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

Many of us former Nepal Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) would agree that our time in Nepal changed in significant but very different ways our perspectives on life if not the future paths we chose to follow. Of no one was this truer than Dorothy Mierow. Dorothy was born in 1920, in Colorado Springs. Her father Charles C Mierow was a classics scholar and Latin professor, who served for ten years as president of Colorado College.&nbsp; Dorothy developed an interest in animals as a child, graduated with a BA degree in natural history from Carlton College in 1942, a Master’s in biology from the University of Pittsburgh, and another Master’s in geography from the University of Minnesota.&nbsp; As a young woman, Dorothy traveled with her father throughout Europe, including a visit to ancient Greek ruins, and took a Magellan Tour by cruise ship around the world in 1958.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262" data-rendition-name="original" width="903" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>HOME AWAY FROM HOME: Dorothy Mierow as a college student in her native Colorado.</figcaption> </figure>  She was a college teacher during much of the 1940s, also teaching at a girls’ school in Hawaii. Then back to her native Colorado in 1953, where she became a curator and later director of the Colorado College Natural History Museum. She taught geography classes, and in her free time, Dorothy climbed 22 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. Traveling in India in 1960, Dorothy decided to spend two weeks in Nepal. In late 1961, she filled out an application to join the Peace Corps and specified that she wanted to go to Nepal, ‘because I admired the people so much when my father and I were there on our trip’.&nbsp; Dorothy reached Kathmandu in September 1962 as the first group of American Peace Corps volunteers in Nepal. She stood out from the others: one of the few women in that group, surely the oldest at age 41, a world traveler, and a woman who already had established a professional career.&nbsp; One doubts if Dorothy had had a husband and children whether she would ever have gone to work and spend much of the rest of her life in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515" data-rendition-name="original" width="1259" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="How th Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life NT"> <figcaption>Pokhara Bazar in 1962.</figcaption> </figure>  The Peace Corps assigned Dorothy to teach geography at Tri-Chandra College. After the school closed in the winter due to lack of heating, USAID and the College of Education asked Dorothy to help train general science teachers.&nbsp; She taught for two months and became involved in a textbook-writing project, commenting: ‘I would like the children to know something about public health, conservation (the trees are going fast and so is the soil), and learn the names of some of their common birds, trees, and flowers. They are more impressed with electricity, airplanes, and cell structure.’ When a new college opened in Pokhara in 1963, Dorothy was transferred there and lived with a Nepali family. The college boasted 30 students and no permanent buildings.&nbsp; In October 1963, Dorothy wrote: ‘Pokhara is a town of almost 5,000 people … We are in a fertile valley surrounded by foothills … There is a small Mission Hospital … a Leper Hospital and Tibetan Refugee Camp started by the Red Cross and now run by the Swiss. With winter approaching, more Tibetans are appearing in town, often with pack horses or donkeys. Some have been carrying large boxes of powdered milk,donated (by USAID) to the camp from the airport … There is no electricity, and the transportation problems make many items scarce and expensive. I am really a sort of a museum. The landlord brings all kinds of people in to see how I live and count my shoes and dresses. They express amazement at my books, pictures, tin oven, Nepali dolls from Kathmandu, screened food shelves and curtained closet.’ The standard term for Peace Corps volunteers was two years, but Dorothy extended her term and was still at Prithvi Narayan College at the end of 1965, when she wrote that she had 20 Geography students in the first-year class and 6 in the second year preparing for the IA Examination. The college enrollment was 125 students, and the foundation for a new science building was being excavated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow and friends at Phewa Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy noted that she ate one meal a day at the (Shining Mission) Hospital but otherwise lived on dal-bhat, momo, and potato curry at local shops. However, she had developed a new passion: to build what she initially called the Pokhara Museum of the Himalaya. In commendable Peace Corps fashion, Dorothy always worked with Nepalis and respected the culture. ‘The greatest joy and satisfaction I have had has been from the building of a Museum-Library in memory of my parents … It has been possible to feel like a wealthy benefactor with the money saved by father for the family’s education and now available for the education of others… (Father) would have loved to be in on the founding of a new college and be able to plan a library. Several hundred of the books to be in the museum-library came from his collection and were carefully selected to be of use for students in Nepal…’&nbsp; ‘The museum part is to satisfy my own inclinations and was thought of when I found how little diversion there was for the people of Pokhara… It is part of the University requirements for the college that it should have a geography and biology museum. The museum building is small but adequate.