Nearly 750,000 Nepalis went abroad for employment in the past year. Another 112,000 left initially on student visas, many of them also to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">work and emigrate</a>. These figures do not include those who went to India or left through unofficial channels. Back of the envelope, it would mean at least 1 million Nepalis left Nepal last year.&nbsp;
Besides these there are Nepalis settled permanently overseas, spread across North America, Europe, Australia, and East Asia. There are 290,000 documented people of Nepali origin in the US alone – their average yearly household income is more than $100,000.
Nepalis can run into compatriots in just about <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/143106">every corner of the globe</a>, and the money they send home annually just through official channels totals $11 billion. The real figure is much higher.&nbsp;
The decentralisation of the passport distribution in the 1990s for the first time made international movement easier for Nepalis. The Non-Resident Nepalis Association (NRNA), was established in 2003 and now has 97,000 members and chapters in 87 countries.
In 2008, the Nepal government introduced the Non-Resident Nepali Act, categorising Non-Resident Nepalis (NRNs) as either being an individual of Nepali origin who has acquired foreign citizenship, or a Nepali citizen residing abroad for more than two years. It excludes people of Nepali origin and Nepalis residing and working in SAARC member countries.
The 2015 Constitution stipulated that overseas Nepalis <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/143037">could ‘enjoy economic, social, and cultural rights in accordance with federal law’</a>. However, it took another eight years for Parliament to pass the Nepal Citizenship (First Amendment) Bill under which overseas Nepalis (except those in South Asia) had all the rights of Nepali citizens except the right to vote or run for political office.&nbsp;
The provisions laid down in the Constitution and law are not for dual citizenship, but for second citizenship. &nbsp;
Indeed, those who have gone through the process of obtaining an NRN citizenship have described it as <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/143112">needlessly convoluted</a>. District Administration Offices refuse to issue US-based NRNs a second citizenship without their Social Security number despite American laws prohibiting the disclosure of the number outside of the US. If they obtain Nepali citizenship, NRNs have had to pay visa fees even though there is a government directive that they do not have to do so.&nbsp;
The idea was to make it easy for many to invest in Nepal, or retire in their motherland in the hope that this <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/poor-cash-rich-nepal">would boost the economy</a>. Many first and second generation Nepali émigré across the world have children and grandchildren who want to know about their heritage.
Non-Resident Nepalis can acquire property in Nepal through purchase, inheritance, or investment. Those with foreign citizenship can obtain 10 year visa. They are also entitled to run any industry or business in Nepal, to set up bank accounts, and to bring in either Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) or make investments just like Nepali citizens. NRNs are exempt from taxes on investment, and may repatriate the investment and profits to their home country.
Despite these stipulations, the country’s investment climate is not conducive even for people of Nepali origin. There is just too much bureaucratic rigmarole, restrictions, kickbacks and payoffs every step of the way.&nbsp;
Inheritance rights <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/143037">only exist on paper</a>, NRN citizens are made to jump through too many hoops to purchase property and many have just given up. The word has spread in the NRN community that despite the 2022 Act, Nepal is not for the faint-hearted.
<a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/143112">Tara Baral from Jhapa</a> spent 20 years and is a US citizen. After the 2022 NRN Act was passed by Parliament, he decided to move back to the motherland last year. He and his wife got NRN citizenship papers and wanted to buy an apartment in Kathmandu. Even though he was not buying real estate, just a flat, bureaucrats told him foreigners were not allowed to buy property.&nbsp;
Even though NRN citizenship allows people of Nepali origin to get a 10 year visa for free, Baral was asked by bureaucrats at the Immigration Department to pay for his visa renewal. Basudev Ghimire an American with NRN citizenship is asked at Kathmandu Airport to pay a visa fee every time he enters Nepal. He has not been able to buy any property. There are hundreds of examples like Baral and Ghimire.&nbsp;
NRNA founding chair Jiba Lamichhane says that rather than NRN citizenship, Nepalis who have acquired foreign passports should be allowed to have dual citizenship, unless they renounce it voluntarily. Lamichhane has lived overseas for almost four decades but still carries a Nepali passport.
Nepal’s main political parties have maintained strong ties with the diaspora for their dollars. Leading politicians make frequent fund-raising forays abroad. This has ended up <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/143121">politicising the NRN community</a>, reflecting the divisions back home. The power struggle for leadership is so strong that fist fights have broken out during NRNA elections in North America.&nbsp;
Nepal’s parties have been loath to address the issue of NRNs because they feel overseas Nepalis are inherently anti-incumbent. Many who left Nepal say they did so because they got fed up with bad governance, corruption and lack of jobs and a stagnant economy. This is also why parties in Parliament have stalled a bill that would give Nepali passport holders working and studying abroad absentee voting rights.&nbsp;
Heaping blame on just the politicians would be unfair. The bureaucracy has become a den of thieves, and despite acts of Parliament and laws they put hurdles every step of the way for overseas Nepalis to enjoy their constitutionally-given rights.&nbsp;
Based on Diaspora Discussion held by our sister publication Himalkhabar on 13 October. Watch full video in Nepali <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPdgbKAglrE&amp;t=2s">here</a>.

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Home is where the heart is

Ayan Dallakoti spent his childhood in Japan, speaking Japanese and for all intents and purposes, considered himself Japanese. It was only as he grew older that he realised he was actually from Nepal. &nbsp; Ayan was eight years old when his mother Pratibha brought him and his younger brother Avan back to Nepal. Their father Anjay, who is still in Japan, had decided to send the boys home so they could “become Nepali”. Ayan was somewhat familiar with the Nepali language and the country, but in Kathmandu, everything felt foreign, including the education system. “Things were a little easier when he had a classmate who had also returned from Japan, but making Nepali friends did not come easily for them,” remembers Pratibha.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040928_c4a683bc4723ce1f5b5683d41add972c915ea6b6fc229a44b713c707381d8787.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240922040928_c4a683bc4723ce1f5b5683d41add972c915ea6b6fc229a44b713c707381d8787" data-rendition-name="original" width="5856" height="3904" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 3"> <figcaption>All photos: GOPEN RAI</figcaption> </figure>  Japan is now a major destination for Nepali families like the Dallakotis. Officially, there are 180,000 Nepalis in Japan and 35,000 more left just in the past year – a 30% increase from the year before that.&nbsp; Japanese embassy figures show that of those who left last year, 23,124 were on student visas, 8,566 were on working visas and 7,849 were dependents. While most of the older generation of Nepalis in Japan are cooks who went as ‘skilled labour’, the new crop of migrants are mostly on student visas, working part-time. For the Japanese government, a student visa is a carefully calibrated temporary migration system to fill the country’s labour shortage in the service sector. Unlike the Gulf, Korea, Malaysia and other countries, Nepalis in Japan can also take along their families. Which is why Nepali schools have sprung up in large cities in Japan. These schools teach Nepali language, culture, and also English. But for families who work far away from those cities, the children have no option but to get a Japanese education.&nbsp; Anjay Dallakoti initially went to Japan as a student, but extended his stay with a working visa. Pratibha joined him a few years later as a dependent. Ayan was born in Japan, and six years later Avan. After 12 years, Pratibha is back in Nepal with both her boys.&nbsp; In many Nepali families in Japan, it is the children who are having to adjust to being caught in between two worlds. Many have to cope with the double adjustment of first arriving in Japan, and then returning to school in Nepal. According to Masako Tanaka, a professor at Tokyo’s Sophia University, nearly 20,000 Nepalis in Japan are minors. Tanaka has been working closely with Nepali migrants in Japan, and says many mothers are bringing their children back to Nepal because of worries that they are losing touch with their identity and culture back home. The other reason is that the children are not learning enough English, and the parents fear they will lose out in later life. &nbsp; “Returning to Nepal and studying in schools here helps create an environment for the children to either stay and work in Nepal in future or go to a third country,” says Sapana Kharel, who also returned to Nepal with her two children. For Nepali families who have not yet got permanent resident status, staying on in Japan and continuing their children’s education is too uncertain. They worry that this could interrupt their children’s education if they have to leave Japan midway through school.&nbsp; “There is fear that the children will neither have a place in Nepali schools nor there in Japan,” adds Kharel. Others say that they would have returned to Nepal for the sake of the children no matter what, even if they got permanent residence in Japan. Indeed, there are Nepali mothers who are already permanent residents who have opted to return with their children.&nbsp; Take the Subedi family who have permanent resident status in Japan, but brought their daughter Shibika to Nepal after she completed Grade 1 in Japan.&nbsp; Many migrant children like Shibika had to repeat grades they had already studied in Japan. She had to repeat Grade 1, and is now in Grade 9. Her mother Nitu Bista Subedi feels that repeating a year was necessary to strengthen her daughter’s foundation in the Nepali curriculum.&nbsp; “Shibika has fond memories of Japan and misses being together with the whole family there, and she worries that her Japanese classmates are getting ahead of her,” says Subedi. Ten-year-old Ahana Odari had her own struggles when she was brought to Nepal by her mother a year ago. She too had to repeat Grade 3. “She just wouldn’t speak for the first few months because of the language problem,” remembers her mother, Balika Odari. “Ahana took a whole year to adapt and adjust to Nepal and its ways. But this was necessary.”&nbsp; Like a lot of parents, Balika feels that although Japan’s education system is one of the best in the world, children there are more reclusive and do not socialise as much. “We were worried our children would turn out the same way, and that is why we decided to bring them back and introduce them to their country and culture,” she explains. In more extreme cases, migration can hinder the psychosocial development of returning children. &nbsp; “Early-age children are good at learning dual or multiple languages, but because of the limited vocabulary they are exposed to, they might not always have words to express how they are feeling. And that is where the problem lies,” says Srijana Adhikari, a clinical psychologist at Happy Minds.&nbsp; “For healthy development, the environment the child grows up in and the needs to be stable,” she adds. “If not, this may lead to problems adjusting, separation anxiety and struggles in building relationships.” Sneha Khatri, now 14, oscillated between Nepal and Japan over the years. She was born in Japan but was brought to Nepal when she was six. She studied here until Grade 3 and then went to the Nepali-run Everest International School in Tokyo.&nbsp; Sneha came back to Nepal a month ago to appear for her Basic Level Examination (BLE) but is worried about her results. She is taking extra tutorials in mathematics.&nbsp; Ayan is now in Grade 7, and is also worried about his BLE next year. He says in Japanese-accented English: “Social Studies is my first hardest subject, and Nepali is the second hardest.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040932_3ddaf6b56253baac855f2b4de4f9a646b1c80a677cc8e9d73d469a3c37496ea7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240922040932_3ddaf6b56253baac855f2b4de4f9a646b1c80a677cc8e9d73d469a3c37496ea7" data-rendition-name="original" width="5477" height="3651" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 4"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040932_3b59646b4c1f30831b039caf8c5e9018fb0ce23349dacebfa0cbee024b4bd885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240922040932_3b59646b4c1f30831b039caf8c5e9018fb0ce23349dacebfa0cbee024b4bd885" data-rendition-name="original" width="5928" height="3808" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 5"> </figure>  Speaking Nepali with family and friends is not hard for the returnee migrant children, but Nepali as an academic subject is difficult.&nbsp; Professor Tanaka says migrant children have fallen through the cracks between Japan and Nepal. She asks rhetorically, “Who will think about the welfare of the migrant children? Who is responsible for them?”&nbsp; Tanaka was in Kathmandu recently for a workshop on Nepali language education for migrant children during which she presented research findings of her Migrant Children Language Education project. Tanaka’s conclusion is that mother tongue Nepali language education is the best way to help the reintegration of children returning from Japan. “The government can start by developing Nepali language learning resources for online or home learners abroad, training teachers abroad, and organising and encouraging events for Nepali children overseas,” Tanaka told Nepali Times.&nbsp; “Nepal can learn from countries like Myanmar, Thailand, Vietnam and Brazil which are working on national language education for their migrant children in Japan.” To be sure, there are also students who are doing well despite the culture shock of moving back and forth between Japan and Nepal.&nbsp; Sapana Kharel’s daughter, Saurya was born in Japan. She came to Nepal when she was six to study in Nepal. Soon after, she went to Japan. She came back when she was 12 to appear for the Nepali BLE. She initially struggled and had low confidence, but soon overcame it and did well. “Now, I’ve realised the importance of learning my mother tongue and have taken up Nepali classes as part of my course,” says Saurya, now 17, in flawless Nepali. But for other migrant children whose parents do not speak enough Nepali when they were in Japan, mastering the mother tongue is still a big hurdle.&nbsp; Ayan’s mother looks at her two children playing at her home in Kirtipur, and says, “The sacrifice we made as a couple, living far from one another, is for our children, their education and for a better future.”&nbsp; <h2>Nepali in Nippon</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040928_bb476f3818df3d28240779b520cb93b2aee216f9a1023e0bbe0fccd3abbcd6f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240922040928_bb476f3818df3d28240779b520cb93b2aee216f9a1023e0bbe0fccd3abbcd6f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT "> </figure>  In June, when the SEE (Secondary Education Examination) results came out, one of the students who passed was a Zambian national student from Japan. He was studying at the Everest International School Japan (EISJ) in Tokyo which follows the Nepali curriculum, and accommodates the need of families in Nepal and other countries in Japan to also learn English. Initially started in 2013 by the Nepali community, this school came under Nepal’s Ministry of Education (MoE) in 2015. EISJ is the only school in Japan that is certified to take Nepal’s SEE in Japan.&nbsp; Other schools that follow the Nepali curriculum have also opened up, over the years. But only two of them, Tokai Batika International School in Nagoya and Himalayan International Academy in Tokyo are certified to conduct Nepali curriculum as per Nepal’s Ministry of Education. But both provide education only below Grade 10.&nbsp; “As of now, the only country to have schools that follow Nepali curriculum is Japan,” says Parshuram Tiwari, director at the Education Review Office at the MoE in Kathmandu. The majority of Nepali families and a few non-Nepali families working in Japan decide to send their children to schools like EISJ because of the English medium. But these are private international schools, unlike the Japanese government schools which are free of cost. And because these schools are not certified, the Japanese government provides no subsidy, no transportation discount among other privileges to these schools, says Professor Masako Tanaka at Sophia University in Tokyo. &nbsp;“Most importantly, graduates of EISJ cannot get visa status independently even after graduation from high school level, while the migrant students who graduate from Japanese schools are eligible.” Many Nepali families enrol their children to such schools without knowing this, adds Tanka. But even those who know about drawbacks want to provide their children with the opportunity to get international exposure with English language skills. Nepali curriculum schools are mostly based in and around Tokyo, and many Nepali families who live in the suburbs of Japan opt to come to Nepal for their children’s education. (Adjoining article) “We lived in Niigata. It would take us six hours to travel to Everest International School in Tokyo. So, we came to Nepal to give our children English medium education,” says Pratibha Dallakoti, who returned from Japan with her two sons in 2020. While schools that follow the Nepali curriculum in Japan have been a relief for Nepali parents who want their children to pursue Nepali curriculum education, these schools getting certified by the Japanese government would be better. “There are several other international schools in Japan that are certified by both Japanese and foreign dual standards like the &nbsp;Kyoto Kokusai School,” wrote Professor Tanaka in an email interview. “It is for the better that these Nepali curriculum schools like EISJ become similar to KKS which makes it easier for the children as they can get a certificate from both the government. ”

Pinki Sris Rana

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Japan-born Nepali children struggle to ‘be Nepali’

Human history is woven in stories of migration for work and livelihood. The trend continues to be a legacy for most Nepali men, who have migrated for work to India, Burma and beyond for centuries, working odd jobs, or defending other countries.   <img width="1181" height="530" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be85b9c7e80680e087853jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The more recent phenomenon in the past two decades is the outflow of workers to the Gulf and Malaysia, who battle challenges starting from agents at home to difficult weather conditions and foreign employers. In 2018-19, the government issued 236,208 permits for overseas work, and it is estimated that at least 4 million Nepalis at any given time are working abroad. Khushiram Gurung, Sultan Tika and Ram from different regions of Nepal, have spent a large part of their lives toiling in foreign countries, while their hearts stayed back home. Now, their children are following their fathers’ footsteps in this inter-generational trend.  <figure><img width="650" height="451" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be85c9c7e80680e087854jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Khushiram Gurung has been working in Bahrain as a security guard since 2010.He was first introduced to Bahrain in 2003, when he was a 15-year-old boy in Lamjung. His father, an Indian Army returnee, was waiting to hear from a Kathmandu-based recruiter regarding a security guard job in Malaysia. But the agent came back with a possible opportunity in Bahrain instead.The family had never heard of Bahrain, but after learning that the salary would be over Rs30,000 per month, they said yes. In the next few days, Khushiram’s father arranged Rs100,000 via informal loans, and left for Bahrain. Five years later, Khushiram’s brother joined him in Bahrain. After 7 years, it was Khushiram. Having grown up without his father around, it was in Bahrain that he spent more time with him.  <figure><img width="1152" height="864" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be85e9c7e80680e087855jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“When we were growing up and my father was away in India, we didn’t know when he would return. My siblings and I would wake up some days and he would just be sitting in the kitchen, having arrived late in the previous night.” When his father left for Bahrain, his presence became the letters that arrived at great intervals. “We used to go to the Hulak post office to see if there was a letter. The day the letters arrived, we would run home from school at around 4PM and wait for my mother to return from the fields. But once she was back, my siblings and I would sit around and my elder brother would read out the letter,” recalls Khushiram.By 2012, with three family members in Bahrain, finances had improved and they were building a house in Kathmandu. But their lives came crashing when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. “The ones left behind rarely get the attention and credit they deserve for keeping families intact. We are viewed as the providers, but to me, it was my mother who was the real leader of our family,” says Khushiram.The family gave the mother the treatment they could afford, but there came a time when the doctors said nothing more could be done. Khushiram and his brother decided to send their father home. “We had to convince our father it was time he left, without telling him what the doctors had said. He agreed. We cried.”The two were able to spend a few months together before she passed. “But we were not able to spend time with our mother even in her last days. That is the dilemma of foreign employment. Between our duty hours and the news of our mother’s cancer, much remains a blur,” he says. <figure><img width="1241" height="1448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8619c7e80680e087856jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Khushiram, now a father of a six-year-old boy, hopes that his son will not have to opt for foreign employment. “While I want him to stay in Nepal, our politicians, with their self-interest and cronyism, will likely chase my son abroad just like they did my father, brother and I."***Sultan Tika left Gulmi for Malaysia in 1991. He used his connections to arrange a visit visa as there were no work permits, and Nepalis went via Thailand. “I went to Malaysia because I had been told that there is an option for citizenship if you stay there for a few years, only to realise it wasn’t true,” Sultan recalls. <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8649c7e80680e087857jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>  The term ‘setting’ where transnational networks operated were already a thing then. He had to pay Rs80,000 to the agents. “For someone who had barely seen 500 rupee notes, this amount was really large. At that time, you could buy 1 बिघा (0.4 hectare) land at Rs50,000.” Sultan was paid Rs240 a day to do agricultural work.   The reluctance to hire foreign workers in Malaysia was as real then as they are now. Sectors like agriculture were facing shortages, however, and without legal pathways, illegal options were the only route. Sultan says Nepalis started coming “in droves” to Malaysia from 2001, when the government introduced work permits for foreign workers, first for agriculture workers then for security guards. As a veteran migrant worker in the agriculture sector, Sultan leased land and started his own initiative in Penang. He also became the go-to person for many Nepalis who had escaped their abusive employers or were seeking work. “For many, it was a transit job so they could earn enough to buy their tickets home,” he says.In 2017, Sultan decided to pack up and come home. He has set up an agriculture farm in Gulmi, where he is raising 90 goats and has set up a greenhouse for vegetables farming.  <img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8679c7e80680e087858jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be86a9c7e80680e087859jpeg.jpg" alt="">Sultan Tika in his home village in Gulmi. “When I went to Malaysia in 1991, it felt like Nepal and Malaysia were similar. By the time I left, Malaysia had advanced so much,” he says now. But he is optimistic about the opportunities promised by mechanised agriculture in Nepal, with the right incentives and policies in place.****Ram first went abroad for work in 1998.  “Everyone said Arab is the place to be, so I too wanted to go,” he says. The names Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Dubai sounded familiar but it did not matter to him where he landed up as long as he could leave Nepal.Ram was charged Rs55,000 for a security job in Dubai. There was not much documentation and process in those days. There were not many Nepalis in Dubai in 1998 but it was exciting to bump into them and ask how long they had been there.“If they said 4 or 5 years, I would feel a mixture of shock and pity for them. The idea of being in a foreign country for so long was new to me,” he says. “Little did I know that I would still be here in 2020.”In Ram’s memory, Dubai almost looked like Nepal when he first arrived. “There were no tall buildings. Even the airport was small and dingy. Look at this place now. Dubai has changed a lot, but I have not changed at all.” “Back then, a 30 dirham phone card lasted 3 minutes. I used to use one to talk to the shopkeeper with the phone to arrange the time for the call. And another one to talk to my family at the pre-arranged time. I would make up my mind in advance about the things I wanted to say in those three minutes. The rest went in the letter,” he recalls.Working as a security guard everyday for two decades have been a repetition of the previous day for Ram. “No career progression. No change in routine. Some clever Nepali guards become group leaders, but the rest of us are always security officers.”Every year, he spends over 4,000 hours guarding either private residences or commercial buildings. “I usually get the 12-hour night shifts from 5PM to 5AM. It is difficult to feel rested when you sleep during the day. And it takes a toll on your health.” With low incomes, saving is a challenge. And there are always new expenses. There’s children’s education and bigger investments like land and house. “Then it is your children’s wedding. And your parents’ health costs. Just when you think you are done some other expense shows up, and you keep postponing your return home.” Ram’s elder daughter got married recently and he could not be home. “Remittances helped me pay for my daughter’s wedding. But my job did not let me go back to attend it.”Now in his 50s, Ram says that unlike the lyrics to the song Saili that says, “we will return home at 40”, he is late by a decade. “My visa expires in 18 months. I think I will now head home for good. It is time.”

Upasana Khadka

Sons of their fathers

Human history is woven in stories of migration for work and livelihood. The trend continues to be a legacy for most Nepali men, who have migrated for work to India, Burma and beyond for centuries, working odd jobs, or defending other countries.   <img width="1181" height="530" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef504b0ad905ca02ef9cjpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The more recent phenomenon in the past two decades is the outflow of workers to the Gulf and Malaysia, who battle challenges starting from agents at home to difficult weather conditions and foreign employers. In 2018-19, the government issued 236,208 permits for overseas work, and it is estimated that at least 4 million Nepalis at any given time are working abroad. Khushiram Gurung, Sultan Tika and Ram from different regions of Nepal, have spent a large part of their lives toiling in foreign countries, while their hearts stayed back home. Now, their children are following their fathers’ footsteps in this inter-generational trend.  <figure><img width="650" height="451" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef534b0ad905ca02ef9djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Khushiram Gurung with his family at their Kathmandu home. </figcaption></figure>Khushiram Gurung has been working in Bahrain as a security guard since 2010.He was first introduced to Bahrain in 2003, when he was a 15-year-old boy in Lamjung. His father, an Indian Army returnee, was waiting to hear from a Kathmandu-based recruiter regarding a security guard job in Malaysia. But the agent came back with a possible opportunity in Bahrain instead.The family had never heard of Bahrain, but after learning that the salary would be over Rs30,000 per month, they said yes. In the next few days, Khushiram’s father arranged Rs100,000 via informal loans, and left for Bahrain. Five years later, Khushiram’s brother joined him in Bahrain. After 7 years, it was Khushiram. Having grown up without his father around, it was in Bahrain that he spent more time with him.  <figure><img width="1152" height="864" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef554b0ad905ca02ef9ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> Khushiram Gurung with colleagues when he first arrived in Bahrain.</figcaption></figure>“When we were growing up and my father was away in India, we didn’t know when he would return. My siblings and I would wake up some days and he would just be sitting in the kitchen, having arrived late in the previous night.” When his father left for Bahrain, his presence became the letters that arrived at great intervals. “We used to go to the Hulak post office to see if there was a letter. The day the letters arrived, we would run home from school at around 4PM and wait for my mother to return from the fields. But once she was back, my siblings and I would sit around and my elder brother would read out the letter,” recalls Khushiram.By 2012, with three family members in Bahrain, finances had improved and they were building a house in Kathmandu. But their lives came crashing when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. “The ones left behind rarely get the attention and credit they deserve for keeping families intact. We are viewed as the providers, but to me, it was my mother who was the real leader of our family,” says Khushiram.The family gave the mother the treatment they could afford, but there came a time when the doctors said nothing more could be done. Khushiram and his brother decided to send their father home. “We had to convince our father it was time he left, without telling him what the doctors had said. He agreed. We cried.”The two were able to spend a few months together before she passed. “But we were not able to spend time with our mother even in her last days. That is the dilemma of foreign employment. Between our duty hours and the news of our mother’s cancer, much remains a blur,” he says. <figure><img width="1241" height="1448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef574b0ad905ca02ef9fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Khushiram Gurung at the airport in Bahrain with his father, seeing him off as he headed back home for good.</figcaption></figure>Khushiram, now a father of a six-year-old boy, hopes that his son will not have to opt for foreign employment. “While I want him to stay in Nepal, our politicians, with their self-interest and cronyism, will likely chase my son abroad just like they did my father, brother and I."***Sultan Tika left Gulmi for Malaysia in 1991. He used his connections to arrange a visit visa as there were no work permits, and Nepalis went via Thailand. “I went to Malaysia because I had been told that there is an option for citizenship if you stay there for a few years, only to realise it wasn’t true,” Sultan recalls. <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef5a4b0ad905ca02efa0jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Sultan Tika in Malaysia, in front of Petronas.</figcaption></figure>  The term ‘setting’ where transnational networks operated were already a thing then. He had to pay Rs80,000 to the agents. “For someone who had barely seen 500 rupee notes, this amount was really large. At that time, you could buy 1 बिघा (0.4 hectare) land at Rs50,000.” Sultan was paid Rs240 a day to do agricultural work.   The reluctance to hire foreign workers in Malaysia was as real then as they are now. Sectors like agriculture were facing shortages, however, and without legal pathways, illegal options were the only route. Sultan says Nepalis started coming “in droves” to Malaysia from 2001, when the government introduced work permits for foreign workers, first for agriculture workers then for security guards. As a veteran migrant worker in the agriculture sector, Sultan leased land and started his own initiative in Penang. He also became the go-to person for many Nepalis who had escaped their abusive employers or were seeking work. “For many, it was a transit job so they could earn enough to buy their tickets home,” he says.In 2017, Sultan decided to pack up and come home. He has set up an agriculture farm in Gulmi, where he is raising 90 goats and has set up a greenhouse for vegetables farming.  <img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef5c4b0ad905ca02efa1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef5f4b0ad905ca02efa2jpeg.jpg" alt="">Sultan Tika in his home village in Gulmi. “When I went to Malaysia in 1991, it felt like Nepal and Malaysia were similar. By the time I left, Malaysia had advanced so much,” he says now. But he is optimistic about the opportunities promised by mechanised agriculture in Nepal, with the right incentives and policies in place.****Ram first went abroad for work in 1998.  “Everyone said Arab is the place to be, so I too wanted to go,” he says. The names Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Dubai sounded familiar but it did not matter to him where he landed up as long as he could leave Nepal.Ram was charged Rs55,000 for a security job in Dubai. There was not much documentation and process in those days. There were not many Nepalis in Dubai in 1998 but it was exciting to bump into them and ask how long they had been there.“If they said 4 or 5 years, I would feel a mixture of shock and pity for them. The idea of being in a foreign country for so long was new to me,” he says. “Little did I know that I would still be here in 2020.”In Ram’s memory, Dubai almost looked like Nepal when he first arrived. “There were no tall buildings. Even the airport was small and dingy. Look at this place now. Dubai has changed a lot, but I have not changed at all.” “Back then, a 30 dirham phone card lasted 3 minutes. I used to use one to talk to the shopkeeper with the phone to arrange the time for the call. And another one to talk to my family at the pre-arranged time. I would make up my mind in advance about the things I wanted to say in those three minutes. The rest went in the letter,” he recalls.Working as a security guard everyday for two decades have been a repetition of the previous day for Ram. “No career progression. No change in routine. Some clever Nepali guards become group leaders, but the rest of us are always security officers.”Every year, he spends over 4,000 hours guarding either private residences or commercial buildings. “I usually get the 12-hour night shifts from 5PM to 5AM. It is difficult to feel rested when you sleep during the day. And it takes a toll on your health.” With low incomes, saving is a challenge. And there are always new expenses. There’s children’s education and bigger investments like land and house. “Then it is your children’s wedding. And your parents’ health costs. Just when you think you are done some other expense shows up, and you keep postponing your return home.” Ram’s elder daughter got married recently and he could not be home. “Remittances helped me pay for my daughter’s wedding. But my job did not let me go back to attend it.”Now in his 50s, Ram says that unlike the lyrics to the song Saili that says, “we will return home at 40”, he is late by a decade. “My visa expires in 18 months. I think I will now head home for good. It is time.”

https://youtu.be/NR6mf_rrRb0Learning from the success of overseas Chinese and Indians investing in their homeland, the Nepal government hurriedly passed two foreign investment related bills recently. But non-resident Nepalis are not impressed.The Public Private Partnership and Investment (PPPIA) Bill was passed by Parliament on 18 March, and the Foreign Investment and Technology Transfer (FITTA) Bill on 22 March, but investors say it does not go far enough in allying their concerns.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2b239c7e80680e04595ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="211" height="182"/>Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/maze/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Maze</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Invest in investment</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=23939&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Curb corruption before wooing investors</a>, Ramesh KumarNot only do the bills have contradictory provisions with an extended negative list, a minimum limit for investments, and requirements of multiple approvals, experts say they do not address the central concern of transparency, policy continuity and rule of law.FITTA has extended the negative list (sectors in which foreign investment is prohibited) to include agriculture, horticulture, and dairy, sectors which many overseas Nepalis are eager to modernise and create jobs back home.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-inc/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal, Inc.</a>, Suman Joshi<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=23951&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A roller coaster ride</a>, Shyamal K Shrestha “When you prohibit so many areas for foreign investment, you are giving the wrong message to investors, especially to non-resident Nepalis. Not only does it render some sectors completely off limits, it also scares investors that their current investments may become off limits in future,” says <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/bottom-up-approach/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Siddhant Pandey of Business Oxygen</a>. “Investment should be welcomed in all areas so as to help economic growth, technology transfer and to bring Nepal’s human resources up to speed.”The Non-resident Nepali (NRN) Association is concerned about shortcomings in the Acts, and has said so through a document published by its policy research wing Nepal Policy Institute (NPI) which rues the fact that the Acts treat overseas Nepalis, foreign citizens of Nepali origin, and other foreign investors alike.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/two-experts-on-nepals-investment-climate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s investment climate</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-nepal-can-invest-in-improving-the-investment-climate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">How Nepal can invest in improving the investment climate</a>, Anil Chitrakar Says Khagendra Dhakal of NPI: “The government says it needs the negative list to protect small-scale industries, but people of Nepali origins have special emotional ties to Nepal even if they may not have enough capital for large scale investments. NRNs and foreign citizens of Nepali origins should be given the same rights as Nepali citizens.”The NPI report recommends scrapping the negative list and lifting restrictions on foreigners from investing in businesses worth less than $150,000 for overseas Nepalis.“If a business worth $100,000 is employing at least 20 Nepalis and training them in new technology, it should be open to investment for NRNs and foreigners of Nepali origin too,” says Dhakal.However, FITTA authorises the Industry and Investment Promotion Board to approve companies investing Rs5-10 billion, while PPPIA directs companies above Rs6 billion to the Investment Board Nepal (IBN).Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/early-investors-didnt-sell-nepal-short/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Early investors didn’t sell Nepal short</a>, Lisa Choegyal<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=23904&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Napoli Nepali</a>, Kunda Dixit<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2b249c7e80680e04595bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="428"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Amidst concern that PPPIA concentrates power in the IBN, which does not have much to show for itself, the real question at the Summit this week is whether these hastily-passed bills will remove misgivings of foreigners and NRNs about investing in Nepal.Economist and former Nepali ambassador to the United States Shankar Sharma believes that the law itself is not the problem when it comes to attracting foreign investment, but its execution.“We have good laws but their implementation is weak, which is the real problem,” says Sharma. “There is supposed to be a one-door policy, but in reality investors are made to jump through hoops to register companies or repatriate profits. The process is cumbersome, full of hassles. We need detailed guidelines about how these laws will be simpler and easier to implement.”Former president of NRN association Jiba Lamichhane agrees, stating that though the laws are all right there are other problems. “Overall our laws are quite liberal, but they fail to create a conducive investment climate with extortion, hassles over repatriating profits. If we want to attract investment, we must learn from best practices around the world. African countries attract huge investments from China while we have not been able to do so despite being next door,” he says.Investing in Nepal is more expensive than in other Asian countries due to the lack of skilled manpower and infrastructure, and experts say that without improvements the two bills are not going to make much of a difference.On the positive side, FITTA and PPPIA have eliminated many of the hassles related to registering FDI companies. Investors who needed to get approval from at least five agencies, now need to go to only two.The World Bank’s Nepal Country Manager Faris Hadad-Zervos told Nepali Times: “Nepal is entering a new chapter in its development, and it is not just about one law or policy but a change in the narrative where Nepal has survived several crises and is moving to rebuilding. The actual impact of the bills will depend on regulations to operationalise these laws.”

