This is the 56th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Heera Tirwa</h2> I was just 13 when I married an India-born Nepali from Achham. &nbsp;An arranged marriage, I first saw my husband only at the wedding ceremony. I moved to India from Achham when I was so young that I associate my childhood with Mumbai instead of Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100124_fcc447c7d7436ff80312e71a4cfcdbaae9610dff932ec2398c57c75eb256fa19.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250110100124_fcc447c7d7436ff80312e71a4cfcdbaae9610dff932ec2398c57c75eb256fa19" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="4284" loading="lazy" alt="Heera Tirwa"> </figure>  My father, also a watchman in Maharashtra, did not visit us when my children were born despite living just a 10-hour drive away. I had to accept the fact that my mother who was in Nepal would not visit me, but my father’s absence hurt. I wrote a letter reminding him that his responsibility as a father does not end simply because he married me off. Navigating new responsibilities at such a tender age far away from home, I needed his attention. My father then visited us and lifted my spirits. Years have passed, filled with both happy and sad moments. &nbsp;Access to education, health, jobs and road networks is better here. But the cost of living is high and making ends meet is difficult, especially in single-income households. That is why I also work full time at a company that makes nuts and bolts. We are so invested in our children’s education and future that we overlook all the hurdles in life. In the old days, someone’s departure from the village to Mumbai would draw a crowd, with people asking them to deliver letters and gifts to their loved ones. This flow of people between our villages and Mumbai ensured we were up to date with news including of childbirths, marriages and deaths on either side, despite the absence of phones and internet. I still cannot believe it took me 13 years to make my first trip back to Achham from Mumbai. It was a reunion filled with tears and embraces, especially with my mother, much like my departure years ago. <h2>Chandra Singh</h2> I grew up in Doti. My mother passed away when I was around four years old, so my five siblings and I pretty much raised ourselves. Even at that age, I took care of my younger siblings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100128_a03c86a5cf2d7fd396d331b54114613fdd4350ec89aef8f0d150fb3ccb364369.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250110100128_a03c86a5cf2d7fd396d331b54114613fdd4350ec89aef8f0d150fb3ccb364369" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="4284" loading="lazy" alt="Chandra Singh "> </figure>  I do not know exactly when I came to India from Doti, it must have been over 40 years ago. But I vividly remember weeping non-stop till I reached Dhangadi en route to Mumbai with my new family. The next time I visited Doti was years later, accompanied by my three children. My father-in-law worked as a watchman in Mumbai. My husband, who is no more, was born here and also worked as a watchman. &nbsp;Many Nepalis like my father-in-law who had permanent jobs moved their families to India. Housework including taking care of my grandchildren and elderly mother-in-law keeps me busy, but I continue to work as a part-time household help for an Indian family. I mop and wash dishes which provides me some spare cash to supplement my sons’ earnings. Back in our village in Nepal, one can rely on agriculture and livestock to sustain ourselves. There are social networks to lean on during difficult times. One can borrow or even beg. You won’t go hungry. Someone or the other will check on you. Here in the city, all you have is your hard work to rely on. You can eat only if you work hard. <h2>Kamala Tirwa</h2> I was a bright student growing up in Mahendranagar. I had completed Grade 9, and also taught adult literacy classes to women in my village, so they knew how to sign or to read letters.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100128_f98f1d4217aa5bc1e5d727d84a4a457ef9b8314dd0f4db497b8b78d07d03ae3e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250110100128_f98f1d4217aa5bc1e5d727d84a4a457ef9b8314dd0f4db497b8b78d07d03ae3e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="Tirwa"> </figure>  I also spread awareness against HIV stigmatisation.These engagements exposed me to a world beyond my four walls, expanding my knowledge as I interacted with diverse people, underwent training from organisations, and taught classes. It was also fulfilling as women showed up for the classes after finishing their household chores and participated intently. To complete SLC was a big deal in our village, especially for a girl, and I was so close. But my parents decided to marry me off to an India-born Nepali at 16. I knew of him as he sometimes visited from Mumbai during his vacations and played football with the village boys. My son, who is now in his twenties, is still a baby in my eyes. I was significantly younger than him when I got married. Yet, I was expected to know how to manage a household and fulfill my responsibilities as a wife, daughter-in-law and mother. We also did not have access to tv or internet back then. Children these days are so knowledgeable. We were living in the dark age and did as we were told. Even after all these years, a part of me regrets not completing my education despite being a good student. What was the point of being studious in my circumstances? I remind people to study hard because education is such a privilege. I am invested in my sons’ education. The elder one is now doing a bachelors in AI and data science. Just as my in-laws returned to Nepal after we settled down in Mumbai, we too are considering returning to Nepal after our children are settled. <h2>Suresh Singh</h2> I cannot believe it has been 34 years since I came to Mumbai. For most of us Nepalis, जन्मभुमी (land of birth) and कर्मभुमी (land of work) are two separate geographies. Like my father, I worked as a watchman. My grandfather, too, worked in Mumbai in a mill.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100128_d3ca3227f428b8711ab76f617deab6e74df2302f2715a6a489512f5fb2b51067.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250110100128_d3ca3227f428b8711ab76f617deab6e74df2302f2715a6a489512f5fb2b51067" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="4284" loading="lazy" alt="Suresh Singh"> </figure>  I am now the Security Head, the highest position at my company. The city provides opportunities for those willing to seize them. In my case, I should have used the time outside my 8-hour shifts to complete my education or take skills-based training so I could be competitive in the labor market. The realisation that education is important came late to many of us. My wife was back in Achham, while I worked in Mumbai. She passed away when my son was just one-and-a-half years old. It was difficult to comprehend the news, and I rushed back. I forced authorities to let me on the flight from Tikapur. I was going to leave anyhow, even if it meant having to stand on top of the plane. Grief can make you act in strange ways. In my white clothes, shell-shocked and filled with raw emotions, I must have been quite the sight. They eventually provided me with a seat. My mother raised my son until he reached five, after which I brought him to Mumbai. As a single parent, I don’t think I was able to provide him the kind of guidance that is needed during children’s formative years. Work obligations to provide for him often took precedence. Thankfully, he grew up just fine. He recently left his secure banking career to start his venture in digital advertising. He does not have any memory of his mother. We don’t have a single photo of her.&nbsp; Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