&nbsp; I have tried to design it in harmony with Nepalese architecture and decorate it with some of the art of the best artists or woodcarvers… Posts holding up the porch roof are carved by Cottage Industries to represent different peoples of Nepal in typical costumes. The door was carved by a local wood carver and has typical birds of Nepal around it. Inside are 10 roof-support carvings designed by the retired Director of the National Museum in Kathmandu, Mr. C.M. Maskey.&nbsp; They were carved by the best wood carvers in Patan very skilfully. The building has three rooms: the library, the exhibition room, and a smaller workroom which can be used by our newly formed Woman’s Club as well as other groups or classes.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8" data-rendition-name="original" width="629" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow with local women in Pokhara in 1969.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy promoted her project to influential Nepalis connected with organisations whose support she solicited: The Department of Archaeology, the Department of Agriculture, the Godavari Botanical Gardens; Tribhuvan University’s Science and Education Department, Nature Conservation Society.&nbsp; The museum was opened officially in early 1967. The Annapurna Natural History Museum, the building Dorothy designed and had constructed, is still open and features some exhibits which she created many years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>The Annapurna Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy returned to America in 1967, but she longed for Nepal. In the spring of 1969, she again tried to enroll as a Peace Corps volunteer but was told that as she had spent more than four years, she would not be eligible for another assignment. Undeterred, she persuaded the college in Pokhara to invite her to return as a teacher.&nbsp; UNICEF and the Forestry Department sponsored Dorothy to prepare charts on trees, birds, animals and flowers in colour for distribution to the schools of Nepal. Dorothy, back in the Peace Corps, returned to Pokhara and the Museum in 1972. She formed a friendship with her former geography student from Sikles, Chandra Prasad Gurung, and in 1974, she brought Chandra to America, where he enrolled in Colorado College and studied cultural anthropology.&nbsp; Chandra subsequently earned his PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii and returned to Pokhara to become director of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project. Gurung actively promoted ecotourism, landscape conservation, and biodiversity conservation in Nepal. His life was cut short along with those of 23 other Nepalis and foreigners who perished in a helicopter crash near Taplejung in September 2006.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow's four books on Nepal and its biodiversity. </figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy worked with several well-known Nepalis to publish her paintings and photos in beautifully illustrated books. She and Hemanta Mishra of the National Parks and Wildlife Service wrote Wild Animals of Nepal (Ratna Pustak Bhandar, 1976). More than 400 photos Dorothy took on treks to the Everest region, Gosaikunda, Muktinath, Jumla and Rara Lake, as well as travels in the Tarai, appeared in Himalayan Flowers and Trees (Sahayogi Prakashan, 1978).&nbsp; The botanist Tirtha Bahadur Shrestha identified the species. Dorothy and Kesar Lall published This Beautiful Nepal (Sahayogi Press, 1981). Birds of the Central Himalayas (1988) contained Dorothy’s paintings of 250 species of birds found along the areas of the Kali Gandaki River, Pokhara, Chitwan and the central Tarai. Dorothy summed up her life and work in Nepal in Thirty Years in Pokhara (Pilgrims Book House, 1997). Dorothy returned to Pokhara and her adopted Gurung family several times during the 1980s and 1990s to celebrate festivals and meet old friends. Her final years were spent at her mountain cottage in Green Mountain Falls north of Colorado Springs. She died at the age of 79 in August, 2000. Nepal gave new meaning and purpose to Dorothy Mierow’s life. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. The author thanks Special Collections, Tutt Library, Colorado College.

