Shakti (शक्ति) in Hinduism is the all-powerful feminine goddess without whom the masculine form is just a shadow. The mother goddess is also प्रकृति (nature), signifying the intimate link of all life forms with the female creator being. &nbsp;
This week, women across Nepal have been celebrating the runup to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/women-celebrate-tij">nationwide carnival of Tij,</a> and the main day this year falls on 6 September.&nbsp;
Tij has traditionally been a symbol of entrenched patriarchy in Nepali society and a festival to put women in their place. They are required to fast all day to ensure longevity of their husbands, reinforcing the idea that a woman’s worth is tied to a man.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/parodying-patriarchy-at-tij">Parodying patriarchy at Tij</a>, Sewa Bhattarai
However, Nepali womanhood has coopted Tij and turned it into a festival of emancipation, independence and even defiance. Leading up to the festival, artists and singers have released music videos on social media platforms with scathing satire, commentary, and protest. Tij has become the stage on which to highlight continued discrimination, abuse, even rapes and murders of women which have gone largely unpunished.&nbsp;
The way Nepalis celebrate our myriad post-monsoon festivals has changed with increased disposable income, and in the process become more commercialised and consumerist. But just to show who is in charge, the Kathmandu District Administration on Tuesday issued a notice saying any ‘unnecessarily extravagant celebration’ of Tij would result in legal action.Why does Kathmandu’s moral police feel it is necessary to control merry-making on the one day that Nepali women have reclaimed for themselves? Don’t they have bigger fish to fry? Like arresting convicted rapists? &nbsp;
The 2015 Constitution has ensured better representation of hitherto excluded groups like women across all sectors. In theory. &nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16252">Re-inventing Tij</a>, Mallika Aryal
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/songs-of-rebellion,3249">Songs of rebellion</a>, Smriti Basnet
Even though the amendment to Nepal’s Civil Service Act has reserved 33% of civil service seats for women, they make up just 7.41% of the total jobs. Women from underserved communities suffer double discrimination.&nbsp;
Women and minorities in politics tend to be token nominations just to fulfil quota requirements. Women were elected to every local council as either a mayor or deputy mayor in 2017, but electoral alliances between political parties in the 2022 elections at all three levels of government gave politicians loopholes to bypass this requirement.
Indeed, while the number of female mayors and chairpersons rose slightly from 18 in 2017 to 25 in 2022, the number of deputy chiefs in 761 local governments fell steeply from 718 women to 564 at the same time.&nbsp;
Similarly, the 2015 Constitution mandated that 33% of MPs had to be women. Most female parliamentarians were never given a ticket for direct elections by their parties, they had to get into Parliament via the Proportional Representation (PR) system and are therefore not taken seriously by their male peers.&nbsp;
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/more-things-change-more-they-remain-the-same">current coalition government of the NC and UML</a> came to power two months ago on the purported agenda of scrapping the PR system with a constitutional amendment, arguing it has brought political instability.&nbsp;
Forget for a moment that it is serial septuagenarian prime ministers of the three main parties who are more responsible for decades of instability, but women and other excluded communities are in real danger of losing guarantees of political representation.&nbsp;
The 2021 census shows the female population over the age of 10 who are economically active has increased from 29.2% to 60.4%. Women manage nearly 30% of all small and medium businesses.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-enterprising-women-in-politics">Nepal’s enterprising women in politics</a>, Samjhana BK
Female land and property ownership has increased since women were guaranteed inheritance rights. But while businesses registered by women are on the rise, this is largely so that male family members can use up subsidies for female-owned enterprises.&nbsp;
However progressive the laws, that is only the first step. True equality cannot be achieved until women are socio-culturally empowered to make their own decisions: whether or not to get married, when and to whom, to join the workforce after marriage or be a homemaker, have children (and how many) or not have them, get divorced, or remarry.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/50-outstanding-women-of-nepal">50 outstanding women of Nepal</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar
There is no right or wrong in all this, it is a woman’s choice. Family, society and community have no right to critique their decision. Patriarchy has contributed to gender inequality, but internalised misogyny lurks deep within society.
This is reflected in how Nepali families (including some matriarchs) continue to treat their daughters-in-law as slaves. Socialisation is so entrenched that in many cases, it is female family members who banish daughters to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-speaking-out-against-chaupadi,3518">chhau huts</a> during their periods because of fears of divine retribution.
Recently, it was women who defended a self-proclaimed ‘godwoman’ who sermonised that women must endure abuse and exploitation at the hands of the husband and his family because divorce is “unnatural”. &nbsp;
Nepali society has a lot to learn and unlearn so that the next generation can finally break free of the shackles of discrimination, exploitation, abuse, and inequality.
Shristi Karki

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Quality of equality for women

I unwrap The Public Life of Women, A Feminist Memory Project, and then slide the book out of its maroon case. An olive photo book with black pages reveals itself to me. My palms and fingers close around it in an embrace, the texture of a book always tells you something. I flip through the pages and want to turn to the only other person on the terrace-pub, a stylishly-dressed young woman, to say: What a gorgeous, wholesome book! Flipping through the pages, I am swept by gratitude for the women who came before us, for making sitting alone in public places in Nepal possible for women. When my friend shows up, I nudge the book in her direction. She says: “The white letters against black pages are symbolic, like light in the dark, showing us the way forward.” Valentina Abenavoli’s aesthetics will not just pass you by — the design carries the depth of the content, even if the book might need a stronger binding. This collection by Nepal Picture Library is based on an archival campaign representing women from all &nbsp;backgrounds from all over Nepal. The acknowledgement, as acknowledgement should be, is generous and not at all rushed. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/feminist-prints">Feminist prints</a>, Monika Deupala &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;…  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_1c791ae4eba749940e0373ea3a992ca6e1b436d440bbee7b74cee87850e6adc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230903030940_1c791ae4eba749940e0373ea3a992ca6e1b436d440bbee7b74cee87850e6adc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="710" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  Mamu receives the book, flips through it and says: “This is the book for every Nepali woman. Many thanks to whoever made this.” She sits down at the dining table and starts turning the pages right away. She pauses at the photo of urban Nepali women in Moscow in 1963. Yes, they did represent a certain class of Nepali society. Still, it makes me wonder if my mother, growing up, gained hope from women like them. And even though she has spent her own life in and around the kitchen, perhaps knowing that there were women out there, who were trying, gave her hope for her unborn daughters? The thought makes me weep. I wish Mamu had a moment like Prativa Subedi, standing coy of the ocean in a 1994 image, a reminder of The Awakening by Kate Chopin. “We will save the book for my unborn daughters,” I say. Mamu nods. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/coping-with-patriarchy">Coping with patriarchy</a>, Bhumi Ghimire &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;…  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_f05d136605b0771f07a63f7bb398868c54f9d6a96f0d3cce0abeec6382785184.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230903030940_f05d136605b0771f07a63f7bb398868c54f9d6a96f0d3cce0abeec6382785184" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="710" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  Throughout history invisible lines have been drawn around women. This book is about those who have taken us beyond those lines. The first images in the book are of women at public events. Strangers stare back from the images. They feel familiar, because which woman is not &nbsp;familiar to another? They were women who cooked and cleaned alongside their public or political lives. Some operated as flag bearers for the men they loved. Long after I have put the book down, the image lingers of Rashmi Shah pillion riding on a motorbike with her husband, and her poem where red becomes the colour of revolution, the colour that binds them. The book is a collage of arrested moments in some stranger’s camera or perhaps that of acquaintances, mostly male. It is a representation of the gaze, all of them very different from one another, just as the women we see in the images, who tried to change the idea of belonging in class or caste. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/memory-of-a-conversation">Memory of a conversation</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_69399aa9662bb1ad09cd1241de5b341f288a1aa33c2a31c09f667bb700dcaab9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230903030940_69399aa9662bb1ad09cd1241de5b341f288a1aa33c2a31c09f667bb700dcaab9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1440" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  Sushila Shrestha’s ‘party marriage’ to Ashok Rai, which breaks the social convention is one such example, where marriage is also a political project. There is also mention of an ‘arrest warrant’ but no details divulged, making Shrestha’s story one of the many incomplete anecdotes in the book.&nbsp; Shanta Manavi is also ‘compelled’ to work as an underground operative after she met Modnath Prasrit in Banaras. And the un-captioned mugshots collected by Parijat and Punaya Prabha Devi Dhungana. So, they become an enigma. In the mystery of the intersection of the private and the political, are the very public images of Nani Maiya Dahal at the election victory rally in 1981. The photos are probably the first such we see of a woman leader woven into the fabric of her supporters. They depict what Nepal might have had to offer to its women politicians.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/are-women-not-nepali-enough">Are women not Nepali enough?</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_213ab8ef0355e04cd5ea95b42d87182e5debeb8602a2613527a74b733626e8a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230903030940_213ab8ef0355e04cd5ea95b42d87182e5debeb8602a2613527a74b733626e8a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="711" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  And yet, their political careers have always been short-lived, mostly oligarchic in nature, many of them operating from backstage, emerging time and again and then, exeunt. Women are beautiful. And the most beautiful are those who have fought like images of the Tharu women from Karjahi of Dang who led the peasants’ revolt in 1980 against local landlords. We shine brightest when it is dark. The photos of women in education are the most important for obvious reasons -- they trace the trajectory to women’s becoming. There is the fierceness of conviction in Chandra Malla establishing a school for girls in Makhan, circa 1935. Two high school teachers in Tehrathum in 1970: something remarkable about the light in their eyes. Female students prepare for Kathmandu education in an image from Doti in 1966. Little girls stand around them, watching, a moment so familiar to me. Seeing my Nini go to TU as a child was how I first decided that someday, I too would go to university.&nbsp; Images of ladies’ handbags and shoes and no-shoes are representations of status and economic independence.The book is more than just images, it is a repository of scraps and letters, articles, interviews, records, copies, journals, and notes and legal documents tucked in neatly, each revealing something about lives known and unknown. The images are flanked by texts in both English and Nepali, the Nepali version reads better and provides better context. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17426">Singing of sorrow</a>, Indu Nepal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030936_fb05a4c2314c5f2545bf1b5b0507006f35c8fe3c52e06c4435746d44190ba41a.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230903030936_fb05a4c2314c5f2545bf1b5b0507006f35c8fe3c52e06c4435746d44190ba41a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  The book follows no chronology, but segments act like the stream of consciousness, flowing from one thing that stands out to another. Some recent photos appear in black and white, as if to give them a dated feel. Probably aesthetics. So many lives: their aspirations, suffering, dreams, period cramps, menopausal mood swings. Who knows what they were experiencing at the time they were facing the camera. It is as much for the audience to feel as for the subjects of the images. Like Nayantara Gurung Kakshapati says in the curator’s conversation section, where one is in their lives when they engage with the images impacts how one interacts with images. And she raises an important question: What about those who were not photographed? More archiving, then? Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-nepal-s-history-colourful">Making Nepal’s history colourful</a>

