c3b3bf94388.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250501140524_cefaa6e60345191a95e702b387fea36a5b760b93a5f6d08ea89e9c3b3bf94388" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 65"> <figcaption>Siya Sada</figcaption> </figure>  We shared a room with an Ethiopian, Filipino and fellow Nepali. We had a strong bond between us, and we communicated with each other in Arabic which I had already picked up.&nbsp; In a foreign land, every day was a day closer to pay day. We would wait impatiently and count our fingers. I earned money, and I sent everything home to my family back in Nepal: “मैले कमाउने, परिवारले गन्ने”.&nbsp; I had plans to stay in Kuwait for 10 years but had to come back after six when I fell sick. I broke down when leaving, as I had become attached to the family I worked for.&nbsp; They bought me parting gifts like a watch, blanket, flashlight. I handed over my job to another Nepali domestic worker from Sunsari whom I trained before returning. I had managed to pay off my loans with my earnings in Kuwait, and had enough left over to buy some land and marry off my son. But since my stay was cut short, I could not manage to build a house.&nbsp; No other woman from my neighbourhood in Janakpur has migrated overseas that I am aware of. It is only men who migrate from around here.&nbsp; Perhaps I too would not have migrated if my husband had gone overseas, and my son had not returned. In addition to freeing myself from loan sharks, going overseas also widened my mind and horizon. If I had just stayed here in Nepal I would not have achieved as much, my loans would still have been unpaid. Life is back to normal now in Nepal. I am back to washing clothes with my hands and getting water from the well. I wish we could have brought back appliances like washing machines, rice cookers and vacuum cleaners but they are not practical here.&nbsp; Here, even when we leave the lights on for too long we have to worry about the electricity bill. How can we afford anything more ? I don’t even use the iron and hair dryer that I brought back. <h2>Gulbandan Devi Sada&nbsp;</h2> I spent three years and three months in Saudi Arabia and almost six years in Kuwait. It has been five years since I returned.&nbsp; My aunt-in-law had gone overseas, and I also wanted to go abroad to pay the medical bills of my sick husband and support four children. My husband supported my decision saying fate would determine if he would live or not, but we had to take care of our children.&nbsp; I traveled through India where the agent made us wait for a month. My husband died the day before my flight to Saudi Arabia. Everyone told me to continue with my journey as my husband would not return and my children needed to be taken care of. I went, and it took me a year to learn Arabic. Me and my employers relied on sign language and hand gestures to communicate with each other. It was not easy by any means.&nbsp; My employer taught me how to run the washing machine, iron and to cook as per their liking, after which she left things in my hands. Initially, I burnt clothes while ironing, broke the washing machine and my employer threatened to deduct the cost from my wages, but she thankfully did not do it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250501140524_8d09bf4a54f9e844829543d822d05e67832f51c8f2b20a9cab20a4d154525fdf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250501140524_8d09bf4a54f9e844829543d822d05e67832f51c8f2b20a9cab20a4d154525fdf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 66"> <figcaption>Gulbandan Devi Sada</figcaption> </figure>  But I found out my employer made money off of me by sending me to work at other people’s homes. I did not enjoy my stay there as she was किचकिचे demanding. I used to miss my children while taking care of her children who were of similar age. I had left them with my late mother.&nbsp; When I took care of children overseas, I had to be more cautious than with my own back home since the consequences would be severe if they fell down and got hurt while running around. With my savings, I bought land here, got my brother married and did a big puja. After a few months in Nepal, I went to Kuwait to work. This time, the experience was easier because I spoke Arabic and had gathered experience. But even there, I had to change two employers as I did not have a good experience with the families. The third house I worked in was better, and I stayed with them.&nbsp; Back home I built a house with my earnings, and married off my daughter. Although I wanted to stay longer, I decided to return because I had health issues. I worry about old age and the need to have savings, and even consider migrating sometimes. My only hope now is my children. When I returned to Nepal, my Kuwaiti employer kept calling me saying I should return because the children missed me. But I have my own children to focus on now.&nbsp;

Every day is closer to pay day

Last year, 775,000 Nepalis left for employment abroad, and another 100,000 students flew out to study overseas. Nearly a million young Nepalis left in 2021-22, and that figure does not even include those who went to India.&nbsp; This is the largest mass exodus of young Nepalis in the country’s history. No country can sustain such a sustained haemorrhage.&nbsp; There are few Nepalis left in villages, and those in cities seem to be mostly waiting for documents to leave. Every day, 3,000 Nepalis leave on student visas from Kathmandu airport. The 2021 census put the country’s absentee population at 2.1 million, and that appears to be a gross underestimate. “The youth are not keen to stay at home, and their parents do not want them to stay here either,” says sociologist Ganesh Gurung. “It seems as if the entire nation is on the move.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Migration not a wish, but necessity for Nepalis</a>, Shristi Karki <div class="embed-block"><iframe src='https://flo.uri.sh/visualisation/14955345/embed' title='Interactive or visual content' class='flourish-embed-iframe' frameborder='0' scrolling='no' style='width:100%;height:600px;' sandbox='allow-same-origin allow-forms allow-scripts allow-downloads allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation'></iframe><div style='width:100%!;margin-top:4px!important;text-align:right!important;'><a class='flourish-credit' href='https://public.flourish.studio/visualisation/14955345/?utm_source=embed&utm_campaign=visualisation/14955345' target='_top' style='text-decoration:none!important'><img alt='Made with Flourish' src='https://public.flourish.studio/resources/made_with_flourish.svg' style='width:105px!important;height:16px!important;border:none!important;margin:0!important;'> </a></div></div> An increasing number of Nepalis are leaving to study while working: primarily in Australia, Japan, Europe, and North America. Those who leave face bureaucratic hassles trying to get no-objection certificates, and when they come back they get the run around trying to obtain an equivalency for foreign degrees so they can work here. Last month, six young Nepalis from Rasuwa left their studies, jobs, and businesses to seek employment in Croatia. “With luck, I can get a PR (Permanent Residency) in some other European country, Croatia is just a stepping stone,” said Bhuvan Neupane, one of the six. Elsewhere in Nuwakot’s Bidur village, Binod Poudel is hoping to go abroad and has handed his passport to a foreign employment agent. “All my friends have left Nepal,” he says. “What am I supposed to do here?” Aakriti Timilsina is a high school graduate, and has given up on college in Nepal and is preparing to study in either Canada or Australia by working part-time there. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas">Nepal’s hard working students overseas</a>, Sonia Awale <div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Studying Abroad " aria-label="Map" id="datawrapper-chart-0JsdR" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/0JsdR/4/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border: none;" width="900" height="483" data-external="1"></iframe></div> A recent study by the online platform Studyportals revealed that Nepali students make up 14.3% of international students across the world. Sociologist Dinesh Prasain notes that a lack of employment and meaningful earnings are the primary reasons for the young to leave. Basic items have become unaffordable even in fixed-income households. But there are other push factors as well: peer pressure, falling living standards, and a growing hopelessness that the future will be better because of corruption and political disarray.&nbsp; At the end of the Maoist insurgency in 2006, there was expectation that stability would yield a peace dividend. But Nepali politics remains in the stranglehold of tried, tested and failed leaders. Volatile and populist behaviour of new elected leaders has disappointed many young people, while some parties resort to religion and bigotry.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/inconvenient-truths">Inconvenient truths</a>, Editorial  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230908040920_e0cbd240a58b106e912ff5929f838821076ca23de511298525fc5a6fb19da0d1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230908040920_e0cbd240a58b106e912ff5929f838821076ca23de511298525fc5a6fb19da0d1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Page 1"> </figure>  Young Nepalis enthusiastically voted for alternative candidates in the 2022 local and federal polls, but mayors Harka Sampang and Balen Shah have been more adept at posting inflammatory comments on social media than actually delivering on election promises. This week Shah made outright threats to burn down Singha Darbar because the car carrying his wife was stopped for speeding. The post got millions of shares and likes before he took it down. Many also took the outburst as a sign that the Kathmandu mayor offers no real hope of reform. A series of corruption scandals from fake refugees, the Baluwatar land scam, gold smuggling and politicians trying to protect each other by transferring police investigators has added to the public disillusionment. “Nepali society has lost faith in politics and the leadership to make things better,” explains sociologist Dinesh Prasain. “Nepali parents &nbsp;would rather their children go somewhere better, and youngsters do not want to remain in what they see as a sinking ship.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/false-equivalence-in-nepal-academia">False equivalence in Nepal academia</a>, Aastha Dahal <div class="embed-block"><iframe title="No-Objection Certificate for students" aria-label="Column Chart" id="datawrapper-chart-c67xC" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/c67xC/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="450" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div> Nepalis are lining up to fight in foreign armies, and even recruited themselves into both sides of the Russia-Ukraine war because of the promise of earnings and citizenship. This movement is helping keep Nepal’s economy afloat. Remittances contributed significantly to lowering Nepal’s poverty rate to below 17%, but over the long-term the cost of losing such a large proportion of the working age population is incalculable.&nbsp; Some 65% of Nepal’s total population is in the 15-64 age group, and Nepal is losing this demographic advantage. The country has only one-and-a-half decades left to take advantage of an active youth workforce. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/in-a-federal-kleptocratic-republic-of-nepal">In a Federal Kleptocratic Republic of Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki <div class="embed-block"> <iframe title="Population by age group" aria-label="Split Bars" id="datawrapper-chart-3L11U" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/3L11U/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border: none;" width="600" height="595" data-external="1"></iframe></div> Sociologist Dinesh Prasain describes the exit of young Nepalis as a moral crisis: “It is a failure of the political leadership. A country without its youth has lost its soul.” Meanwhile, Nepal’s politicians are just mouthing platitudes. Finance Minister Prakash Sharan Mahat last week urged young Nepalis to “change their mindset”, even arguing that Nepali students should be barred from studying abroad. Economist Pushkar Bajracharya says that there has to be a step-by-step strategy to create opportunities for Nepalis at home in order to prevent a brain and brawn drain: “If out-migration continues to grow as this pace, we are not only looking at a socio-economic crisis but also a threat to our sovereignty.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance">High-risk remittance</a>, Upasana Khadka

