Philanthropy will never replace<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/uk-aid-for-nepal-s-covid-affected-mp4ab6lw"> public aid</a>, but it can be a powerhouse if we use it right. With global development funding under strain, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/e75-million-eu-aid-to-nepal-for-covid-19-ckmyfbkq">European aid</a> budgets being redirected toward defence and rearmament, and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">United States rethinking foreign assistance</a> altogether, the aid community has been left scrambling.
The reactions so far have been of two kinds: calls for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/philanthropy-in-the-time-of-pandemic">philanthropy</a> to fill the gap, and moralising statements shaming governments for stepping back. Unfortunately, the first is unrealistic, and the second is ineffective.&nbsp;
Private donors cannot solve systemic <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/our-uncommon-future">global challenges</a> alone, and telling politicians that they are morally bankrupt generally does not bring them around to your side. Instead, we need to meet policymakers where they are, sharpen our arguments, and focus on what actually works. The hard truth is that most <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/foreign-aid-policy-to-balance-infrastructure-investment-with-social-sector-investment">government aid</a> is not even designed for effectiveness, because it prioritises processes over results. Nor has philanthropy been immune to this impulse.
In early years at the Eleanor Crook Foundation, we funded holistic, multisectoral programs that tried to tackle all causes of malnutrition simultaneously. But the results were underwhelming. The approach looked good on paper, but produced no measurable improvements in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-epidemic-of-hunger">malnutrition</a>. So, we learned from that failure and changed course. Now, we direct our funding where the evidence is strongest and the results most immediate.&nbsp;
At the recent Nutrition for Growth (N4G) Summit in Paris, we announced a $50 million commitment, alongside $200 million from other donors, to scale up one of the most cost-effective interventions in global health: prenatal vitamins – known as multiple micronutrient supplements (MMS). This funding will go toward a $1 billion roadmap to ensure access to MMS for pregnant women no matter where they live.
The science on this issue is unequivocal. MMS replaces outdated iron and folic acid (IFA) tablets still given to many pregnant women in low-income countries. With MMS, women receive 15 nutrients, instead of just two, leading to a dramatic reduction in maternal anemia, stillbirth, and low birth weight. The estimated economic returns are $37 for every $1 invested while infant mortality is reduced by nearly one-third.
The global inequities in maternal health are profound. In London, a pregnant woman routinely has access to comprehensive prenatal vitamins. In Lagos, she might receive IFA, or nothing at all. The difference reflects a gap in will, not knowledge. Ending such disparities does not require a scientific breakthrough, just greater investment in already proven solutions.
More than two decades of research, three Lancet studies, and multiple World Bank investment cases have identified roughly ten nutrition interventions that are consistently underfunded despite their proven efficacy. These are not flashy, multisector, utopian initiatives. They are targeted, evidence-based programs that can be implemented immediately to deliver measurable results.
Solutions like breastfeeding support, Vitamin A supplementation, prenatal vitamins, and ready-to-use foods for severely malnourished children belong to a package of interventions that could save at least two million lives over five years if scaled up in nine high-burden countries. Such life-changing results would cost just $887 million per year.
Malnutrition is now the leading driver of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16505">child mortality</a> globally, contributing to some three million deaths in 2023 alone. These are not mysterious tragedies. They are predictable and in many cases cost little to prevent. In a world that routinely sends tourists to space, we obviously can afford to ensure that all <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time">pregnant women</a> have access to a $2 bottle of vitamins.
This year’s N4G Summit may be the last of its kind. It was part of a summit series linked to the Olympics, which will next be hosted by the US. With the current <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trump-s-second-coming">US administration </a>already signaling that it will not continue the tradition, recent commitments made in Paris have gained new urgency. Vague pledges and political posturing will no longer do.
We are not asking governments to spend like they used to. Rather, we are urging them to look at the evidence and use their remaining budgets for official <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/small-is-bountiful?fbclid=IwAR0wRoEdhgYO9qATGiukFQvK2fE6N8rCDZ4CBJBdkTC6_Es-6_mdVHldlic">development assistance</a> to scale up proven, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-is-still-possible">cost-effective solutions</a>. A modest investment in MMS – representing less than the cost of one week of G7 countries’ defense spending – could save 600,000 lives.
Even with constrained budgets, we have a chance to save millions of lives. But only if we stop trying to do everything, and focus instead on what is the right thing to do.
William Moore is the CEO of the Eleanor Crook Foundation and Chair of Stronger Foundations for Nutrition.