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The tale of four Nepalis in Mumbai

I was born in Mumbai where my father worked as a watchman. When I was just four years old, my parents decided that it would be best if my mother went back to our home district of Achham in Nepal to take care of our house and farm. And off she went with my one-year-old brother. In her absence, we lived close to his workplace. He worked shifts, and was not always home when I returned from school. I learnt to cook for both of us at a young age, even though I do not consider myself a good cook.&nbsp; From childhood, I had this innate sense of responsibility and completed my homework or rote-learned for exams even when I was not under parental watch.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> <figcaption>Bishwokarma was married at 15 to a 13-year-old girl also from Achham who, like him, was also born and raised in Mumbai.</figcaption> </figure>  Growing up around Nepali families in the neighbourhood, I picked up Nepali. Not having a mother figure around, I did not really know what I missed as it had always been that way. My mother and I communicated in letters that were about a paragraph-long without much substance other than basic pleasantries and updates from school. I was more accustomed to my father, with whom I shared a special bond. I married young at 15 to a 13-year old girl who was also born in Mumbai to migrants from Achham. My mother came to my wedding and it was the first time we met after she had left over a decade ago. My mother returned with my wife to Achham where my city grown wife learnt how to do village household chores. Unsurprisingly, she did not like it, but she stayed on for two years. While she was trained by my mother in Achham, I was continuing my school in Mumbai.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  After my wedding, I went to Achham for the first time ever. With no mental image of what it would look like, I did not know what to expect. Life in Nepal took some getting used to but with the visits I grew attached to Nepal and I got familiar with Nepali songs and movies via YouTube. My father eventually moved back to Nepal. My mother needed more help around the house to tend the fields. By then, I had settled down in Mumbai with my wife and four children and worked as a watchman, just like my father. My now-jobless father now depended on me. This put more financial pressure on me. I used to enjoy playing cricket growing up. But when household responsibilities start weighing on you from a young age, there is no space in life for hobbies and passions. By the time I was of age to discover and nurture my interests, I was already worrying about raising my children well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  Life in Mumbai is fast-paced. Everyone is running around. My company closed down, and I lost my job. I then bought an autorickshaw, and my daily income varies between INR 700-1,500. I prefer this more than being a watchman, as there is more freedom. It is self-paced, and there is time to rest. There is no boss to order me around. My three sons work as a vegetable vendor, a real estate agent and a cinematographer, and my daughter is a nurse. They also take care of some of the household expenses. What I earn is just for my pocket money and to keep myself occupied. What would I do sitting around idly? If I had a traditional job, I would be retiring in three years after turning 60. But as an autorickshaw driver, there is no end at sight. I will retire when my body demands it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  I don’t interact much with my customers as I have to keep my eye on the road at all times. Mumbai traffic is bad. Sometimes, customers hail three-wheelers like mine when the cars they have booked online do not arrive on time because of traffic. They have meetings to attend or flights to catch, and they are thankful when I stop to pick them up.&nbsp; Other than that, the interactions are quite limited. Most customers are glued to their phones. Some even bring out their laptops. My job is to ensure they reach their destinations. Three years ago, I received a call from Achham about my father’s heart attack. I was arranging my travel to Nepal, but he passed away that night. I still went to Achham for his last rites, and I cannot describe how difficult it was to make that long journey alone while grieving my father’s loss. As I changed buses and trains across India, all I could think about was my father.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51"> </figure>  We moved my mother to Gujarat where my brother works as a watchman as we did not want to leave her alone in Achham. Our house there is now empty.&nbsp; Just like I was close to my father who raised me, my brother is close to our mother. My brother and I have never spent more than a few days together because we were separated as children. I visit them in Gujarat once in a while. I have lived a simple and perhaps even a boring life. There have been enough hardships, but nothing that I have not been able to sort out on my own. I have not had to depend on others. God has been restrained in the way he sends me problems. We are all entangled in our own झमेला troubles. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. The previous 50 columns can be accessed in this <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">ebook</a>. Watch video of Harka Lal Bishwokarma <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rusYgB9B3rs">here</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rusYgB9B3rs?si=-E3SnyAv00I3ZUm1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Villages along the proposed alignment of Nepal’s ambitious <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/putting-nepal-on-the-right-track">east-west train project</a> are excited about the connectivity and development it will bring. But here in Hariban village there is only apprehension. While elsewhere, there are environmental concerns about the train track slicing through national parks and protected forests, here along the densely populated Tarai plains there is worry about losing farmlands. “This project will cost me a big chunk of my land,” says Dinesh Mahato, who farms a small plot in the Ghurkauli village near the East-West Highway. “Why should I agree to give it all away when I will only be compensated partially?” Hari Narayan Mahato echoes his brother’s anger. “The map shows that I have to give up nearly 700 sq m of land, but I know the area is going to be three times bigger once construction begins,” he says. “It’s just not worth it.” There is also opposition in the Dhanpati locality, and 10 households from these two villages have refused to accept the government’s compensation rate for land which they say is much less than market value.