Push factors driving Nepalis out

Migrant workers returning from the Gulf and Malaysia make up 40% of infertility cases at Paropakar Maternity and Women's Hospital in Kathmandu. Studies have highlighted the problem of sterility among men who have<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/caring-for-nepals-women"> returned from working abroad</a> in extreme temperatures and are prone to unhealthy lifestyles including smoking and alcohol consumption. Sarlahi resident Sanjeev Sah had gone to Saudi Arabia for work just a year into his marriage. Concerned about his wife having to raise a child alone during his absence, 32-year-old Sah and his wife postponed their plans for a baby. Three years later after his return, the couple has not been able to conceive. They sought treatment at Paropakar Hospital in Thapathali. Sah was diagnosed with azoospermia, with no measurable sperm count. “Doctors told me that working in high temperatures abroad reduced the quality of my sperm,” says Sah. Suraj Adhikari from Dhading worked in Malaysia for three years, He married at 28 but was unable to conceive with his wife and was also diagnosed with azoospermia at an infertility clinic. Adhikari worked at a construction site in Malaysia which left him little time for basics such as food and water. Despite<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/gulf-workers-need-protection-from-heat"> extremely high temperatures</a>, he often went without water for prolonged periods because it was not always available. Doctors blame his time and lifestyle for the decline in his sperm quality. “Neglecting essentials while working abroad has led to a costly and time-consuming treatment for me,” Adhikari laments.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903040916_17d0de92dd3eb03aa0e268ca5e30187ad21900f10f86f1bc6b7e9cc7ca1d540b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230903040916_17d0de92dd3eb03aa0e268ca5e30187ad21900f10f86f1bc6b7e9cc7ca1d540b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Migrant infertility NT"> </figure>  Infertility is on the rise, globally and in Nepal. This is especially true for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">workers returning</a> from the Gulf and Malaysia, having worked in hotter temperatures. Half of the patients with childlessness visiting the outpatient department at Paropakar Maternity and Women's Hospital every day are migrant returnees. “Working conditions with high temperatures reduces the quality and quantity of sperm in young men,” confirms Vinita Thapa, sperm specialist at the hospital. Shree Prasad Adhikari, the director of Paropakar Maternity and an infertility pathologist, notes that 25 out of every 100 couples face infertility presently, and the problem has now grown particularly among those returning from foreign employment. Two years ago, Tribhuvan University Teaching Hospital conducted tests on 186 men seeking infertility treatment at the institute. Of these, 46.2% had previously worked in the Gulf. The research report, published in the journal PubMed, revealed low sperm quantity and quality in some cases as well as a very low number of sperm capable of fertilising eggs in others. According to the WHO, one in every six adults, or 17.5% of the world’s population suffers from infertility. In Nepal, where children are seen as a form of security and add to the social prestige, infertility can have far-reaching implications. An increase in infertility could also be a contributing factor to an ultimate decline in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/counting-on-nepal">population</a> together with delayed marriages. And yet, assisted reproductive technologies such as in vitro fertilisation (IVF) remain financially inaccessible and carry social stigma for many individuals.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903040916_fc6932b9f60d4f08e3c9834b4e141afba4d939726f297f9d4f1bcd8a674ebb23.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230903040916_fc6932b9f60d4f08e3c9834b4e141afba4d939726f297f9d4f1bcd8a674ebb23" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Migrant infertility NT"> </figure>  A study by the Hebrew University of Israel and Mount Sinai School of Medicine in the US found that the average sperm count globally has decreased by half over the past 50 years. The study also revealed a decline in sperm quality, including a decrease in the number of sperm capable of fertilising eggs. Between the 1970s and 1990s, the rate of sperm count decline increased from 1.16% per year to 2.64% by the early 2000s. Paropakar Maternity and Women's Hospital introduced a semen storage service in June, allowing Nepalis to preserve semen and eggs if they require delayed childbirth. For instance, young individuals going abroad for a long time can <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/freezing-a-future-family-IVF-embryo-surrogacy,3881">store semen for reproduction</a> upon their return. Additionally, if the husband is absent, the wife can undergo artificial insemination using the stored semen, a technique called intrauterine insemination (IUI). In the IUI process, women are given medication and injections to stimulate egg production. Once mature eggs are produced, they are released through an injection. About 36-40 hours after releasing the eggs, a viable sperm is selected and placed into the uterus using a catheter, explains sperm specialist Thapa. The hospital is performing IUI on four to five women on a daily basis, at Rs5,000-10,000 per procedure. If pregnancy doesn’t occur after six IUI attempts, IVF is recommended. Adds Thapa: “Many are not aware but 90% of couples facing childlessness can be treated.” Since the introduction of the storage service in June, 15 couples have inquired but only two couples have agreed to store semen. The maternity home is also launching semen and egg donation programs wherein women having difficulty producing eggs can use donor eggs and the husband’s sperm. Similarly, when their husband’s sperm isn’t viable, the wife’s egg can be combined with donor semen for insemination.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903040916_bb962f67de4e8325418117724d37ab0d9cc744195c68224e45973832aad89be1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230903040916_bb962f67de4e8325418117724d37ab0d9cc744195c68224e45973832aad89be1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Migrant infertility NT"> </figure>  “The stored semen remains effective for almost six years, retaining 60% of its initial quality,” assures Thapa. But more often than not, most childless couples fail to seek medical attention on time, resorting instead to shamans, witch doctors, and other ineffective measures. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-first-human-milk-bank">Paropakar </a>is the sole government facility providing effective treatment for childlessness at present. Hospitals often lack counselling services. Infertility treatment depends on the underlying cause ranging from pharmaceuticals to embryo implantation through assisted reproductive technologies (ART). Some 80-90% of childless couples can find solutions through regular treatment, says Paropakar director Adhikari. He adds that weight loss could be a solution for obese women struggling with infertility. In the case of blocked fallopian tubes, there are medications. For those with uterine tissue growth causing pregnancy complications, surgery can help their chances. But while normal medication can stimulate egg production, up to 50% of women facing infertility lack viable eggs. “Some older women might have reduced fertility despite having eggs. In such cases, medications and hormones can increase their capacity,” says Adhikari, adding that the government doesn’t need as much resources to fight infertility as much as it needs commitment. Treatment needs to be scaled up to reach all the district hospitals so that couples can easily access artificial insemination and other services while also promoting awareness and reducing the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/maybe-baby">stigma associated with childlessness</a> in Nepal. The fact that migrant workers who are in every sense the backbone of Nepal’s economy don't have access to treatment means it is even more crucial that infertility, the stigma and the treatment are prioritised and effectively addressed. &nbsp;

Migrants returning from the Gulf with infertility

This is the 33rd instalment of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. I still remember the first day I landed in the UAE in 2009. Dubai airport was sparkling clean, spotless. Outside, there was a fancy air-conditioned van with a smartly uniformed driver waiting to pick us up. As he cruised through the wide and clean roads effortlessly, I thought to myself that the driver looked more like a pilot. But reality soon hit. It was past 3 AM, and the scene outside started looking dirtier and dimmer as we drove further away from the airport. We had reached our labour camp and were dropped off in a dingy part of the city. This was our reality, not the glamour and the glitter of the first impression. At 18, I, too, had come to work in the country as a cleaner to add to the sparkle. Despite the disparity that quickly became evident, I found a sense of warmth in the way the Nepalis at the camp welcomed us. There were no cups, I cannot recall why. But the dais cut water bottles in half, and used the lower half to serve us tea with bread. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/finding-a-niche-in-nepal">Finding a niche in Nepal</a>, Babare Bahadur Bomjan  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230528120552_326d17bbffedb8976f6d683175327188fa8674025e58a56217ba935fcbde0e53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230528120552_326d17bbffedb8976f6d683175327188fa8674025e58a56217ba935fcbde0e53" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  They went out of their way to feed us after our long journey as they told us about our new home. I will never forget their 4 AM hospitality. &nbsp;&nbsp; As I was brushing my teeth after waking up, uncertain about what awaited me, I heard someone shout out my name. It turns out two of my school friends were already working in the same company for two years. What were the odds, I thought. I had finished Grade 12 and landed in Dubai to work so as to better my life. I used to get jealous of the village boys who came home from bidesh every two years or so for a month to relax and splurge money. It was one of those acquaintances on vacation who had advised me to make my passport. Like other Nepali youth, this was my foreign dream. My father was getting old so I had to assume responsibility of a provider. My induction training in Dubai, even for a cleaning job, was three weeks long. I had not thought of cleaning as a professional job, but here, it was being taught like it was a science. We were not going to mindlessly scrub floors, we were required to have a deeper understanding of the chemicals and cleaning tools. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/wounded-in-the-line-of-duty">Wounded in the line of duty</a>, Antare Khatri  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230528120552_3f46ed3a561e53d6023428e6baefce013098e025882249b8b320a2702a72c589.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230528120552_3f46ed3a561e53d6023428e6baefce013098e025882249b8b320a2702a72c589" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="692" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  I learnt a lot and as I scored over 80% in my assessment exam, and got placed in hotels. Those who scored lower had to work in office buildings and malls. At the hotel the manager had been secretly watching my work. He was obviously impressed because when a supervisor left he offered me the job. At just 20, I was unsure if I was up for the task as I would have to manage people significantly older than me. But I took a chance and was promoted from cleaner to supervisor. Over the next nine years in the UAE, I worked in about six hotels. I could not stay put in the same place for long because once the work would start getting repetitive, I wanted to move on to better things. From a normal hotel to a five star and subsequently to a luxury five star. I was also getting a degree in tourism on the side at an Indian-affiliated open university in Dubai. I did not manage to attend all classes because of my hectic work schedule, but I knew I needed the credentials for my future so somehow managed to complete it. My last employer in Dubai was Fairmont. Working at a five-star hotel has its perks. It is more professional, the staff is more competent. The managers had significantly better skills and experience that made you want to emulate them. There were also a lot of training opportunities. Lessons from books like Emotional Intelligence and Who Moved My Cheese? were taught in ways that injected Fairmont's values in our blood. I enjoyed my work and even got the 2018 Manager of the Year award, something I had never even dreamt would happen. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/i-went-to-earn-and-learn">“I went to earn and learn”</a>, Nawaraj Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230528120556_db73120f959e11e19fd626e9de4fd44c9c835ff45db50fd8ebc4f94480a4bed9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230528120556_db73120f959e11e19fd626e9de4fd44c9c835ff45db50fd8ebc4f94480a4bed9" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="794" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  &nbsp;At a get-together at a colleague's home, I saw a wall that was full of pictures from all over the world. I asked my friend's husband what countries he had been to. He laughed and said, "Perhaps it would be easier if you asked me what countries I have not been to." Indeed, as a flight crew, he had traveled the world. That was a turning point in my life. I had been stuck in one country for nine years, when there was a whole wide world out there. I made it a point to look for jobs that would allow me the same kind of mobility so I could broaden my horizon. Within a month, I identified a recruitment drive in Dubai for a cruise ship and passed the interview. I was to work on an Italian cruise ship as Assistant Chief Housekeeper. &nbsp;I remember the mixture of excitement and nervousness I felt when I first saw the ship at the dock: it had over 1,250 guest cabins and 800 crew cabins. It was so gigantic that when I tried to take pictures, the ship would not fit on my screen. My colleagues laughed at me saying it was a relatively small ship by industry standards and that they had worked in much bigger ones. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/migrant-worker-returns-to-create-work-at-home">Migrant worker returns to create work at home</a>, Sunil Bhujel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230528120552_1a4b4d075d8cfc9262fd9564cf6213e38942bf9dc17351eac418eb35114f8c2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230528120552_1a4b4d075d8cfc9262fd9564cf6213e38942bf9dc17351eac418eb35114f8c2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1293" height="1725" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  Life onboard is busy. Most of our guests are older people from all over the world who have the time and the money to travel around. As we hustle around the clock, it is easy to forget that we are in the middle of the ocean because the vessel is a world of its own. It does not matter where we are, really. Whether in the middle of the desert or ocean, we are working day and night to make money and provide for our families. Regardless of land or water, our lives revolve around that one day every month when we get our salary notification in our cell phone, this is what all this hustle is about. Everything else is secondary. I have now sailed to over 45 countries across the world in 17 months. It is like reading the review of a 300-page book: you just get a little taste of what those countries have to offer. At every port stop, we get to see the few main tourist spots, visit a couple of malls and have a meal before we hop back on to continue our journey. &nbsp;I make it a point to get good Indian or Nepali food, something I miss on board. But now that I am married, I am restless again. I am not as excited about traveling and meeting new people as I have been. My longing for home, to be with family, is growing stronger by the day. I can feel my priorities shifting, and it is just a matter of time before I act on it. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/for-better-or-verse-in-the-gulf">For better or verse in the Gulf</a>, Dalbir Singh Baraili Translated from a conversation with the author. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to editors@nepalitimes.com with 'Diaspora Diaries' in the subject line.

Mountain to desert to ocean

This is the 25th instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nt/here-now/diaspora-diaries/">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad.&nbsp; I am 70 years old, and finally got to travel to the UAE where two of my sons live. It was multiple firsts: the first time I left the country, the first time I got on a plane, and more importantly, it was the first time I saw what my sons, Krishna and Ram, had been describing to me for the last decades that they have been working overseas. We struggled to raise our children amidst poverty and hardship to ensure they got a good education, which was not easy. From dawn to dusk my husband and I looked for ways to ensure they were well fed and educated, while taking care of the livestock and farming.&nbsp; I did not have enough money to run a shop so I sold tidbits like chocolates, biscuits, cigarettes and bidi on a box by the wayside. Even this makeshift shop had its fair share of local customers in the village.&nbsp; When Krishna, my eldest, finished Grade 12, he decided to go abroad for employment. Not many people had left our village for overseas work in those days, unlike now when every house has someone abroad.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/baking-as-a-metaphor-for-life/">Baking as a metaphor for life</a>, Aliza Basnet  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230308060348_419a84eb70a4d3131f66fbad99bd9a7a486242bc9bc2ddc73e6ca2b5e3279b9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230308060348_419a84eb70a4d3131f66fbad99bd9a7a486242bc9bc2ddc73e6ca2b5e3279b9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="A mother's sons NT 2"> </figure>  We were worried about sending him away, but he was determined to go. The only consolation was that we had a family member in the UAE who had helped Krishna secure his job, and would be there in case he needed support. Even then, we all wept when he left home, not knowing what to expect.&nbsp; He wrote us letters every month or so, and there was much relief when they arrived. My family members used to read out those letters to me and respond on my behalf. One message in Krishna's letters to us was not to &nbsp;compromise on the education of his siblings, like he had to.&nbsp; Ever since he went to the UAE 21 years ago, as the eldest son he had taken up the role of being the guardian of my children. Despite being young himself, he provided financial support for the family back in Nepal and ensured that his siblings had a good education. Fortunately, my children did not squander this opportunity and have done well for themselves.&nbsp; Even though Krishna sent us letters, it was only two years after he left that I first got to hear his voice. The shop with the phone was three hours away from our house, and I had to walk there to speak with him. The minute I heard his familiar voice, I choked and could not utter a single word. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/turning-the-desert-green/">Turning the desert green</a>&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230308060344_2b7622565be48a5407fbb4a4bfad30eff8cdd684bd788ab58bf296c1890f04d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230308060344_2b7622565be48a5407fbb4a4bfad30eff8cdd684bd788ab58bf296c1890f04d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="719" loading="lazy" alt="A mother's sons NT 1"> </figure>  It was overwhelming and it felt like my son's voice was coming from a vacuum. The following year, he came home to visit for the first time. Since then, his trips have become more frequent.&nbsp; But this time, it was my turn to visit him in the UAE. My husband and I finally got to witness where two of my sons live. My youngest son Govinda, who is now in Nepal, is also a UAE returnee who after spending a few months there, quickly realised that if he was to progress like his brothers have in the UAE, he should first complete his studies so he returned mid-contract. I had seen the UAE through pictures and videos my sons showed me. But experiencing the place myself was completely different. The buildings are really tall, and the roads are wide. Everything is systematic.&nbsp; I especially liked how they treated my husband and me with respect in public places. We were not expected to wait in lines, for example. In Nepal, elderly people do not receive the same kind of respect.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/prisoners-of-the-green-passport/"> Prisoners of the Green Passport</a>, Mahendra Thulung Rai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230308060348_764ba063a4dd78891e9313833c53488cde096dd112fcf5926caab0bf0a3811a2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230308060348_764ba063a4dd78891e9313833c53488cde096dd112fcf5926caab0bf0a3811a2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="A mother's sons NT 3"> </figure>  &nbsp;Despite their busy schedules, my sons pampered us in the UAE for an entire month and showed us around. Even then, Krishna complains that he did not manage to take us to a couple of places he had planned because of time. I especially liked the tall aquarium and the botanical garden. We met many other Nepalis, I have lost count how many. There were at least a dozen from our own village who made it a point to come and see us. The person who drove us around was also from Arghakhanchi.&nbsp; Many of the Nepalis we met, reminded us just how lucky we were to be in the UAE. There are many Nepalis there, but not all parents have the luxury to visit their children.&nbsp; The Nepalis we met showered us with love and attention. One girl, in particular, who had lost her mother a few months back cried saying we reminded her of her parents, and that she missed them terribly. &nbsp;As we consoled her and gave her our blessings, we too could not stop our own tears.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/for-better-or-verse-in-the-gulf/"> For better or verse in the Gulf</a>, Dalbir Singh Baraili  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230308060348_09a945d0b8a91141d6a7355daf8ea087743fe52f3e0d58b093acc470101f4680.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20230308060348_09a945d0b8a91141d6a7355daf8ea087743fe52f3e0d58b093acc470101f4680" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="A mother's sons NT 4"> </figure>  There were many moments like this when we felt emotional in the UAE. After all, it is a country in which my sons spent significant periods of their lives.&nbsp; One such moment was visiting Krishna's office, a travel company that he recently started in the UAE. At the office, they welcomed us with bouquets and sacred खादा scarfs. It is his perseverance that has brought him so far.&nbsp; He started small as an office boy 17 years ago and worked his way up, supporting &nbsp;his parents and siblings on his back as he rose. I could not have been prouder. What more can a mother ask?&nbsp; The month in the UAE went by quickly and I have come back bearing gifts for my grandchildren. I tell them we will visit my sons again “बाँचियो भने” (if we are still alive). Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work/">Speaking the language of overseas work</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230308060352_714abdde7300a7d866c96050d869b77f281e0865ce049344975de509633fe467.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20230308060352_714abdde7300a7d866c96050d869b77f281e0865ce049344975de509633fe467" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="A mother's sons NT 5"> </figure>  Because we were not used to travelling, Ram had come to Nepal to escort us to the UAE, and Krishna came back with us to Kathmandu. He will spend a few weeks with us, and this will make the separation somewhat easier.&nbsp; I have six children and ten grandchildren but such is life that other than during festival times, we do not get to see everyone. As they say, “छोरीहरु अर्काको घर जाने जात, छोराहरु कमाउन जाने जात” (the daughters get married and move out, the sons get jobs and move out). &nbsp; Because of my sons, we now live in a पक्की house in Butwal, very different from our thatch-roof home in the village which had खरको छानो and later a tin roof. Our home in the village is now empty. We go there once a year during festivals, when the abandoned house comes to life temporarily as we fill it with laughter, भैलो music and singing.&nbsp; Krishna refuses to let me sell the village house even though it is locked up most of the year. He does not want to give up the clan home where he was born and raised. There is too much emotional attachment.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/cut-from-a-different-cloth/">Cut from a different cloth</a> Translated from an interview with the author. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to editors@nepalitimes.com with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.

A mother's sons

This is the 24th instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nt/here-now/diaspora-diaries/">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. [dropcap]O[/dropcap]ne of my earliest memories growing up in Butwal is my maternal uncle coming home with cakes on our birthdays. He ran a bakery and his arrival with cakes and other tasty pastries during festivities made me associate the profession with joy and good memories. Perhaps this is what instaled a passion for baking since my early childhood. Like my uncle, I also wanted to bring joy to others. From Butwal, I went to Kathmandu for further studies and an undergraduate in hotel management was a natural choice. My uncle had taught me things practically and a formal education pushed me to understand the theory behind what I had seen and learnt in his bakery while growing up. I chose baking as my specialisation. When Covid-19 hit, I immersed myself completely into the art of baking, and kept myself busy. I had moved back to Butwal and worked at my uncle’s bakery. The lockdown and closing of the world had made time available in abundance and I found ways to stay productive. From a loyal customer in my uncle’s bakery as a little girl, I had now transitioned to become his protégé, baking cakes in the mornings and bread in the evenings. It came naturally to me, and I realised that this is what I want to do all my life. Baking is exciting because it combines dedication, creativity and patience, and can transform seemingly familiar household items that are lying around in the kitchen like flour, oil and sugar to rise into mouth-watering delicacies. I particularly like preparing birthday cakes because it allows me to indirectly contribute to and become part of peoples’ lives and celebration. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/turning-the-desert-green/">Turning the desert green</a>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230303150320_267981e4e01c806b8d419798715b1067221059d8cb46ce69d899bd5edcdef0eb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230303150320_267981e4e01c806b8d419798715b1067221059d8cb46ce69d899bd5edcdef0eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1901" height="1533" loading="lazy" alt="Baking as a metaphor for life NT 2"></figure>  When things started getting repetitive at my uncle’s bakery, I moved back to Kathmandu and took up internships at Yak &amp; Yeti and the Marriott. These short-term stints were enjoyable, but what I really wanted was an actual job, and like all Nepalis, I was faced with the dilemma of staying back or leaving. Having worked in Nepal in different places already, I felt like an overseas job had more to offer by way of learning, and would give me exposure. A job advertisement for a vacancy at the Atlantis in Dubai in my college social media group caught my eyes. The ‘free visa free ticket’ scheme as advertised felt like a scam, since most recruiting agencies falsely advertise such offers despite charging workers exorbitantly. But when I asked around, I found out that the job facilitated by my recruiter, Vision and Value Overseas, indeed was free and the aspirants were not charged a single penny. This was too good to be true. Perks like these and the possibility of working at a luxury hotel made the choice to try for an overseas job easy and exciting. I applied, and the recruitment fair was conveniently held at the Yak &amp; Yeti, the hotel where I was working on a temporary contract. But my heart sank when I did not see my name in the list of selected candidates. Two months later, however, I successfully passed the interview round in another ethical recruitment drive for the same hotel by the same recruiter for which I had prepared more seriously. Until then, I had not told anyone that I had applied for overseas jobs. My baker uncle was the first person I consulted with when I had the offer, and he encouraged me to pursue my overseas dream. Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/prisoners-of-the-green-passport/"> Prisoners of the Green Passport</a>, Mahendra Thulung Rai  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230303150320_5322ce4f8213bd190624aa3dc0be6d67ce2db8bea1b7c30ce206432a902c0a27.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230303150320_5322ce4f8213bd190624aa3dc0be6d67ce2db8bea1b7c30ce206432a902c0a27" data-rendition-name="original" width="1672" height="1700" loading="lazy" alt="Baking as a metaphor for life NT 3"></figure>  It has been four months since I came here to Dubai, but I have already learnt a lot. I get to work with colleagues from diverse backgrounds, but it is also humbling to know that despite the language and cultural differences, we are all the same. Whether from Mexico, Ukraine or Nepal, we are here in search of better learning and earning opportunities with hopes of improving our lives and pursuing our passions. There is a strong emphasis on soft skills like team work and communications. While there were language barriers initially, I think my English has now vastly improved. As someone new here, I am still in my learning phase but then again, when does learning really stop? I may have learnt how to make bread in Nepal, for example, but am also exploring new methods to do so in the UAE as there are differences in the ingredients used and procedures followed. Hygiene, in particular, is of incomparable standards in the kitchen here. I also have it easier than many because my own brother and a cousin also work together in another hotel in the UAE as bartenders. Having a support system of family members overseas has definitely helped me adjust here. I earn six to seven times more than what I did in Nepal, and am able to send support to my mother and sometimes, even to my grandparents, even though they are reluctant to accept what I send. At this luxury hotel, it is common to see high profile visitors, even though waiters and those in customer facing roles get to interact with them more than we in kitchen who are behind the curtains. But I was fortunate enough to watch a Beyoncé show during our hotel opening. It was exciting beyond words. My ultimate dream is to become a Pastry Chef, but as a Commis III, I still have a long way to go. My journey has just begun. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work/">Speaking the language of overseas work</a> Translated from a phone conversation with the author. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to editors@nepalitimes.com with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.

Baking as a metaphor for life

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022120710124/639057989c7e80680e0ce164jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="667" height="1000"/><figcaption>Mural in Lalitpur highlights the human cost of FIFA World Cup infrastructure building.</figcaption></figure>On 18 December 2022, the Men’s World Cup football final will be held at Qatar’s Lusail Stadium. It will mark the end of a journey that started in December 2010 when Qatar was awarded the tournament hosting rights.18 December is also International Migrants Day, a day set aside to honour migrant workers for their contributions and sacrifice. It is also Qatar’s National Day.Over the past 12 years, millions of migrant workers have toiled to make the 2022 World Cup possible, building key infrastructure, including the stadiums in Qatar. However, these workers have always been at the margins, and the authorities have been less than responsive to their abusive work conditions.Qatar’s Labour Minister recently <a href="https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2RSS1_VHsjjDGpSpqbAe8P">rejected</a> proposals for a remedy fund for abuses faced by migrant workers, including uncompensated deaths, further highlighting the lack of recognition for the people who perform the vast majority of the country’s labour. FIFA, football’s governing body, has not made a decision.But South Asian governments, too, share responsibility for these abuses. They wasted many opportunities to collectively push for reforms to address shared concerns, including numerous unexplained, uninvestigated and uncompensated deaths, high recruitment fees, and wage abuses.The preparations for the tournament owe a lot to South Asia. It is not just that the footballs are made in <a href="https://dailytimes.com.pk/954864/sialkot-made-footballs-to-be-used-in-fifa-world-cup-2022/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://dailytimes.com.pk/954864/sialkot-made-footballs-to-be-used-in-fifa-world-cup-2022/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1NzGeZj8KixiILH3AFfWMZ">Sialkot, Pakistan</a>. Every state-of-the-art stadium in Qatar, and all of the <a href="https://dohanews.co/why-is-qatars-fifa-world-cup-the-most-expensive-in-history/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://dohanews.co/why-is-qatars-fifa-world-cup-the-most-expensive-in-history/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw36QhvzvoqCzGDLJL6mPe2s">US$220 billion</a> in surrounding infrastructure, is largely built by South Asians. Migrant workers from the region are also employed in stadiums, hotels, malls, and airports, providing key services. The remittances these workers send to their families are critical to make ends meet—often the only source of income for many families.FIFA, football’s global governing body, has been a complacent enabler of abuses, while Qatar, the host country, has faced well-deserved criticism for the high human cost of the Road to 2022. FIFA did not carry out human rights due diligence over the abusive kafala labour sponsorship system in Qatar, or the prohibitions in Qatar that keep workers from forming unions or striking.After years of pressure over the conditions, the Qatari government introduced reforms that partially addressed key abuses. The government set up a Workers’ Support and Insurance Fund that became operational in 2020 to ensure that workers are paid even when companies fail to do so. Over $320 million has been disbursed as of September 2022 — an indication of the wide-scale nature of the problem.Such initiatives have had immediate impact on families far away. One South Asian worker <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/08/12/fifa/qatar-commit-compensate-abused-migrant-workers" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/08/12/fifa/qatar-commit-compensate-abused-migrant-workers&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3rObbFC7ovQisdJ9ep2geO">told</a> Human Rights Watch in July that he waited months for the system to process his request and send his money, even contemplating suicide, knowing his family had to take loans for his children’s education and parents’ health bills.Furthermore, only a small fraction of workers secured jobs without paying illegal recruitment fees.  One lucky worker <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/10/20/qatar/fifa-reimburse-migrant-workers-recruitment-fees" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/10/20/qatar/fifa-reimburse-migrant-workers-recruitment-fees&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2Lo8cYNRViKeJkCdZGqNyn">said,</a> “If I had not come for free and had paid recruitment fees as is common for Indians, my first paycheck would be going to the local money lender back home, and not to my mother.”But most of the migrant workers ‘paid to build’ the multibillion infrastructure project in the scorching heat. A 2020 <a href="https://www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/---asia/---ro-bangkok/---ilo-dhaka/documents/publication/wcms_766198.pdf" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/---asia/---ro-bangkok/---ilo-dhaka/documents/publication/wcms_766198.pdf&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0Brh7VArawHHhAGhRxsxTK">survey</a>found that the  average recruitment costs for Bangladeshis going to work in Qatar was around $3,863, equivalent to 18 months of  earnings in Qatar. A significant portion of the remittances are simply spent to pay off loans taken to get these jobs.Companies affiliated with Qatar’s Supreme Committee for Delivery and Legacy, the body responsible for planning and delivering World Cup infrastructure, have committed to reimburse over $28 million in recruitment fees to 48,814 workers in Qatar. While a positive initiative, its impact is inadequate considering that it does not cover most migrant workers who helped build and service the necessary infrastructure for the World Cup. At any given time, there are over 2.2 million temporary migrant workers in the country.Qatar deserves credit for attempting reforms, but the benefits have been limited due to their late introduction, narrow scope, or poor enforcement. This is why Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International and other organisations have called on FIFA and Qatari authorities to remedy past and ongoing abuses during World Cup preparations, including deaths, injuries and wage theft.Despite growing pressure from sponsors, football associations, former players and fans, FIFA is dragging its feet while the Qatari Labour Minister rejected the call last week, labelling it “a publicity stunt.”Qatar and FIFA still have a chance to shape the legacy of the World Cup. They have the resources and responsibility to remedy these abuses.The labour minister <a href="https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2RSS1_VHsjjDGpSpqbAe8P">said</a> that “every death is a tragedy”. But the greatest tragedy is that the authorities failed to properly investigate the causes of many worker deaths, deeming them ‘natural’, ‘unexplained’, or ‘cardiac arrests’, leaving their families without compensation because these causes are not considered work-related. Without adequate investigation, deaths caused by working conditions such as heat stress have gone uncompensated.FIFA has provided a total of $260 million of what it calls ‘legacy funds’ for humanitarian causes to host countries for three previous tournaments: in South Africa (2010), Brazil (2014) and Russia (2018). Qatar should be no different. It needs to set up a remedy fund for abused workers and the families of those who died unless it wants its legacy for the 2022 World Cup to be about worker abuse.There is one last opportunity for South Asian governments to back the call for a remedy and to work to ensure stronger protections for their workers. In particular, they are well placed to respond to <a href="https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2RSS1_VHsjjDGpSpqbAe8P">Qatari authorities</a> who claimed there is no data to establish these funds, with the Qatar Labour Minister <a href="https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://amp.france24.com/en/live-news/20221102-qatar-rejects-compensation-fund-for-world-cup-migrant-workers&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2RSS1_VHsjjDGpSpqbAe8P">asking</a>: “Where are the victims, do you have names of the victims, how can you get these numbers?"South Asian governments can be an important resource to connect FIFA and Qatari authorities with families of migrant workers. This requires a detailed review of the existing databases and welfare systems. The Qatar government and origin country governments also have <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/07/11/families-bring-home-migrant-worker-remains-qatar" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/07/11/families-bring-home-migrant-worker-remains-qatar&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667731753799000&amp;usg=AOvVaw119geBHsZHFpkVL5gX3A6_">data</a> of worker deaths because of the bureaucracy that families have to navigate to repatriate deceased loved ones. Origin country governments can also seek support from local civil society groups and media to locate families of deceased workers and other victims, putting out calls for information on national media outlets and government websites.The problem of establishing a compensation fund for migrant workers and their families has never been about data, —which is available, but about political will.Only if there is remedy will this tumultuous, 12-year journey end on a more humane note on 18 December 18, the day of the final of the 2022 World Cup, and more important, the International Migrants Day and Qatar’s National Day.Meenakshi Ganguly is the South Asia director at Human Rights Watch and Mohna Ansari is former member of Nepal’s National Human Rights Commission.