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Philanthropy in an era of declining development aid

James Harris (‘Jim’) Simons, the mathematician and billionaire philanthropist who set up a foundation to improve Nepal’s healthcare system, died in New York on 10 May, aged 86. Jim Simons was an award-winning mathematician who pioneered quantitative investing and gave away much of his billions to support mathematics education, scientific research and various humanitarian causes. But his life was marked by family tragedies. His elder son, Paul, was killed in New York in 1996 in a traffic accident, and his younger son, Nick drowned in Bali in 2003 after a volunteering stint in Nepal.&nbsp; Nick Simons had written letters home from Nepal about his experience in rural health posts, and was determined to become a physician so he could help the underprivileged in poorer parts of the world.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240511120528_08e9e9ec5b9faa6a852fb5a4b5a8586526935cb8a9c8c61fd329fb8e4d7466e4.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240511120528_08e9e9ec5b9faa6a852fb5a4b5a8586526935cb8a9c8c61fd329fb8e4d7466e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="596" height="812" loading="lazy" alt="Nick Simons"> <figcaption>Nick Simons with a friend in Nepal in 2003. He died soon after while swimming in Bali.</figcaption> </figure>  After Nick’s tragic death, Jim Simons and his economist wife Marilyn travelled to Nepal several times to set up the <a href="https://www.nsi.edu.np/overview" target="_blank">Nick Simons Institute (NSI)</a> to back up government hospitals in rural areas with training, equipment and budgetary support. Since it was established in 2006, NSI has invested more than $100 million in Nepal’s health sector and now supports 45 district hospitals and health facilities. Most of the institute’s work is behind-the-scenes and not visible to the public, like its help with training nurses and anaesthesiologists, maintaining biomedical equipment, and in retaining qualified medical staff in remote rural hospitals by topping up salaries. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11436" target="_blank">Jim Simons once told Nepali Times</a>: "Rural health care is not a new problem in Nepal, and there are lots of people addressing the issue. What makes NSI unique is that it will do this job better than it has ever been done with an emphasis on quality and training.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240511020552_a9bbf2070d0ace34db48799e7c76f8f18a221750b5f2bcb5fda3a87b2eb97769.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240511020552_a9bbf2070d0ace34db48799e7c76f8f18a221750b5f2bcb5fda3a87b2eb97769" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jim Simons NT"> <figcaption>Marilyn and Jim Simons in Nepal in 2012. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Indeed, the Simons made several visits to Nepal in 2003 soon after their son died, talking to health experts to see where support would be most catalytic and meaningful. They decided to do this not by running their own hospitals, but by working with the government in developing sustainable solutions in rural healthcare and scaling it up. "With the establishment of the Nick Simon's Institute in 2006, Jim was clearly a game changer for enhancement of rural health in Nepal. &nbsp;Also what is unforgettable about Jim was his amazing sense of humor in telling a story, his sharp intellect, and how he did not suffer fools lightly," says <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18356" target="_blank">Buddha Basnyat</a>, a physician who is in the executive committee of NSI. The Simons often said they would probably never have been involved in Nepal’s health sector had it not been for their son Nick, who had found fulfilment helping Nepalis and wanted to return to live and work here.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240511020556_761b7ed7926bbf26b24c5e8ab06df077019280451bc1d4efc5bd3c5d44e740bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240511020556_761b7ed7926bbf26b24c5e8ab06df077019280451bc1d4efc5bd3c5d44e740bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="904" height="1382" loading="lazy" alt="Jim Simons NT"> <figcaption>Marilyn and Jim Simons in Nepal in 2023 with Patty Weisenfeld of Nick Simons Foundation. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Jim Simons went through three phases in his life: as a mathematician, an investor and a philanthropist. As a maths professor, he found solutions that are still used to solve problems in physics and astronomy. He then set up <a href="https://www.rentec.com/Home.action?about=true" target="_blank">Renaissance Technologies</a> that used his talent in mathematics to analyse complex financial data and forecast global share markets. That is how he made billions, much of which he re-invested in improving STEM education in American schools, in exploring the universe, or trying to find the causes of autism.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240515170536_5ea1f3742ee715ce95ee11a82dfcc6991be56b827f5dff8d6c58824f836763e1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240515170536_5ea1f3742ee715ce95ee11a82dfcc6991be56b827f5dff8d6c58824f836763e1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1001" height="784" loading="lazy" alt="Jim Simons"> <figcaption>Health expert Aruna Uprety at a school algebra class in western Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  After the death of his sons, Jim Simons sought solace in solving mathematical puzzles in his head. One morning at the leafy Summit Hotel in Kathmandu, the proof came to him in a flash of a puzzle that had bedevilled him for a long time.&nbsp; ‘Jim was an exceptional leader who did transformative work in mathematics and developed a world-leading investment company,’ the <a href="https://www.simonsfoundation.org/2024/05/10/simons-foundation-co-founder-mathematician-and-investor-jim-simons-dies-at-86/" target="_blank">Simons Foundation</a> said in a statement announcing his death on Friday.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240515170536_e4c458bcc5f9daf7d8833bb0bffc98304224be100b88cde3ade7c7ae41067cd5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240515170536_e4c458bcc5f9daf7d8833bb0bffc98304224be100b88cde3ade7c7ae41067cd5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2008" height="1396" loading="lazy" alt="Jim Simons"> </figure>  Besides NSI, the <a href="https://www.nicksimonsfoundation.org/" target="_blank">Nick Simons Foundation</a> was involved in other health-related activities in Nepal, including building the new <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15138" target="_blank">maternity wing at Patan Hospital</a> and supporting <a href="https://www.nyayahealthnepal.org/" target="_blank">Nyaya Health Nepal (NHN)</a> that runs <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-rural-lifeline" target="_blank">Bayalpata Hospital in Achham District.</a>&nbsp; Jim Simons once said: “Nick opened up a whole new world to us. We have met so many wonderful people who otherwise we never would have known. Nepal is a gift that Nick gave us.”

Kunda Dixit

Jim Simons' gift to Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c2d9c7e80680e06b2e5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1536"/><figcaption>Geshe Sonam Wangchen in a scooter helmet distributing meals this week in Boudhanath. Photos: LISA CHOEGYAL</figcaption></figure>The web of wrinkles are etched deep into the soft bronzed face, a lifetime of gritty wind and harsh realities on the Tibetan plateau, smiling out of the phone screen. Brightly painted furniture frame her long plaited hair in a dimly lit room in Kham, a distant eastern province of Tibet on the far side of the Himalaya.Her son, Geshe Sonam Wangchen, beams back with delight, adjusts his dusty maroon monk’s robes and waves the phone in excitement, returning joyous Losar messages as he bears his mother aloft on the small monitor through the sprawling family home on the northern rim of the Kathmandu Valley.“Hey guys, say hello to your aunt in Tibet!” My sons Sangjay and Rinchen, dressed in festive brocade-trimmed raw-silk shirts, are bent over the low sitting room table behind towers of chips playing poker with their uncles and cousins – cards are dispensed with a flourish, intense conspiratorial concentration and whispers erupt into laughter as the tension releases at the end of each round.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c329c7e80680e06b2e6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Their grey-haired father and uncles are dressed more plainly in warm adventure gear and down waistcoats. Through the sliding glass doors, the light is fading pink. Engraved silver bowls laden with meat, nuts and dried fruit glow at their elbows. ‘Tashi delek and Happy New Year,’ they call to their cousin’s phone.Although only a couple of months ago, that afternoon seems like another era, BC (Before Corona). We have always regarded our nephew Sonam Wangchen as something of an unlikely hero, with flashes of saintliness. Ever since he returned in robes as Geshe after years of study for his advanced Buddhism degree at the transplanted Sera monastery on the steaming plains of Mysore, his life has been devoted to helping others in Nepal.No fuss, he just sees the need, hops on his battered scooter, and gets on with alleviating suffering in this imperfect world. The fourth son of my husband’s elder sister, he lived in the Tibet Children’s Village in Dharmasala before running away to become a monk. Serving as a translator for Sera’s leaders, Sonam Wangchen was known as Gelung for his selfless vows and aura of focussed compassion, attracting the admiration of donors who followed him and his tireless work to Kathmandu.For expediency on the job, Sonam Wangchen rearranges his robes with a utilitarian claret tee-shirt and red quilted jacket, topped with a bike helmet. Just like he used to hitch up his skirts to play a mean game of football with my boys in the garden during family gatherings.As a kid Sangjay collected money from college friends to assist the heroin detox centre in a modest Budhanilkantha house, and Rinchen saved pocket money to educate young children who had found shelter with him. After one visit I was haunted by an old man with a suppurating leg in a brace who had found refuge there, abandoned by his family.The scope of Sonam Wangchen’s work received a boost after the 2015 earthquakes when the quiet heroism of his Hope and Challenge NGO attracted ongoing support from donors inspired to make a difference though his hands-on achievements – mainly philanthropic individuals from around Asia, India and Nepal. His resolve never faltered, his grave, unflinching grin never far behind the sorrow.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c369c7e80680e06b2e7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c399c7e80680e06b2e8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Today, several expanded rehab centres offer drug and alcohol addiction treatment and counselling for inmates. From a humble rented room in Boudhanath, Geshe Sonam Wangchen and his NGO team provide drug prevention guidance in the Valley’s schools, medical advice and spiritual therapy. They run shelters for vulnerable aged people, and homes for children in need of protection and schooling.For many years one of their most effective and appreciated activities has been feeding the homeless and disabled, every day, around Boudhanath and Swayambhunath. Soon after lockdown last month, I called Geshe-la to see what was needed in these troubled times  – I imagine him impatiently fumbling amidst his dishevelled robes for the phone.“Hello Auntie” I wish he wouldn’t call me that, but his cheerful voice always makes me smile. “More food for the people who can’t find work,” was his immediate reply.The meal distribution stations operating on the streets of Boudhanath and Swayambhunath are overwhelmed with growing numbers of men, women and children turning up every day. They are not only handing out cooked meals, never turning anyone away, but also trying to provide care packages to sustain families – rice, dal and cooking oil.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/philanthropy-in-the-time-of-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Philanthropy in the time of pandemic,</a> Shristi KarkiAn email to Nepal-centric friends produced heart-warming results from both home and abroad – many relieved to contribute tangible assistance and to overcome our collective helplessness under these current constraints. Last night Sonam Wangchen called to thank me and the boys for generating extra funds, and sent a load of photos and videos of the suitably masked, socially-distanced, and hand-washing food lines. At dusk, our local hero was still busy.“Whoever wants to come they can come. It used to be homeless people for lunch, but now so many daily workers are hungry as they have no job  – it is very difficult. Many people are coming - we have to keep cooking from early morning to late evening. We are feeding over 1,000 people every day.”<a href="https://www.facebook.com/hopechallengeNepal" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.facebook.com/hopechallengeNepal&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587474191180000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGb56H1RZ6ZYHQwGIhJZbLoA6fMbg">Hope and Challenge</a>Nepal Investment Bank Ltd, Boudha, Kathmandu, NepalAccount name: Hope and Challenge, NCRs account number: 02401030255974, Swift code: NIBLNPKT

Lisa Choegyal

Feeding 1,000 a day in Kathmandu

<figure><img width="1800" height="1472" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912118/636b8afd9c7e80680e06b273jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: RSS</figcaption></figure>At <a href="https://www.google.com/url?client=internal-element-cse&amp;cx=011870630917993763279:opm7uqsat-4&amp;q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/home-health-care-during-a-lockdown/&amp;sa=U&amp;ved=2ahUKEwid6dLzsd3oAhUQ8HMBHRP-BbUQFjAAegQIABAC&amp;usg=AOvVaw2O5915jE54QrAp88TUQt17" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Health at Home</a>  the phone lines open at 7am ever day. Within minutes the calls start coming in. Five volunteer doctors are online to take the average 500 calls a day from people all over the country concerned about coronavirus symptoms.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://dalle.com.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dalle Momo</a>, the dumpling company, prepares 250 meals a day at its central kitchen at Ratopul and distributes them to security personnel <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/confusion-persists-about-lockdown-rules/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">enforcing the lockdown</a> at intersections across Kathmandu, to frontline health workers at the Sukraraj Tropical and Infectious Disease Hospital in Teku, and homeless people in the Valley.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.zonta.org/Local-Action/Local-Service-Advocacy/Detail/zonta-club-of-kathmandu-hosts-event-to-honor-local-women-on-rose-day-2018" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Zonta Club of Kathmandu</a> also prepares food packages and has partnered with several NGOs to distribute daily 1,000 meals to daily-wage earners who are out of jobs. Each packet includes basic food items like rice, lentil, salt, sugar, tea, and oil.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/back-to-the-future-of-farming/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Back to the future of farming</a>, Editorial<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/work-for-food/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Work for food</a>, Anil ChitrakarThe private sector and non-profit organisations have all been stepping up their activities to help security forces, health workers and daily-wage workers since the nation-wide lockdown began on 24 March.Bishal Dhakal, founder of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/caring-for-those-who-cared/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Health at Home</a>,  says he started the call-in service since people across the country -- especially those in rural areas with no direct access to doctors, decided to set up a telephone triage service so that people can get a free counseling from medical professionals about their symptoms. Health at Home partnered with Ncell so that the incoming calls can be free.At a time when <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/awareness-high-among-nepalis-about-virus/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">public concern about the pandemic is high</a>  the service has not only been a way for people to talk to doctors about their symptoms, but also a source of reassurance.“It has become like a counselling platform,” Dhakal says of the telephone triage. “This has been a support network for people in that it has helped with people dealing with the anxiety and stress that they might be feeling during this time.”<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/awareness-high-among-nepalis-about-virus/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Awareness high among Nepalis about virus</a>The call-in service helps screen <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/returnees-may-be-taking-coronavirus-to-rural-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">potential COVID-19 patients</a> for testing and take the pressure off of hospitals as they tend to get overcrowded with patients suspecting they have the coronavirus, which in turn increases the risk of infections spreading more widely. <figure><img width="640" height="489" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121112/636b8b009c7e80680e06b274jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="640" height="486" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121112/636b8b039c7e80680e06b275jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Subhash Gauchan, co-founder of Dalle Momo, says his company began providing meals with the intention of using its remaining stock of raw material to feed whomever they could instead of letting it go to waste. But then it evolved into something bigger.“A lot of people have come forward and asked how they could help,” Gauchan told Nepali Times over the phone. “They have been stepping up to provide fresh vegetables, which is what we need the most. So, we decided that we would continue doing this for as long as we are able.”Although Nepal seems to have been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/could-an-anti-tb-vaccine-be-protecting-nepalis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">spared from a more aggressive spread of the coronavirus so far</a>,  Nepalis are set to be significantly affected financially by the pandemic, with daily-wage workers bearing the brunt of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-covid-19-relief-package/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the economic fallout</a>. Non-profits like the Zonta Club of Kathmandu have been reaching out to daily wage workers affected by the lockdown.Zonta’s Kamal Kesari Tuladhar says people have constantly been reaching out to offer help and that they were able to raise Rs1.5 million in 2 days. “My initial target was 300 food packages, but the response has been so overwhelming that we are distributing 1,000. As long as the help keeps coming, we will continue this, because people need it.” <a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/common-sense-is-uncommon-in-fighting-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Common sense is uncommon in fighting COVID-19</a>, Anil Chitrakar <figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121112/636b8b069c7e80680e06b276jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Siddhant Pandey, CEO of the private equity company <a href="https://bo2.com.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Business Oxygen</a>,  says private sector philanthropy is more important than ever in these unprecedented times. But some companies that have tried to gain widespread publicity from their ‘corporate social responsibility’ have been trolled in social media for seeking promotion mileage rather than genuinely helping.But Pandey says that while some companies might be stepping up their philanthropic efforts  for publicity, it does encourage others to come forward and to provide help as well.“At this point, we need to think rationally,” says Pandey. “Providing urgent food, services, information, and medical equipment is the need of the hour right now.”

Shristi Karki

Philanthropy in the time of pandemic

https://youtu.be/TjoXT_Pu2koWith its new highway to the north, Surkhet has become the gateway to the Karnali and is morphing into a boomtown. But 10 minutes out of the dusty, bustling city nestled amidst a terraced landscape, the Kopila Valley School (KVS) is a functioning model for the rest of Nepal on how schools should be built and administered.At a time when progress is marked by the rise of glass and concrete structures, the school employs rammed-earth technology with an ecofriendly philosophy that uses local materials for construction, harnesses the sun and sewage for energy, harvests rainwater and minimises waste.But even founder Maggie Doyne at first needed convincing by architect Prabal Thapa to accept a mud design for the buildings. Her vision of an environment-friendly school was one made of bamboo, like the Green School she had seen in Bali.“Look, we’re not in Bali,” Thapa told her. “We are in Nepal, and Nepal is known for mountains. With rammed earth, you’re making mountains.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal’s schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/lowest-common-denominator/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lowest common denominator</a>, Editorial<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41ae9c7e80680e04a68cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1049"/><figcaption>All photos: SHEILIN TEO</figcaption></figure>Rammed earth provides excellent thermal mass to keep temperature stable indoors, it uses local material and labour, the structure is durable and easy to maintain. The walls are nearly 0.5m thick, and reinforced with steel and concrete banding for seismic resistance.“We wanted the school to feel Nepali through and through, to stay true to local architecture that is so stunningly beautiful,” explains Doyne, showing us around the campus.The two-storey school blocks are simple and rectangular, with gabled roofs, breezy stairwells, and are connected by corridors on one side, much like traditional farmhouses in Nepal. The buildings are designed as modular blocks that can be arranged in various ways to suit the landscape and functions required by the school. The simplicity and repeatability of the modules were important considerations to allow ease of building by unskilled local labourers, many of them women trained on the job.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41b19c7e80680e04a68djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5000" height="1784"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Standing within the grounds, it becomes clear why buildings were sited as they were: they form a protective coterie around a central sports court and create ancillary terraces where children play. The topography creates opportunities for passive surveillance from the administrative block that sits towards the top of the sloping site, and plenty of gathering and resting places along stone-lined steps that double as bleachers overlooking play areas and gardens. When children pour out of their classrooms, they tumble across the sports court and down the stairs, bobbing along ramps that slice across the school’s terrace walls brightly coloured in house colours of reds, blues, yellows and greens.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19495#.XOah1BYzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Bhaktapur</a>, Lukas Grimm<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12450#.XOahzhYzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mud, glorious mud</a>, Nripal Adhikari“Construction was so difficult, and the only thing that got us through the really hard moments was knowing that one day there would be kids in these classrooms,” Doyne says, explaining that complications in scheduling, budgets and differences of opinion about expectations and work values of intercultural and international teams proved to be challenges.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41b49c7e80680e04a68ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2500" height="2174"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The project is not just a simple school. Strengthened with steel, stabilised with cement and concrete, fitted with high performance, durable windows, the school buildings called for experience and skills beyond those required by a traditional project. More advanced, outside-the-box technology gives the campus an edge of self-sufficiency, ease of maintenance and durability.Green technology comes at a cost, with lengthy payback periods that are possibly out of reach of most other schools in Nepal, but are easily adaptable to the local context: filtration systems, biogas, rainwater harvesting by Smart Paani, and solar systems by Sun Farmer. At Kopila, all these design elements are integrated in the school’s new buildings, their functions and terrain, giving the school its green edge.“I feel that this campus has so much integrity. Every step of the way, we made decisions that were sometimes hard, or that had cost implications, or we had to forgo certain things in order to have others, but there’s nothing I would change,” says Doyne.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/learning-from-nepals-past-to-rebuild-its-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Learning from Nepal’s past to rebuild its future</a>, Prakriti Kandel<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lost in reconstruction</a>, Shiva UpretyThis approach is not limited to the physical design of the school; its curriculum is also grounded in place-based learning that adapts Nepal’s national curriculum to the school’s philosophy. Principal Naim Chaudhari explains: “It is about trying to integrate what we find in the community, what we can learn from and what we can give back to it. After all, when the children graduate they go into the community and they will live there. That is where they will grow further.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41b89c7e80680e04a68fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050">The school has a farm and a vocational focus, and the students learn at least one skill each year from among cooking, washing, cleaning, driving, farming, agro-forestry, animal husbandry, horticulture, welding, woodwork, machine work and electrical skills.“When our children graduate from here, they should either go for further studies or be able to find a job,” says Chaudhari.The school includes Grades 1-10 and an Early Childhood Village that focuses on self-learning through play and exploration. The older ‘plus-two’ students are still in an old bamboo school by the highway, but there are plans to bring them into the new buildings.The school’s design allows the new classrooms to blend into the greenery, preserving the productive fruiting trees on site. Just as village life still clings to the fringes of Surkhet, the school’s program extends to the students’ families, farms and the community.“We are a full service community school,” Doyne explains. “It is not just for the kids who study here — we want to bring the community in. This buildings belong to them, and I hope it makes them think about what they ultimately build someday. Just like Bali inspired Kopila, I hope that there will be other schools like this in Nepal, because this one existed.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/class-struggle/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Class struggle</a>, Prakriti Kandel<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/building-back-cheaper-and-stronger/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Building back cheaper and stronger</a>, Sapana Shakya and Aman Raj KhatakhoMaggie's missionIn 2005 when she was 19, Maggie Doyne was trekking in Nepal when she met Hima, a child worker. That started Doyne's Nepal journey, and her efforts to help children go to school eventually expanded to setting up Kopila Valley School and its sister initiatives in Surkhet.Doyne was named the 2014 Unsung Hero of Compassion, awarded by the Dalai Lama, and won the 2015 CNN Hero of the Year Award. Kopila is funded by The BlinkNow Foundation, a non-profit Doyne founded in 2007 as part of a network of initiatives comprising a children’s home, housing for at-risk girls, a training centre for women and a health clinic. KVS admits primarily children from disadvantaged backgrounds, providing for their education and welfare needs. It also runs a Futures Program to teach life skills, and provides vocational and academic support for senior students.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41bb9c7e80680e04a690jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="400" height="400"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41bc9c7e80680e04a691jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1602"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41c09c7e80680e04a692jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="961">Sun roofConcentrated solar panels on the roof of the canteen, by Sunworks Nepal, power cookers in the kitchen and replace Rs60,000 worth of LPG per year. Gas is still used as backup, but it is methane from a digester hidden under the artificial turf of a sports court, fed by effluent from the toilets. Irrigation for the school’s vegetable garden and landscaping comes from black and grey-water filtration beds. Rainwater from the roofs is harvested into a 300,000l water storage tank under the school canteen, designed to fill all water needs for a year. Arrays of solar photovoltaics power the school, backed up by a diesel generator. Compost from black-water waste is used to grow the KVS’s organic produce.

Starting Nepal’s green school movement

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

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.

Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier

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.”