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050152_41071574c82ba8f9698b8b7fdecb3ebf280dd314b1175262d961f76dc6d6ad5b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250105050152_41071574c82ba8f9698b8b7fdecb3ebf280dd314b1175262d961f76dc6d6ad5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1292" height="821" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  The East-West Electric Railway project will ultimately be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">Nepal’s transportation </a>artery stretching from the eastern border with India in Jhapa to Kanchanpur, connecting 24 districts. It will intersect with the proposed Birganj-Kathmandu railway at a junction in Sarlahi district. When completed, Nepal’s 950km long ‘gateway to prosperity’ as it has been dubbed, will have 123 stations, 10 tunnels, 334 bridges, a dam, and a 132kV transmission line to supply electricity to the locomotives. The project will require the acquisition of about 4,520 hectares of land, including 518 plots belonging to 4,000 households. Some of this will be along corridors through Chitwan, Bardia, Banke and Sukla Phanta <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/does-nepal-need-the-army-to-guard-parks">National Parks</a> and other nature reserves. Controversy about land acquisition and compensation as well as environmental impact have stalled the project since 2010. “The biggest issue has been compensation for land,” admits Kamal Kumar Shah of the Department of Railways. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/india-china-rail-race">India-China rail race</a>, Shristi Karki This means less than half of the work along the 70km Bardibas-Nijgad segment has been completed and 16 bridges built, and this is the first section of the railway where construction started 15 years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_9e1de8c104dcbd239a70d4a3abda71579f86502c8b9f4cdd7e184aeef90eb638.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250105050148_9e1de8c104dcbd239a70d4a3abda71579f86502c8b9f4cdd7e184aeef90eb638" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Says Senior Division Engineer Kiran Karki: “It is difficult to work here, people have built houses in public land, knowing that the railway is coming. How do we ask them to leave?” Part of the delay is also due to lack of budget, and this has increased the initial estimate of the total cost because of the increase in land value. The government has nationalised over 190 hectares for the Kakadbhitta-Inaruwa section of the railway in the eastern Tarai for which it will have to distribute Rs24.41 billion in compensation. But the budget allocated for that is only Rs1.5 billion. This means farmers have lost their land, but have not yet been compensated. The East-West Railway line was initially estimated to cost around Rs1 billion per km, but this has increased to Rs1.5 billion per km. Just the first Bardibas-Nijgad section will need an additional Rs50 billion to complete. The estimate for the entire project was estimated at Rs955 billion, but a revised budget has already surpassed Rs1.5 trillion. A major bridge across the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/kosi-now-kathmandu-next">Kosi</a> north of the barrage on the Indian border is expected to cost more than Rs410 billion. The &nbsp;Detailed Project Report (DPR) has been revised to build an elevated line over towns in the Butwal section, for example, to avoid paying exorbitant compensation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> “This project works on multi-year contracts, which have been difficult to award due to a lack of budget,” says Shah. “So the date of completion of the project depends on money being forthcoming.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_addd8a08b727efb1bf1f71752dce1a28d6ea2e9d5f76dafe5dbc9a53a223c5e0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250105050148_addd8a08b727efb1bf1f71752dce1a28d6ea2e9d5f76dafe5dbc9a53a223c5e0" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Meanwhile, activists have raised concern over the project’s environmental cost. The Railway Department has prepared DPRs for four sections of the railway, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/from-nowhere-to-nowhere">Environmental Impact Assessments (EIA)</a> have not been carried out. In Chitwan, the proposed route was realigned to avoid Chitwan National Park following a Supreme Court stay order. However, Chitwan residents have now formed a Railway Victims’ Struggle Committee, saying that the new route would cut through their densely populated communities. “We only found that our land would be part of the railway line when the people from the Railway Department came here last year,” says Hari Thapaliya of Bharatpur Municipality. “The decision to reroute the track was made overnight without any consultation with us.” Angered locals had set fire to a Railway Department vehicle when a survey team reached Krishnapur in July. Bharatpur Deputy Mayor Chitrasen Adhikari says the Railway Department did not even coordinate with the municipality about the new route. “We have proposed an alternate route to the Department,” she adds. “This project affects the livelihoods of people across <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/fogbound-tarai">the Tarai</a>, their concerns must be heard, and they must be included in the decision-making process,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_682ed3ef3e398592f098d1ac638faa4d3b7517515e0f1b2014cb9c4383e6d9c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250105050148_682ed3ef3e398592f098d1ac638faa4d3b7517515e0f1b2014cb9c4383e6d9c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  The problem is that 53% of Nepal’s total population now lives along the narrow strip of plains along the Indian border through which the railway line will pass. The Railway Department is squeezed between the need to balance environmental concerns with high compensation demands of locals. Conservationists have maintained that the railway alignment will go through ecologically sensitive areas, disturbing and fragmenting the habitat of endangered species, blocking their migration routes and disrupting water and food sources. All of this could in turn increase <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/human-animal-interface-in-nepal-wildlife-corridor">human-wildlife conflict</a>. Experts have suggested measures to invest in ‘ecological offsetting’ programs that help in the creation of new protected areas, restoration projects, and wildlife underpass and overpass corridors. There is also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-pre-monsoon-forest-fires-in-nepal">concern about the forests </a>that have to be sacrificed. Already, 13,500 trees have been cut down in the Bardibas-Nijgad section alone. The Sagarnath Forest, which stretches from Sarlahi to Mahottari, and areas under the Rautahat Division Forest also lie along the proposed alignment. Surya Raj Acharya blames inadequate monitoring and evaluation during the preparation of the DPR because government agencies lack sufficient technical capacity and experience in the railway sector.