<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6cb9c7e80680e096787jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Suresh Teli and his father Purna Teli at the Tribhuvan International Airport. Photo: UPASANA KHADKA</figcaption></figure>On January 20, Prabhu Nath Teli in Kapilvastu received a call from Krishna Chaudhary in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-and-malaysia-rewrite-rules-for-migrant-labour/">Malaysia</a>, a co-worker of his 24-year-old son Suresh. The two had worked together at D&amp;Y Textile for the past three years, and Suresh had been seriously injured after jumping off the first floor of his hostel.Only three days before, Prabhu had spoken with his son who had sounded distraught after not being able to come home despite months of trying.  Suresh now has a serious spinal injury following the jump, which along with his erratic behaviour was a result of the severe mental pressure he was under.“My son wanted to come home but his employer was not willing to let him return,” says Prabhu, adding that his son’s supervisor had called the police on him when they got into a disagreement over his absence. “This scared Suresh, and in an attempt to escape he jumped off the first floor of his hostel and got severely injured.” On the one hand, his employer was unwilling to let him go. On the other, personal family issues were piling up over the three years he had been away. To make matters worse, Suresh had a history of mental health problems. “He was suffering from depression before going to Malaysia, but he responded well to treatment. He got better over the years and was doing well in Malaysia,” recalls Prabhu. “But not being able to return home was a trigger, and his mental health problems re-emerged.” Jay Kumar Teli, Suresh’s uncle, who was in Kathmandu to help with his nephew’s repatriation and recovery, questions how the Malaysian employer could keep hard-working migrants against their will.  “They need to understand that their workers are human beings with personal problems and obligations. Not disposable commodities without emotions,” he says.  <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6ce9c7e80680e096788jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But Suresh is not an isolated case.  “The ban on the recruitment of new foreign workers in Malaysia due to Covid-19 means employers are unwilling to let their workers leave” explains Deepak Dhakal, Labour Counsellor at the Nepal Embassy. “During the pandemic, there have been delays in the issuance of check-out memos which are like exit permits required for a worker to leave the country and many employers use this as an excuse to keep workers back. It doesn’t matter if workers want to return due to personal emergencies or because their contracts finished.” Dhakal adds.  This, in addition to increased workload due to labour shortages, pressure from families back home for financial support and strains in transnational relationships can take a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepals-migrant-workers/">psychological toll on them. </a>“Mental health issues among migrants who face pressure from both the employers and families back home are rampant and need to be systematically addressed,” says Prakash Panthi, Labour Attache at the Nepal Embassy in Malaysia. While responsible employers in Malaysia and elsewhere take care of their workers, this is often not the case. Even in situations when workers need hospital-based medical care, they are kept in hostels with only very basic medication. But the most vulnerable are undocumented migrants, some of whom are brought to the embassy in Kuala Lumpur by Nepali volunteers when their situation has deteriorated without timely attention. Regularisation schemes like the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-in-malaysia-to-gain-from-amnesty/">Malaysian government’s Recalibration Program</a> that allows undocumented workers to change their legal status could benefit undocumented migration, Dhakal notes.  <figure><img width="854" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce6d19c7e80680e096789jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Coordinated rescue effort  Following his fall, Suresh received care in the orthopaedic ward of a Malaysian hospital for his spinal injury and was kept under psychiatric observation before being transferred to a nursing home.  Suresh was scheduled to fly to Kathmandu on 5 February after pressure from hundreds of Nepali employees at the company. But the airline refused to fly him because of his health condition. Says Labour Attache Panthi, “The employer reached out to us to make agitated Nepali employees understand that the delay in Suresh’s repatriation was due to his health condition and not the employer’s apathy.”There was also pressure on the employer to bear all medical costs till Suresh recovered.  