Pratibha Tuladhar

Pictures of women taking pictures

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b839c7e80680e0c95c9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="683"/><figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption></figure>The thing about Dasain is that I’m never good enough for it.When I was a child, I wasn’t good enough because I was a girl. It meant I could not participate in certain rituals by the virtue of being female.Over the years, I learned to make peace with it. Rituals were not my thing, anyway.One Dasain, after the main practice of sacrificing the gourd, painted as the demon Mahishasur was over, my sister picked the khadga dagger handed down from our Malla ancestors, and started to slice the gourd. It riled the male guardians in the clan. My sister tried to argue that it is after all the goddess who kills the demon, and the goddess is female. Not like her argument would work.After that, the age-old practice of impaling the gourd in our clan met a sudden end — causing our strand of the Tuladhar men to disperse into nuclear family Dasain celebrations.While my childhood memory of Dasain, or Mohni as the Newa people call it, has always been about the Tika big day (this year on Wednesday) when the men came together to perform the violent act against a painted gourd, the festival has changed over the years. Some of those changes are very welcome, including the one that put an end to the simulation of violence performed by certain Buddhist Newa families in Kathmandu.Growing up, I also experienced discrimination shared by some of my cousins, who were not allowed the tika by certain relatives because they were not Buddhist. But wasn’t Dasain a Hindu event in itself? I never understood that. And while I stood on the other side of the line where I was allowed tika, their sense of humiliation for being refused the blessing was mine, too. We were children together.Over the years, I also learned to stage fake periods when I did not want to receive tika. And while isolation during period is something my family has never observed, I still have mood swings the moment I see the tika tray.Lately, they remind me of the Asur people in certain parts of India, who mourn their dead during Dasain. But the tika is also sticky and leaves a mark on my forehead, reminding me that I have the privilege of it because I was born in a certain family.Also, for women, neither having or not having your period during Dasain is a privilege. Either way, it means you spend the festival running household chores or being banished for bleeding. All things become tied to birth eventually—who you were born to, where and how—your gender, your sexual orientation, your religion, your civil status and your social station in life, to mention a few. They make that everything about you. In this case, they is Dasain and Dasain is they.Once upon a time, I worked in a newsroom. The country was declared secular and we stopped calling Dasain the biggest festival celebrated by Nepalis. We started writing: the biggest festival celebrated by Hindus in Nepal. But every other day, one person would change it back. All Nepalis are Hindu by default, he would say. How? I would ask. And he would say: it is just how it is. In my head, I would say: It is just how a newsroom you lead is. Closed to everyone who is not you.Over the years, Dasain has kept finding new ways to defeat me. When it discovered that I am a woman without a man, it naturally relegated me to the lower-station of social life. You need a husband to do certain things in the society that calls me its own. Doesn’t matter that this time of the year is about a woman who rides on a ferocious animal and is independent.I have met Dasain with an entirely new fear recently, because it’s given me fresh reasons for disdain. It tells me I’m not good enough. My hair is greying, and fast. Dasain wants me to discover hair colour. I’m told my cousins who are in their 50s “upstage” me in looks and it is why I will never “find a husband”. I’m also being told I’m too conservative in how I dress and in the topics I like to discuss. And so, I’m too conservative for this festival.It is never going to be good enough for Dasain that I’ve learned to play kitty to entertain my nonagenarian grandfather. Not good enough, that I let the spindle reel against my thumb, flying a kite with my nephews and my brothers.Dasain is often a reminder that singlehood is not even a concept available to one and that we must make the choice of finding a partner. It doesn’t matter that the partner might have been someone who slammed the door on your face or held you to the ground by your hair, or spent his entire time watching pornography on his phone while you sat up in bed wondering. But you must have a partner because that’s what is acceptable to Dasain.I’m never going to be good for Dasain. And that, is just fine.Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Reasons for disdain at Dasain