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_7823653d3f037122441c11f6485c5407acc716811bedf464255aefe3a76d97f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250105050148_7823653d3f037122441c11f6485c5407acc716811bedf464255aefe3a76d97f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  He adds, “Transparent financial planning and management are necessary to ensure the project’s sustainability and economic viability. But the contracts have been hurriedly awarded without proper land acquisition. An urgent review is necessary.” All this needs stronger political will and coordination between various agencies which is sorely lacking not just in the east-west railway project, but in other infrastructure schemes as well. When built, the nearly 1,000 km long railway will streamline cargo and passenger traffic, making it cheaper and more convenient for ordinary people. Railway junctions can also facilitate the north-south transshipment of goods and passenger traffic when coordinated with public transport. Transport costs for exports and imports from India will also be slashed. “A high-speed train running at 200 to 250km per hour will mean that trains will get from Kathmandu to Dhangadi faster than planes, and at much cheaper fares,” notes Acharya. Trains will also reduce carbon emissions by up to 30% compared to trucks and buses. Train lines will be the backbone of Nepal’s transportation system, boosting tourism in the Kathmandu, Chitwan and Lumbini triangle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_ee137f417c5712be9d2d16f295ba7e30fc207e878214103e387346dfed3a9815.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250105050148_ee137f417c5712be9d2d16f295ba7e30fc207e878214103e387346dfed3a9815" data-rendition-name="original" width="577" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Ultimately, the Kerung-Kathmandu trans-Himalayan railway will connect with the Birganj-Kathmandu line and in future be a future non-maritime corridor for India-China trade. Nepal has been trying to get the East-West railway project funded through foreign investment, but so far there has not been much interest. There also needs to be a better viability study for future railway links, otherwise Nepal may be straddled with loans it cannot repay. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-china-to-study-trans-himalayan-railway">Nepal and China to study trans-Himalayan railway</a>, Ramesh Bhushal “The border region along the Tarai remains behind in terms of education, health, and the economy,” says economist Bishwo Poudel. “A railway line alone will not do much to improve their quality of life, there have to be other interventions.” Poudel adds that a north-south railway through Kathmandu to connect India and China through Nepal makes much more economic sense. China has been studying the Kerung-Kathmandu track with tunnels under <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cleaning-up-high-places">Langtang National Park</a>, which would have technological and financial challenges. India is also working on a railway alignment to connect Kathmandu to its border town of Raxaul. At present the only operational passenger railway in Nepal is the 35km cross-border Jaynagar–Janakpur–Bardibas line. The former Department of Railways Director General Rohit Kumar Bisural is a road engineer, and says: “Very few people in Nepal have experience in railways.”

Nepal train project struggles to stay on track

Between the 1980s and 2000s, over 5,000 <a href="https://download.ssrn.com/11/01/06/ssrn_id1736064_code1383023.pdf?response-content-disposition=inline&amp;X-Amz-Security-Token=IQoJb3JpZ2luX2VjEBkaCXVzLWVhc3QtMSJIMEYCIQCiYUc7BuJ7zaDn%2BOTCFOWBgNKqYarnapqY%2FWZbamFVsgIhAOC%2FPFXHR9Dx6xTicWMj5%2BJXdIEGZ7LxKRyjrCe61Ng9KsYFCPL%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2FwEQBBoMMzA4NDc1MzAxMjU3IgzWD1Y1XNz2kaOS3jEqmgX0TbxyBTTrZrpd%2B5N72pFzJAwc%2BxTF8Dc0GnVG2tUGUYyxBt1YmfEqAw5cdOuRCZV23SSKkJwndg9IwI3yrjZGBp9XKxg4lK4Vq0Qy9RMmma5hNCVnA2T0MwGghlnmkgWPZA5ouZPiKFAecf4PE5qml2fu1wj72LEAig5R77cN6nC6%2BxTcygMiuiHrR9yZB4RyvTD9s58avGqUcn9hcIUdku3ydvAGVEgczzgEMCesRMtSgqzHz3E9bju9QLR5RpcDRp0wptfQ89uGXgyBGLCX%2BAl6uareSxQCSaDOthP4PmswWI7y7kBJbQp1pZq8r56Yoa3Qf5WVtmxbsWmDtbOsaSBa0yB6EIS8RKFGeQ%2Bcz%2BnEsOoPHIS%2BqO1k1%2BQuihjN0T66SnWFo8rl8Cv2g4GghY9p9DR3wopBJ6cE%2FtDJMY%2BZ03LkUwS%2Fc7ckyaRpfPX5g6Bb9J56a%2BNA5lnIV5o%2Fpjp%2BZJaVIvEzciyzzTwP58wznmcy3xppvK%2BwXBzBR96cPMXKTdNv9%2FqJ5jlnsgSRJpHWE3UyHbFucwQYXi19i7mCglFSuSkkL5Tg9nQWvXpuP9Z9VmMlQfQ%2F%2FpsfA6KlL81K3UK%2Bp%2FJB2mxQD9SYexZvAf1g21NUSF%2F8I19orsNrT6LutAnoJU%2FOTgO3qMbdgnR%2FuBytI3POnQAEIfbG0Za%2FrEDJ9j8CEbasNXsBMqkx8JKGRG2PUHMRC2xl5Z%2BNIbpsqGB8t%2BvAt40osDpgZStiyeiGdC1nMakUzZtBjWlttzoirCdemwPKJ8M%2BEohj2%2BLEN92yaOKdFewns0gjh%2BUxcotGvBo%2F7QZFappBNjLlR0PyanjcuB4MndEQjeIrd67ntscTKiLDI%2FfzwCHulsl6nbMpewpWFAYwg67guwY6sAGb3VJ2q%2F36hWhrVa8igP2hswnnLlcIU2uhOZa5ge2hCXkUYhL1BcSJfoWy2LwrWCXtdFo%2BT7KMU3p6O3jySdxSop8F4iO%2BJBiXVjSiXm%2FqZo3ri8sVwUgo4ksJI%2BT4AbfK3D3VGYapBgU5LdX%2FjkNwSVoR1vz4vMIyF56i7MKeYG1nFLgc0l9cIjrQI6eY869uIbgZ1XKqqBsuavCbYjSbSy7dMP0QSym%2FgmoWILGE0Q%3D%3D&amp;X-Amz-Algorithm=AWS4-HMAC-SHA256&amp;X-Amz-Date=20250103T172339Z&amp;X-Amz-SignedHeaders=host&amp;X-Amz-Expires=300&amp;X-Amz-Credential=ASIAUPUUPRWE65YAH56X%2F20250103%2Fus-east-1%2Fs3%2Faws4_request&amp;X-Amz-Signature=9b654b526e0779da4fa9f54e2fcde04ac9f7e91fb50d4f8094b1039ebb19e21b&amp;abstractId=1736064">Nepali children were adopted abroad</a>, primarily to the United States, France, and Spain. While international adoption was intended to provide vulnerable children with better opportunities, child trafficking and irregular practices prompted Nepal to suspend adoptions in 2007, and overhaul its policies. By 2010, stricter regulations aligned with the <a href="https://www.hcch.net/en/instruments/conventions/specialised-sections/intercountry-adoption">Hague Adoption Convention</a> drastically reduced adoption numbers. Today, many of these children, now adults, are returning to Nepal in search of their roots, only to encounter a society that no longer recognises them, legally or socially. Behind the statistics lie the <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01GRNPPXAC1Z3AETV9HARNCG5Q">deeply personal and emotional journey</a> of adoptees returning to reconnect with their past, seek family, and rediscover a sense of belonging. These stories reflect a broader struggle for identity and the complexities of bridging two worlds. Maya Adopted at 9 by a family in Barcelona, Maya carried fragmented memories of her early life in Nepal including the painful recollection of the day her mother and sister vanished, leaving her and her younger siblings behind. She had faint images of her mother, elder sister, and the village where she once lived. In June 2017, Maya came to Nepal accompanied by Chandra Kala and two friends, Jay and Vikram. With only a few photographs of her mother Tulsi, her elder sister Pargati, and her brother-in-law Kamal, along with a street name, Maya arrived in Birendranagar after a 20-hour bus ride from Kathmandu. “Now that we’re close, I feel like I can’t face them,” she confessed to Chandra Kala, wrestling with anxiety about what she might uncover. “I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’ll recognise them or if they’ll recognise me. I don’t know how they’ll react or what they’ll say. And then there’s him [Kamal]. I have such bad memories of him. I don’t know if I can handle this.” Chandra Kala reassured her, reminding her of her courage and the importance of this moment. Maya and her companions asked around the town with little success until a shopkeeper recognised Kamal and directed them to a nearby village. Jay went to confirm and returned excitedly, shouting, “It’s her! It’s your sister!” Maya froze, paralysed by fear and anticipation but she pushed ahead. At the village, Maya’s sister Pargati initially struggled to recognise her. Jay introduced Maya: “Do you recognise her? This is your younger sister. She’s come all the way from Spain to find you.” Slowly, realisation dawned, and the two women embraced, bridging the decades of separation with tears and disbelief. The next day, Maya met her mother Tulsi in an emotionally overwhelming reunion. Tulsi rushed into the room and embraced Maya tightly, sobbing uncontrollably: “Mero chhora-chhori, gaye, gaye… my children they went, they went …” Once the tears subsided, Tulsi and Pargati began recounting the heartbreaking circumstances of their separation. After the death of her husband, Tulsi faced relentless judgment in their village when Kamal stayed with the family before his marriage to Pargati. The villagers accused Tulsi of impropriety, calling her पापी (sinful) and demanded that the family leave. “We didn’t want to leave, but the village didn’t want us here,” explained Pargati. “We left intending to bring you and your siblings later. But when we returned, you were gone.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>An adoptee and companion return to Bal Mandir in Kathmandu after 19 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  Tulsi recalled how she had entrusted Maya and her siblings to relatives, hoping they would be cared for temporarily. However, when she returned, the children had been sent away without her knowledge. “I only trusted them because I had no other choice,” Tulsi said through tears. “I didn’t know they would send my children away. What kind of mother does that make me? They called me a bad mother, but what else could I have done?” The reunion brought healing and answers but it also exposed the societal pressures that had fractured Maya’s family. Despite the challenges, Maya spent the rest of her visit bonding with her sister, nieces, and younger half-sister, Sunita, slowly bridging the gaps created by time and distance. Maya’s journey was a testament to the courage required to confront the past, the pain of uncovering difficult truths, and the hope of rebuilding connections once lost. Her story highlights the enduring emotional complexity faced by adoptees navigating their history and identity. Ashmita Unlike some adoptees whose main focus is reuniting with their biological family, 26-year-old Ashmita’s priority has been to uncover the institutional details surrounding her adoption. She wanted to understand what the orphanage and the government knew about her background and why so much information seemed concealed. “I just want to know where I come from,” she said. “Even if I never find my biological family, having a better sense of the places and people connected to my story would mean so much.” For many adoptees, returning to Nepal is not just about reconnecting emotionally, it is about seeking formal recognition as members of the Nepali community. However, the legal framework in Nepal often fails to acknowledge their unique status.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>A mother reunites with her don after 18 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  In Nepali law, adoptees are left in limbo: their birth parents are not considered legal parents, and their ties to the country are effectively erased upon adoption. This lack of recognition creates significant hurdles, particularly in two key areas: accessing pre-adoption records and obtaining Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) status. Despite international norms like the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which guarantees the right to know one’s origins, institutions often refuse to cooperate. Orphanages and non-profits in Nepal, which hold critical pre-adoption records such as birth certificates and citizenship documents, frequently withhold this information, reflecting the systemic reluctance to provide transparency. In numerous cases, records that should include family names, addresses, or relinquishment agreements were either incomplete or falsified. These practices not only prevent adoptees from reclaiming their histories but also perpetuate their disconnection from their heritage. Ashmita’s initial requests for information from her adoption agency were met with delays and incomplete responses. When she turned to the orphanage where she spent her early years, she encountered even greater resistance. At one point, the director of the orphanage issued veiled threats. Nevertheless, Ashmita persisted and managed to find the name of the individual who had brought her to the orphanage. However, the person had disappeared, leaving yet another gap in her story. A breakthrough came when Ashmita accessed a police report that suggested she might have been born in a different municipality than the one in her adoption records, prompting her to seek help from local authorities. The police took an interest in her case and began investigating possible connections to her birth family. While progress was slow, they meticulously followed leads to help her trace her origins. “It’s not easy,” Ashmita said of the process. “But every small step feels like I’m piecing something back together.” She also noted that societal perceptions could add to the difficulty. At times, she felt questioned about her identity and her right to seek answers. “People have asked me why I care so much or even suggested that I’m not Nepali anymore because I was adopted abroad,” she reflected. Ashmita’s story is a complex account of persistence in the face of institutional and personal challenges. While her search has not yet provided all the answers she seeks, it continues to offer her insights into her early life and the systems that shaped her adoption journey. &nbsp;“These records are sealed for a reason. They are not meant to be reopened,” said a government official. Even an NGO representative said: “It’s better for everyone if the past remains in the past.” An orphanage director asked: “Why are you asking these questions? This is not your place anymore.” Hari Prasad Sacré The Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) card is a lifeline for Nepali diaspora members, granting them residency and property rights in Nepal. Yet, adoptees are notably excluded from this framework. While the law stipulates eligibility for individuals whose parents or grandparents were Nepali citizens, it makes no provision for adoptees whose legal ties to their Nepali parents were severed by adoption. When Hari Prasad Sacré, a Nepali adoptee, sought to obtain an NRN card at the Nepal Embassy in Belgium, he encountered officials unfamiliar with processing an NRN request from an adoptee. His case was the first of its kind, setting a precedent but also highlighting the systemic barriers adoptees face. "You are not eligible; your surname is Sacré, it is not a Nepali name," an embassy staff said.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5" data-rendition-name="original" width="446" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>Hari Prasad Sacré receives tika from his father Khul Prasad Adhikari during Dasain, a few weeks after receiving his NRN card. Photo: HARI PRASAD SACRÉ</figcaption> </figure>  Sacré’s situation was legally ambiguous. Although his biological parents, including his father, Khul Prasad Adhikari, are alive and he maintains contact with them, he no longer had “legal” ties to Nepal due to the adoption process. Carrying a Belgian surname the embassy staff was initially convinced the adoptee couldn’t claim Nepali origin. Nepali law, which does not recognise biological parents as legal guardians once a child is adopted, created complications for the NRN application. To navigate this complexity, Sacré relied on a testimony from his father. Issued by a local government body in Kaski, the testimony affirmed that Hari had been put up for adoption and was of Nepali origin. While this enabled the embassy to approve his NRN card, the process was unnecessarily protracted and emotionally charged, highlighting the inadequacy of current policies to accommodate the unique situations of adoptees. Sacré’s case represents a rare instance where biological parents were alive and willing to provide testimony, but many adoptees are not as fortunate. A large number of adoptees were declared “orphans” during the adoption process, even when their parents were alive. This severed their legal ties to Nepal, stripping them of documentation that could later prove their origin. For others, the absence of living biological relatives or access to their original adoption records creates insurmountable barriers. Without clear documentation or a family member to vouch for their Nepali heritage, adoptees are excluded from the NRN framework. This denies them the rights and privileges afforded by the card, including property rights, legal recognition, and a formal connection to their homeland. Current laws fail to account for the complexities of adoptees’ legal status, leaving them disconnected from their cultural and legal heritage. Adoption papers, as evidence of Nepali descent, should be accepted as proof, granting adoptees rightful access to the NRN card and ensuring their inclusion in Nepal’s diaspora. Such reforms are crucial to ensure that all adoptees, regardless of their circumstances, can reclaim their heritage and establish a sense of belonging in Nepali society. Without these changes, the systemic exclusion of adoptees will persist, perpetuating inequities and denying them the opportunity to step up as active members of the Nepali diaspora. Sacré’s case serves as both a precedent and a call to action. It exemplifies the challenges and triumphs of adoptees navigating complex bureaucracies and advocates for a more inclusive and equitable approach to reconnecting adoptees with their homeland. Nepal can draw inspiration from South Korea, where the government has actively supported the reintegration of adoptees into their society. The F4 visa, established through efforts by organisations like the Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link (GOA'L), grants adoptees the right to live and work in Korea, while dual citizenship acknowledges their dual identity as members of the diaspora and their country of origin. GOA’L further fosters reconnection by offering language classes and cultural exchange programs, creating opportunities for meaningful reintegration and belonging. As Nepal refines its NRN citizenship framework, explicitly including adoptees could address the severance of legal and cultural ties caused by international adoption. Such inclusion would provide adoptees a pathway to residency, citizenship, and rights, enabling them to reconnect with their heritage. Complementing this with programs for language acquisition, cultural immersion, and historical education would honour Nepal’s responsibility to the approximately 5,000 children sent abroad. Nepal could establish a dedicated organisation similar to South Korea’s GOA’L and help adoptees access pre-adoption records, navigate legal processes, and engage in cultural exchange initiatives. It would also serve as a bridge between adoptees and Nepali society, fostering mutual understanding and collaboration. This article is based on doctoral studies by <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01H4Z85GPS63ZWDJ3WB2E6KS70">Hari Prasad Sacré</a> and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/10357823.2022.2142932">Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez</a>. Hari Prasad Sacré, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at Ghent University in Belgium, specialising in cultural translation, multilingualism, and identity in education. His PhD, Reading Illiteracy, explored fractured multilingualism and illiteracy in displaced identities such as adoptees, with work published in leading journals like Critical Arts and the European Journal for Cultural Studies. Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at the AFIN Research Group, Autonomous University of Barcelona, with a PhD in Social Anthropology. Her research focuses on family strategies, reproductive decisions, and adoption, with extensive fieldwork in Spain and Nepal examining adoptee reunions and related governance and rights.

Searching for a homeland away from home

Prime Minister K P Oli returned from his China visit in December with the freshly re-inked<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/china-syndrome"> Belt and Road Initiative Framework Cooperation Agreement</a>.&nbsp;
Ten infrastructure projects proposed by Nepal were approved by China as part of the BRI deal which will fund projects through ‘aid-assistance’, a wordage used to get around political sensitivity about more loans from China.
One of them is the ambititious <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/which-way-will-the-tibet-nepal-railway-go">Kerung-Kathmandu Railway</a>, with financing, geotechnical and geopolitical challenges. Nepal sought better connectivity with China after the 2015 earthquake-blockade crisis as a way to counterbalance India’s dominance.
China was looking to expand its sphere of influence in South Asia, and got Nepal to already sign the BRI framework in 2017 which included extending its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/bri-and-trans-himalayan-connectivity">Trans-Himalayan Multi-Dimensional Connectivity Network </a>to Kathmandu.&nbsp;
Not to be outdone, India signed a MoU in 2018 with Nepal to survey the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/birganj-waits-for-the-boom">proposed Raxaul-Kathmandu railway</a>, followed by another agreement in 2021 to prepare a Detailed Project Report. Konkan Railway Corporation handed over its Final Location Survey (FLS) to the Nepal government in 2023.
“We have added our comments and feedback to the draft after review and sent it to India, but haven’t got back the final report,” says Kamal Kumar Shah of Nepal’s Department of Railways. The 141km long broad gauge railway will reportedly include 42km of tunnels, 124 bridges, and 13 stations, and will cost more than $3 billion.&nbsp;
More expensive and difficult will be the trans-Himalayan railway that is an extension of China’s Lhasa-Xigatse line. A Chinese pre-feasibility proposed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-light-at-end-of-trans-himalayan-train-tunnel">tunnels between Kerung to Kathmandu below Langtang National Park</a>. The tunnel will have to spiral to offset the gradient drop from 4,000m on the Tibetan Plateau to 1,400m in Kathmandu. More than 98% of the 73km standard gauge railway will burrow under the Himalaya, costing $5.5 billion.
A feasibility study of the Kerung-Kathmandu railway by Chinese consultants is underway, and is expected to be completed by June 2026. The team is drilling into the mountains for the geotechnical investigation.&nbsp;
The northern rail alignment is expected to face delays because of land compensation and environmental concerns.
For China, the trans-Himalayan railway has strategic connectivity value that goes beyond Nepal to facilitate a future non-maritime trade route with India. China is India’s biggest trade partner and its ocean route could be affected by tension in South China Sea.&nbsp;
Ultimately, the Kerung-Kathmandu railway will have a terminal at Tokha, while the Raxaul-Kathmandu line will approach from the south at Chobhar.&nbsp;
“As far as technical challenges are concerned, there are no limitations as such to connect China and India via railway, should both countries be open to it,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya. "But there have been strong reservations from India, apparently due to geopolitical concerns, as already manifested in its opposition to the BRI.”
Despite a trans-Himalayan rail line also being in India’s interest, the present geopolitical climate is not conducive to cooperation to improve connectivity. &nbsp;New Delhi refuses to buy electricity from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/missing-pieces-of-the-hydropower-jigsaw">hydropower</a> project in Nepal with Chinese involvement, and also embargos imports of Nepali goods with Chinese components. New Delhi is also not too happy with Prime Minister Oli after he signed the BRI deal in Beijing last month. &nbsp;
Some analysts say Nepal should stick to building better highway connectivity rather than invest in expensive railway lines, especially with its two neighbours. &nbsp;
“The biggest concern with both projects is that there is zero technical input from our side, which means they have been designed according to Indian and Chinese parameters,” says Paribesh Parajuly, one of Nepal’s few railway engineers who was a consultant at the Department of Railways for the Kerung-Kathmandu project.&nbsp;
He says China and India have their own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">geopolitical interests</a>, but Nepal should be more assertive in what it wants and needs, and stipulate the technical standards it wants followed. One of the hurdles for a China-India train connection through Nepal will be that the northern line is standard gauge, while the southern one is broad gauge. &nbsp;
“It seems that India's proposal for the Raxaul-Kathmandu railway as a broad gauge line is a risk-mitigation exercise to prevent China from getting directly to the Indian border from Kerung through a standard gauge railway,” says Acharya.
Nepal will now have to play the waiting game until India decides on the next step of the project and whether China deems the mega trans-Himalayan project worth undertaking. &nbsp;
But waiting should not mean that Nepal sits on its hands, there is much strategic planning to be done both for the trans-national railways as well as a future domestic network running on Nepal’s surplus electricity, and training railway technicians.&nbsp;

India-China rail race

The new year 2025 started literally with a bang. The 7.1M jolt in Xigatse on Tuesday swayed buildings in Kathmandu 400km away, and coincided with the approaching 91st anniversary of the 1934 Great Earthquake. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/be-prepared">National Earthquake Safety Day </a>on 15 January commemorates the 1934 8.3M disaster that killed 10,000 people in Kathmandu, leaving many collapsed buildings. Thousands of people of Kathmandu took shelter in tents in Tundikhel as aftershocks rattled the country (pictured).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070132_0d5b8bd0f1eb0350ec17f6b92a3e37b0b958976292520107b21efb961d883330.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250109070132_0d5b8bd0f1eb0350ec17f6b92a3e37b0b958976292520107b21efb961d883330" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Tents"> <figcaption>Tents at Tundikhel housed survivors as aftershocks following the 1934 earthquake rocked the country for days.</figcaption> </figure>  This year is also the tenth anniversary of the 2015 7.8M Gorkha Earthquake that killed 9,000 people in central Nepal. These are all warnings about the ‘seismic gap’ in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/past-disasters-foretold" target="_blank">western Nepal</a> where there has not been a major quake for more than 500 years.&nbsp; That one that is overdue, and for which the country is woefully unprepared. Despite the distance, an 8M earthquake will not spare Kathmandu and other urban centres. “It will be catastrophic, and yet, there is no preparedness among the public or policymakers despite increased awareness,” warns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/turkey-and-nepal-face-similar-seismic-risks" target="_blank">Surya Narayan Shrestha</a> of the National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET Nepal) which has been involved in retrofitting public buildings.&nbsp; “The warning of the 2015 earthquake was not heeded, it has not translated into building safer or enforcing building codes,” Shrestha adds.&nbsp; There have been a series of smaller earthquakes in Jajarkot and Bajura in the past year, and it is an indication of the lack of preparedness that even <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-earthquake-hits-w-nepal" target="_blank">moderate quakes like Jajarkot</a> killed so many and caused so much damage. The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) in its <a href="https://bipad.gov.np/uploads/publication_pdf/EPR_report_July_2022_Final_V4_(1)138720.pdf" target="_blank">Emergency Preparedness and Response Assessment</a> quantified earthquake preparedness levels in 23 municipalities. Kathmandu nearly failed with just 39.8%, while Doti in western Nepal scored the lowest at 11%. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">Disastrous preparedness</a> ‘This means that most criteria for emergency preparedness and response systems in Nepal are weak,’ stated the 2022 assessment. It underlined severe lack of search and rescue equipment for different hazards, dysfunctional emergency operations center network, and poorly constructed houses and public buildings.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070136_f861a5d7d63a10f1650c1cc5607bef14b7f40eb7adc074b122a44c5ed21d1fa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250109070136_f861a5d7d63a10f1650c1cc5607bef14b7f40eb7adc074b122a44c5ed21d1fa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1140" loading="lazy" alt="Dharara "> <figcaption>Ruins of Dharara tower after the 1934 earthquake. It was later reconstructed which again collapsed in 2015 earthquake killing many.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070136_9254062611371e577c9244d975b20f11d3be1033c243299dd719781330ffc2af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250109070136_9254062611371e577c9244d975b20f11d3be1033c243299dd719781330ffc2af" data-rendition-name="original" width="1380" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="Singha Durbar"> <figcaption>The gate of Singha Darbar after the 8.3M earthquake in 1934.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070132_b0373e847d616cadf465173b779a41ee49da008916acc46cf6d6e244a3f560c1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250109070132_b0373e847d616cadf465173b779a41ee49da008916acc46cf6d6e244a3f560c1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1993" loading="lazy" alt="Earthquake"> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state" target="_blank">Western Nepal</a> has seen a swarm of smaller quakes in the past year, and this could either be releasing some of the tectonic tension, or a warning of a big one to come. The National Earthquake Monitoring and Research Center recorded 10 earthquakes between 4.1-5.2M from 17 December to 3 January, most of them in western Nepal. “We need thousands of these minor tremors or hundreds of moderate 6M earthquakes a year to be able to release the stress that has accumulated beneath western Nepal,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-disaster-resilient-nepal-is-possible" target="_blank">Anil Pokhrel</a>, who heads the NDRRMA.&nbsp; Today, Nepal’s seismic risk is magnified by climate breakdown. Rising temperature is melting glaciers, and turning them into lakes dammed by fragile moraines. A megaquake in the Himalaya increases the risk of multiple Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) downstream. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">Nepal’s mountains are melting</a>, Alton C Byers A few hours before two small glacial lakes burst destroying the village of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">Thame in August</a> last year, a 4.5M earthquake had struck nearby on the Tibetan Plateau. The Journal of Basic and Applied Geomorphology in February 2023 <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0169555X22004329" target="_blank">published a study</a> highlighting how earthquakes exacerbate climate-driven cascade processes of the glacial lakes failure in the Himalaya. ‘Global warming drives glacial retreat, and uncover loose sediment that can be mobilized as debris flows, triggering small glacial lake outbursts in high mountain regions. Sediment generated from earthquake-induced landslides exacerbates the flow magnitude in a valley to increase the disaster risk,’ the paper warns. Of the 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up" target="_blank">high-risk lakes</a> on glaciers that threaten Nepal, 25 are in China and feed tributaries of the Arun and Bhote Kosi that flow into Nepal. Pokhrel says he initially feared that the Xigatse earthquake on Tuesday would cause glacial lakes in Tibet to burst. He adds, “It is important to be prepared for cascading, complex disasters that combine the climate crisis with earthquakes, permafrost melting, GLOFs, landslides.” Pokhrel was in Thame in August, and says, “The two lakes that burst were the size of Olympic swimming pools and yet managed to wipe out half the village. We have lakes 600 times bigger which are now at a higher risk of bursting in an earthquake due to climate breakdown.”

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