His condition subsequently improved and he was deemed fit to fly but either a doctor or a nurse had to accompany him, which was too costly.Eventually, he was approved to fly with a non-medical personnel, a co-worker who was returning to Nepal.In Nepal, Suresh’s father Prabhu had to make five trips to Kathmandu over the last few months. “The agent in Kapilvastu said he could help if I paid him Rs100,000. The recruiter Al Rahim says he is taking the case up with the authorities. That is a lie, he has no clue that my son is already coming home,” Prabhu says.In a desperate plea, Prabhu and his wife appealed to MP Arjun KC to help bring their son home. Says KC, “It was just one case, but the amount of coordination needed was tremendous. We had to directly or indirectly engage with the Foreign Employment Board, the Nepal Embassy, Nepal Airlines and the hospital here for his repatriation and further recovery. One weak link and it would not have happened.”Private airlines were hesitant to accommodate a stretcher but Nepal Airlines agreed. The Nepali mission put pressure on the employer to bear the medical and travel costs. Without financial support from the employer or from the Foreign Employment Board, the only option would have been to rely on personal donations that would have further delayed the repatriation. Among many stories of an uncaring state, there are stories like that of Suresh Teli where different agencies of the state came together, surpassing the expectation of the people who are conditioned to not expect too much from the government.  <figure><img width="540" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce6d49c7e80680e09678ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The long road to recoveryIn many ways Suresh was lucky. He survived the fall when he could have been one of the many coffins that arrive at Kathmandu airport every week. His medical costs in Malaysia and air tickets were borne by the employer. His family recognises these positive aspects and is happy their son is finally coming, but is also cautious of what lies ahead: the long road to recovery, from physical and mental wounds, from unpaid loans and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/wage-theft-of-migrants-during-pandemic/">foregone earnings</a>, and from personal relationships <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/far-from-home-during-a-pandemic/">strained by distance.</a> The Teli family has only a tiny piece of land, and it has to pay Suresh’s medical bills by borrowing from local lenders. Formal support is unlikely to come through. The recently signed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-future-is-older/">Social Security Agreement</a> (SOCSO) between Malaysia and Nepal only applies to work-related injuries, illness, or death. Suresh’s family is hopeful that the Foreign Employment Board will provide injury compensation via the Welfare Fund, but even this is unlikely given uncertainties around his labour permit status as he has been away for three years.  <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce6d69c7e80680e09678bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Arrival The evening of 23 April, Suresh was being pushed in a wheel-chair out of the arrival area at Kathmandu airport and put into an ambulance with the support of the medics and his father. As they waited for the rest of the family to join them before heading to the Trauma Centre, the medic in the ambulance held his hands and asked him questions about his health and the travel. He responded willingly, a marked progress from the initial phase of the injury. When his mother, Urmila Teli finally climbed into the ambulance, Suresh glowed and broke into a wide smile. Despite the discomfort due to his injuries and the support from the Jewett brace, he leaned aside from the stretcher to touch her feet. He was finally home.   <figure><img width="640" height="1055" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce6d99c7e80680e09678cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/crossborder-virus-and-nepali-migrant-workers/">Crossborder virus and Nepali migrant workers,</a> Upasana Khadka

Upasana Khadka

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Mindful of migrants' mental health