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111124/637217609c7e80680e0ba9e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1772" height="1183"/><figcaption>Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>If you leaf through any fairy tale, it seems the sole purpose of the female protagonist is to find a suitor, and the story ends with the couple then living happily ever after. Except, life is not a fairy tale.Even in 2022, many girls grow up thinking that their primary purpose in life is to find a husband. Education, skills, and talent are encouraged, but the sense of existence always ends with marriage.Modern society speaks highly of gender equality, and even as women continue to fight for equal rights in all aspects of life, including equal pay, much of it is limited to words with no follow-up actions.Growing up in a Newa family, I did not look forward to gatherings where I was constantly asked, ‘Kaile bhoj khuwaune?’ When was I getting married?There would barely be any mention of my professional achievements, that topic is solely reserved for a boy. Because as a girl, my marriage is more important than my career or goals in life to Nepali society.From a young age, girls are programmed to think that if they are not able to find themselves a husband by marriageable age, they are failures. This is not a diss on women who have chosen marriage and are happy, but we are focusing on those who are mentally traumatised by the underlying pressure to get married or have to continuously justify the reasons they are not married yet.Our sad reality is that early on girls learn it is more important to be pretty than competent. Sure, everybody wants to look beautiful and beauty is valued everywhere. But how far will you go to attain it?Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/childless-by-choice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Childless by choice</a>, Anjana RajbhandaryAccording to a <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26979336" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">study</a> published in Journal of International Marketing, ‘the pursuit of beauty’ is very high in Asia, evidenced by the amount of “‘appearance-enhancing products’ Asian women use.While there are now voices about accepting yourself for who you are, the desire to be prettier, fairer and thinner still largely exists, and the pressure is predominantly higher for Nepali women than men.Think of every wedding you have been to this week during the marriage season, one of the first things you say is how ‘beautiful’ the bride looks.There countless stories of accomplished women who are valued more for how they look than who they are. Given the amount of work women put in to be academically and professionally successful, if it comes down to just looks, many women would rather stay single than be selected from a catalog of girls.Sara is a college student who got a full scholarship to study in the United States, but she gets constant comments about her weight. “Marriage is a partnership between two people. It depends on compatibility and compromise. I value myself too much to be ‘chosen’ based on my appearance,” says Sara. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who chooses me for my size or skin colour. I’d much rather be happier single, living my life.”Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-unequal-marriages/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's unequal marriages</a>, Anjana RajbhandaryTara is a successful banker but when it comes to her private life, she has stopped attending family parties frustrated with people not respecting her boundaries.“Aren’t you getting too old? Who will marry you now? You will have to settle for a divorcee or a widower at this point” are just some of the comments she has received. “I know my worth, but the continuous belittling makes me furious,” she says.I myself waited so long to settle down because I did not want to give up my financial freedom and live with the in-laws to cook, clean, and serve, and become a glorified maid of sorts.If I were lucky enough to marry into a family that allowed me to work, I would still have the obligations and put myself last. I have heard many stories of this kind from my girlfriends and cousins.One’s financial condition can also determine the preference for marriage. Tina is a medical doctor and has been practicing for several years now. “I am financially and emotionally independent. I am self-sufficient, so I don’t feel the need for a partner,” she says.In Nepal, men are more financially independent than women. This is mostly because most women are not as educated or are not allowed to work after marriage, limiting their resources.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/letter-to-a-nepali-aunty/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Letter to a Nepali aunty</a>, Anjana RajbhandaryThis also makes them dependent on their spouse for support. The Covid-19 pandemic has made it worse with limited economic opportunities as it is or reduced income for many.“Women choose to remain single because they have a choice and capacity to navigate and lead their own life,” says LOOM Nepal founder Jyotsna Maskay.Indeed, women today do not feel the same pressure as our parents and their generation to settle down. Educated women know that they have a choice, and one of them is marriage.One choice is not better than the other but they choose to do what is right for them and what makes them happy.Isha recently got out of an unhappy marriage, and the resulting social stigma has followed her everywhere. “It is not easy being called names and held responsible for an unsuccessful marriage, especially as it was mostly his fault. But in our society, we women are to be blamed,” she says.Isha had her own painful journey and the path to self-acceptance was filled with challenges, but in the end, she chose herself over the image expected of her.She adds: “Some days are harder than others. In the marriage, every day was torture. Honestly, I feel empowered to have broken stereotypes.”All marriages are not awful, of course, but some can be. In the end, you have to prioritise yourself instead of being a people pleaser. Given a choice, it is always smarter to choose happiness over a husband.Anjana Rajbhandary writes this fortnightly Nepali Times column Life Time about mental health, physical health and socio-cultural issues. Some names have been changed.

Anjana Rajbhandary

Why are some Nepali women not getting married?

<figure><img width="1342" height="899" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cf99c7e80680e0b789ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: DARAZ</figcaption></figure>Aanchal Kunwar sits in her office that has an overview of employees of Daraz busy at their desks. A meeting is in progress in  a conference room next door.In January, Kunwar became one of few women in leadership in Nepal’s corporate sector, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/anchal-kunwar-at-daraz/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">heading the operations of Daraz</a>, the company now owned by China’s Alibaba.Kunwar was working for Amazon in Seattle when a recruiter reached out to her via LinkedIn to let her know that the Managing Director position was open at Daraz in Nepal. “I felt like coming back to Nepal after gaining all the experience would be more impactful than whatever else I could be doing right now in the US,” she says.Kunwar was born and raised in Kathmandu and spent her early childhood moving around the country because of her father’s job. She left for the US after high-school, graduated in maths and economics, and began to work for Carlson Wagonlit Travel (CWT) while doing her MBA. She then worked for Amazon for five and a half years, managing the company’s mass cosmetics business, working in global expansion -- helping launch the platform in countries like Sweden, Poland, Saudi Arabia and Egypt.  “Four years into that job is where I was starting to think --what do I want to do next in my life?” Kunwar recalls.  <img width="126" height="150" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720cfb9c7e80680e0b789bjpeg.jpg" alt="">“There was a clear path in terms of just moving up the ladder in the corporate world. But something in me was telling me that wasn't enough, and that I needed not something more, but probably something different, something that I believed would be more fulfilling.”  Kunwar had been considering going into the non-profit sector when Covid hit. “With the pandemic, I thought I’ll just hold my thoughts for a little bit because there were a lot of other things to handle.” When the Daraz opening in Nepal came up, she remembers thinking: “That would be cool.” Daraz would be a perfect fit: she was Nepali, had similar approaches to running a business in terms of being <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-company-wins-global-environment-awards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">socially and environmentally responsible</a>, and a customer focus.  Kunwar’s entry into Daraz coincides with a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-e-shopping-booms-under-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">dramatic growth in e-commerce in Nepal</a> as Nepalis locked up at home during the pandemic began to explore online purchases.   “The pandemic has definitely helped push people towards e-commerce more,” Kunwar notes. “Prior to the pandemic it was probably just the younger generation but during the pandemic, even the older demographics understood the convenience and started buying things online.”  Kunwar is convinced the Nepali market is quick to adopt new technologies, and gives the example of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-e-conomy-rapidly-goes-digital/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">growth in e-payments</a>. Even till last year, only 10% of Daraz business was through e-payments, now it is half.  Kunwar’s experience at Amazon has given her insight into how global markets operate, and the unique set of challenges that markets across the world present with legal restrictions, logistics, and tools. Nepal’s challenges include lack of experience in e-commerce which means sellers need the right kind of training and education to be able to answer questions, so buyers have the information they need to make a judgement call, she says. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-budding-e-commerce-ecosystem/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's budding e-commerce ecosystem</a>, Sikuma Rai Another challenge is that Nepal does not have a proper GPS mapping system, and deliveries still have to call people to figure out where exactly they are located. “An unstable government adds to the challenges with banda announcements,” Kunwar says. “And during Covid, if there is a lockdown or odd-even rules, we have to navigate that and ensure proper delivery. These challenges are unique to Nepal, you wouldn’t see them in the US.” She adds, “The companies I worked for in the US are very mature businesses, where processes are defined. Here in Nepal we still have a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Cross-Cutting/Start-ups-need-staying-power,439" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">start-up</a> culture. But we will probably be where Amazon is now in a number of years.”  Daraz currently operates in 47 cities across Nepal, and plans to expand to 80 this year. But Kunwar wants to take one step at a time, and have the logistics in place for growth. “In the last two years, we have had to run before we could walk, but in order to keep growing, we just need to have processes in place,” she says. “We need our key account managers to focus more on strategy and then have execution be more on a lower level.” This is dependent on improvements in connectivity, people being able to shop online, road infrastructure, and mapping systems.   As Daraz Nepal’s managing director, Kunwar joins a growing number of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/women-leaders-set-example-for-rest-of-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepali women taking the lead</a> in the corporate world. “My family raised me no differently than my brother,” she says. “So I’ve always questioned the status quo. I don't take 'This is just how things are’ as an answer.” She admits that there have been instances since she joined Daraz where men in power have shut her down halfway through her introduction.  “It is something that I wish was different but it’s not,” she admits. “But I don't necessarily let that get to me as long as it is not preventing me from doing what I want to do for the business, and for the country.” Kunwar says her driving force is putting in the hard work, and making her presence felt. Outside Daraz, Kunwar is passionate about education for under-served Nepalis and sponsors young students.   She wants to focus on mentorship because even when students have funding for education, they cannot dream bigger because they are stuck in their social milieu.  “I came back to make an impact for Nepal, it is broader than just Daraz,” says Kunwar. “Five years from now, I'm hoping to make some impact here, in addition to taking Daraz to new heights with the team.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/holding-up-half-the-economy/">Holding up half the economy</a>, Ashutosh Tiwari

