This is the 61st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. I interrupted my Grade 11 education to go to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-malaysia-nepal-migrant-scam-nexus">Malaysia</a> to work as a security guard. During <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/uproar-over-maoist-war-anniversary-holiday">the Maoist era </a>the environment in my college was not conducive to studies. I stayed on in Malaysia for eight years.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance?wptouch_preview_theme=enabled">Overseas earnings</a> helped me support my family and buy land, and more importantly, to spend on the treatment of my father’s heart condition. Our duty was 12 hours and we were on our feet all day checking in visitors and employees at the gate. Nights were slow and all we did was walk around with our <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-street-smart-dogs">dogs</a> and check every hour on our radios. Sometimes, the boys also sang <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-folk-songs-move-beyond-love-and-loss">dohori </a>over the radio as we passed the long nights.&nbsp; One memorable part of my security job was that we were each assigned a dog, and were also evaluated on how well we trained them. My dog’s name was Amy and I grew very fond of her over the years. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/must-love-dogs?fbclid=IwAR1WFHDdcYJoe29GVP03I9ojdftlNqmYiGU5RDfk9ytBxNo8oC35kutToy8_aem_AeAxkQFtD1IKZSXPX6eijBytfPIihI2PVfhxDqyfbN3ZlnybtV5e82Va9-Or_rSCXbk">Must love dogs</a>, Eliza Sthapit During drills, we wore protective clothes that prevented us from getting hurt if we were bitten, and as a lightweight, I was easily attacked and trampled. But I was sent home unexpectedly because I had encouraged new <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-overseas-workers-who-remain-behind">Nepali workers </a>to demand <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-welcomes-qatar-labour-reform">higher wages</a> since they were paid less than me for similar work. That felt unfair, but no one wants a foreign rabble rouser.&nbsp; For some time after being sent back abruptly, I felt bad because I was not mentally prepared to come home. I had planned to stay for another two years, and had made earning plans accordingly.&nbsp; For a year in Nepal, I studied for the EPS which was started in 2008. Going to Korea had not picked up strongly then. I saw my friends and villagers <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-wait-over-nepalis-return-to-korea">migrating to Korea</a> one by one, and decided to give it a try. In Korean language class, the teacher used to say “Anyhow कोरिया जौँ”, and all we wanted to do was get to Korea. We had to study hard and I gave it my all. I used to write the Korean names for every object so it was etched in my memory. Whether it was a phone or bucket or plate, it would have the Korean word for it and my walls and ceiling were full of Korean words. I passed.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal?amp=1">Bringing Korea’s prosperity to Nepal</a> My migration to Korea was a bit dramatic. It was two days after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake">the earthquake</a>, and we were at the EPS office in Gwarko for our documents and caps and tshirts. I did not get to properly shop for Korea. Even though I was unprepared for the trip, the frequent aftershocks and the closeness of death made me desperate to leave. I was relieved to get on the plane and escape. In Korea, I grew capsicum. The work was easy, except for a couple of months. Night duty as a security guard in Malaysia made it difficult to pass time, but in Korea, I was working around the clock and lost track of the hours. My wife and I studied in the same <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/languages-are-both-software-and-hardware">language school</a> in Nepal. She was assigned to a strawberry farm. We got married in Nepal a few years later, and wanted to work together.&nbsp; I found a new job in a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/pigs-fly-and-fish-climb-trees">pig farm</a>, where I asked my employer about the possibility of bringing my wife to the same company and he said that if he was happy with my work, he would hire her.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040312_24a4996cf7e2654637b707a52e1fe3e17932fb44991587b04a736b0328e43404.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250321040312_24a4996cf7e2654637b707a52e1fe3e17932fb44991587b04a736b0328e43404" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="The meat of the story NT"> </figure>  That was enough incentive for me to work extra hard and I picked things up fast which made my employer happy. That’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">how it is overseas</a>: things are easier if you win the confidence of your employer. They eventually hired my wife, with whom I worked together for two-and-a-half years. My employer increasingly relied on me while also investing heavily in our knowledge and growth.&nbsp; Every morning, he used to teach us about pig farming for an hour or two, which has been invaluable for us till today, covering a range of topics including raising piglets, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-is-there-vaccine-hesitancy-in-nepal">vaccination</a>, artificial insemination and how to breed them on rotation. He was full of good life advice, too, including for our post-return plans. In 2020, we decided to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what">come back to Nepal</a>. By this point, I felt like I had learnt everything that I needed to know about pig farming. My wife and I wanted to run a pig farm in Nepal on a rotational system, something that is not practiced widely here which puts <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/farm-subsidies-money-down-the-drain">farmers at a financial disadvantage</a>. We returned to Nepal during<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-goes-into-lockdown-for-a-week"> the early stages of Covid</a>. It is strange how I left during an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/earthquake-vacates-villages-in-nepal">earthquake</a> and returned five years later to another crisis. After eight months we started our Unnati Bangur Hamro Bangur Farm in Panauti. Just as things were picking up, we had to go through a devastating loss when the African swine fever hit Nepal. Back then, I was spending all my time in the hospital because my newborn had a heart condition, and four months after his birth, he passed.&nbsp; There was African swine flu detected in my farm, after which we had to shut it down for almost a year. These multiple losses took my wife and me to a dark place for months, before we had to gather ourselves up and restart work. Thankfully, things are going better now. This is the nature of business, you need to exercise patience. Things are not constant. Profit, loss. Supply, demand.&nbsp; Rates of meat have gone up now because many farmers exited the market after the swine fever. We were patient, and now get significantly better rates which has helped us recover. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/meat-money-and-the-middle-class">Meat, money, and the middle class</a> The meat available in regular meat shops is very different from what we offer because our pigs are fed quality feed, not waste, and are given proper vaccinations. We have good buyers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal?amp=1">Hankook Meat Shop run by fellow Korean returnees</a> who look for quality produce.&nbsp; The challenge of working in Nepal is that there is no proper differentiation by quality of meat, and no traceability to the farms producing the meat which makes farmers less accountable for consumers’ health. It harms those &nbsp;practicing ethical farming. Manufacturing is more popular in Korea among Nepali EPS workers, but it is work in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/aid-rarely-aids-agriculture-in-nepal">the agriculture sector </a>that is more useful after return. I brought most of my equipment from Korea along with me.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/social-remittance">Social remittance</a>, Upasana Khadka&nbsp; When we returned for good, our suitcases had no personal items like chocolates or electronics, they were full of farming equipment like vaccine guns and pig tooth nippers. &nbsp; Even now, I tell my friends in Korea to bring me farm equipment when they come home on breaks, and that I will buy them the usual blankets and chocolates to gift to their families in Nepal itself. &nbsp;&nbsp;

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The meat of the story

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d0a9c7e80680e0c964fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"/><figcaption>PHOTOS: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>Karna Maya Pun could have been anything in her life: a landowner, a migrant worker in Korea, or an emigrant to the UK.Perhaps even a nurse, or a teacher. Instead, she is a farmer in Nepal and has no regrets.With her husband Jag Bahadur Paija, she runs the Garar Ekikrit Pashupankshi Tatha Krishi Farm in Tilottama, carving out a niche rearing organic fish and running a modern pig farm.“It would have been easy for me to sell a plot of land or live abroad, but that isn’t a life for me,” says Karna Maya. “I want my children to learn that people should live by virtue of their own hard work, and the best way for them to do that is by seeing us do it.”Every morning, rain or shine, the couple wakes up at 4AM to tend to the 100 pigs in the farm and the three fish ponds. They have to clean the pig sty, fill troughs with leftovers, aerate the ponds, and feed the fish. Then, they check the fry in the fish nursery.By the time all these chores are done, it is usually early afternoon. But for Karna Maya and Jag Bahadur, the workday is just beginning.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dont-give-up-on-nepal-it-has-lots-to-offer/">Don’t give up on Nepal, it has lots to offer</a>, Sahina Shrestha<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d0d9c7e80680e0c9650jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d109c7e80680e0c9651jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d129c7e80680e0c9652jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d169c7e80680e0c9653jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1075" height="640">“I started tilling the soil at a very young age, and for a long time that is all I knew how to do,” says Jag Bahadur, whose parents thought his time was better utilised in the field than in the classroom, so he never really studied seriously at school. For him, farming is a return to his roots.Following the footsteps of the men in his family, he tried for the Indian army. And, although he was selected, he dropped out after finding the environment oppressive. “We had to obey orders and agree to everything, even if they said pigs can fly and fish climb trees. That was not the life for me, so I quit,” he recalls.In 1995, like many others from his village, he went to Qatar to seek his fortune. For the young man from the mountains of Myagdi, working outdoors in 48°C heat was difficult. He did not know the language, and it was hard to deal with management. He broke stones outdoors all day with his calloused hands.One day, he found someone’s folder with a wallet and documents. He took it to the office, where the staff was impressed by his honesty. He got a reward and was given an opportunity to train as a driver for the managers.“I was the only one who had two jobs in the company: an office boy and a driver. It was easier than having to do physical labour out in the heat,” says Jag Bahadur.After five years in Qatar, he returned to Nepal and married Karna Maya. Thirty-five days after the wedding, he was on a plane again. This time to Korea.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/life-in-a-pickle/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Life in a pickle</a>, Sahina Shrestha<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d189c7e80680e0c9654jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="587" height="391"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d199c7e80680e0c9655jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="657" height="420">Karna Maya and Jag Bahadur in 2006. Photo courtesy: Karna Maya PunKarna Maya also had a difficult childhood in Myagdi. There was no school in her village, no road and no hospital. Collecting fodder for the animals would take the whole day as she had to walk hours to fetch water.“All we knew in the village was that men either went abroad to work or took the livestock up to high pastures in summer,” recalls Karna Maya. “There wasn’t much to do there.”One evening, Karna Maya’s mother was returning home with a load of grass on her back when she fell off a cliff. By the time the villagers rescued and brought her home, she was dead. Her father who worked in the Indian Army came home, collected the five children, and took them to India where he enrolled them in school.Karna Maya had never attended class and, even though she was older than most other students, she tried to learn what she could. After retiring from the army, Maya's father left again for Sikkim for work. She completed high school from Jhansi in India and returned to Nepal hoping to enroll in nursing school. But her Indian certificate was not recognised: so, she started teaching.Then, one day, she saw a stranger with a thick mustache in her village. She remembers joking about his looks with her cousins. Soon, that man became her husband and nine months later their daughter was born.Karna Maya’s in-laws wanted her to stay home and look after the family, but money was tight. So, in 1997, she flew to Korea for work. At Seoul airport, Nepali migrant workers were collected and taken to a warehouse, where representatives from their companies picked them up. “I cried when I saw this. It felt like the goat market where people came and picked up animals for slaughter,” she remembers. “Some left in cars, others were silently led off by their employers.”Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/money-grows-on-trees-here/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Money grows on trees here</a>, Sahina ShresthaAlthough she was in the same country as her husband, the couple lived and worked in different cities. Jag Bahadur was undocumented, so it was not possible for them to meet frequently. Karna Maya worked in Korea for four years before returning to Nepal. Two years later, Jag Bahadur followed suit.“In Korea, I realised Nepalis went on a ‘D3 visa’, dirty, difficult and dangerous, especially if they were working illegally,” says Karna Maya.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d1b9c7e80680e0c9656jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="960">Jag Bahadur’s father, a retired British Army Gurkha, and mother were preparing to settle in the UK. But the couple refused to go with them. “We are not well-educated and the most we could expect to do once we got there was wash dishes or work in someone’s house. I felt like we could do better if we stayed back,” says Karna Maya.But having lived abroad for so long, they did not know anyone in Nepal and did not have enough capital or skill to start a business. Jag Bahadur once again went abroad, this time to Abu Dhabi. His salary of Rs30,000 was barely enough to cover expenses at home.Karna Maya opened a clothing store but, since she had to take care of the house and children, her shop remained closed during the peak hours. She called her husband back to Nepal and the two discussed their next move.Jag Bahadur wanted to buy a twelve-wheeler truck and drive it around the country. Karna Maya and the family opposed the idea.“There was a time when we did not even have Rs500 in our pockets. People looked at our house and land and refused to believe we did not have money for daily expenses. Those were the most difficult days,” says Jag Bahadur. Meanwhile, Jag Bahadur’s parents in the UK kept asking the couple to relocate too. “They called me mad for staying on in Nepal, and accused me of making my husband lose his mind as well,” says Karna Maya.Out of work and in desperate need of money, the two decided to use the land they had. Sitting idly at home was not an option, neither was selling land because they thought that would make them lazy. After considering the options, they dived into farming.The first year they invested Rs100,000 to grow wheat and maize but after a whole year of working in the fields they made just Rs10,000 in profit. They decided to start fish farming, but, since they couldn’t afford to hire workers, they dug the ponds and ferried pipes themselves.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/proud-to-give-back-to-nepal/">Proud to give back to Nepal</a>, Nepali Times<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d1e9c7e80680e0c9657jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d219c7e80680e0c9658jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="166" height="168">Without experience they suffered initial setbacks, but today they earn Rs70,000 a month selling fish to markets in Bhairawa, Parasi and locally. Earlier this year, they added pigs to their farm and constructed a modern sty that ensures a cleaner environment and healthier animals. They have extrapolated a yearly income of Rs500,000 once the pigs are ready.There are big plans: a biogas plant that uses pig slurry and farm waste, and buying a vehicle to ferry produce to market. They are also focusing on their children’s education.In August, their daughter Linda left to pursue higher education in the UK. And, while not busy with school, they involve their 10-year-old son Linus in the business so that he feels ownership of the farm and aquires skills to fall back on.“Our previous generations taught us that our only option was to go abroad, but we want to teach our children that there are many opportunities here in Nepal,” says Karna Maya. “I will only go abroad for my daughter’s graduation."Jag Bahadur says from nearby, “I won't go even then. It’s too busy here on the farm.”Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-to-save-my-sisters-life/">Saving to save my sister</a>, Nepali Times

Pigs fly and fish climb trees

There were two Bhutans on display during Narendra Modi’s visit this month. The first: a trusted partner, modernising rapidly with Indian support, inaugurating hydroelectric projects, and signing healthcare deals. The second: a nation that <a href="https://www.fmreview.org/gazmere-bishwo/#:~:text=In%201990%2D91%2C%20about%20a,are%20therefore%20not%20Bhutanese%20citizens.">ethnically cleansed 17% of its population </a>and has never been held accountable.
Modi chose to see only the <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-concludes-bhutan-visit-with-prayers-for-peace-and-prosperity">first </a>during his <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-announces-rs-4000-cr-concessional-credit-line-to-fund-energy-projects-in-bhutan/articleshow/125253915.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&amp;utm_medium=text&amp;utm_campaign=cppst">11-12 November visit</a>, granting $450 million in credit, offering birthday tributes to Fourth King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, and inaugurating another hydropower project.
New Delhi has opted for strategic silence on Bhutan’s systematic persecution of the Lhotshampas in the 1990s. The displaced remain scattered across the world and in refugee camps in Nepal, their property seized, their citizenship revoked.&nbsp;
Now, on that same contested land Bhutan is building the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Gelephu Mindful City (GMC)</a>, a megaproject intended to <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-announces-inr-40-billion-credit-line-new-rail-links-and-land-for-bhutanese-temple-in-varanasi">connect directly to Indian infrastructure</a>. The victims are gone, and democratic India’s values remain conspicuously absent.&nbsp;
With no Lhotshampas left to challenge the official narrative and India unwilling to raise it, Bhutan continues to suppress dissent with impunity.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, social media influencer Raghu Pati Subedi was arrested on the Assam side of Gelephu after returning from a visit to relatives in India. His family members reportedly came under intense pressure, including threats of arrest, accusing them of hiding his whereabouts. After his arrest, he was transported to Thimphu and imprisoned.
This was not an isolated incident. It is part of systemic repression that first gained international attention in the 1990s, when over 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa were systematically stripped of their citizenship and forcibly exiled. This mass expulsion, which human rights organisations have characterised as ethnic cleansing, created a decades-long refugee crisis that continues to define the regional political and human rights landscape.&nbsp;
EXODUS
The Lhotshampa crisis of the 1990s was not a spontaneous event but the culmination of years of state-led discrimination. Through a series of legislative acts, notably the 1985 Citizenship Act and the 1989 Driglam Namzha, the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy, the Bhutanese state systematically dismantled the rights of its Nepali-speaking citizens.&nbsp;
The use of the Nepali language was suppressed, the traditional dress of the ruling ethnic group was mandated, and citizenship was revoked en masse, rendering a significant portion of the population stateless in their own homeland.
The new manuscript I am editing has harrowing accounts by the authors of those atrocities. The parallels with what happened to Subedi recently are striking and troubling, showing that even after 35 years the regime has not changed its spots. The methods may have evolved, but the repression against dissidents remains disturbingly consistent.
This refugee exodus was an immense and unasked-for burden on Nepal. Despite being a country grappling with its own political instability and limited resources, Nepal accommodated them on humanitarian grounds. Nepal has consistently advocated for a durable solution centered on the refugees’ right to safe, voluntary, and dignified repatriation.
For years, it engaged in bilateral talks with Bhutan, culminating in a joint verification process. However, these efforts ultimately foundered on what Nepal described as ‘continued rigidity and non-implementation of the agreed decisions by the Bhutanese side’.
Nepal fulfilled its moral and humanitarian duty, but the international community largely failed to hold Bhutan accountable. Bhutan’s rulers deflected global attention with the masterful narrative of Gross National Happiness (GNH), while the grim reality in the refugee camps persisted.&nbsp;
Ultimately, with repatriation proving impossible, Nepal acquiesced to a third-country resettlement program led by a group of eight countries, including the United States, Canada, and Australia. From 2007 to 2016, more than 113,500 Bhutanese refugees were resettled in <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/media/nepal-factsheet">one of the largest group resettlement programmes globally</a>, though 6,365 remain in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.
While this solution provided a lifeline for thousands, it was a tragic capitulation to Bhutan’s ethnic homogenisation project. The refugees’ right to return to their homeland has been denied. It is a cautionary tale about the limits of international diplomacy in the face of state intransigence.
Bhutan’s global brand is one of its most successful exports. The <a href="https://www.gnhcentrebhutan.org/">Gross National Happiness </a>doctrine, which promotes holistic well-being over just economic growth, has captivated the Western imagination and policymakers. It offers a vision of a mindful, environmentally conscious, and peaceful Himalayan kingdom. This carefully cultivated image has historically aimed to shield Bhutan from the level of scrutiny applied to other nations with similar human rights records.
The GNH facade, however, cracks under the weight of documented evidence. The same kingdom that champions ‘happiness’ has, for decades, maintained a justice system that human rights groups allege relies on torture, coerced confessions, and draconian laws to silence opposition.
The 1992 National Security Act, with its vague definitions of ‘treasonable acts’ against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (King, Country, and People), has been a primary tool for suppressing political dissent, particularly from the Lhotshampa.
Overlooked by the international community and ignored by global powers including India, in responding robustly to the ethnic cleansing of the 1990s sent a clear message to Thimphu: such actions could be undertaken with impunity. The monarchy emerged unscathed, its reputation burnished rather than tarnished.&nbsp;
This historical impunity now echoes in the case of Raghu Pati Subedi and the <a href="https://www.cijnepal.org/new-list-of-political-prisoners-expected-to-set-off-discussion-on-bhutans-human-rights-record">continued imprisonment of dozens of political prisoners</a> of conscience. The global community’s reluctance to challenge the GNH narrative has, in effect, become a form of complicity.
The arrest and sentencing of a social media influencer demonstrates how old tactics have been adapted for the digital age. Subedi, 40, was a new kind of threat to the state-controlled narrative and he had to be made an example of.&nbsp;
As the founder and administrator of the popular Facebook page ‘The Don of Asia’, he bypassed traditional, state-influenced media to speak directly to about 78,000 followers. His content, informational and satirical videos on rural poverty, corruption, and the GMC project, was the kind of social media activism that was deemed intolerable.
Subedi was arrested in early 2025 and sentenced to 24 years in prison. The charges allegedly stemmed from Subedi’s social media criticism of the GMC, a flagship project of Nepal-born Bhutanese fifth King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://thenewamericansmag.com/2024/11/18/the-kings-gelephu-mindfulness-city/#:~:text=Ganga%20Lamitare%2C%20who%20owns%20four,ancestors%20in%20building%20the%20nation.">Bhutanese refugees like Gangaram Lamitare</a>, the GMC represents a bitter irony, a development rising on their confiscated ancestral lands.&nbsp;
Gangaram, who owns four acres where the GMC’s international airport is now under construction, says: “Many people from villages fled at night in 1990, leaving everything behind to escape oppression. Now, the Bhutanese king and ministers are spreading falsehoods worldwide, calling this land vacant, which actually belongs to those forced to leave the country.”&nbsp;
There are signs that international support that has benefited Bhutan may be waning. The United Nations has become increasingly vocal and last year the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/documents/issues/detention-wg/opinions/session101/a-hrc-wgad-60-2024-bhutan-advance-edited-ve.pdf">UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the detention of several Bhutanese political prisoners was arbitrary and illegal under international law.&nbsp;
In April 2025 from a group of six UN human rights experts raised grave concerns about the use of torture, denial of fair trials, and the ‘severe chilling effect’ of Bhutan’s legal framework on civic space. These developments owe much to the consistent advocacy of the Hague-based Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) since its formation.
However, they also reflect broader shifts in international human rights scrutiny. This places Bhutan’s key international partners, particularly the European Union, in a critical position. Bhutan enjoys lucrative benefits under the EU’s ‘Everything but Arms’ trade scheme, which grants developing countries tariff-free access to the EU market contingent on respect for human rights.&nbsp;
The EU is also a significant provider of development aid to Bhutan which provides it with substantial leverage. In April 2025, members of the <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/saskiabricmont.bsky.social/post/3lmrn5mkmrs2q">European Parliament formally called on Bhutan</a> to release all political prisoners. This action signals a growing recognition that trade and partnership cannot be divorced from human rights obligations.&nbsp;
“Bhutan’s international partners and investors, including the EU, should make it clear that they expect Bhutan to comply with its human rights obligations and release them without further delay,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, of Human Rights Watch.&nbsp;
Bhutan stands at a crossroads. Its desire for deeper global economic integration is colliding with its unresolved history of human rights abuses. The international community now has a choice: either continue being charmed by the myth of a happy shangri-la or insist that the kingdom adheres to democratic values it professes to the world.&nbsp;
Nepal’s recent Gen-Z uprising offers a lesson to Bhutan. In September, when authorities attempted to ban 26 social media, Nepali youth took to the streets and, within hours, toppled the entire pro-establishment political apparatus. Their message was clear: in an age of digital connectivity and mass mobilisation, authoritarian tactics such as detaining social media influencers are both unjust and ultimately unsustainable.
This incident echoes the prophetic warnings of Devi Bhakta Lamitare, Bhutan’s first-generation democratic leader, who died in exile in India in 2022. In his seminal 1970 book
Dankindo Bhutan, Lamitare chronicled the systematic suppression of people’s rights and envisioned a path toward liberation.
Before his death, I worked with him to update and edit this work, which the Bhutan Media Society published posthumously in 2023. In a December 2020 interview I conducted for the book on the Ganga riverbank in Haridwar, Lamitare laid out a stark three-front offensive: political mobilisation from within India to awaken resistance inside Bhutan itself, relentless pressure on New Delhi to champion democracy, and a global ‘pamphlet war’ waged by resettled Bhutanese in the West.&nbsp;
Only through such sustained action, he argues, can Bhutanese citizens win the right to choose their own rulers, a principle India, the world’s largest democracy, should be championing, not abandoning.
Binod Dhungel is the Nepal correspondent for Reporters Without Borders.
<a href="http://linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod" target="_blank">linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod</a>, @BinodDhungel

Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

Too little snow, too much rain

The September protests and worry about what is in store for Nepal in 2026 have added more uncertainty to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-to-use-its-money-better">struggling economy</a>. Real estate transactions are stagnant, industries are operating below capacity because of declining domestic demand, the construction sector is slack, and investors are in wait-and-watch mode. In contrast, total bank deposits increased by Rs124 billion in the month before mid-October to Rs7.4 trillion. Official remittance inflows hit a record $13 billion in the past year. Nepal’s banks are flush with cash, with nowhere to put it. &nbsp; “The economy has flatlined. Non-performing assets are up, and real estate is at a standstill,” said Ashoke SJB Rana, CEO of Himalayan Bank.“There is excess liquidity in the market, with not many places to invest.” The main reason seems to be that both <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/relocate-reallocate-recover">domestic and foreign investors were spooked</a> by the targeted violence of 9 September, and are so worried about the runup to elections in March that they are holding on to their wallets. Not just businesses, the political uncertainty is keeping individuals &nbsp;from making big financial decisions.&nbsp; Sujeev Shakya, author of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/retrofitting-nepal-for-future-shocks">newly-released book Nepal 2043</a>, notes that the current doldrum is due to Nepalis playing it safe with their money. &nbsp; “People are holding on to their assets, and keeping their cash,” he says. “They are not investing in real estate, and avoiding buying gold because it is so volatile.”&nbsp; One sector in which banks have a lot of exposure is hydroelectricity, but even here recent floods have shown that this investment is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/global-warning-bell-in-belem">increasingly at risk from climate breakdown</a>.&nbsp; Nabil Bank, with its focus on sustainable banking, for instance, has financed 56 hydropower projects with an installed capacity of 3,000MW.&nbsp; Says Nabil CEO Manoj Kumar Gyawali: “We cannot ignore unpredictable rainfall, increased glacier melt, more frequent glacier lake outburst floods, and landslides. These risks mean that while hydropower is essential, Nepal must diversify its energy mix." &nbsp;&nbsp; An open secret in the banking sector is that much of the liquidity is supected laundered money. Banks also have close ownership links with big businesses, and this means that even with a slow economy, banks lend to themselves or to each other to keep transaction volumes up.&nbsp; This is one reason for a high default rate. In the first three months of this fiscal year, 4.86% of bank loans were non-performing, meaning one out of about every 20 borrowers had defaulted. A year ago, this figure was 4.04%. Banks are therefore reluctant to lend, dampening the overall investment climate. &nbsp; Ironically, the high default rate is keeping mainstream newspapers in Nepal afloat at a time when the media business is also in crisis. Even as they suffer from a massive drop in advertising revenue, most daily newspapers often add pages to fit notices to borrowers about repayment, or announcements of bank auctions of collateral property. “While banks may be making a much smaller percentage of income compared to a few decades ago, they are still making a profit,” notes Shakya. “And so they are actually quite happy to be in this low-risk situation. Banks are conservative organisations after all.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251128041136_b33dd18d7ce221e273bd18d8a5c4ba4c9196f762b95b87fd24c60df6c2426065.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251128041136_b33dd18d7ce221e273bd18d8a5c4ba4c9196f762b95b87fd24c60df6c2426065" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1022" loading="lazy" alt="Banks"> <figcaption>Illustration: BHANU BHATTARAI / NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Among the most striking videos of the September protests that was shared globally by tens of millions of people was the Hilton and Hyatt hotels and the Ncell building burning. That recognisable international brands were targeted did not just cause huge losses to owners, but also damaged Nepal’s overall investment climate. Looting Bhat-Bhateni and homes of businessmen also sent a negative message, spurring capital flight.&nbsp; “That was very bad optics for potential investors, you simply worry about the security of your investment when you see things like that,” says Himalayan Bank CEO Ashoke SJB Rana.&nbsp; Nepal will graduate to Middle Income Country status next year, and donors are set to move from aid to private investment. While this could reduce misuse of money, it could dry up grants and soft loans to the health and education sectors.&nbsp; But the harm may go deeper than just the aftermath of the September events. The recent<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/double-trouble-with-taxes"> double taxation issue</a> involving the Dolma Impact Fund, and an earlier controversy over Ncell’s capital gains tax have also put Nepal’s business climate in negative spotlight internationally.&nbsp; The banking sector is firmly on the side of investors. Says Ashoke Rana at Himalayan Bank: “This is a tax regime, it is absurd to order the payment of these taxes retrospectively. When investors see that the rules of the game can change arbitrarily, they won’t really want to put their money here. ” &nbsp; One of the positive changes in the ways Nepalis are using money is digital transactions through QR codes and mobile banking. With smartphones making up 70% of all mobile phones, QR transactions are easy and have become a part of daily life. ONLINE BANKING&nbsp; Most businesses and ride shares have this feature on board, and people do not need to carry a lot of cash or multiple bank cards. But as digital payments become the norm, the days of free transactions may be coming to an end.&nbsp; “Right now these transactions are free for the most part. This is a subsidy by the banks, because of course, it does cost something to make sure the payments go through,” says Rana at Himalayan Bank. “However, as income decreases, banks may have to look for ways to make money, so they may charge small percentages on each QR transaction.”&nbsp; Rapid digitisation has changed not only how customers use money, but also how banks think about their offices. Himalayan Bank’s new Thamel branch, for example, has cancelled plans to redesign the office for 20 tellers.&nbsp; “We realised that people were able to do so much of what they wanted digitally that we plan to have only four tellers,” says Rana.&nbsp; But cutting down on facilities and staff has not always made for a better customer experience at some bank branches.&nbsp; Economist Sujeev Shakya conducts ghost customer experience checks for banks which involves decoys entering banks to evaluate what it is like for somebody to set up a bank account.&nbsp; The stealth missions found that standards of service have regressed, with banks having a working environment reminiscent of government offices.&nbsp; Shakya points out that the general experience of going to the bank should be much better. “Sometimes it’s a knowledge issue -- banks may try to ask for non-disclosure contracts even when they don’t know why they want them,” he says.&nbsp; Despite digitisation, many banks still require paper-based forms and documents. Bankers and customers alike note that it feels archaic, almost absurd, to have to carry multiple copies of documents, sometimes only in Nepali lokta paper, across several family members and fill out what seems to be the same form over and over even though digital files exist. That could soon be changing as well. As more and more Nepalis adopt the National ID, banks have adopted pilot programs that use it to create bank accounts, replacing the myriad documents that customers had to previously present to officials, making all banking transactions more efficient and less of a hassle for the customer.&nbsp; DIGITAL SECURITY As Nepalis move their cash online, digital infrastructure needs to become more secure as well.&nbsp; Bankers spend quite a lot to make sure necessary digital security infrastructure is in place, but some banks could be using pirated software which are not trustworthy.&nbsp; There has to be better regulatory oversight to prevent phishing and fraud as online payments and digital banking spread across Nepal.&nbsp; Banks must also be innovative and ambitious. Says Shakya: “Nowhere else in South Asia are bank loans such a high ratio of the nation’s GDP. &nbsp;This actually points to a well-developed financial system and we have to take advantage of it."&nbsp; Shakya also notes that many bank executives in foreign countries, like Myanmar are actually Nepali, and that banks from Nepal could use their staff and know-how to partner with or acquire banks overseas.&nbsp; While these innovations are all welcome, it is unclear how Nepal's banking sector can jumpstart economic activity in the country. Nepal’s political future looks uncertain and stability is not a guarantee.&nbsp; In the face of continuing progress in hydro electricity and the IT sector seems to be the way forward to stimulate the economy.&nbsp; The GenZ movement was a wakeup call also to financial institutions and the need for greater transparency. Nabil Bank CEO Manoj Kumar Gyawali says the September protests sent a clear message that young Nepalis want an end to corruption, good governance, and real opportunities at home: "The banking sector has a &nbsp;responsibility to direct more lending toward the real economy, sectors that create jobs, build productivity, and strengthen long-term growth," he says.&nbsp; Despite a subdued investment climate, Gyawali is optimistic. "I do see early signs of improvement. Lower interest rates are beginning to restore public and business confidence. Rising remittances provide a safety net and fresh investment capacity for households," he says. "If government capital expenditure continues to improve, it will boost private sector activity."&nbsp;

Cash rich, but poor

Prime Minister Sushila Karki is under pressure from GenZ activists and families of the victims to go after officials in the previous government responsible for the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre"> murders of 19 youth at Parliament on 8 September</a>. But prosecuting the perpetrators and putting them behind bars risks street protests from elements in the previous government.
Former Prime Minister K P Oli is not making it easy for his successor. He is smarting from his downfall and itching for revenge. He is flexing his muscles with rallies, and has unleashed the attack dogs. UML’s newly-formed ‘Youth Volunteer Force’ is led by former Maoist Pushparaj Shrestha, who is accused of multiple murders and kidnappings, and former Bhaktapur MP Mahesh Basnet has been making incendiary remarks on social media on behalf of his boss.
Oli is obviously using the threat of street protests as a deterrent: don’t come after me, or else. Prime Minister Karki cannot risk escalation, otherwise <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/march-to-5-march">elections </a>may have to be postponed, or worse, cancelled.&nbsp;
The UML’s partner in the deposed government, the Nepali Congress (NC), is also suffering post-traumatic stress from the shock of the GenZ uprising. Its leader Sher Bahadur Deuba had stepped down as party chief, but has had second thoughts, and seems to want to prove his astrologer right that he can be prime minister seven times. (He has clocked five so far.) Meanwhile, his NC party is imploding with its no-longer-young-turks demanding a party overhaul before elections.
The Maoists are no longer Maoists. Former guerrilla commander and three-time prime minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal has joined up with seven smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party by teaming up with two other superannuated former prime ministers, Madhav Kumar Nepal and Jhalnath Khanal. Maoist ideologue Baburam Bhattarai has also shed his Maoist tag and leads a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/party-time">new party</a> (PSP) that vows to ‘uphold the demands of the GenZ’.
The long and short of all this is that Nepal’s legacy parties have not seen the writing on the wall, they have no idea how much public outrage there is against them even after the carnage and conflagration ten weeks ago. And after all this, they are behaving exactly like they did before, sidelining internal rivals within their party, treating politics as powerplay and not about accountability and better governance to lift living standards.
Even a little bit of enlightened self-interest would have allowed them to see how sticking to their guns and not handing over the party to a younger cohort would mean certain ignominious defeat in March. But being gerontocratic authoritarians, they still believe their vote banks are intact, and are betting on the GenZ fervour fading by March.
Twenty years ago in this same space, we wrote: ‘Our politicians are not satisfied with being top dog, they want to be only dog.’ Nothing has changed, history is on rewind in slow motion. To take the canine analogy further: maybe you cannot teach an old dog new tricks.
The best indication of this is the shameful<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/election-countdown-4-more-months"> lack of remorse from the former prime minister </a>down the chain of command for what happened starting at noon on 8 September. Even if he did not give the order to shoot, being the head of government he should have taken responsibility for the death of 19 young Nepalis outside Parliament. Resigning that afternoon may have saved the nation from the scale of death and destruction the following day.
The Judicial Commission of Inquiry headed by former justice Gauri Bahadur Karki has another month to submit his findings. K P Oli has said he is not going to any deposition, while his Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak has indicated he will if asked.&nbsp;
Much of the evidence for the killings, arson and looting are in the public domain. There are videos and photographs of the Special Task Force commandos who knelt, took careful aim, and fired at the protesters outside Parliament. Many of the arsonists and looters on 9 September posted selfies and videos on Tiktok and Facebook where they can be easily identified as Maoist, RPP and RSP supporters.
What has angered the GenZ is that while the Home Ministry has been arresting some of those who set fire to Singha Darbar and Parliament, it has not deemed it necessary to track down the shooters. Home Minister Om Aryal says he is waiting for the Judicial Commission report to act.
Last week’s Human Rights Watch (HRW) report, <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2025/11/19/nepal-unlawful-use-of-force-during-gen-z-protest" target="_blank">Nepal: Unlawful Use of Force During ‘Gen Z’ Protest</a>, has a detailed timeline of what happened on the two days, corroborated with interviews with eye-witnesses. It found that the STF started shooting within five minutes of the curfew being announced, and most protesters did not hear any warnings. Some 34 protesters were detained inside Parliament, beaten and mentally tortured.
The wounded and dead all had high-velocity gunshot wounds on their heads, chests and abdomen. The arson and looting the following day appears to have been instigated by a mass SMS sent from a fake Myagdi account, after which Discord posts directed protesters to attack specific locations.
Many more questions need to be answered by the Judicial Commission: why did the Army not act sooner, who gave the actual orders to use lethal force with assault rifles, who attacked schools, hotels and businesses, who was behind the inter-party and intra-party attacks on the afternoon of 9 September?&nbsp;
Prime Minister Sushila Karki has to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/proper-polls-better-than-no-polls">tread a careful middle path</a> through this minefield till election day.
Kunda Dixit

pig-farm

The meat of the story

Pigs fly and fish climb trees

Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

Too little snow, too much rain

Cash rich, but poor

Election vs escalation