<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/toxic-tihar">Stubble burning in northern India and Pakistan</a> darkens the sky over the region every year in October. We cannot wait for next October to try to fix the problem — planning to resolve the problem should begin now.&nbsp;
Farmers even in the Nepal Tarai have <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/going-up-in-smoke">started burning wheat harvest residue</a> because of the shortage of farm hands, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/smoke-screen">this April the haze combined with wildfire smoke</a> made people sick, blocked off mountain views forced flight cancellations.
Apart from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/breathing-can-kill-you">Kathmandu Valley’s vehicular emissions</a>, transboundary smoke blown in by prevailing winds from India accounts for much of the pollution in the country.
“The westerly wind cannot cross over the high Himalaya, and remains trapped on the southern side in Nepal, Bangladesh and India,” explains R L Verma, a transboundary air pollution expert at the Asian Institute of Technology (AIT) in Bangkok. "The pollution cannot disperse and is especially bad during winter due to inversion where it mixes with the fog.”&nbsp;
Prabhakar Shrestha, a research scientist at Bonn University, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-transboundary-haze-affects-nepal">wrote in Nepali Times in 2021</a> that the long-term average of winter Aerosol Optical Depth (AOD) from December-February over the last 20 years in the region shows that winter haze extends throughout the Indo-Gangetic plains, with higher readings for eastern Bihar, West Bengal and Bangladesh, adjoining the Nepal Tarai.
"This alarming increase in winter AOD is due to an increase in crop-residue burning, rapid urbanisation, and industrialisation in the Indo-Gangetic belt," he stated.
There are now modelling studies that can trace emissions to their source which allow atmospheric scientists to pinpoint how much of certain particulate matter is coming from within Nepal, or from across the border. These models can also be used to predict future concentrations.
“Increasingly <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mW7YmSSnes">we now have more and more pollution data</a> which has empowered people to demand,” added Verma, who was in Kathmandu recently to train researchers here on air quality monitoring, forecasting and developing an emissions inventory.
In the 1990s, air pollution levels in China were much worse than in India, but Beijing systematically improved AQI levels. A similar clean up campaign in northern India would have downwind benefits for Nepal as well.
The <a href="http://www.sacep.org/pdf/Declarations/05.Male-Declaration-on-Control-and-Prevention-of-Air-Pollution-and-its-Transboundary-Effects-for-South-Asia.pdf">Malé Declaration on Control and Prevention of Air Pollution and Its Likely Transboundary Effects for South Asia</a>, signed between Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Iran, Maldives, Nepal, Pakistan and Sri Lanka in 1998 set a precedent for regional cooperation for transboundary problems.
For the last 25 years, the group has supported national governments in policy formulation and strengthening regional cooperation as well as establishing monitoring networks. But the fact that air pollution levels in the region have got much worse means that the Malé Declaration has failed to meet its lofty goals.&nbsp;
There are now plans to revive regional cooperation in transboundary pollution control, but most policy changes have to be made and implemented within national and sub-national jurisdictions. For example, in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/toxic-tihar">October 2023 crop residue burning was much reduced in the Indian state of Haryana</a> because of strict policy, but it increased in Punjab because of laxer controls (photo, above).
All this soot is blown up to the mountains, where it <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dirty-snow-defrosts-nepal-s-mountains">accelerates the melting of glaciers</a> which are already shrinking due to global warming. The ‘black carbon’ particles are deposited on the ice and snow, making them melt faster.&nbsp;
<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19368">Black carbon</a> is also a short-lived climate pollutant along with methane, hydrofluorocarbons and tropospheric ozone which are responsible for up to 45% of current global warming.&nbsp;
They are expected to account for half the warming effect in the coming decades if emissions are not reduced, but because of their shorter shelf life, reducing them is a low-hanging fruit that also has public health benefits.&nbsp;
Two factors affect air quality: emissions and seasonal weather. We cannot control weather, but can reduce emissions by switching to cleaner alternative fuels such as hydroelectricity, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-bullshit">Compressed Natural Gas</a> (CNG) and solar power. Similarly, farmers need incentives to adopt alternatives to open burning after harvests.
“Every scientific problem has a political solution. We need to involve the government in finding solutions,” says Verma. “Air pollution can be controlled, it just needs political will to work regionally.”&nbsp;