Shristi Karki

New Daraz MD seeks to make an impact in Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c889c7e80680e0b7875jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1053" height="1012"/><figcaption>Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>On nights when things got unbearable, Laxmi Maya always stepped out of the house in the quiet of the night. There was nowhere to go, really, but the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7121#.YiRUsy8w3u0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">gully</a>. The gully or galli, as she said it, was the long tunnel that went from under the house on the main street into a courtyard where one of the four houses flanking the square, brick-paved space, was hers. Her husband’s family’s rather.The bickering over the house had gone on for so long. Every few weeks, government officials showed up at her threshold, and asked her innumerable questions. Where was the infamous husband? “I don’t know,” was Laxmi Maya’s consistent answer.As time went by, she had learned to say those words without at all batting an eyelid. And as she said it on repeat, the words became more believable to the government officials, as they did to her. She had started to believe she had no idea about his whereabouts.In her mind, Calcutta was a distant country of which she did not know anything. She did not know what its streets or nooks looked like or how the tram she had heard about operated. And so knowing that her husband was in Calcutta was tantamount to not knowing where he was. So, her statement was not entirely false.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/coping-with-the-patriarchy/">Coping with patriarchy</a>, Bhumi GhimiréThe government officials always appeared in a pair. Laxmi Maya would hurry upstairs to her baiga after asking them to sit down on the wicker mats and quickly poach two eggs and pour a dash of aeila into little copper kholas and present them before the men.“So you do not know where your husband is?” one of them would ask between taking a sip.“I don’t,” she would say quietly.“We are only letting you live in this house because you have three small children. By law, he is banished and so everything he owns is now government property, we hope you know.”“I know, Sarkar. But this house was given to me in dowry by my father,” Laxmi Maya would lie again. It had become a drill.Promptly, the officers would leave after polishing off their snack, setting in motion for Laxmi Maya, the wait for another such visit.Did she miss the husband? She could not say. His presence had been punctuated by his time spent with the dancers, or neighbourhood events from where he always came away as the feared. What was there to miss of such a man, besides moments of imagined intimacy when his limbs were hers to hold? She wondered, had she been a dancer, would it also have kept him from straying? Yes, they said he had strayed.Read also: <a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-unequal-marriages/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's unequal marriages</a>, Anjana RajbhandaryBut the women in her clan did not dance. They had not been taught to. Dancing, they said, was for women who were “loose”. They had taught her to speak softly, tread softer and to hold her tongue and restrict her movements to grace. That was who she was-- all those things they said she should be.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c8a9c7e80680e0b7876jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="126" height="150">Standing in the darkness of the galli, Laxmi Maya often felt streams of hot tears soak her face. She had never learned to cry before others, so the quiet of the night was a good time. On one such night, she had seen rows of carriages go by, carrying large boxes. They were followed by rumours that the Ranas were getting their belongings removed to India because some kind of revolution was afoot to throw them off. They said that was why the king had left for India.Tonight, though, there was no such activity. It was quiet. As Laxmi Maya stood there, tears finding their way down her jaw, she thought she saw a light flicker near the Naradevi temple. It was followed by the clanking of a door and then of ghangala, the bunch of bells worn by the goddess. Wafting in with the sound was the goddess herself, stepping out of her temple, draped in a long red frock, a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-behind-the-divine-mask/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">mask</a> on her face. As the deity started doing the familiar dance, lilting her hands in the air, feet shuffling, Laxmi Maya froze, but her tears ran down in thick rivulets. She stared in awe and trembled.…“The wedding was fun?”“The ratyauli was fun.”“The what?”“Yes. Ratyauli. I had heard about it but never seen one before,” says Mamu.I ask her to explain, but she says she cannot because it would embarrass us both. She will not divulge any detail, but tells me how she felt a tinge of envy that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/parodying-patriarchy-at-tij/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women had the liberty</a> to engage in that kind of lewd talk without being judged while singing and dancing and acting.Read also: <a style="font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/boys-will-be-boys-is-never-an-excuse/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Boys will be boys is never an excuse</a>, Anjana Rajbhandary“How come women in our community don’t dance?” I ask.“We have the gods and the goddess, the masked dancers,” she says.“But they are all men wearing masks,” I remind her. Then Mamu goes on to explain how apart from the Jyapu community, women from other clans had never been given that kind of freedom.“Don’t you think that is so unfair? Taking the right from you to revel, to be in tune with your own body. When else do you explore the joy of being in your body as you do with dancing? It is so much to take away from a woman.”“I don’t know, I never thought about it. My movements don’t sync and so I don’t dance.”Mamu often sits in a corner watching others dance. When asked to dance, she will sometimes try, but her footwork never matches her hand gestures or the music: “I guess, I just watch people dance.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/patriarchy-in-an-oligarchy/">Patriarchy in an oligarchy</a>, Editorial…Dance! My senior, who is having a “ragging” session with me, orders. Do the twist, she says, and sings a Rafi number. What is a twist, I wonder. She says, if you do not obey your seniors, you measure the entire campus with a one rupee coin. In my heart, I wished I could just dance and get over it. But I can’t. Like Mamu, my feet are wooden, too. I just stand there, my face burning in shame and fury.Here, she says. Take this coin and now go measure the entire place with it.As I bend down at her feet and place the coin on the ground, I wish I could have told her I cannot dance because women in my community <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/letter-to-a-nepali-aunty/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">are not expected to dance</a>. But saying that, would also require a dance-- of the tongue. So, I bend down and start flipping the coin inch by inch across the campus.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/anger-management-for-nepali-women/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Feel angry? read this</a>, Anjana RajbhandarySuburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

The light of feet

<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19ae9c7e80680e0ac832jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SONAM CHOEKYI LAMA</figcaption></figure>The climate crisis is a water crisis – either too much of it, or too little. Droughts have dried up springs, and when it does rain, it comes down to unleash deadly <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandus-flash-floods-are-4-decades-in-the-making/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flash floods</a>.
If there was an effective farm irrigation network, reliable and safe drinking water in every village, Nepalis would find it much easier to cope with the impact of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/un-climate-report-declares-planetary-emergency/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">climate emergency</a>.  Historical state failure has provided neither, and blaming climate change now is just a convenient excuse to cover up for past neglect.
There have always been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/first-drought-then-downpour/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">droughts in Nepal</a>.  For millennia, Himalayan rivers have unleashed catastrophic floods. The climate crisis has just made them worse, as poorly designed infrastructure and settlements lead to more destructive disasters.  
Melting icecaps get all the media attention as the world deals with climate change, but it is the<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/tracing-past-glacial-floods-in-kangchenjunga/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> state of our streams, rivers, and ground water</a> that affect more people immediately. 
With outmigration of men from rural areas, it is mostly women who are left to farm, raise livestock, fetch water, and care for the household. Even before the climate crisis hit, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/educating-girls-for-climate-action/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">work of Nepali women</a> was demanding and undervalued. Global warming has just made their drudgery much worse.   
<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Climate change is a disaster in the Nepal Himalaya</a>, Sonam Choekyi Lama
In Kavre district, women who had to walk a few minutes to fetch water now have to make one hour roundtrips because <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-silent-emergency-springs-going-dry/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">springs have dried up</a>. With the men-folk gone, women like Namdak Sangmo in our special report from Dolpo struggle to survive after their farms were swept away by a glacial flood. 
You do not need to be a gender activist to see how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-doubly-burdened-by-climate-change/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women bear a disproportionate burden from the climate crisis</a>. Across the Himalayan foothills, farm terraces lie dry and fallow. Women are not just heading households now, they also have to make decisions about planting, irrigation, harvesting, grazing, foraging, cooking, and taking care of children. 
While remittance money has helped raise the standard of living, extreme events like the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/monsoon-hits-nepal-with-a-bang/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">deadly floods and landslides this monsoon</a> season add to the misery. Three-fourths of Nepal’s farmers are dependent on rain-fed agriculture, and the combined impact of weather extremes and the pandemic have added to food insecurity. 
Increased work for women in the household means many daughters drop out of school to help with household chores. Most of these problems predate climate change, but <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-in-climate-hot-spots-face-challenges-adapting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">global warming has added to the challenges women face every day</a>. 
The most low-hanging fruit for climate adaptation in Nepal is to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-waste-land/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">provide women with enough water</a>,  or protect their families from too much of it. And that is exactly where most of Nepal’s success stories are happening. 
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come/">Himalayan floods a sign of worse to come</a>, Mukesh Pokharel
Faced with dry springs, Mother’s Groups and Forestry User Groups in Kavre have joined forces to harvest monsoon water for household use in the dry season. They have revived traditional network of ponds for groundwater recharge, and nurtured indigenous plant species in community forests.  
In Kailali district in the western plains, farmers who used to suffer from chronic floods are using botanical buffers. Bamboo and napier grass on embankments and sugarcane on riverbanks block floods, while providing cash income. In Kanchanpur district, villagers also grow banana, watermelon, pumpkin, squash and gourd after the floods recede, taking advantage of nutrient-rich soil deposit.
While developmental partners, aid agencies and non-governmental organisations have played a crucial role in introducing climate-specific interventions, theirs is a piecemeal approach. In fact, it often lets the government off the hook. We need to scale up these successful pilot projects nationwide.
With or without the climate crisis, it is the state’s responsibility to ensure access to water for households and irrigation. After all, droughts and floods are nothing new here. 
Nepal’s delegation to the <a href="https://ukcop26.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">COP26 Climate Summit</a> next week will be led by Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba. But instead of going to Glasgow, Deuba should head out to his home constituency of Dadeldhura-1 to see for himself how the most marginalised women have coped with this year’s triple whammy – drought, wildfires and floods.  
In Glasgow, the focus is on emissions reduction and compensating countries like Nepal for loss and damage. Nepal’s delegation has little right to hold out the begging bowl when it is doing so little for its own people back home. Climate justice and historical emissions sound good in speeches, but it does not deliver food security today. 
Women and their added vulnerability to the climate emergency should not be limited to sound bites at international fora, but goad real action that prioritise them.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/think-globally-in-glasgow-and-act-locally/">Think globally in Glasgow, and act locally</a>, Raju Pandit Chhetri
Sonia Awale

Sonia Awale

Women and water

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18c29c7e80680e0ac7e1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"/><figcaption>Photo: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>If you are a woman, it is easy to get angry. If you are a Nepali woman, it is even easier to get mad at cultural norms and societal pressures that have become an unnecessary constant in your life.Despite our progress, women are made to feel like they are there to serve the men, many of whom speak of gender, class or ethnic equality but <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/epidemic-of-online-sexism/">rarely apply it to their lives</a>.For example, it is pointless trying to convince a man that it is not an insult to his manhood to prepare a cup of tea for you. Alternatively, when was the last time your <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/boys-will-be-boys-is-never-an-excuse/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">older brother or husband</a> brought you a cup of tea when you came home tired from work?I have held on to years of frustration and anger within me, and talking to other women, I realised that they do as well. It is terrible to constantly feel negative emotions because it affects our physical health and our overall well-being.When I was younger, I vented out my anger a lot but over the years, it has adversely affected my relationships with people. My inability to let go has affected my life quality and the time spent with my loved ones.Early on in life, I learned that it is better to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-mum-about-sexual-assault/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">speak up</a> about the issues bothering you than holding them in. But I misinterpreted it so that I started to express my frustration over minor problems instead of thinking about them critically.When I asked others for help, they told me not to get angry, which made me angrier because I already knew that. I didn’t want to be angry, but I needed to learn how not to be.I once met this wise person who told me that there is nothing wrong with anger, that it is normal — but it is how we express the anger that makes a difference.Having been angry for years, he told me that I would not stop at will, but it was possible to change. He told me to think about a few things when I get angry, which can be challenging in the heat of the moment, so I decided to write them down to look at when I get mad.“Ask if it is worth it.”“How is this anger benefitting me now?”“Do not react, no matter how mad you feel—hold it in and be patient.”“Put your phone away.”We have all become more impulsive about the need to express anger. In this digital world, it means expressing it via instant messages or social media, angry Tweets that you cannot take back.I thought holding things in was a sign of weakness, but sometimes it is a sign of intelligence.Often, I have regretted the things said and texted when I was angry. So, practicing patience is one of the best pieces of advice for anger management. It allows me to feel anger but not react until I have cooled down. Generally, things don’t seem as awful after you give it time.This is not me saying to hold things in, but it is always best not to react in the heat of the moment when things usually come out wrong. It is also not about letting all the anger go, but analysing it to see why it bothers you so much.Anger is oftentimes hidden sadness, and as such, I thought of it as my strength. But I have hurt too many people in the process, so I am trying to rid myself of this habit.So now, whenever I get angry, I look at my notes and wait. It is difficult, but I do it because it is the best way to approach anger. I take it one day at a time, and it works.I am still working on not reacting unnecessarily to people but giving myself time to see if what caused the anger is worth it, and the truth is, it never is. In the past, I used to realise it too late, but not anymore.It will take a long time for our society and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/coping-with-the-patriarchy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">its patriarchal ways</a> to change. In the meantime, we cannot afford to lose more of ourselves and our ability to reason by giving into negative emotions. Change comes from within and from a mind at peace.That is why the first step is to channel the energy productively. We need to be mature about this and know which emotions to express and which ones to hold in.When I feel myself boiling inside, I wait, breathe, and pray for the strength to let go of the anger that benefits no one. I am working on controlling my anger rather than letting it control me. It is the best present I can give myself this Festive season.

Feel angry? Read this.

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfbad9c7e80680e0a0b47jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photos: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>She towered over me like a lone poplar tree. She was four years older than I was at the time she came to live with us. Sita was the eldest of her siblings and her father had sent her to Kathmandu so she could contribute to the family income.Ten-year-old Sita’s job was to babysit for one of our relatives—two babies watching one another. When a bunch of grapes disappeared, the employers decided to dismiss the babysitter. Sita was just being a child picking and popping into her mouth something she liked the taste of, but she was supposed to be an ‘employee’ and expected to behave like an adult.Her father insisted that she stay in Kathmandu, and so the child remained, moving from one home to another, as employers tired of her antics. One of them had to yank her off the balcony railing, after which, she was sent to ours.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/welcome-to-suburbia/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Welcome to suburbia</a>, Pratibha TuladharWhen I asked my mother recently why she had accepted a child as helper, she said it was because she knew that she would be sent somewhere else if not to ours, and that she thought a house with two girls would be safer for her.Sita showed up one afternoon on the motorbike of her former employer at our home on the outskirts of Kathmandu. She was carrying a small bag of clothes. She was wearing a kurta with traces of lint—something I had seen my relative wear before, now altered to fit a 14-year-old.I had met Sita before when I had visited my relatives, a radiant face resting on tall, lean limbs. Her eyes were light brown and her hair the same colour, resting in an array of curls over her forehead and her temples. She did not look much different when she arrived at ours. And neither did she look nervous for someone coming to live in a new place.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/be-water/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">My mother</a> and Nini got busy after her arrival, making arrangements for a bedding of a single mattress, a pillow and a blanket. She would sleep in my room, on the floor. I couldn’t understand the arrangement, but I got used to it.She folded her bedding every morning, arranging it under my bookshelf which hung on the wall. If sometimes she saw me sitting on it with a book between my fingers, she would tell me to get off in fluent Newa: “Maicha! Ana makhu.”Sita made our home hers, quickly. She was expected to bring my sister and me to the bus stop everyday and help Mam run errands. But Mam complained that “the child” delayed her. Clearly, she also made her laugh.Mam, with wisps of gray sticking over her head would sit under a tree in the afternoons, smoking her beedi. On a hot day, she would fall asleep under the tree, and Sita would get to work, poking her ear with a leaf. Furious, Mam would clench her hand into a fist and threaten to hit Sita. “This girl has too much energy. Utauli, chakchaki!”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfbb09c7e80680e0a0b48jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853">And as if to prove the point, Sita made sure to punctuate our days with events. One morning, as we waited for our school bus to arrive, Sita pointed at the pipal tree and said, “Nests!” And before we knew, she was climbing the tree.“Sita Didi!” we yelled from below, as she scrambled up like she knew the tree branch by branch. When we got into the school bus, I craned my neck to watch her from the window as the bus raced off with us inside. My heart pounding, I caught a glimpse of her stretching one arm to grab the nest.When we stepped off at the bus stand that afternoon, Mam was waiting for us. Sita had been grounded. Upon entering my room, I saw two weaver birds’ nests. One was over a foot long, the other one was smaller. Sita had nailed them to two corners of our room. I dumped my bag on the floor to touch them.“I saw you read about them in your sience book,” she beamed. My science book had a chapter on different kinds of bird nests, one of them had been the weaver bird’s nest.A couple of weeks later, Sita was allowed to go to the bus stand again. As we waited under the pipal tree, my sister wept. She hadn’t finished her homework. Sita pulled out her notebook and hurriedly wrote her homework for her. “There, your teacher won’t scold you now.” She whacked my sister’s head, “Badmass!”Coming home from school was also coming home to Sita’s radiant face. One time, she greeted us with bruises all over her limbs, spiky branches strewn over the front porch. She had climbed a thorny tree to gather firewood for Shivaratri, bringing down fresh branches that would not burn.When my mother exclaimed how terrified she had been that she might fall, Sita reminded her that she had “conquered” a pipal tree. I did not understand my mother’s patience with her.One afternoon, Sita locked herself in the kitchen for hours. When she unlocked the door, she had made aloo achar. She said it was her “especial” for us, the first time she had cooked. The potatoes were raw and I told her the achar was horrible. But my mother ate it, smiling as she did.When Sita turned 15, her father showed up. Mam found her hiding at the dhunge dhara by the hillside. It was time for her to go home. When we returned from school her bedclothes still sat under my bookshelf but the lightness of her presence was missing. It angered me that no one had told me she was leaving, but no one tells a child such things.Sita had been “<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/child-marriage-in-Nepal,3863" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">given away in marriage</a>” after she went back home, we heard. A decade later Sita visited my mother in our home in Maharajganj, when she brought a relative to the Teaching Hospital.“She leaned against the wall the entire time we talked. She was wearing a red cotton sari and had grown much taller and fuller. But she looked tired,” my mother recalls.We haven’t heard from her since, but my mother likes to punctuate our kitchen conversations with Sita anecdotes.Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Sita

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141124/636cfbaa9c7e80680e0a0b46jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Photo: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Namaste Aunty,It has been a while. I think the last time we met was at our cousin’s wedding. It was a good one, lasted one whole week, and I can imagine how stressed everyone was, but it went well.It is always a headache to find five different outfits, we cannot repeat saris because God forbid, someone might notice. Also, I did not repeat jewelry because what would people think if I wore the same earrings twice in a week?I know you judged every woman there, you noticed what she wore, how much she ate, who all she spoke to, and you may have also seen some women who were quiet the whole night, either sitting alone staring at the unknown or standing next to their husbands. Not every couple is genuinely happy. But we all gossip and tell tales.But I also know you are strong. To be a woman and a Nepali woman, you have to be. You have the world of responsibilities on your small yet strong shoulders. You have managed households and raised many. I think I am trying to understand how you changed from how I am to what you are at present.I think I know why you are the way you are. It is because we have both lived the same life. You were me at some point, and I hope I am like you in the future, minus some of the qualities that you developed along the way.We both grew up with rules and expectations. We both represented the grace and the shame of our families, where one wrong decision, and we would be scarred for life. That is the life of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/boys-will-be-boys-is-never-an-excuse/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">woman in our society</a>. We are meant to be pure, untouched and strong enough to wait for a man who comes back home at 3AM.In the beginning, you used to upset me. You always talked about my skin tone, my weight and my <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/dreaded-bliss/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">future wedding date</a>. You made me question if I was still of a desirable age. As I grew older, I realised some things.You had a difficult life because you had it more challenging than me. Maybe it was your in-laws, your aunties or the society that tested you every step of the way and hardened your heart with the years.You had to survive, and you did what you had to do to protect yourself. You grew stern and distant. You hid your vulnerability to the point where you forgot you have a heart. You took away your softness to not feel hurt.But when you say something about me, ask yourself if you would do that if I was your daughter. And if you do not have a daughter, think of me as someone you used to be. Please do not teach me also to harden my heart. Please let me live a happy life without the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/shamed-for-bleeding/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">constraints of society</a>. You felt the pain, and you know how much it hurts. I wish for you not to let me go through it.Please try to live the life that makes you happy and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/maybe-baby/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">let me live mine</a> the same way because we only have one. What I feel now is what you felt, you were once tender and kind. It is still there inside you.The beauty in your simplicity is forgotten but remember who you used to be. Remember the light inside you. Remember, you are the same woman who has lived the life we live now and bring to the surface the softness that you have hidden for so long, and all of us will be in a better place.Our lives are divine. Relight the radiance in your compassion. You are a force that can end wars. You are governed by love and kindness. And I know it will be slow, but you and I are meant to get along. You are the light to lead me in the darkness because I trust you to show me the path.Let us not hide the unspoken truth: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/educating-your-sons-will-protect-your-daughters/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">you have been hurt</a>, and you have all suffered, so please understand the pain. Do not hide your true self anymore. It is both our worlds together, let us make it more liveable together.I will always carry love and respect for you in my heart because you taught me that respect is mutual irrespective of age and gender. Help me be a better person. Be the guide that I need. Look at me with the eyes that you wish your aunties looked at you with because you were me once too.I promise to text you before tomorrow’s reception so we do not show up wearing the same shoes.Much love,Your Younger VersionAnjana Rajbhandary lives and works in Chicago. She writes this fortnightly Nepali Times column Life Time about mental health, physical health and socio-cultural issues.

Letter to a Nepali aunty

Nepal’s only international aviation gateway, at Kathmandu airport, will cut night-time operation hours to allow construction of taxiways, and airlines have been told to curtail flights. This is expected to lead to more than normal chaos during the height of peak autumn and spring tourist seasons at an airport that is congested even at the best of times. The airport will close from 10PM to 8AM from 8 November-31 March 2025. The taxiways will now connect to the thresholds at both ends of the runway, making the airport more efficient in handling higher frequencies of landings and takeoffs. The parallel taxiway extension will allow international flights to land every 4 minutes instead of the current every 7 minutes. At present planes have to wait to land until a plane taking off backtracks along the runway.&nbsp; Kathmandu is Nepal’s only airport with international operations, and it has only one runway that is only one way in from the south over the mountains. With the taxiway improvement, the airport will be able to handle 42 aircraft landings and takeoffs per hour — double the current capacity.&nbsp; The Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) has been trying to entice international airlines to also start flying to and from the other two international airports at Pokhara and Bhairawa (Lumbini) by slashing landing and handling charges. But so far only Nepal Airlines operates a weekly flight to Bhairawa from Kuala Lumpur.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2356" height="1134" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport expansion"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Airport Expansion plan with extension of taxiways to the thresholds of runways 02 and 20 that will limit airport operations from 8 November 2024 - 31 March 2025. Areas in blue are existing structures, including the international terminal which in future will be the domestic airport, and the new international terminal near the north end of the runway,</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1353" height="1328" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport NT"> </figure>  CAAN has reportedly told international airlines to cut their flight frequency to Kathmandu citing the shorter operation hours and has told budget airlines to shift some of their flights to Pokhara or Bhairawa, or face cuts. Many airlines currently operate regular flights to and from Kathmandu between 10PM and 8AM: Air Arabia to Sharjah, Fly Dubai to Dubai, Jazeera Airways to Kuwait, Cathay Pacific to Hong Kong, Singapore Airlines, several Nepal Airlines flights, and one of four daily flights by Qatar Airways to Doha. Jazeera Airways, FlyDubai, and Thai AirAsia have applied and got permission from CAAN to begin regular flights to Bhairawa’s Gautam Buddha International Airport. Starting 9 November, FlyDubai will start making a stopover in Bhairawa before flying on to Kathmandu. Immigration, customs and security are all fully functional in Bhairawa. In Kathmandu, the next phase of the airport upgrade includes converting the current international terminal for domestic operations, the construction of a new international terminal where the domestic departure area is now, as well as moving the hangars and the Nepal Army Air Wing to the eastern side of the runway. The apron area will also double its parking space for widebody jets. This is part of a Airport Capacity Enhancement Project that was initially funded through a $80 million loan from the Asian Development Bank (ADB), and the entire masterplan is expected to cost $800 million. This project is the latest upgrade to Nepal’s only international airport since it saw its first flight in 1949. The current international and domestic terminals are too small to handle the current annual traffic volume of 8.5 million passengers a year that is growing at 20% a year.

Kathmandu airport to cut flight hours

As Kathmandu becomes more congested and polluted, and with remote online work becoming the norm, many professional Nepalis are planning to retire in Pokhara, or move there.&nbsp; With its stunning mountain panorama, balmy winters and proximity to a profusion of wilderness areas, builders are responding to this demand with new townhouses, housing development and apartments. One such block of flats is the 10-storey <a href="https://sungavaapartment.com/">Sungava Apartment</a> located at Phulbari above the Seti River, near the point where it flows into and under Pokhara. The imposing structure near Manipal Hospital is almost complete, and on a recent visit the site was strewn with huge boulders unearthed while digging the foundation.&nbsp; The Seti brought down these boulders during a gigantic flood that geologists estimate happened 800 years ago when a chunk of Annapurna IV broke off and ploughed into the glacier below. Today, Sungava (means ‘orchid’) sits safely on a high terrace, 100m above the blue-green Seti and commands a view of Dhaulagiri, Annapurna South, Machapuchre, Annapurna III and IV.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  The soil here is conglomerate that has solidified like concrete, and the boulders were extracted by heavy earthmovers. It is intriguing to think that these metamorphic rocks as big as cars, rounded by glacial grinding, were once a part of a much higher Annapurna IV. Even for those with little interest in geology, Sungava is an ideal place to contemplate the tectonic forces that pushed these peaks into the sky to be sculpted into delicate shapes by wind, snow, earthquake and avalanche over millions of years. The view of the Himalayan panorama from Sungava’s many balconies are breathtaking when not obscured by clouds, or the haze that drifts in from across the southern border. On most days, just watching the towering pyramid of Machapuchre (Tamu name: कतासुँ क्लिको) play hide and seek with the clouds is mesmerising. There are rocks aplenty at Phulbari, and it is probably the flowers that grew along the flat terraces e that gave the place its flowery name. The boulders will hopefully be turned into a rock garden while landscaping. An nearby restaurant complex is making the best use of the stones in its design, using flat rocks as outdoor benches and tables. Sungava was designed by the husband-wife architect team of Deepak Sherchan and Jyoti Joshi of <a href="https://thedarkmermaidamarbshrestha.blogspot.com/2013/12/creative-builders-collaborative-cbc.html">Creative Builders Collaborative (CBC)</a>, which also built Heritage Plaza, Indreni Apartment and numerous other projects in Nepal. Sadbhavana retains CBC’s trademark Newari-style masonry and here it borrows from the orange brickwork of the old town of Pokhara, integrating it with modern design elements. A few of those heritage houses are still standing in Ganesh Tole and Ram Krishna Tole in Pokhara’s old quarter.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab" data-rendition-name="original" width="1362" height="595" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  About 400m from the apartment past a bend on the river, and down below three tiers of terraces in the canyon is a suspension bridge. Below it, the Seti is still swollen with post-monsoon flow as it tumbles away in a hurry to head down south.&nbsp; Back at the apartment, it is quiet, far away from the hubbub of Lakeside a 15 minute drive away, and in the lap of greenery. There are 52 units at Sungava and it already has a close-knit prospective community of professionals, including doctors, publishers, engineers, and businesspeople from the renewable energy and IT sectors.&nbsp; Some residents say they opted for a second home in Pokhara to make it a ‘base camp’ to explore the Annapurnas with its many hiking trails made newly accessible with new roads. With the NRN citizenship law, overseas Nepalis can now also buy the flats. &nbsp; The floor plans include options for north and south-facing 3-bedroom apartments with verandas, and the facility has underground parking has EV charging, heated pool, sauna and gym. There are still some unsold apartments with panoramic views of the mountains and one can imagine oneself at the kitchen with its huge window, humming a ditty while preparing breakfast: “खाना पकाउँ हिमाल हेरेर...”

High living below the Himalaya

When the United Nations held its Summit of the Future at its headquarters in New York in September, many world leaders, including Nepal’s Prime Minister K P Oli, highlighted the effect of climate breakdown in increasing the frequency and intensity of natural disasters. What did not get as much attention was the long term impact of the climate crisis on food production. In fact, heat stress, weather extremes and the consequences on rain-fed agriculture is already being felt worldwide, undermining the chances of the <a href="https://unstats.un.org/sdgs/">UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)</a> being met by 2030.&nbsp; The SDG’s 17 targets commit countries like Nepal to reduce poverty and inequality, end malnutrition, protect the natural environment, and ensure that citizens all enjoy health, justice and prosperity without leaving anyone behind.&nbsp; However, besides the impact of climate breakdown on agricultural production, in Nepal the area under cultivation is impacted by urban expansion, falling productivity and the need for expensive inputs like fertiliser and pesticides.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Kathmandu's urban sprawl is eating into its fertile cultivable lands. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  Now, a new study led by Nepali researcher Prajal Pradhan at the University of Groningen in The Netherlands looks at how urban agriculture may offer a solution to falling food production and meeting SDG targets. The researchers evaluated 1,450 publications exploring the contributions of urban agriculture with both positive and negative effects, and published their findings in the journal Cells Report Sustainability. Urban agriculture can help achieve 17 SDGs, positively influencing 81 targets. However, it could also undermine 51 goals.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land">The vanishing land</a>, Taylor Mason “Urban agriculture offers immense potential for sustainable development, but realising this potential depends crucially on adopting practices that minimise its adverse effects while maximising its benefits,” Pradhan explains. Urban agriculture can substantially enhance urban food security, provide employment to the urban poor, serve as ground water recharge in built-up areas, and preserve open spaces that can serve as safe havens during disasters like earthquakes. However, it also presents problems like the potential health risks from contamination and the need for expensive inputs. &nbsp; “Urban agriculture plays a definitive role in advancing the SDGs, but achieving this requires tailored, context-specific solutions that address the unique challenges of different regions,” says Yuanchao Hu of Wuhan University in China and who is a researcher at the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research. “But it needs equitable access and rigorous management of environmental risks.”&nbsp; Rapid urbanisation is eating into Nepal’s most fertile agricultural land, which means farming in remaining open spaces inside cities can be a viable alternative, especially as food prices rise.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>A vegetable patch in between new houses in Thimi. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  “The conversion of Nepal’s most fertile land into cities is a severe problem,” Pradhan told Nepali Times. “Crop cultivation, horticulture, agroforestry, beekeeping, livestock rearing, or aquaculture can all be farming activities within and around cities.”&nbsp; The study makes recommendations for sustainable practices that build on the positive aspects of urban agriculture while mitigating the downsides, thereby promoting more resilient cities in future. Research shows that urban agriculture has been helping many countries attain SDG targets by enhancing food security and biodiversity while helping education and preservation of open spaces.&nbsp; Indeed, many farmers from the hinterland who have settled in Kathmandu Valley or other urban areas of the country have been practicing urban agriculture, leasing neighbourhood patches or cultivating roof gardens both out of necessity because of inflation and falling income to grow their own food, and also as a fulfilling hobby. Saurav Dhakal, a sustainability advocate with Story Cycle and now research fellow at the Asian Institute of Technology in Thailand, says there are socio-economic and environmental benefits of urban agriculture. “It provides benefits to all urban dwellers, regardless of their income status,” says Dhakal, “families get fresh food, and there are many other benefits like water retention, heat regulation and biodiversity. These are all public goods, so special government incentives may be needed.” It is not unusual to see vegetable patches and even paddy fields within inner city Kathmandu where an older generation of farmers are using available fertile land and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/rooftop-gardens-kathmandu,1415">roof gardens to produce fresh, nutritious food </a>to reduce their dependence on food items that have to be bought after being trucked in from large distances.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>An older generation of farmers are using any available fertile land to continue farming but it is getting more and more difficult. Photo: TAYLOR MASON </figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s urban population grew rapidly from only 3.6% in 1991 to 25% today. There is large outmigration from the mountains to peri-urban areas of the Tarai, to Kathmandu Valley and Pokhara, with many young men then moving abroad for work. Kathmandu Valley’s population has swelled to nearly 3 million, and is growing at 6.5% a year. Dilip Shrestha, 71, used to work for Nepal Food Corporation, so he knew firsthand about inflation, shortages and vegetables with pesticide residue. So, when he designed his new house in Kathmandu, he built a spacious roof where he grows cucumber, ginger, garlic, coriander, onions, tomatoes, chili, beans, okra, pumpkin and lettuce. His family eats healthier, and he has reduced dependence on the market.&nbsp; The co-author of the Cell Reports Sustainability journal article, Daya Raj Subedi who is a PhD candidate at Beijing Forestry University, says urban agriculture also promotes inclusion and psycho-social wellbeing.&nbsp; He says, “A crucial finding of the study is the identification of opportunities and challenges associated with urban agriculture, it can promote sustainable transformation of society.” In Banepa, 55-year-old Bijaya Manandhar in her lifetime has watched the fertile farms of her neighbourhood that used to supply vegetables to Kathmandu, now completely built up with no open space left. The pandemic lockdown prompted her to turn to the family’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world">ancestral livelihood by growing food</a> not on terrace farms, but on the roof terrace. Manandhar is now a part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world%5C%5C">कौसी खेती र करेसाबारी क्रान्ती</a> (Rooftop Farming and Garden Revolution) which has an online membership of 52,000, and awards annual prizes to women who excel in urban agriculture.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="736" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Rooftop farming is gaining popularity as a form of urban agriculture. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> </figure>  Pradhan says the challenge now is to upscale such examples of successful urban agricultural practices so they support Neal’s efforts to meet SDG targets. He adds, “Crop cultivation around cities can be protected by land use plans and regulations. Promoting community-based agriculture, including rooftop gardens, requires community engagement and public-private partnerships across the food value chain.”&nbsp; Such support would accelerate the popularity of existing rooftop farming and community gardens in Kathmandu Valley, or kitchen garden initiatives in Pokhara, and building on traditional farming practices that are preserved and integrated into urban settings like in Bhaktapur and Banepa. In Lalitpur, the Women Entrepreneurship Facilitation Center promotes urban farming enhancing both sustainability and empowerment.&nbsp; Another co-author of the report, Yuanchao Hu from China says followup research of the team will aim to identify good practices in local urban agriculture practices. He adds, “There are examples of urban agriculture that optimise sustainability, ensuring that it remains a viable solution for cities globally while countries try to meet SDG targets.” Prajal Pradhan, Daya Raj Subedi, Kshitij Dahal, Yuanchao Hu, Prakriti Gurung, Sijal Pokharel, Sagar Kafle, Biplav Khatri, Sudeeksha Basyal, Monika Gurung, and Aruna Joshi. Urban Agriculture matters for sustainable development. Cell Reports Sustainability, 1:100217, 2024. [DOI: 10.1016/j.crsus.2024.100217] Prajal Pradhan (<a href="mailto:p.pradhan@rug.nl">p.pradhan@rug.nl</a>) This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

Back to the land in the cities

The 700-year-old Lakshmi Narasingha temple in Bhaktapur houses a rare half-lion and half-human incarnation of Lord Vishnu carrying the Goddess Lakshmi. The temple was destroyed in the 1934 mega earthquake that killed 10,000 people and destroyed many monuments in Kathmandu Valley. It was rebuilt by a German project in the 1980s, but as a single-storey structure instead of its original two-tier pagoda design.&nbsp; With new findings from in-depth research, Bhaktapur municipality began re-restoring the temple in 2021, preserving its original architecture.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “Our temples and heritage sites hold deep meaning. It is disheartening to witness how often they lose their original elements, whether by design or accident,” explains Kumar Chawal of the Consumer Committee of Bhaktapur. “There is a need to preserve our architecture and protect its historical value for future generations. Otherwise, we risk losing a vital part of our identity.” The Laksmi Narsingha restoration is similar to the Bhai Dega temple in Patan Darbar Square which also collapsed in 1934, but was rebuilt with a Moghul-style dome by the Rana government at the time. Only two months before the 2015 earthquake, heritage conservationists had started to rebuild Bhai Dega as the original three-tier based on early photographs. But priorities shifted when four other temples in the square were brought down by the 7.8M earthquake on 25 April 2015.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  This showed how damage to monuments in Kathmandu Valley spanned from one earthquake to the next. Bhai Dega restoration remains half-complete to this day because money for its restoration ran out.&nbsp; Whereas Bhai Dega restoration was done by the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust with grants from western embassies and international foundations, in Bhaktapur it is the municipality itself that allocated the Rs30.7 million needed to restore the Lakshmi Narasingha temple. The expected date of completion is early 2025. The municipality and local communities are focusing on two main aspects: preserving the past and promoting localisation. The restoration team has designed a blueprint for the temple by using historical photographs and insights from older generations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="560" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “At first, the Lakshmi Narasingha temple had only one entrance, but during the demolition process, we uncovered the foundations of four doors. Now, we are restoring all of them. This is an example of how our ancient structures have changed over time, often without our knowledge,” says Chawal. “Constructing temples is not like building houses. They carry historical and spiritual values, which is why they hold a special place in our hearts,” he adds. By replicating ancient design elements and rebuilding the temple as accurately as possible to its original form, the team has stayed true to Bhaktapur’s soul. But the restoration also revived ancient techniques that were in danger of being forgotten, generating employment for woodcarvers, masons, and contractors. The community of Bhaktapur’s Gahiti neighbourhood near the famous Nyatapola Temple has also set aside specific days for locals to volunteer in the reconstruction work. This has encouraged young people to take pride in ownership of their heritage. Families have also supported the effort by donating funds for bells, the temple pinnacle, and other structural features to the temple.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “I feel at peace knowing I have contributed my sweat to restoring this temple,” said one volunteer. “It is our duty to preserve our temples and heritage. The Nyatapola area will look magical once this temple is completed.” Community mobilisation is a long-standing tradition in Bhaktapur. In the past, locals have actively participated in the restoration of other temples in the city, such as Bhairav and Nyatapola fostering a strong sense of ownership. This collective engagement has not only been crucial in preserving the city's historical monuments but also in strengthening the bond between local communities and their heritage, says officials at the municipality. While securing funding is essential, and the municipality showed it values heritage conservation, the Lakshmi Narasingha restoration is proof that active involvement and sense of responsibility of the local community is as important, if not more. Local involvement also means that the monuments will be cared for into the future, When locals take ownership of these efforts, the restored monuments are not only protected in the present but are also cared for in the future.