Labour rights legacy of the FIFA World Cup

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cac9c7e80680e0bd4a3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="1276"/><figcaption>Ajay Shrestha in his cricket jersey during happier times. All photos: courtesy ANIL SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>I left for the UAE six years ago. It was a struggle to adjust to the new environment, but the country gave someone like me who had arrived with no experience a platform to work hard, and make a decent living.I started as a crew member at a restaurant, and by the end of six years, was working as an assistant manager making five times more than my starting salary.I did not have any reason to leave the UAE given my job security and attractive benefits, but my younger brother, Ajay, who was based in Malta wanted me to join him there.“Europe is Europe,” he used to say.My only motivation to go there was to be with my brother. Why live in two separate places when there is opportunity to be together to support each other, to celebrate festivals together, and create some semblance of a ‘home? My mother also loved the idea of her sons being together.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721caf9c7e80680e0bd4a4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1200"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>He helped me find a job in Malta, also in the restaurant line. The salary was not all that different from what I was making in the UAE.When I joined my brother in Malta on 31 January  this year,  it had been three years since I had last seen him. We were thrilled. What I did not know then was that it would be a reunion that would change the trajectory of our lives.In addition to the excitement to see me, he was also looking forward to his trip back to Nepal on 1 March. He was already in holiday mode, excited to be back for the first time since he got here.A cricket fanatic, he had set aside a 1,900 euro fund to organise a game back home through a cricket academy in Bardia that a common friend had set up.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-1/">Diaspora Diaries 1</a>, Nepali Times<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cb39c7e80680e0bd4a5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A mother’s boy, he was trying to decide between different mobile sets to buy for her, and also for an uncle.He worked as a bike delivery rider in Malta and in the morning of 16 February, he was scrolling through his phone when he got a delivery request and decided to take it up. Every extra euro would help, he said.I was playing a game on my phone and barely paid attention as he left the apartment. He later called from below the apartment to ask me to pass his power bank that he had left. As a delivery boy, it was an essential he could not afford to leave behind.He called again me to tell me to throw him his purse from the balcony. He caught it with a grin. Sloppy boy, I thought.A while later, I got a call from a fellow Nepali. He told me to go to the hospital because Ajay had met with an accident, about three kilometers from our apartment.I could feel my soul leave my body when I heard the news as I rushed to the hospital. As soon as I arrived, I was told by the doctor that Ajay was no more.The fact that he had come back twice to take his phone charger and wallet still haunts me. He had died on the spot when a truck hit him. Perhaps if he had not been delayed by those couple of minutes due to his absentmindedness, he would still be alive. The difference a few split seconds would have made.Needless to say, I was shocked beyond belief. How could this have happened? My eyes hurt to see my brother as he lay there in the hospital, as if we was in peaceful sleep. He looked normal and was still warm.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Diaspora Diaries 2</a>, Nepali TimesMy mother back in Nepal had to be rushed to hospital as she collapsed after hearing the news. This added to my grief and worry.In that abyss, I felt numb, unable to process what was going on. It had been only 17 days since I had arrived in Malta. Everything was a blur.Back in my brother’s apartment as I wept, I could not comprehend what was going on and what was next. I had to figure out how to take my brother’s body home. I did not know anyone there, or how the system worked.Friends came to the apartment to pay their respects. They were all in tears, and hugged me, brought me food and made sure someone was always at my side. I have no idea who these people were, but they were all Ajay’s friends and they were there for us, and to support me.Growing up, I was always the quiet one, and Ajay the more outgoing sibling. I used to be known as ‘Ajay’s Dai’ rather than Anil. Even in his death, I was ‘Ajay’s Dai’, surrounded by his friends, in an unfamiliar country, among unfamiliar people.It was also evident how much goodwill Ajay had garnered in Malta. I had at least five Nepalis who came to me to repay money they had borrowed from Ajay. They didn’t have to but they did. They were in tears.Many recounted memories of how he had helped them when they were struggling financially. In the following weeks, there were football games organised in his memory with moments of silence in his tribute. My brother, he had left a mark among many.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/">Diaspora Diaries 3</a>, Nepali Times<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cb79c7e80680e0bd4a6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>These stories of death in a foreign land are common. It is a familiar sight for us Nepalis to see coffins arrive at Kathmandu airport. Most of them are on flights from the Gulf, where I spent six years.But this was the first fatality among Nepalis in Malta. Even the Prime Minister of Malta and the Mayor reached out to me and extended their condolences. The Nepali community there was stunned. Nepalis and Maltese friends crowdfunded for his repatriation, to support our family, and raised nearly Rs2.8 million with which we could send the body to Nepal.How do you describe the feeling of being on a plane with your brother in the cargo hold in a box? How can you talk about bringing a younger sibling’s body home to your parents?<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cb99c7e80680e0bd4a7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On the flight back home, I kept thinking about how my brother had brought me to Malta just weeks before he died. It was as if he had wanted his elder brother to take care of him, and bring him home.Had I been in the UAE, there was no way I would have been able to go to Malta to do that. The longer the wait, the more difficult it would have been for my parents, since seeing my brother’s body and completing the final rites at least provided them a sense of closure.Here in Bardia, the days are passing slowly. My priority is to take care of my parents who are distraught. My mother is almost  unrecognisable with shock and loss of appetite. She has no more tears left to shed.Things were just starting to look up for us. Three months ago, we bought our father a scooter so he could get around more easily than in his bicycle.My brother and I had just moved in together in Malta, and this happened. Nothing makes sense. I now want to find ways to keep my brother’s memories alive, and to fulfill his dreams.We organised the cricket tournament in his memory, and the finals were on Monday. A team from Banke district won.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-4/"> Diaspora Diaries 4</a>, Nepali Times<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cbc9c7e80680e0bd4a8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="403"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Both us brothers were very fond of cricket growing up, perhaps because India is right across the border. But back then we could not even afford the basic equipment.We played with a tennis ball, and even that was expensive. We made our own bats. My brother had wanted to make sure that children of our home village would not have to suffer the same deprivation.Just a month before his death, my brother had sent another Rs15,000 to the sports academy to organise the tournament.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cbf9c7e80680e0bd4a9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="958"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On the opening day, I wore one of his favorite jerseys that said ‘AJ’ on the back. It is the little things that remind me of him, and make me suddenly burst into tears without warning. There are many memories of our childhood that make me feel simultaneously close to him, while reminding me of the cruel reality that he is not around anymore, and he will never be.The jersey is among his possessions that I brought back with me from Malta, leaving nothing behind in his apartment that I gave up before returning.I don’t think we will ever learn to move on from this loss. But perhaps one day we will learn to live with it.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-qatar-job-mirage/">The Qatar job mirage</a>, Nepali TimesTranslated from Nepali. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.

Fate joins, then separates, siblings

At the stroke of the midnight hour, it finally came to something everyone in Nepal’s oldest and biggest party had been dreading — a split.
Not that this was anything new. The Nepali Congress (NC) had splintered twice before and the main protagonist both times was five-time prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba. After the GenZ uprising and being physically mauled and his house looted and set on fire on 9 September Deuba had said he was stepping aside, but it seems old ambitions die hard.
The showdown between the Gagan Thapa-Bishow Prakash Sharma camp and Deuba came to a head on Wednesday as the establishment leadership decided to suspend Thapa, Sharma, and Farmullah Mansoor for five years to punish them for daring to challenge the leadership and hold a special general convention.&nbsp;
Bhrikuti Mandap in the centre of Kathmandu is the venue for trade exhibitions, but this week it was where an exhibition of everything that is wrong with Nepali politics was on full display — lack of internal party democracy and an unaccountable gerontocracy clinging on to power.&nbsp;
Thapa and Sharma had gathered the support of 62% of the NC membership at their convention and chose Gagan Thapa as the new party leader and proposed him as a prime ministerial candidate after the 5 March election.
Deuba’s allies had refused to attend or endorse the special general convention, and were adamant about holding a general convention to choose a new party head after the election. Thapa, Sharma and their supporters argued that the party faced ignominious defeat in the polls if Deuba insisted on being prime minister again.
The events of September 2025 have cast a long shadow over Nepali politics, with many new parties and alliances pledging to represent the aspirations of the GenZ movement. However, that realisation does not seem to have dawned on the tried, tested and failed leadership of the NC, UML and the NCP where the party leaders have held on to power by sidelining all rivals. &nbsp;
Thapa and Sharma were NC general secretaries held multiple rounds of discussions to convince Deuba to accept their eight-point demand that for the party’s and the country’s sake his time was up, and he should cut and cut cleanly. Despite having already handed over the party leadership to Purna Bahadur Khadka in September, Deuba refused to step down.&nbsp;
‘What demands has the Nepali Congress been unable to reconcile that it is headed for a split? There is no ideological dispute, just a proposal to make it easier to go for the election,’ noted journalist and author Narayan Wagle. ‘If those who have been in politics for so many years cannot reach an agreement, what have they learned in life and what hope is there for the country?’
Gagan Thapa was elected unopposed as the new party president on Thursday midnight, with Sharma and Pushpa Bhusal appointed vice-presidents. Thapa has said backroom talks are still ongoing though mediators, but for all intents and purposes the split seems irreconcilable.&nbsp;
The million dollar question now is: who gets to be the real Nepali Congress? Who gets the NC’s tree election symbol at the polls?
Both the Thapa and Deuba factions have written to the Election Commission (EC) laying claim to the party and its symbol. Whatever the EC decides, with less than two months to go for the polls, the dispute over its legitimacy will almost certainly have to be decided in the courts.
Deuba and his counterpart K P Oli in the UML have been unwilling or unable to fathom the level of outrage that young Nepalis feel about their parties. They have shown an inability to heed the call for institutional overhaul within parties and in Nepal’s political culture post-September. Second generation leaders within those parties who have grown old waiting for reform, seem to have better internalised the need for internal restructuring.&nbsp;
Oli has managed to hold on to power after displaying increasing authoritarianism within his UML, while Deuba has shown an unwillingness to bow out of leadership with grace. Both have squandered away their legacy.
For Gagan Thapa, the events of Thursday was a culmination of his long-standing claim for leadership change within the NC coupled with a compulsion to address the demands of the youth movement to maximise gains for his party this election. Just like Deuba, Thapa’s house was also looted and torched during the September protests.
Thapa told Onlinekhabar on Thursday: “Our belief was that we cannot go into elections under the present circumstances under [Sher Bahadur Deuba’s] leadership and with him as the party’s prime ministerial candidate. We would lose.”
The special general convention has taken further steps for reform, endorsing amendments to the party statue, which has set term limits for key leadership positions, including a one-term limit for party president, two-term limit for prime minister, three for a ministerial position, and four terms for a directly elected member of Parliament. Meanwhile, party members are only allowed to become lawmakers through the Proportional Representation system for one term.&nbsp;
If Thapa’s leadership holds legitimacy, this new chapter for the NC might come as a welcome change to young Nepalis who have been calling for leadership overhaul and internal party reforms within the establishment parties. But it may also come at the cost of the NC’s core base. It remains to be seen which side tips the scale at the polls.&nbsp;
The NC’s infighting and institutional shake-up has also posed fresh concerns about how it will affect the election schedule just as it looked as though all the mainstream political parties were finally on board and preparing for the polls. With voting barely weeks away, Nepal’s political parties are still too busy cleaning up their own house to give too much time to work on their platforms, agendas and serious campaigning
Historically, political break-ups and make-ups in Nepal are not set in stone. Even the newest alliance between Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP and Kulman Ghising’s UNP did not even last 12 days. &nbsp;Balen Shah is set to resign from his mayor position in the next and has gotten into the thick of election preparation with the RSP. His next step will be to choose which constituency he is going to contest from.
Meanwhile, in the light of a new day, the two NC factions may still decide that breaking up is hard to do when they are so close to elections, and the political stakes are so high.&nbsp;

Grand split in Nepal’s grand old party

The India Art Fair (IAF) advertises itself as ‘the biggest event in India’s cultural calendar … a leading platform’ for art collectors who can discover modern and contemporary art from South Asia.&nbsp; For this year’s ticketed event on 5-8 February in New Delhi, more than 133 exhibitors from 14 countries will be representing top artists from their networks. Danfe Arts, a touring art space from Kathmandu, will participate in the Galleries Section of IAF’s 17th edition featuring a booth with works by six Nepali artists.&nbsp; One of them is Sanjeep Maharjan, Assistant Professor for Sculpture at Kathmandu University, who will showcase his claywork as part of Danfe Arts’ entourage. In 2024, Maharjan curated a show for Danfe Arts at Takpa Gallery titled, ‘Unfolding the City’. The IAF prefers to showcase skilled artists who have honed their practice over many years. Much like various biennales and residencies that have been popping up increasingly in Asia, the Fair delves into sociopolitical issues of the region such as many comissioned works including <a href="https://indiaartfair.in/exhibitor/yogesh-barve-supported-by-art-charlie" target="_blank">Yogesh Barve</a>’s installation entitled ‘I am not your Dalit’ featured at the feastival last year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260115110136_13f262546fca46c0fe4d76f758a694afe7c0c1cfee5bf74eb4f257f78734f8f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260115110136_13f262546fca46c0fe4d76f758a694afe7c0c1cfee5bf74eb4f257f78734f8f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="989" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artists at India Art Fair"> <figcaption>Anil Shahi's Hand of Hope, Oil on Canvas, 36 x 60 inches. Exhibiting work at IAF.</figcaption> </figure>  As the name implies, it is a grand bazaar where artists and their agents show up, to be seen — a powerful regional platform where creativity merges with commercial interests. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Artists have a reputation for being weak at business.&nbsp; And in Kathmandu, where the contemporary art scene has been steadily expanding since the early aughts, more and more creatives are seeking platforms like IAF and collaborators like Danfe Arts in order to boost their portfolios. A NEW COURSE In 2022, I was invited to participate in a formal group discussion by founder of and curator at Danfe Arts Shivangi Bansal who was preparing to chart a new course with her Danfe Journal. The journal included photos of artworks as well as writings about art and helped bridge the gap between art and the Nepali public’s understanding of associated processes. Contemporary art and literature is considered a niche activity. Proper marketing and outreach is required to make the product accessible to the average consumer. Besides, consistency can also be an issue. Too often, energetic graduates might register organisations and launch initiatives only to burn out within a year or so. Nepali society would benefit more from a sustained effort with a long-term vision rather than trendy initiatives that look bright and shiny. Danfe Arts discontinued the journal but continued to engage with Nepal’s art community, like facilitating a commission for Mini Tamang by the India Art Fair (IAF) in 2025, as part of IAF’s Young Collector’s Program. Tamang’s artwork, ‘Evocative Waves’, was installed at New Delhi’s Stir Art gallery last year. In 2024, Danfe Arts had organised a group exhibition called ‘A Lake That Once Was’ in New Delhi’s Bikaner House to coincide with the India Art Fair, which listed the exhibition as part of its parallel programs. This meant the Nepali artists received more visibility and value among IAF’s much larger audience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011804014_2a15d57a63c375503965a41396b22c006152368a018450d2617f4c8c076ccc74.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026011804014_2a15d57a63c375503965a41396b22c006152368a018450d2617f4c8c076ccc74" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="arts"> <figcaption>A Lake That Once Was, 2024 at Bikaner House, Delhi.</figcaption> </figure>  Since its inception, Danfe Arts has put out an eclectic mix of programs, demonstrating innovative thinking and effort. With its multi-platform approach, Danfe Arts has collaborated with restaurants like Mezze, putting up an exhibition in November 2025, ‘Bhoye - The Feast’. Danfe Arts is also cultivating relationships with specific artists based on synergies and sensibilities.&nbsp; The history of art practice in Nepal is long and illustrious, but due to political and geographical constraints, esteemed artists have been sheltered and confined within our national borders.&nbsp; By featuring these six artists for the 2026 edition of IAF, Danfe Arts is helping them make regional connections. And as our artists and gallerists show up on global platforms, they might in turn compel Nepalis to view more critically the value of art and how creative practices can contribute positively to society. As technology takes over and AI bots spam the Internet, the issue of originality might become tantamount to survival. We should take risks in our professional pursuits in order to design new communal models of exchange. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; India Art Fair New Delhi 5-8 February&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011804014_f226a31af8a33f8da5e7359886289de3fd1b2db17697b96b909404e582d75124.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026011804014_f226a31af8a33f8da5e7359886289de3fd1b2db17697b96b909404e582d75124" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1875" loading="lazy" alt="arts"> </figure>

Nepali artists at India Art Fair

Only a handful of people who witnessed the 1934 megaquake as children are still alive. And the memories of 2015 are fading fast.&nbsp;
We were shaken, but have not stirred into action. We have not even started preparing to be prepared for the inevitable, for it is not a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’.&nbsp;
Thursday 15 January was National Earthquake Safety Day commemorating the 1934 disaster that killed 10,000 people in Kathmandu Valley at a time when its population was barely 100,000.
Nepal is in an active seismic zone, and a really big one is overdue in the seismic gap in western Nepal where there has not been a megaquake for 500 years. The 7.8M quake in 2015 did not completely release the tectonic stress below Central Nepal.
An 8M+ earthquake epicentred in western Nepal will be even more violent than the 2015 one in Kathmandu and will be powerful enough to cause destruction across northern India as well.&nbsp;
We Nepalis are resilient, but we are also complacent and fatalistic. How else does one explain the unsafe and unplanned building construction in Kathmandu, Pokhara and other towns despite frequent reminders of what quakes can do?&nbsp;
Most designs are ad hoc and follow no engineering logic. Reinforced Cement Concrete (RCC) is now widespread across the country since such structures mostly withstood the 2015 event. But structural engineers say most concrete buildings are substandard, and can be death traps. Also, the country lacks equipment and training for search and rescue in cement houses.&nbsp;
FIRE HAZARD
If an earthquake struck Kathmandu on a windy winter evening, there is the added risk of fires from gas cylinders in collapsed buildings spreading across the densely packed city core. Fire trucks will not be able to reach those areas because the streets will be blocked.
Seismic risk is now amplified by climate breakdown. Nepal now needs to factor in the co-hazard of massive avalanches and Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) triggered by future earthquakes. There are 41 potentially dangerous glacial lakes in the region, and 27 of them are in Tibet feeding rivers that flow into Nepal. A megaquake there could cause multiple simultaneous GLOFs.&nbsp;
If the 2015 earthquake had not happened on a Saturday, tens of thousands of children could have been killed in the 7,000 schools that were flattened. More than 2,500 government buildings came down, and would have killed and trapped many if it had not been a weekend.
Schools and health facilities retrofitted before the disaster were unscathed, and served as shelters for survivors. Chhatrapati Free Clinic (CFC) was reinforced three years before the earthquake for Rs5.2 million, and with support from National Society of Earthquake Technology (NSET), 800 community members were trained in search and rescue.
Bhuwaneswori Secondary School in Bhaktapur and Bal Bikas Secondary School in Kathmandu both survived 2015 because they had been retrofitted. Singha Darbar, the Supreme Court and the Department of Roads buildings were also made seismic resistant after 2015 quake, but the arson attacks on 9 September gutted them.
While many private residential homes built after 2015 continue to flout building codes, municipalities are now stricter. New schools and colleges, hospitals and high rises now have to meet stringent requirements for seismic resistance.
Nepal is a hotspot for many types of disasters — earthquakes, floods, droughts, glacial outbursts, wildfires. These are not ‘natural’ disasters, they are human induced. Earthquakes do not kill people, poorly-built buildings do. Climate breakdown is anthropogenic.&nbsp;
Waiting for a disaster to strike means we have waited too long. Search and rescue readiness are well and good, but much more important is preparedness — seismic resistance structures especially of public buildings, strict zoning to establish open spaces, pre-positioning supplies and simulated drills.
We do not know how much time we have before the next one. But it is not too late to start preparing. &nbsp;
Sonia Awale

Shaken, but not stirred

The series <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Nepal Made</a> profiles world-class Nepali products and the people behind them. Deepak Acharya was born and raised in Simara, before his uncle took him to Pokhara when he was only in sixth grade. After class, he helped sell jackets and outdoor gear at his uncle's Lakeside store. &nbsp; Twenty-two years later, &nbsp;Acharya is still selling jackets. Not international brands like he used to, but products of his own outdoor gear company, DOLPO.&nbsp; Acharya and his brother-in-law, Krishna Ammai, started making and selling jackets and gear for international companies out of Thamel. After losing his business partner in the 2015 earthquake, he was done selling imported items. He launched his own line of outerwear, named after Nepal’s rugged and remote district, known for its stunning arid landscape. The careful selection of the name DOLPO paid off. It took off, providing a high-quality, affordable Nepal-made alternative to foreign companies.&nbsp; “A lot of work went into choosing the name Dolpo,” says Acharya, who considered what came into people’s minds when they heard the name of a place with double-O sound. “I wanted a brand that local customers would instantly relate to toughness and mountains.” The elegant logo reflects this as well, made up of two overlapping rounded triangles denoting mountains with a third peak in the middle. Underneath is ‘DOLPO’ in upper case sans serif.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260116120148_968d9354094049265372d851d0e44e16ae4fc86b5631481e365e6e977f13d37d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260116120148_968d9354094049265372d851d0e44e16ae4fc86b5631481e365e6e977f13d37d" data-rendition-name="original" width="854" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Dolpo NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DOLPO</figcaption> </figure>  RIGHT QUALITY, RIGHT PRICE “Our philosophy is Right quality, Right price,” says co-founder Deepak Acharya, adding with a smile that the pricing strategy of a particular competitor has made business easy: “The employees at North Face may sell North Face, but they wear Dolpo.” The rebranding was so successful that Acharya regrets not launching it sooner. The reason for the success is that the outdoor gear market in Nepal has taken off with more and more domestic tourists trekking in the high mountains to share their adventures on social media.&nbsp; Nepalis seem to be consciously choosing sustainable, Nepal made products of international quality. Acharya says: “Of course, there will always be a demographic that only wears North Face, or Sonam. But we have the right design, right price philosophy.”&nbsp; DOLPO uses fabric and material mainly from Japan, and adheres to strict quality control. The reversible down jackets, windcheaters, shorts, fleece-lined pants, trekking trousers, backpacks, and polo shirts can be bought through its website, or two exclusive flagship stores in Sorakhutte and Thamel Chok. “After the rebrand, we slowly made a digital platform, marketed online, and worked with a delivery company to get items directly to buyers,” says Acharya. “We have no brokers or middlemen to keep prices low for the consumer.” DOLPO is a family business with Acharya’s mother and sister also involved, and nephew Nishant Ammai driving digital sales. Acharya points out that there is a lot of business opportunity in Nepal, as there are too many low-quality products being sold at too high a price. &nbsp;“The market is begging for an auto-correction,” he says. For Nepal’s pessimistic youth who are fleeing the country, Acharya urges patience: “The younger generation wants shortcuts. The mindset is to set up a venture and in three years they will be set for life. But this is not how success works.” “Choose a field, put in ten years of effort, really learn about it, and then you will see the vast possibility present in Nepal,” he continues.&nbsp; Last month, the DOLPO logo was seen on the jerseys of the Biratnagar Kings in NPL 2. The company made hats, jackets, and jerseys for star-studded cricket players including Lokesh Bam, Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf Du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. The Kings finished second in the group, and although Acharya is a football fan, he is happy to contribute to the rise of cricket in Nepal. &nbsp;&nbsp;

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