Sonia Awale

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The politics of pollution

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637202fc9c7e80680e0b27e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1366"/><figcaption>Vehicles are one of the biggest emitters of PM2.5 and other pollutants in Kathmandu. Photos: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>It is that time of the year again when smog makes <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu’s air hazardous to health</a>. Hospitals are swamped not with Covid, but COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease).Once more, there is a flurry of media headlines about the dangerous concentration of suspended particles smaller than 2.5 microns from diesel exhaust.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/happy-new-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Happy New Air</a>, Sonia AwalePublic awareness about air pollution is at an all-time high, the average life expectancy of Kathmandu’s residents is reduced by at least four years. Yet, nothing happens. Why?“The awareness and knowledge have not translated into corrective action,” explains environmentalist Bhushan Tuladhar. “We know about vehicle emission tests but we ignore it, open burning is bad but we don’t stop, we have the opportunity to reduce air pollution with electric mass transport but we don’t invest in it.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203009c7e80680e0b27e4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Air pollution was directly linked to at least 42,100 deaths in Nepal in 2019. Almost half of that was due to breathing in particles smaller than 2.5 microns in diameter which can cross the air blood barrier in the lung capillaries. Most of those particles come from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/green-sticker-green-light-to-pollute/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">vehicle emission</a>.From 1990 to 2015, the number of vehicless in Nepal grew by 1,995,404 — most of them in Kathmandu Valley. In five years, that figure doubled to 3,987,267.This figure doesn’t include the exploding demand for cars and motorcycles after the end of the Covid second wave in mid-2021. Nepal spent Rs543 billion in importing vehicles, transport equipment and spare parts in four months from mid-July to mid-October, against Rs357 billion and Rs418 billion for the same periods in 2020 and 2019.“There has been an unexpectedly high demand for private vehicles in Nepal after the pandemic, especially two wheelers given the public’s hesitancy to use buses due to coronavirus fears,” says Dhruba Thapa of the National Automotive Dealers Association.<iframe style="border: none;" title="Total vehicles in Nepal" src="https://e.infogram.com/e0cdbfd0-0b3c-4f57-851e-7aced6e69116?src=embed" width="700" height="700" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe><a style="color: #989898!important; text-decoration: none!important;" href="https://infogram.com/e0cdbfd0-0b3c-4f57-851e-7aced6e69116" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Total vehicles in Nepal</a><a style="color: #989898!important; text-decoration: none!important;" href="https://infogram.com" target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer">Infogram</a>Raju Chettri, CEO of the MAW Enterprises that imports Yamaha bikes in Nepal has a similar observation. He saw a decline in the annual sales of two wheelers from about 250,000 units to 190,000 right after the pandemic. But this year, the sales went up to 350,000 units.“There are two reasons behind this: pent-up demand and reduced use of public transport because of Covid fears,” Chettri says.There are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/poisoning-the-air-we-breathe/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">more than 3.1 million two-wheeers in Nepal</a>, over one million of them in Kathmandu. They are adding to the capital’s foul air, as they are up to 10 times more polluting per passenger kilometre than buses and cars.<iframe style="border: none;" title="Total Motorbikes in Nepal" src="https://e.infogram.com/ea449cd7-2598-4cd4-8ae2-cd91858f9553?src=embed" width="700" height="700" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe><a style="color: #989898!important; text-decoration: none!important;" href="https://infogram.com/ea449cd7-2598-4cd4-8ae2-cd91858f9553" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Total Motorbikes in Nepal</a><a style="color: #989898!important; text-decoration: none!important;" href="https://infogram.com" target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer">Infogram</a>Two-wheelers also emit invisible toxic gases like carbon monoxide, benzene and nitrous oxides, and increase the concentration of street-level ozone. Motorcycle exhaust may not be as visible as diesel exhaust, but they are highly poisonous — especially when there are so many of them. Besides exacerbating respiratory diseases, the gases are carcinogenic, causing cardiovascular diseases and Alzheimer’s.The solution is to shift rapidly to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-electric-transport-future-is-here/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">cleaner electric vehicles</a>, not just for healthier air but also to meet Nepal’s net-zero pledge in Glasgow and to reduce the country’s burgeoning petroleum import bill.“The priority has to be on electric public transport and supporting infrastructure,” says environmentalist Tuladhar. “Electric buses are more expensive than diesel ones, so the government has to help with capital, and better manage Kathmandu’s public transport.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203039c7e80680e0b27e5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This week, Nepal opened its first electric charging station powered by solar panels for the Lumbini Development Trust. Similar charging stations can be set up for public and private vehicles in existing bus parks across Nepal and along highways. Sajha Yatayat which is procuring 40 electric buses is also trying to turn the former trolley bus terminal into a charging station.Shilshila Acharya of the Avni Center for Sustainability agrees that the priority should be on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/from-a-fossil-past-to-an-electric-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">electrifying public transport</a> and encouraging bicycle lanes. She says, “Replacing cars with more cars even if electric only promotes consumerism. We have to give people reliable alternatives.”Kathmandu Valley Air Quality Management Action Plan held its first implementation committee meeting this week, during which it discussed lunching of a USAID-funded project for air pollution and a forecasting system with technical support from ICIMOD.“The problem of air pollution will take some time to be solved but we have started our homework,” says Indu Joshi of the Department of Environment. “At the moment, our biggest challenge is controlling open burning.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203069c7e80680e0b27e6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="2625"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Apart from transport, garbage burning and biomass fuel for household heating and cooking are also contributors to Kathmandu’s dirty air. The problem is made worse in winter due to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-weather-elevates-air-pollution-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Valley’s topography that traps surface pollution</a> in an inversion layer.Improper <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/a-load-of-rubbish-kathmandus-garbage-problem,4039" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">solid waste management in Kathmandu</a> means locals burn garbage by the riverbanks near residential areas — while, as studies show, segregation of waste at homes can reduce the city’s garbage volume by up to 80%.There is no other problem that is so directly linked with the health and economy of the country as urban air pollution. The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-lockdown-proves-air-quality-can-be-improved/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Covid-19 lockdown in 2020</a> is proof that Kathmandu can be cleaned up, it just needs <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dirty-politics-dirty-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the right leadership and the political will</a> to back it up.Says Shilashila Acharya: “Our policies on mobility and air pollution have to be people- and culture-centric, instead of focusing only on technology. We must build public pressure to force the politicians into action.”A public opinion poll in this paper just before the 2017 elections showed that a majority of Nepalis were concerned about the health impact of pollution. Since 2022 will be dominated by campaigning for the next election, this could be turned into the main criteria for candidates to win votes.

Breathing can kill you

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f909c7e80680e0af470jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="2625"/><figcaption>Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>On Thursday morning, Nepali Times photographer Amit Machamasi was greeted with a shocking sight when he drove up to Nagarkot to take pictures of overnight snowfall. Below him, dozens of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2498#.Yc5xVy2B2t8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">brick kilns</a> were spewing out smoke and steam into the city’s air (photo).The rain had washed down suspended particles, but the brick kilns were pumping more smoke into the air we breathe. There have been attempts to relocate brick kilns away from the densely-populated capital, but political patronage means owners are still fouling the air.After the 2015 earthquake damaged most of the Valley’s brick factories, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/brick-factories-still-using-old-polluting-technology,2078" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">some adopted cleaner technology</a> to reduce emissions. Public pressure and urban growth then pushed most brick factories to the city’s fringes, and they are now  concentrated around Bhaktapur – most of those in the photograph are traditional dirty chimneys.After two years of forced closure during the pandemic, the brick kilns are once more working overtime to fill a backlog of demand from builders. But with politicians bogged down in power struggles, local leaders are too distracted to address the pandemic and pollution crises – both of which affect the human respiratory system.In a public opinion poll in this newspaper just before the 2017 elections, most respondents said <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dirty-politics-dirty-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">air pollution</a> topped their list of concerns. Pollution has gotten worse since then, but it is unlikely that dirty air will figure in election speeches in 2022.“We have cleaner options like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earth-bricks-for-cleaner-and-healthier-kathmandu,4161" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">interlocking earth bricks</a>, so we just need public pressure to make it an election issue,” says environmentalist Bhushan Tuladhar.A pre-pandemic research showed that 40% of suspended particulates in Kathmandu’s air was from brick kilns, 30% from vehicular emissions, and 20% from open burning of trash and biomass. With the exponential increase in cars and motorcycles, the concentration of vehicular pollution at street level is now 70%.“<a style="letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/breathing-is-hazardous-to-health/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Hazardous pollution levels</a> in winter have become the norm, yet the government is not doing much to control it,” says Shilshila Acharya of the Avni Centre for Sustainability. “The public should demand action from our leaders.”Although public awareness about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-weather-elevates-air-pollution-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">air pollution</a> is at an all time high, it has not translated into action by municipalities or the federal government – even though in a democracy elections would be the way to force accountability from public officials.Says Tuladhar: “Campaigning in 2022 for elections, particularly for local government, will give us a platform to build political will to reduce air pollution. People have to be outraged, and the good news is that we have some young and educated leaders taking the lead.”In 2019, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-is-going-up-in-smoke/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">air pollution</a> resulted in the deaths of 42,100 Nepalis, according to one research. Many more were indirectly affected. Vehicular emission, garbage and agricultural residue burning and brick kilns were the main sources of toxic ambient air.Besides shifting to cleaner and greener brick-making technology, controlling garbage burning, and a rapid transition to electric vehicles with government investment in electric mass transit, would be steps that would quickly improve air quality in Kathmandu.Air pollution is leading to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/double-whammy-air-pollution-and-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">premature death of Kathmandu’s citizens</a>. It has a huge impact on the economy. The solution is political, and elected officials need to respond to the crisis.Adds Shilshila Acharya: “Politicians as always are big on promises but we demand that they first protect our health by cleaning up the air we breathe. It is a basic right guaranteed by the Constitution. Don't talk about more grandiose plans, just clean up our air first.”

Happy New Air

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

Saving the Kusunda language from extinction

Turkish Airlines has been presented with the Sustainable Financing Pioneer Award by Ishka, recognising its landmark transaction that, for the first time, integrated a sustainability-linked loan structure into a multi-currency JOLCO financing model for the acquisition of two next-generation, fuel-efficient Airbus A321neo aircraft. This innovative transaction, arranged by Societe Generale, links the financing terms to Turkish Airlines’ Sustainability Performance Targets (SPTs), particularly the goal of reducing carbon intensity across its fleet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;“We believe this structure not only supports our fleet renewal and growth objectives, but also reinforces our long-term commitment to becoming a carbon-neutral airline by 2050,” said Chief Financial Officer Murat Şeker.