<figure><img width="1400" height="894" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f07a9c7e80680e0359d7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>SOFT TARGET: Malaysia-bound migrant workers at a Kathmandu-based GSG facility, where their passports and fingerprints are scanned for Immigration and Security Clearance.</figcaption></figure>A deeply-rooted nexus of politicians, businessmen and bureaucrats in Nepal and Malaysia have looted more than Rs5 billion over the past five years from vulnerable <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepali-migrants-hounded-out-Malaysia-,3036" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali migrant workers desperate to seek work</a> in Malaysia.Nepal’s Labour Minister Gokarna Bista is trying to dismantle those involved in the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/undocumented-Nepali-migrant-workers-in-Malaysia,3958" target="_blank" rel="noopener">exploitation</a> by cracking down on several Kathmandu-based companies set up to extort fees from overseas contract workers. In Malaysia itself, the newly-elected Prime Minister Mahathir Mohammad has also launched an investigation into the previous government’s involvement in profiting from migrant workers.The scam involved powerful Malaysian businesses with close links to ministers and officials in the Barisan Nasional coalition of former Prime Minister Najib Razak and implemented by their agents in Kathmandu who had contacts with influential politicians and bureaucrats in Nepal.Also read: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepali-migrants-too-young-to-die,2811" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Killed in the line of duty</a> , Om Astha Rai<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Doing it the right way</a>, Seulki Lee  <figure><img width="1400" height="896" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f07d9c7e80680e0359d8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It all started five years ago when Malaysia’s Home Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi outsourced a private company (Ultra Kirana Sdn Bhd) which required <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/disproportionate-number-of-deaths-of-Nepali-workers-in-Malaysia,2812" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali migrant</a> workers to apply for work visas through a Kathmandu-based affiliate, Malaysia VLN Nepal. The agency charged Rs3,200 from every Malaysia-bound Nepali worker, and collected Rs 1.95 billion from more than 600,000 workers between September 2013 and April 2018.Then in July 2015, Malaysia made it mandatory for all <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/doubts-on-zero-cost-migration-deal-coming-into-force,2157" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali migrants</a> to undergo a biometric test. The Malaysian government hired Bestinet Sdn Bhd, a tech firm run by Malaysian Home Minister Hamidi’s brother-in-law Amin Bin Abdul Nor, for biometric health screening. Minister Hamidi’s brother Abdul Hakim Hamidi and ex-Malaysian Environment Minister Ajmi Khalid also reportedly owned shares in Bestinet.Bestinet partnered with Nepal Health Professional Federation (NHPF) to carry out biometric screening through 39 medical centres which charged Rs4,500 from each migrant worker for biometrics. Bestinet and NHPF have already collected over Rs1 billion from over 200,000 Nepali workers.Previously, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/death-of-nepali-migrant-workers-in-qatar,1592" target="_blank" rel="noopener">migrant workers</a> could have applied for visas independently or through any <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/manpower-agencies-of-Nepal-are-the-ones-against-zero-cost-migration-policy,2402" target="_blank" rel="noopener">manpower agency</a> . They could get a visa for just Rs700. They could get medical tests from any of 200 government-approved health facilities. But after Malaysia required private companies for visa processing and biometric screening, workers were forced to pay much more.The real scam involved the lack of transparency in Malaysia and in Nepal on the choice of the private companies hired to facilitate this process, which ended up fleecing workers.While in Malaysia the companies were partly-owned by relatives of politicians, in Nepal bureaucrats and politicians benefited from kickbacks for sanctioning the new system. Fees were added on arbitrarily, and all involved in the syndicate in the two countries divided up the profits.For example, the Rs3,200 visa processing fee did not cover all visa-related costs of a migrant worker. In May 2016, Malaysia hired another private company, One Stop Centre (OSC) to collect visa forms and passports and drop them at its embassy in Kathmandu. The OSC chose the same Malaysia VLN Nepal for this job, which added an extra fee of Rs2,800 from each applicant.Bestinet has also been allowed to charge each migrant worker Rs3,200 just for scanning passports, fingerprinting and an additional Rs3,500 to upload the data online. Bestinet’s Kathmandu-based agent, GSG Nepal, scans passports and fingerprints for all Malaysia-bound migrant workers. Bestinet in turn collaborated with labour recruitment agencies in Kathmandu and has so far collected over Rs1.3 billion in fees for passport and fingerprints scanning, and online data entry. <figure><img width="1400" height="1012" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f0809c7e80680e0359d9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tallied together, the Malaysia government and companies backed by powerful Malay politicians have, in total, taken more than Rs5 billion (US$ 450 million) from over 600,000 Nepali workers between September 2013 and April 2018. Nepali politicians, bureaucrats and businesses were directly colluding with their Malaysian counterparts in cheating the workers. There are over 600,000 Nepali workers in Malaysia, and their remittances help sustain Nepal’s economy.The arrangements have been put into place on an ad hoc basis, without transparency and in the absence of any bilateral agreements between the governments of Nepal and Malaysia. Some of the companies managing migration in Nepal do not even have government approval.Nepal’s Labour Ministry was initially reluctant to accept Malaysia’s proposal to introduce biometric systems, arguing it would allow certain medical centres to overcharge migrant workers. But those lobbying for biometrics were so powerful that the ministry had to approve the system as a ‘pilot project’ for six months.But long after the six months were over, Bestinet and the NHPF continued with biometric system with no interference from the government.In January 2015, Parliament’s International Relations and Labour Committee instructed the government to terminate the biometric system. It also directed the government to ask Malaysia to first make biometric test mandatory for migrant workers from all 14 countries that supply labour to Malaysia. It also ordered that biometric tests should be less expensive by ending the monopoly of a handful of selected medical centres. <img width="752" height="519" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f0849c7e80680e0359dajpeg.jpg" alt="">The Parliament committee, however, reversed its decision after its Maoist Chair Prabhu Sah went on a junket to Australia paid for by the Nepal Health Professional Federation in which he was accompanied by NHPF’s Kailash Khadka.In June 2016, a committee led by Joint Secretary Govinda Mani Bhurtel recommended that the government prevent private firms from overcharging Nepali migrants. But Labour Minister Deepak Bohara trashed the report and himself flew to Kuala Lumpur to ‘study the problem’ the following month. He met Malaysian Home Minister Hamidi’s brother Abdul Hakim at the Hotel Oriental Mandarin in Kuala Lumpur. On his return, Bohara took no action against Bestinet.In Malaysia itself, Prime Minister Najib Razak and Home Minister Hamidi were slammed for hiring private companies to do what the Immigration Department should have done. Najib’s party lost the elections in May mainly because of allegations of massive corruption.<a href="http://cijnepal.org.np/0002/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Centre for Investigative Journalism</a>Also read: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/homes-away-from-home/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Homes away from home</a>, Upasana Khadka<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-workers-football/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The workers' football</a>, Upasana Khadka<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/best-years-of-their-lives-migrant-workers,3722" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Best years of their lives</a>, Kunda Dixit <h2>Duped and dumped</h2> Before Malaysia-bound Nepali migrant workers were forced to undergo expensive biometric tests from July 2015, they used to go to for normal health check-ups at any of the 200 health facilities accredited by the Nepal government.But a significant number of workers who got a clean chit of health from Nepali medical centres were found to be ‘unfit’ in tests in Malaysia and immediately deported. Medical centres in Nepal licensed to examine the health of migrant workers were seen to not meet international standards.This was the excuse used to push the biometric system. Those who lobbied for the biometric system had promised Nepali migrant workers that they would not have to undergo another test in Kuala Lumpur if they were declared ‘fit’ in a biometric test in Kathmandu.However, the 100,000 Nepali workers who go to Malaysia every year also have to undergo a separate expensive test conducted by the Foreign Workers Medical Examination Monitoring Agency (FOMEMA).More importantly, the percentage of Nepali migrant workers who pass health tests in Nepal but fail them in Malaysia has also not decreased.Last year, more than 9,000 Nepali migrants were declared ‘unhealthy and unfit’ by the FOMEMA, and were