Overseas Nepalis are not impressed

We were used to getting stuck in Kathmandu’s notorious traffic with gas fumes and horns blaring. We are still stuck in traffic, but now it is mostly the quiet hum of EVs, and street-level air is noticeably cleaner. Alongside Norway, Nepal has the highest combustion-to-EV conversion rates in the world. And we are not even a middle-income country yet. How did we get here?&nbsp; For the first time in Nepal’s history, 2025 saw an unprecedented turn of events: two back-to-back auto shows a week apart in August, independent of each other. This was timed for the warm up to the Dasain season. &nbsp;&nbsp; The first auto show 6-11 August was the <a href="https://naimanepal.org/mobility-expo" target="_blank">NAIMA Mobility Expo 2025 </a>by the newly established Nepal Automobile Importers and Manufacturers Association which saw 35 new models, many of them EVs with 50 participating brands like Toyota, BYD, Hyundai, Kia, MG, Mahindra, Omoda &amp; Jaecoo, Proton and Leapmotor.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_d8c03f5141f0086814d866543af4d95310f340a7191363e4705aedda8e4b73d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025101711108_d8c03f5141f0086814d866543af4d95310f340a7191363e4705aedda8e4b73d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1770" height="1097" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The exhibition had a strong focus on two-wheelers aimed at affordable and easy mobility in a town now known for long traffic jams (see report). NAIMA attracted a record 100,000 visitors in six days.&nbsp; The second one was the Nepal Automobile Dealer’s Association Auto Show 2025 (<a href="https://youtu.be/emSd0mUuMjU" target="_blank">NADA</a>) to address the growing demands for cars and two-wheelers. It was a natural expression of new market forces at work, on one hand, and popular taste, on the other — one influencing the other.&nbsp; This year’s NADA Auto Show was its 17th iteration, and carried a hefty legacy: exhibiting a contemporary lineup from manufacturers such as Tata, Suzuki, Xpeng and Nammi, but also classics for vintage car lovers like the 1928 Ford Model A and a rare 1955 Austin Princess Dm4 sedan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_dda7d264ddb12448cc10d9b1cb699632eee975741fc4c56055e4df904579c34f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025101711108_dda7d264ddb12448cc10d9b1cb699632eee975741fc4c56055e4df904579c34f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1381" height="848" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  It also showcased the Deepal eVTOL (a 2-seater drone), and a humanoid robot with dog. Curious onlookers at Bhrikuti Mandap thronged the show with footfall crossing 170,000.&nbsp; Earlier this year, I had traveled to attend India's largest auto show, the <a href="https://youtu.be/OgIIvXx6yOM?si=zNmMgklzCJpagTye" target="_blank">Bharat Mobility Global expo</a> in January in New Delhi. It was part of a <a href="https://youtu.be/GT6LBKiJvyg?si=r7YaxahjSAnsIfBY" target="_blank">roadtrip</a> from one capital to another with BYD Nepal on a Dolphin. The journey took three days through Bhairawa and then the Lucknow-Agra Expressway, covering a distance of 1200km one way.&nbsp; The drive through the horrid Narayanghat-Butwal corridor alone was testimony that EVs are no longer fragile and could handle a beating. And while both Nepal's economy pales in comparison to India, it was evident that the private passenger segment is well on its way to electrification. More than 70% of all vehicles sold in Nepal last year were electric. Sales representatives are unanimous: inquiries for EVs are at an all-time high and overshadow demand for ICE (Internal Combustion Engine) vehicles. Besides four-wheelers, a fast-growing proportion of scooters were also electric.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111016_e4cd988ca915ddd283a86d48fac332f22f98ff776b3d22391e10156ad56d7a1a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251017111016_e4cd988ca915ddd283a86d48fac332f22f98ff776b3d22391e10156ad56d7a1a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1389" height="863" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal"> </figure>  I have spent the last two years <a href="https://youtu.be/256YQa37Ol8?si=Sv1wQ8EdvgMCiTM_" target="_blank">reviewing</a> many of these EVs. The days of batter-powered cars being small toy cars, with sub-par build quality and the range of golf carts have long gone.&nbsp; Fit and finishing in both Chinese and Indian EVs are comparable to established brand names even in Japanese and European markets. But most significantly for us in Nepal, battery technology and range have made inter-city travel on our highways imaginable. The media sometimes portrays Nepal as a prime testing/dumping ground for EVs due to lack of regulation and the proximity to the world’s largest EV exporter (China) and our tough geographical conditions. That is just a part of the story. What actually stands out is the incredible appetite for risk among Nepali buyers.&nbsp; Since the Covid pandemic charging infrastructure has spread across the country. My early trips between Kathmandu and Pokhara saw the possibility of topping up with just one charging gun at the <a href="https://rsr.com.np/" target="_blank">Riverside Springs Resort in Kurintar</a> – and I would have to wait in line, or the charger simply would not be working.&nbsp; These days, by the time I cross Kurintar from Koteswor in my Kona, I will have passed at least 10 charging stations with multiple guns. &nbsp; On my <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@casuallyannoyeddriver" target="_blank">YouTube reviews</a>, people from across the globe ask about range and handling EVs on poor road conditions like ours. The occasional skeptics also leave comments like: ‘If this works in the higher altitudes and mountainous roads of Nepal, then it should be a breeze down here in the flats of Australia and/or hills around Auckland!’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111016_8b4fbe59884538849be6428eb2ce9249627a8970ed9ef4cd3c792682bf26dbed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251017111016_8b4fbe59884538849be6428eb2ce9249627a8970ed9ef4cd3c792682bf26dbed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1139" height="787" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal"> </figure>  SATURATION? However, both the NAIMA and NADA auto show also confirmed that we could be hitting a peak EV. From having just one car in one budget segment, there are now multiple alternatives stretching from the entry of below Rs3 million to the premium and high-end Rs 10 million price point.&nbsp; Furthermore, the price wars on EVs that started in China a year ago have also trickled across to Nepal. Models such as the <a href="https://youtu.be/3wFN2I81Tq0?si=T6L4SAfRpoyNNvYC" target="_blank">MG S5</a>, Nammi Vigo, BYD Atto 2 (and 1) and <a href="https://youtu.be/y214kWbWTc4?si=bIevanDZEPQdkEs4" target="_blank">Deepal S05</a> saw aggressive pricing schemes and discounts that disrupted pre-existing quotas. Consumers can suddenly afford a lot more cars, and travel a lot further for a considerably smaller price tag.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_276afec1bdbd37497572939a4eada4bef74c9d075cd5851892c4dd1985edb9c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2025101711108_276afec1bdbd37497572939a4eada4bef74c9d075cd5851892c4dd1985edb9c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1953" height="1107" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  However, booking numbers at both auto shows did not necessarily translate into actual deliveries. The fact remains that almost 80% of registered vehicles in Nepal are still two-wheelers, and GDP per capita stands at just $1500 — among the lowest in the world.&nbsp; This means that early first-adopters are first-time buyers, and the remaining customers in the market are more skeptical and less willing. But there are also those that are unlikely to consider the EV suitable to travel to off-road rural areas. For the average Nepali family, upgrading or purchasing a new car is no small decision. It happens in five years or more with resale values being a big determinant. The EV boom may be reaching saturation.&nbsp; Both NADA and NAIMA shows drove home the message that Nepal’s transport sector is on an electric fast-track, but the road ahead will be bumpy.&nbsp; Soon after the shows, the glacial debris flow on the Bhote Kosi knocked out the Rasuwa-Kerung border with China, and earlier landslides had already blocked the Koradi checkpoint. Manufacturers are now using the less convenient Korala border in Mustang. BYD, Leapmotor and Omoda &amp; Jaecoo have begun rerouting their vehicles to make up for delivery deadlines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_62fd70a476656062005959c247b38178d8efabf8570c73929295c0a103ff4013.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="2025101711108_62fd70a476656062005959c247b38178d8efabf8570c73929295c0a103ff4013" data-rendition-name="original" width="1438" height="1031" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Although the distance from the capital to the Korala border (470km) is four times longer than from Rasuwa (128km) &nbsp;and Tatopani (112km), it is still considered faster and more cost effective than shipping via India using sea routes.&nbsp; And then Nepal was engulfed in turmoil after the youth-led protests of 8-9 September and its aftermath. Many automobile showrooms around Thapathali including Tata, Hyundai and CG were vandalised and torched.&nbsp; Sushila Karki leads a caretaker government till elections are held in March, and the unsettled situation will affect the economy and investment climate as well as the automobile sector. Arnav Upadhyay reviews automobiles and promotes road safety under the handle Casually Annoyed Driver on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@casuallyannoyeddriver" target="_blank">Youtube</a>, <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@casuallyannoyeddriver" target="_blank">Tiktok</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/casuallyannoyeddriver/" target="_blank">IG</a>, and this monthly column Drive Line in Nepali Times.

Is Nepal reaching peak EV?

While the streets of Kathmandu were erupting violent GenZ protests that brought down the government, Nepal’s athletes were achieving different kinds of breakthroughs on Spain’s mountain trails and in the cricket qualifiers in the UAE.&nbsp; On 27 September, two weeks after the uprising back home, Nepal's cricket team stunned the sporting world with their first-ever victory against a full member nation — defeating two-time World Cup champions West Indies by 19 runs, then crushing them by 90 runs two days later to seal a historic 2-0 series victory. On that very day, 5,000km away in the Spanish Pyrenees Sunmaya Budha stood on a podium alongside American and European champions, clutching a silver medal from the 3rd World Mountain and Trail Running Championships. No Asian athlete had ever finished this high in the Long Trail competition at the World Championships. While youth back home showed they would not tolerate injustice and could carve their own future, young Nepalis were securing it on the global sports stage even in moments of national crisis.&nbsp; The Long Trail event at the 2025 World Championships was designed to break even the strongest athletes. Stretching 82km through the Spanish Pyrenees, the course features an unrelenting 5,413m of elevation gain and descent.&nbsp; Athletes faced everything from steep scree slopes to narrow ridge lines, from boulder fields requiring scrambling to precipitous descents demanding total concentration. One misstep could mean injury, one lapse in focus could cost precious minutes.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_81152b4754331c4858ed2d0d28204e6a92559faf089fea9ebc84156766ff228a.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025101909108_81152b4754331c4858ed2d0d28204e6a92559faf089fea9ebc84156766ff228a" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="731" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>The Nepal team at the World Championships 2025 with the final four: Sangge Sherpa, Sunmaya Budha, Suman Kulung, Man Kumar Roka Magar. Photo: PREETI KHATTRI</figcaption> </figure>  WOMEN'S COMPETITION Katie Schide (USA) - Winner • Time: 9:57:59 • Average pace: 7:18 per km&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sunmaya.budha.942">Sunmaya Budha </a>(Nepal) - Silver Medal • Time: 10:23:03 • Gap behind winner: 25 minutes and 4 seconds • Average pace: 7:36 per km Most recreational trail runners need 18-24 hours to complete this course, if they can finish it at all. Budha's pace means she was running at a speed that most casual runners could not maintain on a flat course, let alone while constantly climbing and descending mountains. MEN'S COMPETITION Jim Walmsley (USA) - Winner • Time: 8:35:11 • Average pace: 6:17 per kilometer (10:07 per mile) &nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/runnersumankulung">Suman Kulung (Nepal)</a> - 32nd Place • Time: 10:06:25 • Average pace: 7:24 per km • Finished 1 hour 31 minutes behind the winner • Best performance by an Asian male athlete &nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/rokamagarmankumar764">Man Kumar Roka Magar (Nepal)</a> - 37th Place • Time: 10:10:53 • Average pace: 7:27 per km • Finished just 4.5 minutes behind Kulung <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Yetimannnnn">Sangge Sherpa (Nepal)</a> - 116th Place • Time: 12:33:09 • Average pace: 9:11 per km  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_2255845b43e68b14d3b111099124f9c98898bbe9016299b9af278aca8b4377f7.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025101909108_2255845b43e68b14d3b111099124f9c98898bbe9016299b9af278aca8b4377f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="904" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>Sangge Sherpa organising himself post gear check in Can-Franc.</figcaption> </figure>  The men's winner averaged about 6:17/km on a course where elite mountain runners were struggling. Kulung and Roka Magar maintained a 7:24-7:27/km pace—faster than many recreational runners' easy flat road pace. They were faster than dozens of European athletes who train in the Alps. Even Sherpa's 9:11/km average pace over 12+ hours represents an extraordinary feat of endurance, maintaining forward progress on some of the most challenging mountain terrain in competitive trail running. “What set Budha apart was her exceptional descending ability. She recorded the fastest downhill speed among all women in the competition—a skill honed through years of training on Nepal’s steep mountain trails,” said her team director Ryan S Blair.&nbsp; Sunmaya Budha, ranked world 8th for 100km category events and 17th in the world by the International Trail Running Association (ITRA), entered the race having recently recovered from injuries to both legs.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_38d8bee04beaa6443480ecf4765e6b34f91d2d105128f292f73702072a820d25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025101909108_38d8bee04beaa6443480ecf4765e6b34f91d2d105128f292f73702072a820d25" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>Sunmaya storming in 2nd position. Photo: WMTRC2025 CANFRAC </figcaption> </figure>  While American Katie Schide dominated from the front, Budha found herself in an intense battle for second place with Italy's Fabiola Conti, a specialised skyrace and mountain marathon runner. The two runners remained locked together through much of the course, running side-by-side at key checkpoints and pushing each other through the mountain wilderness. In ultra-trail racing, where climbs are often win by fractions of minutes, the ability to descend fearlessly and efficiently can make the difference between podium positions. Budha's technical prowess on the descents gave her a advantage over her European competitors. The decisive moment came in the final 20km. At the 65km mark, Budha held a 90-second lead over Conti. By 71.5km she had extended her advantage to eight minutes — a commanding gap she maintained to the finish. In a powerful display of national pride, she approached the finish wrapped in the Nepali flag, showing the world what Himalayan athletes can achieve on the global stage. Said Preeti Khattri, team lead for Nepal: "Standing right beside the USA and European peer. Proud. No Asian athletes have ever made it this far.” MEN, TOO While Budha captured headlines with her silver medal, the performances of Suman Kulung and Man Kumar Roka Magar were equally significant. Both athletes topped Asian athletes and numerous European competitors. Suman Kulung delivered a performance that demonstrated extraordinary mental toughness and racing intelligence. What makes his 32nd place finish even more impressive is that 1.5km he encountered a severe bottleneck on narrow technical trails.&nbsp; This critical delay pushed him back to around 92nd position—a devastating setback in a world championship race where every second counts. Many athletes would have been demoralised by such an early disaster.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_e2f358723ea8abaa262e749a4c6afb0a179cf9f3e0bb4eab1d973e25b9b00f09.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025101909108_e2f358723ea8abaa262e749a4c6afb0a179cf9f3e0bb4eab1d973e25b9b00f09" data-rendition-name="original" width="668" height="445" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>Suman Kulung coming through 65km Assisted Checkpoint. Photo: DR SIGRID FOUNDATION</figcaption> </figure>  But Kulung showed why he is Nepal's top-ranked trail runner: he launched a spectacular comeback. By the 30km mark, he had charged through the field to reach approximately 20th position — recovering over 70 places in less than 30km.&nbsp; His final time of 10:06:25 placed him ahead of runners from traditional mountain running powers including Switzerland, Austria, and Germany, and was the highest-finishing Asian male athlete in the competition.

Nepali runners score breakthroughs

Edmund Hillary once said that the Sherpa were the most researched, dissected and blood-taken ethnic group in the world. Living below the highest mountains in the world, the trans-Himalayan traders were genetically adapted to high altitude, their culture spanning both sides of the border, and with average per capita income of the Khumbu five times that of the rest of Nepal. But there are other less-known Sherpas in Nepal’s periphery: in the Langtang, Barun and Rolwaling valleys.&nbsp; Norwegian mountaineer Jon Gangdal’s latest book, Guilt &amp; Glory: Climbing with Sherpas is about his deep personal and four-decade long association with his climbing partners from Rolwaling. Guilt &amp; Glory reads more like Gangdal’s memoir and the mountains he has climbed, but it is also a tribute to the selfless friendship with fellow climbers from Nepal. It also exposes the inherently asymmetric relationship between expeditions and their employees in the Himalaya. Earlier mountaineering narratives overlooked the role of Nepal’s climbing guides in putting their clients on summits. But in recent years there has been increasing recognition that most expeditions would just not be possible without them. SUMMIT SUPPORT And that is where Gangdal’s book fits in: between the glory of a successful summit and guilt about not giving due credit to the sacrifice and professionalism of a people whose surname and ethnicity is now a synonym for support staff of G-7 Summits. After failure and tragedy on a 1994 expedition on Everest West Ridge in which his climbing partner Mingma Norbu was killed in an avalanche, Gangdal is tormented by guilt and supports his widow Ang Sona and her family. ‘The Art of Succeeding When You Have Failed’ was the title of his lecture series in which Gangdal became an outspoken critic of military-style assaults on Himalayan peaks, and self-seeking climbers on them. In a comment he wrote for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/everest-dangerous-place-to-work,1316" target="_blank">Nepali Times in #704 in 2014 </a>after an avalanche killed 16 Nepali guides on the Khumbu Icefall, he argued that equality and safety of climbing Sherpas could only happen ‘if we turn the whole Everest pyramid upside down’. He wrote: ‘We can feel nothing but grief and pain with the families of the brave boys who gave their lives for … for what? For the glory of their nation, like at war? For the glory of their attention-seeking sahibs who have had the highest mountains in the world as their playground for more than a century? Or for what we all have to do: our daily duty to feed ourselves and our families.’ Guilt &amp; Glory expands on that theme, weaving in his climbing adventures. He realises that the egalitarian Norwegian approach in decision-making does not work in the East’ where the prevalent notion is that a leader should lead. Gangdal notes that with a few tweaks, the twain of East and West can indeed meet. In 1996 on the north face of Everest while a major tragedy was unfolding on the Nepal side, Gangdal tries to ‘play Sherpa’ hauling twice the load of his Sherpa companions and is knocked out with exhaustion and has to abandon the climb. Climbers have often justified not helping fellow climbers in distress in the Death Zone saying that ethics at sea level do not apply at eight thousand metres high on a mountain. But Gangdal quotes expedition doctor Morten Rostrup: ‘When you pass climbers who are sick or in danger on the way to the summit, you should always do something … continuing to the summit shows a lack of humanity.’ Foreign climbers are on top of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and in a monastery below Manaslu, Gangdal once held a long one-sided discussion with the abbott on why people’s basic needs need to be met before higher aspirations can be pursued. The asymmetry in the relation between sahibs and porters is less glaring than it used to be. Many mountaineers have struck life-long friendships with bonds with their employees and their families in Nepal. And, as Gangdal writes, ‘Education … has helped reduce the asymmetry between the Sherpa people and us foreign climbers.’ Unlike other books about Himalayan mountaineering &nbsp;this one focuses on the Rolwaling, the less visited and wilder valley in the shadow of Gauri Shankar, and protected by the goddess Tseringma.&nbsp; Noted Rolwaling Sherpas include Chhiring Dorje who made the heroic rescue on K2 in 2008, Dawa Yangzum, the first Nepali woman to summit all 14 eight-thousanders, Tamting Sherpa who has also climbed all 8,000m peaks, TGemba Tsheri who became the youngest person to climb Everst at age 16 in 2001. <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/power-of-the-periphery/deep-ecologists/75228182BC490F8AC31C8E4C8335F435" target="_blank">Rolwaling also has a strong Norwegian connection</a>, it is where <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2009/jan/15/obituary-arne-naess" target="_blank">Arne Næss</a> who coined the term ‘deep ecology’, and mountaineer and eco-philosopher <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/norway-nepal-a-love-story" target="_blank">Sigmund Kvaløy</a> did their research and exploration in 1971.&nbsp; There is one interesting tidbit with contemporary non-mountaineering relevance from Guilt &amp; Glory: Næss and Kvaløy’s Rowaling research was bankrolled by Arne’s brother Erling Dekke Næss, a Norwegian shipping magnate. But Rolwaling was a restricted area in those days because of Khampa activity, and the Norwegians approached Prince Gyanendra who granted them permission in return for setting up the Royal Nepal Shipping Corporation. Gyanendra became chair of that controversial company and Erling Næss was adviser. Guilt &amp; Glory is not just about mountaineering, and is sprinkled with anecdotes and encounters with everything from Maoists to yetis. It is written with compassion and a deep respect for Nepal and its people.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111028_3fd1da00a1362a6c3f07807ec55b9e5d9163c11fb759aa09530a5ea486751d24.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251017111028_3fd1da00a1362a6c3f07807ec55b9e5d9163c11fb759aa09530a5ea486751d24" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Guilt &amp; Glory book"> </figure>

West meets East in the Himalaya

In 2004, Poet Durga Lal Shrestha asked me to translate 223 little poems from Newa into English. They were each written as sestet-- terse in their form but heavy in imagery and sentiment. The novice translator in me struggled to find the best way to convey his poetry in English-- but the process became a tour as I discovered my mother tongue anew. The highlight, however, was Shrestha’s handwriting. His calligraphy is immaculate. He had given me photocopies from the notebook he had written the poems in and each page looked as though they were freshly out of the press. The letters bore a consistency, unswayed by the emotions of his poetry. Sometimes, I would just stare at the handwriting in admiration.&nbsp; Someone else had been similarly besotted by his writing: “I met him 25 years ago in the UK when he was the chief guest at a Mha Puja event organised by Pasa Pucha,” recollects Ojesh Singh, writer and engineer. “We were roommates. I noticed he couldn’t stop writing.”&nbsp; Shrestha, an octogenarian now, was a teacher at Kanya Mandir School for many years, where his writing was admired by colleagues and students. Known as Janakavi or People’s Poet, a title bestowed on him by the Nepal Bhasha Parishad, Shrestha is also the recipient of the Jagadamba Shree Puraskar for his contribution to literature.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071052_b109f2ee6dbac911fb8002e8e8bb33a50a8f755d26662f333535d32c8573e782.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251021071052_b109f2ee6dbac911fb8002e8e8bb33a50a8f755d26662f333535d32c8573e782" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> <figcaption>From left to right: Suman Shrestha, Ananda Kumar Maharjan, Durga Lal Shrestha, Ojesh Singh, and Arbindra Man Singh. Photo: SUCHITA SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  “He would write on anything he could lay his hands on. On tissue paper, envelopes, cigarette boxes. It struck me how neat and tidy his writing was,” says Singh. “The structure and size were perfectly in sync-- and as an aspiring graphic designer then, I fell in love with his writing. Later, whenever I read his books, I thought it would be nice to read them in his writing.” After sitting with the notion of turning Shrestha’s writing into a digital font for years, in 2024, he reached out to a small group of people who he thought might be allies.&nbsp; “It was during Ojesh Ji’s book launch that we met and talked about the possibility of turning Durga Lal Shrestha’s writing into font,” recalls Ananda Kumar Maharjan, who has designed the Durga Lal Shrestha font and is affiliated with Callijatra, an organisation promoting Newa calligraphy.&nbsp; For Singh, the desire to immortalise the poet's handwriting wasn’t only coming from personal admiration, it was also about preserving the writing of a language and literature leader and activist. He offered to fund the font project, which meant paying for Maharjan’s time and dedication. He also drew into the conversation Shrestha’s son Suman, who has been an integral part of the process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071056_372dc34ac3ce3b70445128131a11ade8f321756c6cc7615825c4451e85f56374.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251021071056_372dc34ac3ce3b70445128131a11ade8f321756c6cc7615825c4451e85f56374" data-rendition-name="original" width="616" height="728" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  The others involved in the process were journalist Arbindra Man Singh, who had been scanning Shrestha’s writing for the book Hastakshar, a collection of poems printed in the author’s handwriting. Also an enthusiast of converting Shrestha’s writing to a font, Singh provided help in bringing together the scans, based on which Maharjan picked the best letter for each alphabet to create a complete set.&nbsp; “Doing this was different from other font developments I have done in the past,” explains Maharjan, who has also digitised his own handwriting into a font, called Anand. “To create Durga Lal Shrestha’s writing as font, I had to analyse his writing archive and pick the best.”&nbsp; He adds: “There was a book published in his writing, so there were scans and digital archiving done by Arbindra Ji, which became the foundation for my work.” He had to find a prototype for each alphabet based on the scans. He traced the letters on Illustrator and copied them to a MAC software called Glyphs where he had to enter each letter, using a traditional Devanagari keyboard instead of Unicode.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025102108100_2f6b8c0f3cf91682707ac356e11ad50b342a4198f56490ab68d041e875b15edb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025102108100_2f6b8c0f3cf91682707ac356e11ad50b342a4198f56490ab68d041e875b15edb" data-rendition-name="original" width="818" height="766" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  “I had to be very careful to keep it accurate. Conjunctions need attention,” Maharjan says. “There are half letters, saint letters, ligatures and open type features to pay attention to, this is more advanced than the fonts I’ve created in the past.” &nbsp; Maharjan has designed this font in three different variations that users can play with. “Writing changes with age. While young, people write better, but with age, it starts to change. Since Durga Lal Shrestha hasn’t been very well lately, his hand shakes when he writes. So, we had to pick the best of his writing from the records,” he adds. “People also tend to write in different styles depending on their mood so we took the best four of every letter and traced and picked one.”&nbsp; Handwriting is deeply intimate and in this day and age of tech, becoming lost.&nbsp; What bothers me about the day of phones is that I no longer know what the writing of those close to me look like. I no longer know how you press the pen between our fingers or how you tilt it against the paper or how you pause to write periods or how the nib makes a perfect tiny orb before you drag it just so, to turn it into a comma. The familiarity of the nuances of someone’s writing is lost on us.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071056_2c83ab2c3ed4cfa42e6a6a637d88fd879218fb5b7391e086ab5db1a8ec173654.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251021071056_2c83ab2c3ed4cfa42e6a6a637d88fd879218fb5b7391e086ab5db1a8ec173654" data-rendition-name="original" width="992" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  Ojesh Singh agrees with me. He says it’s important to keep handwriting alive as people become more and more tech-dependent. People are likely to interact even less with letters on paper, but at least we can have fonts, he says.&nbsp; A set of six books by poet Durga Lal Shrestha is set to be launched on 31October. One of them, entitled, Kawa, is typeset in the Durga Lal Shrestha Font. The font will be made available to the general public after the books have been released. In July, I had visited Shrestha, who I also call Durga Lal Taaba, as many Newa people in my generation do. Seated in the quiet of his home, he conversed about literature and language with my father and my uncle. Coming out of Taaba, Newa, which has a utilitarian function for me to communicate with my parents, sounded more like a lyric.&nbsp; I asked him what he thinks about his handwriting being archived as a font. He replied: “This body is going to be gone eventually, so I thought maybe my handwriting could live on.” Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people in Pratibha’s life.

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Digitising the savant calligrapher