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

· On the night of 15 May, two glacial lakes burst in Tharka in Humla and the debris flow washed away homes and bridges.&nbsp; · Last week, a slurry surge on the Kali Gandaki in Upper Mustang caused at least Rs15 million in damage, and was traced to a melting glacier. · Dozens are feared dead after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">an expanding glacial lake in Tibet overflowed</a>, sweeping down into Nepal and damaging four hydropower plants generating 230MW, nearly 8% of the country’s total grid supply.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2667" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Rasuwa flood"> <figcaption>Miteri friendship bridge connecting Nepal and China was swept away in the Rasuwa flood. Photo: PRAKASH CHANDRA TIMILSENA / NPL</figcaption> </figure>  And those are just in the past month. Climate scientists say Himalayan glacial lake outbursts are becoming more frequent and destructive, and a warning for Nepal not to put all its eggs in the hydropower basket.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">Record precipitation last September</a> unleashed floods that killed 200 people, and temporarily slashed Nepal’s total generation capacity of 3,000MW by nearly half. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">Melamchi flood of 2021</a> caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">permafrost melting</a> on a glacier upstream nearly destroyed a $800 million water supply scheme, Nepal’s largest infrastructure project which four years later still has not resumed full operation. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">glacial lake overflow in Sikkim</a> caused by record rainfall in September 2023 that destroyed the $1.2 billion Chungthung Dam and caused catastrophic damage to infrastructure on the Teesta River. This was a warning to the cascade of hydropower plants on the Arun and Marsyangdi river basins.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="549" loading="lazy" alt="hydro disasters and hydropower plants"> </figure>  Nepal has set a target of generating an additional 28,500MW by 2035 -- out of the feasible 48,000MW -- but how viable is an energy strategy that is exposed to heightened risk due to climate breakdown? &nbsp; “As extreme weather events increase, we must design and build infrastructures respecting river flow and topography,” says former Energy Secretary Dwarika Nath Dhungel. “We must make the best use of our water resources, but not by letting excavators loose everywhere mining riverbeds and building haphazardly where we shouldn’t.”&nbsp; Although no project can be disaster-proof, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">climate smart design</a> can minimise damage from flash floods and landslides. Recent disasters have driven up insurance premiums for energy projects in Nepal, and smaller ones cannot even afford them. The 456MW Upper Tamakosi hydroelectric project which is still not fully functional after the September floods has claimed insurance worth Rs1.8 billion. The alternative to high risk high investment hydropower projects is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">energy diversification</a> to other renewables such as solar, wind or biogas. Nepal gets annual sunlight of 300 days with 6-7 hours on average to total 50,000 terawatt-hours (TWh) per year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="solar power"> <figcaption>Farmers in Tarai using solar powered water pump. Photo: GHAMPOWER</figcaption> </figure>  The Solar and Wind Energy Resource Assessment (SWERA) calculates that Nepal could source 3,000MW from wind energy alone, considering 10% of the area with more than 300W/m2 wind power density. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Solar energy</a> stations are cheaper and quicker to build, and would be an ideal alternative to reliance on hydropower.&nbsp; “There has been some investment in solar power, especially from the state sector,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “But there is an issue of land acquisition since the arrays need a lot of space. It is comparatively easier to get a permit to put up a hydropower plant on a river.” As for biogas, there is simply no incentive to build on past success with household level plants to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">promote industrial-scale production</a>. Scaling up biogas by integrating it with urban biodegradable waste would still be a viable alternative to LPG.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684" data-rendition-name="original" width="1419" height="954" loading="lazy" alt="windmill"> <figcaption>A wind mill in Hapsikot in Nawalpur. Photo: WINPOWER NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s public sphere is buzzing with excitement over the discovery of potentially 430 billion cubic metres of methane gas beneath Dailekh district that, if properly harnessed, would meet the country’s energy demand for the next 50 years. Even though a feasibility study is awaited, politicians from the prime minister down see this as a petro bonanza that will make Nepal rich. But drilling, storage and distribution of CNG in the country’s current kleptocratic state make that unlikely. If Nepal was to get rich solely on its hydro-energy potential, it could have done so in the past 50 years. Says Dhungel: “This is not exactly a new discovery, but it is premature to celebrate until its extraction is proven to be cost effective. And let us hope it does not get <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/balance-of-power">tangled in geopolitics</a>, since China is involved in the prospecting and drilling, which could make India uneasy.”&nbsp; The country suffers from the Dutch Disease curse even before its resource is fully exploited. And the same cronyism, corruption and rent-seeking structure cannot deliver the riches we expect from Dailekh’s methane discovery. Now, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">with hydropower in jeopardy</a>, Nepal’s planners will have to evolve a new strategy for energy security into the future. But first, governance needs to be cleaned up with long-term strategic planning that takes climate risk into account. For example, do we need to mine fossil gas when there are renewable options? Will Dailekh take Nepal away from its climate commitments? Says Madhukar Upadhyay: “Nepal has always been resource rich and management poor. And the larger the resource, the bigger our management incapacity. It is a societal malaise.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s Resource Curse