sent home. Saroj Sarki of Chitwan is one of them. He spent more than Rs120,000 to go to Malaysia, passed the health test in Nepal, failed it in Malaysia, and was immediately deported.Sarki filed a complaint against the Nepali recruiting agency, but has not got his money back. The Labour Ministry has received more than 200 complaints filed by those who passed the health test in Nepal but failed the FOMEMA test in Malaysia. No action has been taken against some of the 39 private medical centres chosen by the NHPF which were responsible.Also read: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/As-It-Happens/Nepali-migrants-illegal-Malaysia-,718" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Illegal, ill treated</a>, Om Astha Rai<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stay-home-Nepal-Malaysia-migrants,3037" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying home</a>, Sonia Awale <h2>Hundi men</h2> In May, police arrested 40 businessmen, including Malaysia VLN Nepal Chief Ram Prasad Shrestha, for illegally charging Nepali migrant workers for visa processing, biometric and online data entry.Shrestha, who was later released along with 39 others on bail, told police that he was just an agent responsible for sending fee money collected from migrant workers to Malaysian companies in Kuala Lumpur and Hong Kong. He also informed police that his Kathmandu-based company would get a cut of Rs168 of every Rs3,200 visa processing fee and another Rs420 of every Rs2,800 passport collection fee.Shrestha claimed his company had sought permission from the Nepal Rastra Bank (NRB) to transfer the money to Malaysia and Hong Kong. Police wrote a letter to the NRB to verify Shrestha’s claim. Bhisma Raj Dhungana, Executive Director of the NRB’s Foreign Currency Exchange Department, says: “A company that does not have a permission from the government to collect money cannot exchange currency and transfer it out of Nepal.”There is evidence that the companies used unofficial hundi channels to transfer cash to Malaysian parent companies. Malaysia’s Migrants Management System (MIGRAM) collected more than Rs720 million through Nepali manpower agencies between May 2016 and April 2018 through the illegal hundi system.The International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) has revealed that ex-Malaysian PM Najib Razak’s brother owns an offshore company in the British Virgin Islands which was used to stash ill-gotten wealth. The speculation in Kuala Lumpur is that it includes fees collected from impoverished and desperate Nepali migrant workers, that were illegally sent to Kuala Lumpur.Follow Ups<a href="https://m.malaysiakini.com/news/436743" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali workers' scam: The whos and hows behind it</a><a href="https://newmalaysiatimes.com/2018/07/30/more-companies-behind-nepal-foreign-workers-scandal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">More companies behind Nepal Foreign Workers Scandal</a><a href="https://www.malaymail.com/s/1654729/report-implicates-malaysian-nepali-officials-in-migrant-worker-registration" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Report implicates Malaysian, Nepali officials in migrant worker registration 'scam'</a><a href="https://www.nst.com.my/news/nation/2018/07/393582/bestinet-denies-nepali-times-article-company-milking-nepalis" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Bestinet denies Nepali Times article on the company 'milking Nepalis'</a><a href="http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2018/07/22/report-tells-of-rm185-mil-scam-over-nepali-workers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Report tells of RM185 mil scam over Nepali workers </a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/malaysia-wants-ban-lifted/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Malaysia wants ban lifted</a>

Kleptocrats of Kathmandu and Kuala Lumpur

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Mamata Kumari Yadav was born just before her father passed his high school exam on his second attempt. Which is why Ram Kewal Ray thinks his daughter brings good luck. Mamata is now a government civil servant, and has three sisters and a younger brother. All are doing well in their professions: one is a doctor at the Army Hospital, another has an MSc in Microbiology, and the other is working in Australia after finishing her MPh. Her brother, an engineering student, is in Kathmandu. “It was all because our parents prioritised education that we did so well in life,” says Mamata. Instead of being woken up to do household chores or work on the family farm, they were encouraged to finish their homework first. While Ram showed his daughters the way and encouraged them to study, it was Sanjeev Karn, a primary school teacher at a school near their home, who motivated them to do well. On International Women's Day, the story of Mamata and her sisters is an inspiring account of dedication, hard work and good guidance.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422" data-rendition-name="original" width="873" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Samata, Punam, Kumudini and Mamata, the four accomplished Yadav sisters from Sarlahi</figcaption> </figure>  Boys always came first in class, but that changed when Mamata and her sisters started excelling in their studies. All four sisters consistently ranked first in their classes and became widely known in the community for their performance. “My friend Sanjay Chaudhary was my biggest competition and used to stand second. He is an engineer now. We are still good friends and laugh about how we were rivals,” recalls Mamata. In a school where no girl had previously passed the high school exam with first division, Mamata became the first to do so and set a record that her sisters later followed. Her uncle in Kathmandu called her father Ram Kewal with the news that Mamata had passed in the first division. Overjoyed, her father went to school and bought Fanta for all her teachers in celebration.&nbsp; Mamata went to Chitwan after receiving a scholarship for a health assistant course. Although her school in Sarlahi was Nepali-medium, she was not able to speak the language properly and felt more comfortable using Maithili. In the new environment, she struggled with language and confidence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata in Sarlahi with her siblings and father when she was young</figcaption> </figure>  She was surprised to learn that Maithili is not spoken all over Nepal. The course was demanding, the textbooks were in English, the student community was diverse, and academic expectations were high. But Mamata began building friendships and confidence. Her sisters later joined her in Chitwan. Mamata returned to Sarlahi and began working with an organisation as a counsellor on sexually transmitted infections. It was her first job, and was proud to be able to support her father. Her second job with a non-profit required field visits across Sarlahi district, so she bought her own second-hand scooter.&nbsp; “Some neighbours did not approve that my parents gave me so much freedom, but they did not pay much heed to such warnings or gossip,” she says. Seeking stability she prepared for the civil service exam for auxiliary health worker position and was stationed in Sindhupalchok. When her father came to drop her off, being used to flat land he was a bit nervous about the steep mountains and 90-minute commute on foot. But he was proud to hear her patients call her ‘doctor’. Later, Mamata transferred back to her home district of Sarlahi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata Kumari Yadav</figcaption> </figure>  On a work trip to Kathmandu, on her family's recommendation she met a young man who was pursuing a master’s degree in engineering. Their first meeting was at a cafe in the presence of her brother. She found him simple, gentle, and committed to his studies, qualities that resonated with her own personality.&nbsp; “We got married, and my parents did not have to invest in dowry for me and my sisters because they had invested in us,” recalls Mamata, who then became a health post in-charge in Lalitpur. Following administrative restructuring, she found herself reporting to juniors, which limited her sense of growth. She then decided to prepare for the civil service exams in administration. Coming from a health background, the syllabus was unfamiliar and broad. Her first attempt taken without much preparation was unsuccessful, a first failure ever for Mamata.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Seeing off her sister Samata who studied MPH under the AusAID Scholarship</figcaption> </figure>  By this time, she had a son and the exam took a back seat for two years while managing her health post and raising him. When he turned two, she sent her son to Sarlahi, where her mother Phul Kumari took care of him so she could focus on her studies. This time, she passed. She became the first from her family in a government administrative position. After gaining enough experience, she aims to go back to the Madhes to serve in government positions as an honest bureaucrat. Her parents continue as they always have. Phul Kumari takes care of the household while Ram Kewal runs a pharmacy and tends to the farm back in Sarlahi. &nbsp; “We daughters owe a lot to our parents because our peers were never given the kinds of opportunities we had,” says Mamata. “They were married young and now have adult children. There is nothing girls cannot do if given the right guidance and opportunities.”

The Girl Dad of Nepal

Amidst the euphoria in Nepal about the RSP’s landslide victory, the party’s future government, possibly led by Balendra Shah will plunge headlong into an energy and economic crisis sparked by the war in West Asia. Nepal gets all its diesel, petrol, gas and aviation fuel from India and lacks a strategic stockpile to buffer against shortages. The United States has unsanctioned Russian crude oil to India for one month, but India will only export refined petroleum products to Nepal after meeting its own domestic demand. As it is, India has only 10 days of stockpile of cooking gas and it is giving preference to household use. Energy experts say new oil and gas supplies from Russia and elsewhere will take another month to arrive at Indian ports. “This conflict didn’t develop overnight, yet we did nothing to augment our reserves. Clearly, we didn’t manage procurement anticipating supply disruptions,” says economist Pushkar Bajracharya. The conflict has escalated, seriously disrupting global petroleum supplies. Nearly 20% of the world’s oil and gas moves out of the Strait of Hormuz which is now blocked. The Persian Gulf makes up most of the oil and liquified natural gas supplied to Japan (75%), India (50%) and China (38%). Crude oil prices have nearly doubled to $100 a barrel this week.&nbsp; “This crisis is only going to intensify, so in the short term, it means fuel prices will increase as will the cost of goods and services,” adds Bajracharya. “This doesn’t bode well for the new government, especially when people have such high expectations from it.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1315" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Strait of Hormuz NT"> </figure>  Fuel stoppages from India have happened before, notably during the 2015 Blockade. But Nepal could be better placed this time to cushion the shock because of the proliferation of battery-operated vehicles, and electrification of household cooking to some extent. “The increase in electric vehicles provides some relief, but it is not enough,” says energy economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “Most critical services still run on diesel, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”&nbsp; Nepal’s expanding road network means diesel and petrol consumption is also increasing. If the war drags on, there will be a critical shortage of aviation fuel that could also hurt tourism at the start of the trekking and mountaineering season. There is already a nationwide shortage of cooking gas which is used by 62% of Nepali households. &nbsp; The fuel crisis will have a knock-on effect on the economy which the RSP government will have to tackle on an emergency footing as soon as it comes into office. The priority would be to cap fuel prices with subsidies, control hoarding, and in the longer term expedite the switch to electricity for transportation and cooking.&nbsp; MONEY IN The other impact will be on jobs in West Asia and remittances. Nearly half the $11 billion a year Nepalis send home every year comes from West Asian countries. Nepal’s hard currency reserves have hit a record high $21.09 billion, but that cash will be of no use if there is no fuel to buy. A sharp drop in remittances due to the collapse of the economies of the Gulf states if the war is prolonged will have a multiplier impact particularly on Nepalis' household expenses and the country’s economy in general. This in turn will have a knock-on effect on investment, and affect the RSP government’s main agenda which is to create jobs at home. The vicious cycle will then mean that more Nepalis will want to migrate for overseas jobs, but options in the Gulf may not be available. The RSP’s ministers in government will have to come up with innovative ways to re-integrate Nepalis forced to return because they lose their jobs, or for safety reasons. There are nearly 2 million Nepalis across the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and another 7,000 mainly women caregivers in Israel. “Other than the impact on remittances and the economy, there could be the additional challenge of rescuing over 2 million Nepalis in West Asia if it comes to that,” says Bajracharya. “We don’t have the resources, and we will have to rely on India’s logistical help.” The RSP’s main vote bank was among global Nepalis, who could not cast &nbsp;ballots themselves but influenced families and friends back home to choose the party. Social media was abuzz with slogans that promoted how choosing the RSP would bring their children back home from the Gulf. “The RSP got a majority, and that’s a good thing but voters came together to oppose UML, NC and the Maoists. But there is no clear ideology or philosophy, so while their slogan to bring Nepalis back from the Gulf sounds nice, what would they come back to?” asks Gyawali. The Nepali diaspora in the Gulf that influenced the electorate so effectively will now be looking at how the government it helped get to power in Kathmandu will help as war engulfs the region.&nbsp; There is an almost unrealistically high expectation of the RSP, and the party may not even get the customary 100-day honeymoon period. The cabinet could be put together easily enough, but the bureaucracy, judiciary, police, and the Upper House are all populated by loyalists of the old parties. Despite bad blood, the RSP will have to work together with all parties in the face of the crisis unleashed by the war. And Nepal’s politicised foreign policy must be galvanised to deal with the crisis.

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RSP’s activist DNA

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

The Girl Dad of Nepal

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers