While most Nepalis understand ‘media’ to mean tv (21.5%) and radio (20.6%), younger, urban, and educated audiences also equate Facebook (19.9%) and YouTube (16.9%) with 'media'. In provinces like Sudurpaschim, reliance on radio (40.4%) and tv (30.7%) far outpace digital platforms, but in Bagmati Province, Facebook (35.4%) and YouTube (32.8%) are more common sources of news. Respondents with at least a Bachelor’s degree are far more likely to associate media with both traditional and digital platforms, with 59.3% mentioning tv, 54.7% radio, and 42.1% citing Facebook. Defining Facebook as ‘media’ reflects its accessibility and role in delivering diverse, user-generated content that resonates with younger, urban, and educated audiences. This shift indicates a transition from traditional gatekeeping to algorithm-driven news consumption. Madhes and Karnali Provinces, with lower literacy rates and limited access to electricity and local media outlets, show lower media engagement. On the other hand, Bagmati and Gandaki Provinces have higher adoption of both traditional and digital platforms, indicating that media habits are shaped by infrastructure and socio-economic status.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226151224_88ff2e60339e15f20999c74052a4a4c1ddb5832218221b06fdc3c13bae550f4c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241226151224_88ff2e60339e15f20999c74052a4a4c1ddb5832218221b06fdc3c13bae550f4c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Media Survey 2024"></figure>  However, a high proportion of ‘Don’t Know’ responses indicates gaps in media awareness, particularly in areas like Madhes Province, and among less-educated populations. For Nepal’s media sector, therefore, the challenge is to navigate this evolving landscape by balancing the strengths of traditional media with the growing demand for accessible and engaging digital content. While digital news is steadily gaining ground, tv and radio remain relevant for significant population segments. Print media, however, is in steady decline. News on mobiles  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226141212_fd348dd2ddfe3b1035accf96a2959c179c80886f24244938276ebfd9288dd91c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241226141212_fd348dd2ddfe3b1035accf96a2959c179c80886f24244938276ebfd9288dd91c" data-rendition-name="original" width="868" height="645" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Media Survey 2024"></figure>  Digital platforms are increasingly the preferred medium for news, with 46.8% of respondents using the internet (33% of surveyed population) saying they read the news on their mobiles or computers. This trend is most pronounced in Gandaki (69.5%), Bagmati (53.2%), and Kosi (57.0%) Provinces. The younger, better educated are leading this digital shift. For example, 83.3% of respondents with higher education consume news digitally, compared to just 13.1% of illiterate respondents. The gap is evident in regions like Madhes, where only 19.9% engage with digital news, underscoring disparities in access and adoption. This digital transition can be attributed to the accessibility and convenience of mobile devices and the internet, the immediacy of digital news, and the interactive nature of online platforms. Younger and educated audiences increasingly prefer digital platforms for personalised and real-time content, which mainstream press often cannot match. Additionally, the declining relevance of traditional media in some regions stems from their limited ability to adapt to the fast-paced, on-demand consumption habits that digital platforms readily fulfill. This shift underscores the growing importance of technological access and user-centric content in shaping media preferences. Despite its gradual decline, television remains a significant medium, with 37.3% of respondents saying they have watched tv in the past three months. Tv is strongest in Bagmati (48.0%) and Kosi (43.6%) provinces, while Karnali lags at 22.7%. Respondents with higher education (60.7%) are more likely to watch tv than their less-educated counterparts with a notable gender disparity.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226141212_775249f428ea98b1749613cf86585eaadc8382fb8145e2c9c609ddab6e9a7ab4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241226141212_775249f428ea98b1749613cf86585eaadc8382fb8145e2c9c609ddab6e9a7ab4" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="587" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Media Survey 2024"></figure>  Radio, once a dominant medium, now caters to a shrinking audience (32.2%). Print media faces the steepest decline (only 13.8% saying they read a newspaper or magazine in the past 6 months), with higher engagement only among urban (28.2%) and educated audiences. Lowest print usage is in Karnali (5.7%). But print still has remarkable staying power among those with higher education (53.4%). Of the surveyed population, 58% say they go to at least one of the legacy media, whereas 73% have internet access. The message for the mainstream press: innovate to remain relevant. Print outlets must rethink strategy, perhaps by targeting urban and educated audiences with specialised or niche content. Previous surveys had shown that many Nepalis would read print if it was available. Nepal’s media landscape is at a tipping point, and the industry must adapt to the changing and diverse needs of an evolving audience. In media we trust  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226141212_d75127854185d1b944d0e2979824c064c3284c706711a41bba47c1ba07f4839b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241226141212_d75127854185d1b944d0e2979824c064c3284c706711a41bba47c1ba07f4839b" data-rendition-name="original" width="844" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Media Survey 2024"></figure>  Respondents who primarily associate media with the mainstream press are more likely to express ‘Complete Trust’ or ‘Mostly Trust’ driven by the credibility they have built over the decades. Conversely, digital media audiences, while appreciating its accessibility and interactivity, have cautious optimism about the credibility of their content. Bagmati Province with Kathmandu Valley’s media hub leads in trust, with 47.2% expressing ‘Somewhat Trust’. While urban respondents generally report higher trust levels, there is some skepticism in rural areas. Younger respondents aged 16–24 show the highest levels of trust of digital platforms, highlighting their greater engagement and openness to newer forms of media. By contrast, older demographics, (age 60 and above) show lower trust and more uncertainty about online content. This generational divide shows that legacy media need to meet the expectations of younger audiences, while maintaining relevance for older groups. Respondents with higher education consume media more diversely and report higher trust levels (55.4%), while 45.2% of illiterate respondents remain uncertain, reflecting broader literacy, access, and inclusivity issues in the media landscape. The Nepal Media Survey 2024 shows a media landscape in which traditional and digital media coexist. While trust in media remains relatively strong, significant gaps in representation and accessibility persist across regions, age groups, and educational levels. Not surprisingly, younger urban audiences gravitate towards interactive digital platforms, while older and rural populations continue to rely on traditional media. However, pervasive uncertainties among specific demographics highlight the need for a more inclusive and localised approach. As Nepal’s media landscape evolves, it faces dual challenges: maintaining credibility and trust, while adapting to diverse and shifting consumption habits. Media stakeholders need to think about the steps they now need to take for their own survival, to ensure pluralism and healthy public debate, and ensure that the voices of the marginalised are included in the national conversation. Policymakers, media owners and journalists must strive to balance innovation with accessibility, fostering a trusted space that informs, empowers, and connects all Nepalis. This media transition is shaped by regional disparities, generational differences, and the growing dominance of digital platforms. Consumers of news An overwhelming majority (81.7%) of respondents report engaging with news in some form, underscoring a widespread appetite for staying informed. However, 18.3% do not use media for news at all either because of lack of access, or distrust. Regionally, news consumption is strongest in Bagmati (91.6%) and Sudurpaschim (90.5%), while Madhes (60.6%) lags significantly behind. This finding reflects potential challenges in access or outreach in the region. In rural areas, 79.5% of respondents consume news compared to 87.6% in cities. Urbanisation continues to drive higher engagement with media. Among social media platforms, Facebook (62.0%) and YouTube (44.4%) dominate, particularly among younger and urban audiences. In the 16-24 age group, 82.6% of respondents rely on Facebook as their primary news source, while 51.5% turn to YouTube. In contrast, their use of radio (23.6%) and tv (21.3%) is considerably lower. Among those 60 and above, 38.4% rely on radio and tv equally for news. Although Facebook is not a media platform in itself, the tendency to perceive posts on Facebook as ‘news’, or view content shared by traditional media on the site as originating from Facebook likely contributes to this perception. There is a blurring of boundaries between mainstream media and social media platforms, and the content they host. Print media is struggling to maintain relevance, with only 5.3% of respondents citing newspapers and magazines as their go-to news source. This sharp decline in print engagement suggests a broader shift toward instant, accessible digital content, leaving traditional formats struggling to adapt. Interestingly, media aggregate sites like Hamro Patro (6.2%) and emerging spaces like TikTok (1.4%) show how niche tools and apps carve out their own spaces in the news ecosystem. Higher education is a strong predictor of news consumption with 99.1% of respondents using news content in one form or other. Only 52.1% of illiterate respondents engage with news, raising issues of literacy, access, and media inclusion. Responsive media  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226141212_2201d79424e162f11ab79f3de8675cd7da8018f71cc99ebd49bd9961d362d3cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241226141212_2201d79424e162f11ab79f3de8675cd7da8018f71cc99ebd49bd9961d362d3cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="898" height="810" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Media Survey 2024"></figure>  The question of how much Nepali media cares about the public issues reveals disparities across regions, demographics, and platforms. While 38.5% of respondents believe the media cares about their needs, a significant 31.2% feels otherwise, with 20% are uncertain. Confidence in media is strongest in Bagmati and Karnali, while Sudurpaschim and Madhes highlight gaps in engagement and relatable coverage. This divide reflects earlier findings about Nepal’s media landscape, where digital platforms dominate urban and younger demographics, while traditional platforms hold sway in rural and older populations. Nepal’s journalism needs to bridge this gap in representation and trust by creating inclusive, localised content that resonates with diverse audiences. The age, urban-rural and education divide is also reflected in how media responsiveness is perceived. The survey result shows that while journalism is often seen as addressing more significant national issues, it struggles to connect with individual or localised concerns with a persistent trust gap and regional disparities. This likely stems from the media’s tendency to prioritise macro-level narratives, such as politics and societal challenges which resonate on a broader scale, while often overlooking the lived experiences of individuals or underrepresented communities. Over half of respondents (51.3%) feel that journalism cares ‘A Great Deal’, ‘Quite a Bit’, about public concerns, while 34.2% feel the media pays only ‘Slight’ or ‘No’ attention to their needs. Age and education continue to influence perceptions of media responsiveness. Younger respondents aged 16–34 are more optimistic, with over 35% stating journalism cares ‘Quite a lot’ about public concerns. However, confidence diminishes among older age groups, where 39.8% of those aged 60 and above express uncertainty. Urban respondents (35.2%) consistently report higher trust in media responsiveness compared to 33.8% in rural areas. This data aligns with earlier findings, where urban audiences, engaging more with digital platforms, feel better represented. The contrast between personal and public perceptions suggests that while Nepali journalism is recognised for addressing large-scale, national issues, it struggles to connect with localised or individual concerns. Digital platforms, which dominate urban and younger audiences, likely contribute to the more positive perceptions of media care for public concerns. In comparison, mainstream media, which is used more by older and rural audiences, may not foster the same level of trust or engagement. Nepal’s traditional press must balance coverage of national issues with more relevant local content to build lasting trust. Bridging this gap requires headline-worthy grassroots storytelling that resonates with individuals and communities while building a national narrative, fostering trust and representation in society. Madhu Acharya is the CEO/President, and Bhumiraj Chapagain, PhD, is the Research Director at Sharecast Data Initiative.

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What do Nepalis think of the media?

The scenes from Dhaka on Monday were eerily similar to the ransacking of the residences of Ferdinand Marcos or Gotabaya Rajapaksa. Protesters took selfies lying on Sheikh Hasina’s bed (pictured above), they lounged on her sofas, feasted on biryani, and looted whatever was portable.&nbsp;
As is usually the case, it only takes a spark to light a revolt when a people’s fury at ruthless rulers reaches the tipping point. Hasina’s regime cracked down brutally on demonstrators, killing more than 300.&nbsp;
After another day of bloodshed on 4 August, Hasina lost support of the security forces, and jubilant protesters watched as their <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2024/08/05/asia/bangladesh-prime-minister-residence-stormed-intl/index.html">prime minister of 15 years fly off to India</a>. Army Chief Waker-Uz-Zaman announced an interim government would be formed.
There is a vital lesson from what has happened in Bangladesh for the rest of South Asia and beyond. Rulers cannot rest on their laurels just because they were freedom fighters. If citizens do not benefit from regime change, they will sweep rulers into the dustbin of history.
History is replete with examples of despots who plunder, torture and kill opponents, but are overthrown sooner or later. <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/article/2024/aug/05/why-bangladesh-prime-minister-sheikh-hasina-resigned">Sheikh Hasina</a>, was elected for the fifth time in a rigged election in January that was boycotted by the opposition BNP, and accepted only by India.
Hasina's fate is also a lesson for regional powers who back tyrants for geopolitical reasons: what they gain from such support can be tenuous and short-lived.
Nepal is presently not ruled by an elected despot, our press is the freest in the region, and the check and balance of democracy here function relatively well. Yet, the events in Bangladesh have an important lesson for our elderly rulers and mass media.&nbsp;
Are we in the media also partly to blame for increasing public frustration with politics as usual that is making Nepalis cynical and apathetic?
Nepal’s new politicians have exploited the fecklessness of old rulers by using the new media to gather populist support. Journalists are seen to be comrades-in-arms of the legacy leaders, and are collectively held responsible for Nepal’s decline.&nbsp;
In the age of citizen journalism, there is a misconception that the mass media has become redundant. However, in-depth journalism is more essential than ever to help citizens navigate information overload, disinformation and deep fakes.&nbsp;
The mobile phone and its algorithm-driven networking platforms are more for entertainment than information. And if information is a major part of content, then more often than not it is fake news and toxic trolling. Readership has not decreased, it has just migrated, and the sources of information have changed.
The main reason Nepal's politicians and journalists find themselves targetted is because they played active roles together in the people power movements of 1990 and 2006.
Indeed, journalists have been at the forefront of the restoration and protection of democracy and in upholding press freedom — through the conflict years, and after king Gyanendra’s coup in 2005.&nbsp;
But <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/stemming-asia-s-democratic-decay">when democracy fails to deliver</a>, the public and populists tend to blame not just elected politicians, but also journalists.&nbsp;
The irony is that Nepal’s leadership is reluctant to credit the mass media for helping defend democracy and making it possible for them to get to power. Instead, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/press-for-people">many politicians would like to muzzle the media</a> because of its role in holding their power to account and exposing corruption in high places.&nbsp;
The media is playing its mandated adversarial role in Nepal’s democracy, but click-bait media and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/democracy-s-discontents">populist politicians</a> see public-interest journalism as competition for public attention.
We in the legacy media therefore find ourselves being distrusted by old guard politicians, and as rivals by YouTubers and TikTokers.
The state itself refuses thus far to recognise the communication enterprise as an industry, and successive governments <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/gagging-the-press-in-installments">have tried to weaken the traditional mass media by laws and policies</a>. The ban on alcohol ads on grounds of public health, even though such goods can be openly bought and consumed, is part of that strategy.&nbsp;
New leaders like Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah were propelled to power by new media. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-home-minister-vs-the-media">RSP’s Rabi Lamichhane</a> also fanned cyber-populism to get elected, which is why he is so dismissive of the ‘Dirty Dozen’ (१२-भाइ एडिटर) of the legacy media that exposed his wrongdoings.
The lesson from the Bangladesh upheaval for Nepal’s rulers who have been at the helm now for decades is this: clean up your act and start delivering, or else face a similar fate.
<a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/clywww69p2vo">Sheikh Hasina</a> persecuted the press, allowing social pressure to build up until it all exploded in her face. A free press is democracy’s safety valve, and it is in the self-interest of Nepal’s political parties to defend it.
Gunaraj Luitel is the Chief Editor of Nagarik Daily in Kathmandu.
@gunaraj

Selfies on the prime minister’s bed

Sha Bahadur Gurung was 30 years old when he was arrested for participating in a peaceful protest. He died aged 65 last week in Bhutan’s Chamgang Central Prison. He was among 31 prisoners of conscience in Bhutan, many of whom are serving long sentences for opposing the regime’s forcible expulsion of 100,000 of its Lhotsampa people in the early 1990s. ‘Mr Gurung died on 15 December in his prison cell under circumstances that raise serious concerns about custodial negligence and long-term abuse,” said a statement by the Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) based in The Hague which demanded an external probe, justice and release of remaining political prisoners. Gurung was from Chirang and was arrested in 1990 while serving in the Royal Bhutan Army, and accused of having sympathies for the Lhotsampa people. He was mostly held at the notorious Rabuna Prison in Wangdi Phodrang District.&nbsp; Gurung’s relatives in the United States said he had endured prolonged physical and psychological abuse during his imprisonment, and repeatedly subjected to torture and inhumane treatment. They believe the decades of ill-treatment had damaged his health, ultimately leading to his death. Earlier this month, Gurung was transferred from Rabuna to Chamgang Central Prison. On 14 December. He had gone to bed after dinner without any visible sign of distress. He was found unconscious in his cell the next morning.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224151248_5fc8305ecd320d89b9e343c04a1a897dc1353353da55b6d277f5398034b265ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251224151248_5fc8305ecd320d89b9e343c04a1a897dc1353353da55b6d277f5398034b265ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="1103" loading="lazy" alt="Sha Bahadur Gurung NT"> <figcaption>Sha Bahadur Gurung, who died at age 65 in prison in Bhutan after serving 30 years for expressing political opinion.</figcaption> </figure>  He was referred to a hospital in Thimphu, suggesting that he was still alive during transfer to a local health post. But it appears that he had already died before being taken from prison. Gurung’s death occurred two days before Bhutan’s National Day on 17 December, when families, supporters, and human rights advocates worldwide had hoped for the release of political prisoners through a royal amnesty. Instead, the death of one of the longest-serving political prisoners has caused grief and anger in the Bhutanese diaspora.&nbsp; “We strongly condemn the treatment and death of Gurung, a peaceful and justice-loving Bhutanese citizen,” the V statement said. ‘This tragedy raises serious questions about the treatment of political prisoners in Bhutan and stands in stark contrast to the country’s international image under the principles of Gross National Happiness, compassion, and mindfulness.’ Earlier this year, The <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/en/special-procedures/wg-arbitrary-detention/opinions-adopted-working-group-arbitrary-detention/opinions-adopted-working-group-arbitrary-detention-its-101st-session" target="_blank">United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the Bhutan government was detaining citizens without parole for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/detainees-in-dire-straits-in-bhutan-s-prisons" target="_blank">expressing political opinion</a>. The New York-based Human Rights Watch (HRW) said in 2023 that there were least 37 <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/03/13/bhutan-free-long-term-political-prisoners" target="_blank">political prisoners</a> in Bhutan’s jails. Of them, 32 belong to the Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa community, which has faced <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2003/06/18/nepal-bhutanese-refugees-rendered-stateless" target="_blank">decades of discrimination and abuse</a> and eviction. Most of them were convicted because of prohibited political activity between 1990 and 2008. One political prisoner, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-country-for-dissent?fbclid=IwAR07lpitMBWAYSkny_3d_smQBlmoxAOQm1OxdNtl-27h8mV0RNO9IxVY2qs" target="_blank">Madhukar Monger</a>, who was released in 2023 after serving 29 years described brutal conditions in <a href="https://www.hrw.org/asia/bhutan" target="_blank">Bhutan</a>'s jails. Political prisoners were not given enough food, and medical care, he said, urging the internaitoonal community to press for the release of prisoners of conscience.&nbsp; In March, <a href="https://www.hrw.org/about/people/meenakshi-ganguly" target="_blank">Meenakshi Ganguly</a>, Deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch, urged Bhutan’s international partners to call on the Bhutan government to release all remaining political prisoners immediately.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224161216_9d11a78ed5490091c595341900e4c26f5c0dd0328718f6930ef19c1e9b7f95a6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251224161216_9d11a78ed5490091c595341900e4c26f5c0dd0328718f6930ef19c1e9b7f95a6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1422" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan political prisoners NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224161216_176855f3d3df42d24ac7e77372bbf49115695b732a6c094a66267e969111dfca.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251224161216_176855f3d3df42d24ac7e77372bbf49115695b732a6c094a66267e969111dfca" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1420" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan political prisoners NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Bhutan political prisoner dies in detention

Nepal’s Gurkha soldiers have a well-deserved reputation worldwide for uncommon valour and loyalty. However, what happened in Hawaii in 1986 and the long struggle for fair pay and pension shows that the formidable fighters from Nepal also do not tolerate injustice. The Hong Kong-based 1st Battalion of the 7th Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Gurkha Rifles was in Hawaii for jungle warfare training exercises at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center when they beat up their commanding officer, Major Corin Pearce. &nbsp;&nbsp; The Gurkhas said Pearce had insulted them, and 111 soldiers were dismissed. Pearce suffered broken ribs and a head injury, and was himself also discharged. The incident got worldwide publicity and enforced the belief that the Nepalis were not treated fairly in the British Army. It also led some retired soldiers to begin a decades-long struggle for compensation at par with their British peers.&nbsp; Retired British Gurkha soldier Shankar Rai in his book Triumph and Tears revisits the Hawaii incident which he witnessed, and also his experience in the Falkland Islands/Malvinas war in 1982.&nbsp; He has lots of grievances: unequal treatment and injustice from the British Army towards himself and his comrades. This is an indignant and disillusioned account of the good, the bad and the ugly of being a British Gurkha, which he says let him down despite his service and belief in it.&nbsp; The book could also be a cautionary tale of how one person on a power-trip can tarnish two centuries of the shared history of Nepal and the UK, as well as ruin the lives of those involved. It also is proof that loyalty should never be taken for granted. Four years after defeating the Argentinians in the Falklands, several companies and platoons of Gurkha rifles were stationed in Hawaii in 1986 for joint US-UK ‘Exercise Union Pacific’ military exercises. The goal was to ‘perfect the art of marine warfare in collaboration with the US Marine Force’. The rules were that a British Gurkha company commander needed to have the rank of major and pass a Nepali language test. Captain Pearce was the son-in-law of a British Brigadier on extra-regiment employment, and this rule was waived. He was appointed Acting Major. Pearce didn’t bother to learn Nepali language or culture, and from Rai’s account took every chance to belittle and embarrass the Gurkhas as poor, stupid, rude, backward, and lucky to be there. He writes: ‘After Captain Pearce reached Hawaii, he began to project himself as a master and the Gurkhas as servants, to show off to the Americans.’ The author also recounts other slights, such as only receiving a fourth of the rations they were due during hard training, being forced to train even when some of the soldiers had high fever, and claims to have ‘civilised’ the Nepalis.&nbsp; Pearce had been to eastern Nepal before the training and seen the grinding poverty. He kept telling the Gurkhas how lucky they were to be in the job, and that they were making ‘more money than Nepal’s prime minister’. During the final farewell party in Hawaii, Pearce set up tables to form a saluting platform, and asked the Gurkha pipe and drum band to march around him while playing. The enraged soldiers could not take it anymore, and after the party an inebriated group ran Captains Pearce and Chandra Kumar Pradhan out of their tents and beat them up. Both officers broke ribs, and the major needed 15 stitches on his head. ‘This sorry and unseemly episode is considered to have been entirely at odds with the Brigade of Gurkhas’ tradition of loyalty and gallant service in the British Army. It is regarded as an isolated and untypical event, which will not be permitted to detract from the high esteem in which the Brigade is held,’ reads the report of an investigation. Most of the 1/7 company soldiers were dismissed whether they had been involved in the assault or not. The author describes the shame that followed, with dismissed soldiers returning to Nepal with lost face.&nbsp; ‘I burned with humiliation, and life scared me,’ writes the author, whose father told him that he was ashamed to call him his son. ‘Many of my friends’ girlfriends left them and married other people. Rifleman Khem Gurung (21162015) of Itahari committed suicide,’ writes Rai, adding that those dismissed were blacklisted, and could not get other jobs.&nbsp; They tried to pursue legal action against the British Government, but backed down when they could not afford expensive hotshot lawyers, and would not have the money to cover the British government’s legal fees in the likely case of a loss in court. Gurkhas who had served for four years in the UK were allowed to move there, an option that many of those dismissed in the Hawaii incident took, including the author, who now lives in Oxford. Rai pours out his hurt and emotion in the book. Towards the end, he writes: ‘I depend on small jobs for livelihood. In the remaining time, I actively raise the issue of the victims of the Hawaii incident. We are burdened with insults, hatred, and contempt for a lifetime. It was harsher than a court martial, too heavy to bear.’ The is a slim book, and is a quick, engaging read of an incident 30 years ago, and Rai writes with a soldier’s precision. Even though the anger shows even after all these years, there is no over-dramatisation in the narrative.&nbsp; The first part of the book is about sailing across the South Atlantic in the QEII, which had been converted into a troop ship to take the Gurkhas to war. The soldiers from landlocked Nepal were mostly sea-sick, but were happy to get two cans of beer a day. Barclays Bank even had a branch on board. Rai’s descriptions of the friendships he developed in the Company and on the battlefield are poignant. They braved Argentinian bombs, dug trenches and fought through the rain in the Southern Hemisphere winter. There are vignettes of sharing tea with fellow Nepalis, seeing comrades fall, and finding pictures of wives and children in the pockets of dead young Argentine soldiers. Behind the prestige, honour and myths of being a Gurkha soldier, it seems this is just another job with nepotism, horrible bosses and bad pay. But such is the desperation that up to 20,000 young Nepalis still apply for 300 openings in the British Army every year. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Triumph and tears book details NT"> </figure>

Not taking loyalty for granted

After a week of to-and-fro that culminated in all-night bargaining, two populist young figures in Nepali politics agreed at 4AM on Sunday to join forces ahead of elections in March. Rabi Lamichhane of the RSP, who came out of jail a week ago, has forged an alliance with Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah. Both are keen to ride on the GenZ wave that radically changed the direction of Nepal’s politics that has been dominated by three mainstream parties for the past three decades. Under the 7-point deal, Lamichhane will still head the RSP, while Shah has been promised prime ministership if the party wins a majority in the federal elections. Shah will also be the parliamentary party leader. The RSP will keep its name and election symbol. “Agreements must be made not on the basis of what leaders want, but on what the country needs,” Lamichhane wrote on social media announcing the alliance. The RSP chair is said to have put his own prime ministerial aspirations on hold to ensure the Kathmandu Mayor's support for the March polls. This is an alliance of convenience. Lamichhane requires the backing from Shah’s youth voters to face the legacy parties, while the mayor needs a political platform. Ultimately the prospect of leading not just Kathmandu but Nepal itself appears to have been the deciding factor for Balen Shah. The Kathmandu mayor is reportedly keen to contest the election from Jhapa against former prime minister K P Oli in his constituency.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228041212_1b26fd7f14e418a9bdb827a7b733914c08183c36b4a93694fc1aefda9f45d85a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251228041212_1b26fd7f14e418a9bdb827a7b733914c08183c36b4a93694fc1aefda9f45d85a" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Balen-Rabi alliance"> <figcaption>Photo: BALEN SHAH, RABI LAMICHHANE / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  The two have much in common. Lamichhane, a former tv anchor, returned from the United States and launched the RSP as an alternative party four months before elections in 2022. He served as Home Minister twice in Pushpa Kamal Dahal's coalition government before being jailed for defrauding cooperatives depositers. He made a jail break during the September protests, returned to prison voluntarily, and was released on bail last week. Balen Shah stood as an independent candidate for mayor of Kathmandu in local elections in 2022, and was catapulted to victory because of anti-incumbent protest votes among urban youth.&nbsp; Both campaigned on social media, pushing a populist anti-corruption agenda and against the governance failure of the three establishment parties — the same logic that drove the GenZ protests in September that escalated into violence and brought down the UML-NC coalition. Even as government buildings smouldered on 10 September, GenZ members were strongly urging Balen Shah to be the interim prime minister, but when he declined they voted on Discord for former chief justice Sushila Karki.&nbsp; With just over two months to go for elections on 5 March, Prime Minister Karki has been trying desperately to get the mainstream parties on board. She has met twice with the top leaders of the UML, NC and the NCP. All three parties have been dealing with internal power struggles, and the UML appears to be the most reluctant to face elections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228051212_d42944e014b278d6864270b74f924ac842d6f7a68d5bd6817148d120522ba60b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251228051212_d42944e014b278d6864270b74f924ac842d6f7a68d5bd6817148d120522ba60b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki with political leaders"> <figcaption>Prime Minister Sushila Karki has been meeting with leaders of the mainstream parties to get them on board for the election. Photo: PMO</figcaption> </figure>  The UML’s former prime minister K P Oli has refused summons by the Judicial Inquiry Commission charged with investigating the massacre of protesters on 8 September and the arson and vandalism the next day. Then home minister Ramesh Lekhak is scheduled to give his deposition to the Commission this week. The legacy parties appear to be taking the threat from the Rabi-Balen partnership strongly, and have been trying to forge an electoral alliance so they do not compete against each other.&nbsp; They are relying on traditional vote banks among the rural electorate, and calculate that alternative forces will cancel themselves out. They could also be hoping that Balen Shah’s erratic behaviour and Rabi Lamichhane’s prison conviction will put voters off. A total of 837,094 first-time voters have been registered in Nepal ahead of the elections.&nbsp; The Kathmandu mayor is an engineer and rap artist, and had till now been reclusive, preferring to post on social media rather than face the press. His late-night online posts have been impulsive: like the one urging that Singha Darbar be burnt down, or another one recently in which he used the f-word against the US, China, India and the mainstream parties. He later deleted both posts.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228041212_a2f87881e36fb40b82bf77e1b07003aaf36b91e2a9eb5da096f1e562654c31e3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251228041212_a2f87881e36fb40b82bf77e1b07003aaf36b91e2a9eb5da096f1e562654c31e3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1112" height="1440" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Rabi agreement NT"> <figcaption>The seven-point agreement between Shah and Lamichhane. </figcaption> </figure>  Lamichane and Shah had also been negotiating with Energy Minister Kulman Ghising’s newly-forced Ujyalo Nepal Party, but the bargaining did not go well because Ghising refused to fight elections under the RSP banner. If the three had been successful in coming together, it would have been a formidable alliance. There are misgivings about the RSP-Balen Shah deal, even among some GenZ who see the two prominent men dividing up the power structure as just the kind of political culture they wanted to reform. Many are already predicting exactly the kind of clash of egos between the two alpha males that characterised Nepali politics since the restoration of democracy in 1990. In the coming days, as with most political change in Nepal, there will be much speculation about the geopolitics behind the Rabi-Balen deal. Balen Shah’s angry post against India-US-China as well as his past nationalistic pronouncements on Nepal’s territorial dispute with India over Kalapani will be recalled, while Beijing has misgivings about the antecedents of some GenZ figures. Dharan-mayor Harka Sampang, who has also formed his own political party, has already pronounced the Rabi-Balen deal as being “foreign backed”.

Old vs New in Nepal in 2026

This is the 77th 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. I was in Grade 3 when my father left for Saudi Arabia. Letters he sent occasionally contained photos. We had to get used to matching the person in the photos with him when he came home. Over two decades later, I left behind my son a day after he was born to go to Korea.&nbsp; He was five when I returned, and he just could not believe I was the same person he spoke on video calls. To convince him that it was indeed me, I had to call him on video from the other room.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021240_3eead7a26ee34bab17e1b462d3e53ae8b4dc95151478e55b09f2855989364015.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251224021240_3eead7a26ee34bab17e1b462d3e53ae8b4dc95151478e55b09f2855989364015" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  Technology, it turns out, is no replacement to proximity and physical presence.&nbsp; When my father was in Saudi Arabia, my mother died. My father could not return to Nepal immediately, and my grandmother took in my two sisters and me.&nbsp; My studies took a hit. I started working in a shoe shop, and earned Rs2,100 a month. I wanted to start a shoe shop with support from my father when he returned. He did not, and neither did my other relatives. Perhaps they doubted my business sense. Or they had other priorities.&nbsp; Whatever it was, this feeling of not having someone to back me up hit me deeply but give me confidence. Without alternatives, I decided to prepare to migrate to Korea. I studied for the language exam and was among the first cohort under the G2G scheme. When I was finally matched with a Korean employer, I could not be happier.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_5f681863a9aa99f31f3241158e636b32aca9fdaa7c3f5c19dd67e3de2068a3b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251224021248_5f681863a9aa99f31f3241158e636b32aca9fdaa7c3f5c19dd67e3de2068a3b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="823" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  Not having received any support from those around me, the Korean offer made me feel like I had won in life. My grandmother was happy because it would increase family income. She had three additional mouths to feed, and we were quickly growing up. She worried about getting my sisters married. My first stint in Korea, however, was not what I expected. I had to change jobs multiple times, either because the company I worked for was unable to pay me, there was no work, or I had an accident. The odds just were not in my favour. The global financial crisis had taken a toll on the economy.&nbsp; Even so, I managed to help pay for my sisters' weddings and had modest savings. But there was not much to show for it compared to my peers. Never again, I thought, as I said goodbye to Korea.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021240_f303dd30f922776a30a1871b38e5420534e73b99b7b1444b4658c4eca535d043.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251224021240_f303dd30f922776a30a1871b38e5420534e73b99b7b1444b4658c4eca535d043" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="1279" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  I came home and got married. I started a mobile repair shop. But it did not work out well either, and I was soon headed back to Korea despite my misgivings. I left a day after my son was born, and this time I was determined to make it work in Korea. I was placed in a company that made golf balls. It paid well, but the job was just for money, I needed to do something more with my future that would help me stand on my own feet once I was back in Nepal. I was intrigued by the three-in-one instant coffee sachets in Korea that had coffee, milk and sugar. Back home in our village in Kaski, our cooperative grew coffee that either went to waste or fetched very low prices. My sisters and I used to pick the sweet and tasty coffee cherries.&nbsp; I saw a great business prospect in turning the beans into coffee sachets, and started exploring this. That was my mission: to make instant coffee packets widely available in Nepal. It was just a matter of understanding the process so I went to a migrant resource centre in Korea to inquire about where I could learn this.&nbsp; I was advised to take barista classes, and I found out that sachet coffee is actually not healthy and I should instead learn about fresh brewed coffee. That seemed even more exciting. How coffee beans could be ground and sold for over Rs450 in Korean cafes that people waited in line for bemused me. During my free time, I spent all my energy learning about coffee. I took training in barista, coffee sensory, machine repair and roasting. I had to rely on the generosity of Koreans who were willing to take a chance on me as I had different constraints such as lack of network, a busy work schedule at my regular job but even then, people offered to help.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021244_86bbfcdcbe8925c46efac526225aea226b7987290f8107e991d8e764cbb01155.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251224021244_86bbfcdcbe8925c46efac526225aea226b7987290f8107e991d8e764cbb01155" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee NT"> </figure>  I was so obsessed that whenever I spent time on leisure activities during days off, I felt guilty. My golf ball job was just for income, I had to invest in my real post-Korea life. Balancing work and learning everything about coffee was not easy. Not only did I pay for some of the lessons, I even skipped overtime hours for them. But this was for my future. I must have consulted over a dozen coffee experts in Korea to share their experience and connect me to people. I could not afford to be shy about asking strangers for help. When the pandemic hit, we were granted a one-year visa extension, and I took it as an opportunity to invest in myself. I had seen great business prospects for coffee machine repair service in Pokhara because people had to rely on Kathmandu. But to learn machine repair and maintenance, I had to spend more time and weekend classes were not going to be sufficient.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_18996ee0b6292070add202cf948f5b0b5a09e5b11022b9d961a68a5a886fc5f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251224021248_18996ee0b6292070add202cf948f5b0b5a09e5b11022b9d961a68a5a886fc5f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1138" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  I moved to a training company and worked just enough to maintain my legal status. I did not take overtime shifts. Even my roommates barely saw me because I used to come home long after our duty hours from my coffee training. I also needed actual job experience so I asked my trainer to let me shadow him at work.&nbsp; The on-the-job exposure to repair and maintenance work gave me more confidence and expertise. When I returned to Nepal, I came home with a suitcase full of coffee machine parts. I have started a coffee shop called Jumli, provide machine repair services and have also started growing my own coffee. The idea is to be a one stop shop for all players in the coffee industry, whether it is farmers or coffee shop owners who need Nepal-grown coffee or machine repair services or coffee lovers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_0fd28dab75d1eddbc16ab0aeda2ce7fcd4aceb07e7a381d4ce872b5184bea086.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251224021248_0fd28dab75d1eddbc16ab0aeda2ce7fcd4aceb07e7a381d4ce872b5184bea086" data-rendition-name="original" width="1321" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  It is not always easy being an entrepreneur in Nepal. Sometimes, when I am on shaky ground, I close my eyes and talk to my mother in my head for clarity. Some of these conversations are replays of the things she told me when I was growing up. I didn’t take them seriously then, but now they offer important nuggets of wisdom about life, society, and how to navigate difficult times. I have a lot of hope for the future. I am now laying the groundwork to one day export Nepal’s specialty coffee to the international market, meeting global standards of quality. Programs like the Returnee Innovators for Nepal (RIN) help in equipping you with the skills to better pitch your business and give exposure and networks. Even now, I rely on my trainer in Korea for guidance or to access spare parts that are not available in Nepal. I have come a long way from the day I cluelessly chose ‘American-O’ coffee because it was the easiest drink to pronounce in the menu. I never thought I would be making a living from coffee back home in Nepal one day.&nbsp;

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