चौतारा rest stops have long been an integral part of scenic touristic town of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-six-decades-ago">Pokhara </a>but are now rarely seen as the city bursts at the seams. They say inhabitants of Pokhara saw a plane before they saw cars. Indeed, the grass airfield was built in the 1950s, while the Kathmandu highway 20 years later. Before roads, people walked to get around, pausing to rest or even nap under the shade of banyan-pipal trees. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-s-desperation-and-hope">Pokhara airport’</a>s ‘terminal’ in those days was a shady chautara where passengers waited for their flights. The chautara bore silent witness to daily life, whether it was travellers seeking a brief respite from the summer heat or villagers gathering for a chat in the mornings and evenings. But with the roads came vehicles, and then houses started filling up spaces, even farmlands. Pokhara began transforming from a serene village to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-comes-alive-at-night">bustling city</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2147" height="1581" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  The banyan-pipal trees were chopped down to make way for wider intersections and buildings. The once-iconic rest stops that carried Pokhara’s identity had all but vanished. “Building chautara was once considered a religious duty, which is why so many of them were constructed across Pokhara,” says archivist Sunil Ulak. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, a Japanese Buddhist monk, who visited Nepal 120 years ago en route to Tibet, documented <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-visitors-in-pokhara-to-admire-view">the landscape of Pokhara</a> and its surroundings. In his book, Three Years in Tibet, he reflects on the natural beauty of the town and its shady trees. A chautara used to be surrounded by ponds, where shepherds would bring their cattle to drink from while they took a nap under the shade. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze lent a soothing melody as did the chirping of birds, while the insects took refuge in the branches and leaves. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-800-years-ago">Pokhara 800 years ago</a>, Kunda Dixit This ‘nature’s breeze’, as botanist Kalyan Panta puts it, is now history due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">haphazard urbanisation</a>. “When the wind strikes against one leaf, it creates a domino effect and other leaves start waving as well,” he explains. There were 632 chautara in the city until 1977, and by 2000 the number had fallen to 278. But in some wards the number of trees fell from 55 in 1984 to only five now.&nbsp; The gradual loss of these resting places has meant habitat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">destruction of birds and insects</a>, it has also damaged the environment and natural beauty of the city.&nbsp; Researcher Jagannath Adhikari’s study showed that infrastructure projects ignored the environment, and concluded that that urbanisation in Pokhara was unsustainable.&nbsp; The destruction continues to this day. Recently, old chaurata in wards 6, 13 and 14 were cleared to make way for a sacrificial ritual. In fact, ward 6 got a permit from the local government to clear its remaining trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  But in wards 13 and 14, the Human Service Foundation cut down some 33 trees for which it is in a dispute with the metropolitan city as there is no unclear jurisdiction regarding who gives the permit. The Kaski Division Forest Office is currently investigating the matter. Elsewhere in ward 19, the ward office had launched ‘मेरो रूख, म काट्छु’ campaign due to an alleged chaos caused by monkeys in the area. The decision was rescinded after an all-around opposition.&nbsp; To be sure, there are policies in place to protect trees such as the Gandaki Province Forestry Act, 2080, and the Regulations, 2081. The province government also introduced an act in 2019 per which no tree, including pipal, silk cotton and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/trees-trees?%2F">trees of natural and historical importance</a> shall be damaged, eroded or removed. But the local government, responsible for implementing the Act, is doing the opposite. “If this rapid rate of tree felling continues, neither trees nor chautara will survive for the future generation,” conservationist Ram Bahadur Poudel tells us, adding that old trees are being cleared under the pretext of pruning branches. Interestingly, Ulak notes that Pokhara-8 was called सिमलचौर in the past because there were so many majestic silk cotton trees, but there are very few left, if any, and hence altering the identity of a place. With modernisation, people have questioned the significance of chautara in this day and age. But they still have relevance. Urban centres in Pokhara and Kathmandu are much hotter than the outskirts because of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">urban heat island effect</a>. Says archivist Ulak: “While their original purpose was to provide rest, today they continue to play a crucial role in regulating temperature, beautifying the city, and preserving our environment.”

Trees of life and living

Nepalis are living longer than ever. By 2028, the country is set to join the ranks of other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">ageing societies</a> around the world, and by 2054, 1 out of every 7 people in Nepal will be over 65. Life expectancy at birth has risen dramatically from just 55 in 1990 to 71 today, &nbsp;thanks to improvements in public health and access. But as more people live longer, the country must also prepare for a parallel rise in age-related illnesses and the complex social and medical needs that come with an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">ageing population</a>. Extended families have always acted as a safety net for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/home-sweet-home-for-older-nepalis">the elderly</a>, with children and grandchildren shouldering most caregiving duties. But with more than 1,600 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Nepalis migrating </a>every day, older parents are left behind with no one to care for them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">Remittances</a> from migrating youth, which account for nearly a third of Nepal’s GDP, have kept the economy afloat. But money sent home cannot make up for the chronic departure of kin and caregivers, who are often the first to catch the signs and symptoms of disease in elders. In rural areas where over 85% of Nepal’s elderly live, the absence of this daily vigilance means early signs of illness often go unnoticed until they become debilitating. As a result, chronic conditions like hypertension, diabetes, and depression are left unmanaged.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="701" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Geriatric medicine is largely absent from medical curricula and there is no national plan in place to manage cognitive decline, memory loss and confusion. These are often mistaken for signs of normal ageing, instead of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dementia-brings-new-problem-that-families-have-little%20knowledge-of,2151">dementia</a>, delaying care until it is too late. The same pattern plays out with strokes, osteoarthritis, and vision problems — conditions that could be managed early but are instead allowed to spiral into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-disability-to-this-ability-h68f6sq2">disability</a>. Nepal is not ready for an older future. It needs a strategy for ‘smart ageing’ where the focus is not adding years to life, but enhancing years lived through the intelligent application of policy, infrastructure, and crucially, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a>. Many models of smart ageing, however, are sculpted around modern societies where independent living in later life is the norm. Furthermore, eroding traditional family care and an underdeveloped formal care system means there is a large gap that can’t simply be filled by copy-pasting from foreign models. Nepal must shape its own version of smart ageing. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes?%2F">tech boom</a> has led to homegrown digital healthcare apps such as Hamro Doctor, Cura Health, Jeevee and Health Yaad Ayo which offer teleconsultations, online appointments, and at-home test bookings. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-new-digital-landscape">smartphones and internet access</a> extend to the most rural fringes of the Nepali countryside, geography is no longer a barrier to the use of these digital tools. What limits their use is the lack of digital proficiency among the older generation. Others find the idea of turning to a device instead of a familiar, reassuring face unfathomable. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">digital literacy</a> efforts must be paired with guided human support to build trust alongside technical skill. Such a model of community-led digital mediation is already gaining traction elsewhere. In the UK, ‘digital health ambassadors’—often young people or even schoolchildren—are trained to co-design and advocate for online platforms that resonate with peers who might otherwise feel excluded from automated health services. A Nepali version could engage cohorts of nursing students, tech-savvy youngsters and returnee migrants to assist elders in navigating digital health platforms and troubleshooting problems, and most of all, normalising the idea of health apps being a reliable recourse.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2246" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Nepal’s own network of Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), whose credibility is rooted in long-standing relationships across rural communities, could be similarly upskilled, their roles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">maternal and child health </a>expanded and repurposed to also include geriatric tech support. However, there is a limit to how much older adults can adapt to new technologies. So, Nepal should simultaneously invest in passive technologies—tools that monitor and act for the elderly, instead of demanding active use. That is where wearables and in-home smart health devices collectively known as 'gerontechnology' come in. Picture an 82-year-old in far-flung Rolpa, away from the facilities of an urban hospital. Installed in her home are low-cost motion sensors that monitor prolonged inactivity or signs of a fall, instantly triggering alerts to the nearest health post when necessary. On her wrist, a wearable bracelet continuously tracks her sleep, vital signs, oxygen saturation, and glucose levels. This data is encrypted and synced to a digital dashboard accessible by health staff at the local post. If the system flags an acute risk—such as a potential stroke or hypoglycemia—a nearby health worker is dispatched immediately to her home. If her readings over time indicate a trend toward a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure">chronic condition</a> like diabetes, community health volunteers step in. They help schedule a virtual consultation with an endocrinologist in Butwal. Based on the advice received, she gets a prescription and picks up her medication from the local community pharmacy, along with a smart dispenser to ensure she sticks to her treatment plan without missing doses. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. Many of the individual devices forming this connected medical system called an Internet of Medical Things (IoMT) already exist in Nepal as imported commercial products. What is missing is a stronger framework for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/public-health-partnership">public-private collaboration</a>: one where health tech companies continue developing locally adapted tools, and the government actively integrates these innovations into public health delivery. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">Nepal’s tech ecosystem</a> is maturing, but policymaking must evolve in tandem, especially when it affects an older generation largely resistant to change. The backlash against the recent mandate requiring National Identity Cards for accessing social security benefits revealed the pitfalls of imposing top-down reforms without adequate preparation or support for seniors. For Nepalis to age well, community caregivers, doctors, innovators, and above all, the state, must step in where families have stepped away. The goal is not to replicate traditional care, but to build a coordinated system of support that connects everyone through technology. The future is older for Nepal, let us be wiser too. The writers are pursuing their undergraduate studies in biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

overseas-nepali

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Sons of their fathers

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Nepal’s Resource Curse

Trees of life and living

Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier