<figure><img width="1570" height="940" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2179c7e80680e083e89jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Charikot Hospital in 2015 after it was upgraded from a primary health care centre by Nyaya Health Nepal. Photo: Nyaya Health Nepal. </figcaption></figure>In one of the few arrangements of its kind in Nepal, a public-private partnership initiative has handed over to the local government the management of Charikot Hospital which had been run by a private non-profit organisation <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/building-back-better-health-facilities,2980" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/building-back-better-health-facilities,2980&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1606125430794000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0J3sDGN8guCJPn5fY-UA5M">ever since the earthquake five years ago</a>. Bhimeswar Municipality took over the hospital from the group Nyaya Health Nepal on 30 October in an innovative and successful DBOT (Design, Build, Operate, Transition) model which is significant in Nepal’s new federal structure where local governments take on more responsibility for grassroots healthcare delivery.This is especially remarkable considering that improving public sector healthcare, especially in rural areas, has been a challenge in Nepal. The country’s already under-resourced healthcare is also under strain because of the Covid-19 pandemic. Nyaya Health signed an agreement with the Ministry of Health in 2015 to rebuild the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earthquake-survivors-waiting-to-rebuild,2566" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earthquake-survivors-waiting-to-rebuild,2566&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1606125430794000&amp;usg=AOvVaw19bLuxfgcmw9SWnbrzetxq">damaged healthcare facilities</a> in Dolakha and upgrade the primary healthcare centre in Charikot into a full-fledged hospital. The organisation was building on its experience in Achham where it manages <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1606125430794000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1qCyHqyny7Q3qtyJjYIfZS">Bayalpata Hospital</a> under a similar partnership model since 2009. Although there are other similar activities in Nepal’s public health sector, especially in the distribution of healthcare products, there are only a handful examples of partnerships that are for overall management of health institutions. The government's readiness to adopt innovations that have been put in place through the partnership is unique, and unprecedented. <figure><img width="1500" height="805" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be21a9c7e80680e083e8ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>The transfer of management has been smooth -- Bhimeswar Municipality has retained 40 hospital employees recruited by Nyaya Health, and will continue the internal management procedures, monitoring of quality service, and a digital health information system.In the past five years, Nyaya Health provided more than 335,000 people in Dolakha with direct free health care, repaired 19 earthquake damaged health posts, and handed them over to the local government ensuring the delivery of health services. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be21c9c7e80680e083e8bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The handover ceremony of the Charikot Hospital on 30 October to the Bhimeswar Municpality by Nyaya Health Nepal after a unique private-public partnership project. All Photos: NHN</figcaption></figure>The hospital also saw the introduction of digital patient records, development of a performance based system for staff, training and development, expansion of community health and mental health services, addition of infrastructure, equipment and services, and for the past eight months has been at the forefront of an effective Covid-19 response.As a result, Dolakha’s overall health indicators such as the rate for institutional delivery, neonatal mortality and other parameters have seen marked improvements in the catchment area population in the past five years. <figure><img width="799" height="533" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be21f9c7e80680e083e8cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1086" height="724" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2229c7e80680e083e8djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Patients in the maternity ward of the Charikot Hospital of Dolakha District where the mother child survival rate has improved in the past five years.What was unique was that the Government of Nepal and Nyaya Health Nepal both invested in strengthening healthcare during the partnership period – the government with a community hospital grant, medicine and equipment, human resources and Nyaya Health put in $6.8 million and managed treatment and care in the hospital.Recently, the Bagmati Province government declared Charikot Hospital a ‘provincial hospital’ and this paved the way for additional local investment from the continuity of ongoing services. Under Nepal’s federal structure, every municipality is allotted a budget specifically to improve the local health system. This has increased access to health care, and raised the health status of the local population. Dolakha’s health care system thus literally ‘built back better’ after the earthquake.Under the terms of the handover, Nyaya Health Nepal transferred to Bhimeswar Municipality all fixed assets and consumables worth Rs62.67 million, its digital systems, and the ownership of all data collected for service management and quality improvement.Even after the handover, Nyaya Health Nepal will continue back stopping the Municipality in some areas like technical assistance in managing the Electronic Health Record (EHR), monitoring and evaluation, and service improvement till the end of this fiscal year. Nyaya Health, in turn can use data from the hospital for research, including for ongoing projects.Specialist services with consultants have also been arranged keeping in view the needs of the patients. The federal or provincial governments need to manage the necessary Rs2.5 million per month for specialist care, which are beyond the coverage of basic health services.The municipality has set up an inter-municipal fund to ensure access to care, particularly for the underprivileged at Charikot Hospital, which is providing services also as a referral hospital for the surrounding municipalities and districts.This handover proves that strengthening healthcare is possible only through a multi-dimensional partnership with short-term support, innovation in healthcare delivery and management, long-term planning and resource management. Ultimately, it is the government’s responsibility to ensure healthcare for all, and partnerships like these are useful to jump-start the process. Nepal has established itself as a modern progressive and welfare state, with the Constitution pledging to make basic healthcare a fundamental right of all citizens. In Dolakha, we took a path of a partnership between the government and a non-government entity to lay the foundation of accessible healthcare for all. The central and local governments have now taken the lead for its continuation. We hope that this will be an example for other municipalities and provincial governments that are trying to strengthen health services, and are seeking a model to follow. <img width="122" height="150" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2259c7e80680e083e8ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="122" height="150" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2269c7e80680e083e8fjpeg.jpg" alt="">Bharat Bahadur KC is the Mayor of Bhimeswar Municipality and SP Kalaunee is Executive Director of Nyaya Health Nepal. <a href="mailto:spkalaunee@gmail.com">spkalaunee@gmail.com</a>

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Unique hospital handover in Dolakha

<figure><img width="3510" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151116/636a651f9c7e80680e059913jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/state-of-the-art-rural-hospital/">Bayalpata Hospital</a> has won an international award in the Health Category at the World Architecture Festival held in Amsterdam on Thursday.The hospital in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17650#.Xens94Mza72">Nepal’s Achham district</a> is a public-private partnership between the group Nyaya Health and the Nepal government, and is built almost entirely using rammed earth technology using locally available material with an ambitious zero carbon construction.‘This is an example of when architecture provides more than a building. Although modest in scale and architectural expression is delivers a massive leap in healthcare provision in a region with scarce resources,’ jury members of the Global Architecture Festival said in their citation. ‘A great example of an architect listening closely and responding intelligently to site and situation. The building is rooted in its site through its use of onsite materials and has impeccable zero carbon design credentials.’ <img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151116/636a65229c7e80680e059914jpeg.jpg" alt="">Bayalpata was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17650#.XensoYMza71">started by visionary Nepali and American public health experts in 2009</a>, and took over a defunct government hospital to show that accessible and free medical care was possible in a rural Nepal district that had the highest maternal and child mortality and lowest lifespan.Today, the hospital <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/upgrading-health-care-through-public-private-partnership-model,582">treats 100,000 patients a year</a> from Achham and six surrounding mountain districts. Paid for mostly by crowd-funding, the $4 million three-phase expansion of Bayalpata Hospital with its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/starting-nepals-green-school-movement/">state-of-the-art architecture</a> was completed earlier this year.“Our specs were to use local materials as much as possible, keep energy costs low, and respect the local context,” explains Arun Rimal, a Nepali architect with the US-based Office of Structural Design (OSD). “The rammed earth uses local clay and sand from the river. The thick walls give thermal mass for insulation, and the skylights optimise sunlight and ventilation.”  <img width="4416" height="3312" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151116/636a65279c7e80680e059915jpeg.jpg" alt="">The reliance on local material turned out to be a huge advantage because the project faced unforeseen logistical problems due to the 2015 earthquake and Blockade. However, the four-year construction was delayed by just six months because it did not rely too much on bricks, steel and other imported material. The facility has a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5877#.XWZGkOMzaUk">rainwater harvesting system</a>, treats its wastewater and has a network of greywater-irrigated terraces and bioswales to control erosion and recharge the acquifer. A 100kw solar array on the roof meets most of the hospital’s electricity needs, even powering the facility’s only air conditioning unit in the surgical ward. “It was a deliberate design decision to work with the natural environment as much as possible and also to address the cultural context,” says Tyler Survant from Sharon Davis Design in New York, which also conceptualised the unique Women’s Opportunity Centre in Rwanda. “We had to plan for a different kind of hospital from the West: here you have patients and relatives who have travelled for days on foot to get here.” <img width="640" height="828" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151116/636a652b9c7e80680e059916jpeg.jpg" alt="">Bayalpata has public outdoor spaces and canopied courtyards to serve as comfortable waiting areas, while the operating theatres and wards are recessed. Unlike in the US, staff housing also had to be integrated into the facility since it has fulltime resident doctors, who live with their families.

Bayalpata Hospital in Nepal wins global design award

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141144/6365179b9c7e80680e02c286jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="905"/><figcaption>IN GOOD HANDS: Community Health Worker Bhajan Kunwar checks patient Namsara Tamrakar at her home in Chandika village of Achham. Pics: Marty Logan and Srawan Shrestha</figcaption></figure>Rounding a steep curve on the road to the district capital of Mangalsen a startling set of modular structures comes into view. The modern buildings look out of place in this scenic, but underserved, region of western Nepal.The construction is part of a $4 million expansion of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17650#.WreWXNRua70">Bayalpata Hospital</a>, a unique medical facility that is a model for public-private partnership to improve medical care in Nepal’s remote interior.Inside the ward, orthopaedic surgeon Mandeep Pathak is examining an elderly man with a swollen knee. Clearly visible on an x-ray monitor is a short pin inserted by a general practitioner a few weeks ago, after the patient fell and broke his kneecap.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuWvlDGasEAIn the same room with the surgeon today is Community Medical Assistant (CMA) Khagendra Pant, who is wrapping plaster around the arm of a small boy. Thanks to training at the hospital, Pant was able to diagnose the boy’s injury as a clean fracture that did not require an operation.Such training means Bayalpata now has to refer just 10-20% of orthopaedic cases to hospitals in Dhangadi and Nepalganj, compared to nearly 70% two years ago.“I am proud to say that all the basic trauma care can now be done by general practitioners. Plus they can diagnose cases and decide which need to be referred to outside centres,” says Pathak.Training is integral to Bayalpata’s mission, says Director of Medical Education <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/Saving-one-mother-at-a-time,816">Bikash Gauchan</a>: his hospital has continuing medical education for clinicians, and on the job training for future nurses and other staff. General practitioners from various centres learn rural surgery at Bayalpata while mid-level staff come to improve their clinical knowledge.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141144/6365179e9c7e80680e02c287jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="650"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>For some <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/aim-for-fewer-patients-in-achham-possible-hospital,2022">patients who travel many days</a> to reach Bayalpata, access to basic surgery here means avoiding an expensive trip to the city. People whose limbs were fractured as long as three years ago delayed treatment until surgery was available at the hospital because they couldn’t afford the trip to a city hospital.Treatment at Bayalpata and at another hospital in Dolakha run by the non-profit Possible, is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-free-for-all-healthcare,491#.UbrA4ueLA1s">free</a>. The group believes healthcare is a fundamental human right protected by Nepal’s Constitution, and should have no cost at point of delivery.Possible is funded by donations and Nepal government grants, which will grow as its hospitals attain clinical targets, such as the percentage of women who give birth in a facility with a trained clinician. Operating expenses last year were $4.8 million, of which 9% came from the government.Arrivals are registered in the hospital’s Electronic Health Record (EHR), which puts patients’ information at the fingertips of clinicians throughout the hospital, and eliminates bulky paper records.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141144/636517a19c7e80680e02c288jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="823"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One patient already on the EHR is Namsara Tamrakar. Sitting cross-legged on a raised, wooden platform outside her home in Chandika village (left), the elderly woman shows visiting hospital staff that she knows how to use her inhaler, but it is empty.Three years ago, a doctor at Bayalpata diagnosed her with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and prescribed medicine via inhaler. Now Community Health Worker Bhajan Kunwar (see box, left) visits regularly to follow up. Like others, Tamrakar’s house has a small blue metal tag on an outside wall with a unique household ID. The houses are also geo-tagged.Kunwar’s visit is guided by CommCare, a software developed by Dimagi and customised by Possible that includes counselling information and checklists for each patient. Plans are to integrate CommCare with the EHR so that field followups are immediately reflected in the hospital’s system. Eventually, Bayalpata’s EHR will be linked to a national data system.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141144/636517a49c7e80680e02c289jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1024"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kunwar takes Tamrakar’s blood pressure: 120 by 80. The woman is happy to hear the news and to see Kunwar again: “She comes, does a check-up, and tells me what sickness I have, and if it is getting better or worse. She insists I go to Bayalpata for a follow-up.”The hospital's <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-Crowdfund-globally-act-locally,490">community health program</a> focuses on maternal and child health as well as non-communicable diseases such as hypertension, diabetes and respiratory ailments. Possible employs 56 community health workers looking after more than 80,000 people in Achham and Dolakha. It is planning to more than quadruple that number next year.Bayalpata Hospital started in 2009, when the group <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Crowding-it-out,1003">Nyaya Health</a> (now Possible) took over an abandoned government facility. Then it had five beds and treated up to 12,000 patients a year. Last year, Possible saw 86,000 patients at Bayalpata: the goal is to treat 150,000 people annually after the new wards, emergency room, administration building, a dormitory and remaining small houses for on-call staff are added.“Our integrated, hospital-to-home approach will be a model for Nepal, and beyond,” explains Gauchan, “and we will be proving that in a resource-limited setting, health care expansion, providing universal health coverage to people is possible.”But is the Bayalpata model really replicable? Skeptics say that two hospitals could have been built for the cost of the new buildings, which feature rammed earth technology, solar energy and rainwater collection, and that only substantial donor support made the expansion possible.Gauchan admits that the initial investment may seem high but says it will be more cost-effective in the long run.He adds: “The existing infrastructure for rural health care is way less than the minimum needed to address the emerging burden of non-communicable diseases and road accidents as well as infectious diseases. That is why we are investing in a very robust infrastructure.”<h2>Community spirit</h2>In 2011, Bhajan Kunwar (pictured above) was living an “Ok” life with her husband Purna and children in Bhageswor village of Achham when her sister-in-law Shavitra asked for a favour.Shavitra had been hearing rumours that her husband, who was working in India, was having an affair or had even remarried. Would Purna take her to India to find out? Purna agreed, and brother and sister set off with a friend. En route, Purna received a phone call from Shavitra’s husband warning them not to come, or there would be trouble.They continued anyway, and after crossing the border got on a train. That night, a group of men, perhaps including police, boarded the train and took Purna away. He later called Shavitra’s husband to say he had been kidnapped and would be killed unless help came quickly.Police found Purna’s body the next morning, on the roadside in Ahmednagar, east of Mumbai. It looked like he had been run over, but Bhajan believes he was murdered.Widowed at 25 and with two small children, Bhajan spent the mourning period worrying about how she would afford to send the children to school, and if her mother-in-law and community would accept her becoming the breadwinner for her husband’s four younger brothers and sisters and their families. (Her father-in-law had died earlier).That month, Bayalpata Hospital had a vacancy for a community health worker for the area. Bhajan was hired and six years later, still visits on foot the more than 700 households in her catchment area, checking that patients are taking their medicines, and much more (see main article).“This hospital made me strong,” she tells us. "Before I didn’t know anyone in my village and I didn’t know so many things.” Now with a college certificate, Bhajan advises young women to get educated before they get married. “I tell them ‘if I can do it, you can do it too’. I believe in myself and don’t care what others say about me. If you are true and honest, no harm will come to you.”Bhajan says she will never forget her husband. “But I have to live for my children, and control my mind and my heart. If I am strong, they can have a regular life. The hospital is now my husband, I cannot imagine leaving it.”Marty Logan in Achham<h2>Operating remotely</h2>When nine-year-old Samir Tamang was bitten by a dog on his way to school in Rayale village of Kavre last week, he had to take a two-and-a-half hour long bus ride to Kathmandu with his grandfather Suk Bahadur Tamang, for a rabies vaccination at Teku Hospital.Samir missed school and his grandfather, who works as a driver in Kathmandu, had to ask for leave from his employers.“We are relatively close to the capital, but imagine what it must be like for people living in remote parts of Nepal where there are no roads,” says Suk Bahadur.Indeed, despite the spread of basic health care in Nepal, emergency treatment and procedures like mending broken bones or caesarean sections are not yet available in rural areas. This means families have to sell property or borrow from moneylenders to be able to afford treatment in the cities. Studies have shown that many Nepali families are driven to poverty if relatives are referred to private hospitals.Unmet surgical needs in remote districts remain a major public health issue in Nepal, according to a recent study in 39 remote area hospitals commissioned by the Nick Simons Institute (NSI).One day this week, an informal survey of patients at the government-run Bir and Teaching Hospitals in Kathmandu showed that a majority of the patients were from remote districts, some as far away as Piuthan and Jajarkot.The NSI study shows that except for caesarean sections in Dolakha, Lamjung and Panchthar, very few government hospitals elsewhere were able to do simple operations of the abdominal cavity, or even mend broken bones.Nepal’s surgery rate falls well below the Lancet Commission target of 5,000 operations per 100,000 population. If the goal is to have a surgical facility within two-hour travel distance for patients, at present only a third of the population can reach an orthopaedic surgeon, and only 22% have access to abdominal surgery.However, the survey reaffirms that the presence of a medical general practitioner (MDGPs who can perform caesarean sections and other relatively simple surgical procedures) can change this. District hospitals with resident MDGPs can eliminate the need for patients to make expensive and extended trips to the cities for treatment.The minimum personnel at a district hospital should include an MDGP, obstretrics doctor, anaesthesia assistant, staff nurse and biomedical technician. However, Nepal’s density of hospitals with such staffing is very low (0.4-3.1 per 100,000) as against the Lancet Commission target of 20 per 100,000 population.“In the long run we need specialists but placing three of them in each district hospital will take a long time. For the next 5-10 years, MDGPs will be the answer to solve surgical problems throughout the country,” explains Anil Shrestha, NSI’s Executive Director.The study recommends an MDGP-led generalist surgical team with proper staff, drugs and equipment to upgrade emergency surgical care in all district hospitals.Adds Shrestha: “The government has to strengthen strategically located district hospitals and make them functional to take care of surgical needs throughout the year. It is entirely possible to do.”Sonia Awale in KavreRead also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health/">Poor health</a>, Editorial <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17650#.Wrydky5ubIV">Resurrection Accham</a>,  Paavan Mathema<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/aim-for-fewer-patients-in-achham-possible-hospital,2022">Boy walked eight days to treat broken arm</a>,  Tsering Dolker Gurung<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-free-for-all-healthcare,491#.UbrA4ueLA1s">Free-for-all health</a>,  Duncan Maru and Roshan Bista

Marty Logan

State of the art rural hospital

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.