https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngJw466aQY8&amp;fbclid=IwAR2jpQDNqKGE09q2rWGbOJRdav4wHPlBnCFstQG63VMjVM_oQonCfJssGEgGhanshyam Rajkarnikar still has fond memories of the wide pond near his house in Kathmandu. As a child, he played along the edge of Kamal Pokhari, named after the lotus that once grew profusely on it.The lotus does not grow anymore, the pond has shrunk, and in the past months its water has been drained to make way for commercial development. Wild grass has taken over the dry bed where a fisherman used to take his boat out to catch fish to sell in the market.“We would ask him to pick us some lotus flowers from the middle of the pond,” recalls Rajkarnikar, now 80, and whose family owns <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19879">Krishna Pauroti Bhandar</a>, one of the oldest bakeries in town.Ever since Mayor Bidhya Sundar Shakya of Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) tried to repeat what he tried to do in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/on-queens-pond-rani-pokhari,4092">Rani Pokhari</a>, heritage conservationists have been up in arms to stop the use of concrete to ‘beautify’ a water body that served to recharge Kathmandu’s groundwater and had cultural significance.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3709c7e80680e096654jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="569"/><figcaption>Kamal Pokhari in 1950. Photo: MADAN PURASKAR PUSTAKALAYA/ARCHIVES</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3739c7e80680e096655jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Mayor Shakya’s team calls it a ‘fusion’ project to merge modern urban needs with traditional heritage. But activists have been up in arms about the use of concrete, and the construction of a ferro-cement lotus in the middle of the pond.“If you do not allow aquatic plants and animals to grow naturally, they will die and that is why the use against concrete is dangerous for biodiversity,” says land and water management engineer P S Joshi.There have been previous efforts to revive <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/be-water/">Kamal Pokhari</a>. In 2017, Nepali Congress MP Gagan Thapa worked with environmentalists to revive the pond and to stop garbage dumping.But by 2019, Kamal Pokhari had turned into a wasteland, and the KMC announced plans to develop the area into a recreational space with an artificial lotus. The plan has been met with stiff resistance from activists.“Currently, the swampy soil bed is the lifeline of the pond, it retains water," says architect and activist, Susan Vaidya.  He explains that in situations when a pond is left dry for a long time, it loses its ability to retain water.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/deconstructing-reconstruction/">Deconstruction reconstruction</a>, Alok Siddhi Tuladhar<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3769c7e80680e096656jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="754"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce37a9c7e80680e096657jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4000" height="3000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“It is not about how much concrete is being used, it is about destroying the natural water levels,” says Vaidya, who, along with other activists, has met Mayor Shakya to try to make him understand local sentiments.Nepali Times asked Shakya to respond to the criticism. He said, “Kamal Pokhari was already a lost case, sewage and garbage was being dumped. As soon as the contractors finish their work we will fill it up with water.”The KMC says it will “beautify” Kamal Pokhari and will retain its originality. The water will be recycled so that it does not gather algae.Engineer Prem B Shrestha Ranjit is coordinator of the Kamal Pokhari Restoration Project, and says, “There will be smaller ponds at the four corners of the pond where lotus flowers will be grown to ensure that the pond retains its identity.”Ranjit disclosed that the pond will be first filled with 25 million litres of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/light-at-the-end-of-the-melamchi-tunnel/">Melamchi water</a>, and topped off with water pumped from a deep well.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce37d9c7e80680e096658jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Activists say all this is proof that the KMC has no idea about the ecological and cultural importance of Kathmandu Valley’s network of ponds like Kamal Pokhari and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/resurrecting-rani-pokhari-right/">Rani Pokhari</a>. They point to Gahana Pokhari in Handigaon which was also lined with concrete in the name of ‘renovation’.According to the Ancient Monument Preservation Act of 2043, using concrete in a historical monument is prohibited and is subject to penalty. When approached, Ram Bahadur Kunwar of the Department of Archaeology refused to comment.Sanjay Adhikari of the non-profit group Pro-Public has filed a petition at the Supreme Court to stop reconstruction at Kamal Pokhari. But three months have passed since, and there have been no hearings.As the struggle between the city and heritage activists drags on, Kamal Pokhari is dusty and overgrown with weed. Stray dogs roam about, and neighbourhood children play in the dry bed.“Ponds act as diaphragms, they allow the intake of rainwater into the groundwater which helps maintain the groundwater table,” says Joshi. “When the surface is sealed with concrete, rainwater cannot reach the ground and the groundwater table drops.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3809c7e80680e096659jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="804"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Without <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-must-keep-water-on-its-land/">ponds and open fields</a> to ensure that Kathmandu Valley’s groundwater is recharged, there is the danger of sinkholes and land subsidence. The valley’s early inhabitants had created a network of ponds to recharge aquifers, so water would be stored underground for use in the dry season through wells.While most big cities in the world are located on a sea coast or alongside rivers, Kathmandu Valley had its own unique system. Beginning from the Kirat period, people settled on elevated land and the fertile river banks were strictly for agriculture, and for flood control. This knowledge was passed down to the Lichhavi and Malla periods.The ancient kingdoms built an elaborate network of rajkulo canals that channeled water from springs on the Valley rim to ponds, hiti water spouts, and wells. The Newa people of the valley created three types of ponds with varying functions too maintain the hydrological balance.Ponds upstream from towns acted as buffer reservoirs that stored rainwater, and recharged the aquifers. They also helped reduce the risk of floods in the settlement during the monsoon, and in the dry season provided water for irrigation and household use.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3839c7e80680e09665ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1680" height="1075"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The ponds built within settlements were smaller and used mainly to recharge aquifers and for rainwater harvesting. The recently restored Pim Bahal Pukhu in Patan, Purna Chandi, Khicha Pokhari and Byasi Pokhari are examples of these local ponds.Ponds downstream from settlements had flood and landslide control functions, with Chaysal Pokhari in Patan being an example.Kathmandu Valley was hydrological civilisation that understood the value of water conservation, and had an intricately engineered water management system suited to the topography. It dated back to the Kirat and Lichhavi era, 1,500-2,400 years ago, and passed down to the more recent Malla period.Hitis and dug wells in the towns were fed through aquifers, and to ensure that there was flow of water even during the dry season, ponds were built as reservoirs to recharge the groundwater. These ponds were in turn fed through rajkulo canals.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3869c7e80680e09665bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the 1800s, the Ranas introduced piped water, replacing the traditional water system. But the modern systems were not able to cope with the rapid urbanisation of Kathmandu, especially in the past 50 years.“One of the reasons Kathmandu Valley civilisation thrived in the past was because of its intricate water system, of which ponds were an important part,” explains Joshi.Much of this network of canals and ponds are now destroyed. The stone spouts are mostly dry. The Ring Road expansion destroyed much of Patan’s underground rajkulo canals. And the ponds started going dry because of the loss of replenishment through the water channels, and encroachment.Heritage conservationists say that Kamal Pokhari and other ponds in Kathmandu Valley need to be revived, not just reconstructed. This means restoring their original water channels and the natural soil characteristics with an understanding of their ecological and cultural importance.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce38a9c7e80680e09665cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="751"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Lost lotus ponds</h2>The sky is overcast. Bhaktapur’s Kamal Binayak is dotted with people enjoying the serenity of this ancient pond (above). Sixty-year-old Chandra Bir Prajapati walks past them, pushing a trash trolley, collecting litter.He has been the sole caretaker here for decades, employed by the Kamal Binayak Sudhar Samiti to ensure the lotus pond is clean. In the next few months, this historic pond will be handed over to the Bhaktapur Metropolitan City by the Nepal Army, and it wants to draw more visitors and augment local income.Heritage activists, historians and water heritage conservationists have hailed Bhaktapur as an example of how heritage should be preserved amidst rapid urban expansion. The city’s efforts to revive its ponds and cultural sites has important lessons for Kathmandu, Patan, Thimi and Kirtipur.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce38d9c7e80680e09665djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Patan’s Kamal Pokhari, for example, was buried under a parking lot by the  Lalitpur Metropolitan City itself. And its idea of beautification is to line the remaining pond with glazed tiles and a fountain in the middle.The Kamal Pokhari in Bode, Thimi is embroiled in a legal battle between the public and one Gyalpo Sherpa, who claims that he had bought the pond from a woman called Kanchi Podini. The locals argue that she had been contracted the pond for fish-farming during the Panchayat years, and would have no legitimacy for its sale.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3909c7e80680e09665ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="575"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3939c7e80680e09665fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="397"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Elsewhere in Kathmandu, there are only memories of extinct ponds. Few know that the <a href="http://nepalihimal.com/article/3603">Dasrath Stadium is built over a vast lotus pond</a>. Other ponds now have structures like the Chhaya Centre built over them, with the locals still protesting. With the ponds gone, so have the rituals, festivals and folklore that were associated with them.Kathmandu’s ponds were not just woven in the sentiments of the local Newa people, they were a well-thought-out plan by people of the past, who understood the valley’s ecology. The loss of these ponds is the effacement of indigenous knowledge in a world, that is fast being lost to invasive urban development.

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

Our Kamal Pokhari

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Early on Monday morning, a bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu plunged off the highway in Dhading killing 19 passengers. Two weeks ago, another bus fell into the Tama Kosi in Manthali, killing 12. A few days before that a bus crash in Baitadi killed 13 people.&nbsp; In just the month before Nepal's election, more than 50 people have been killed in road traffic accidents. Most of these cannot be called 'accidents'. They are a direct result of poorly maintained highways and lack of enforcement of traffic discipline. Political parties in Nepal have rolled out their election manifestos, and voters are once again presented with a flood of promises. Page after page, these documents list megawatts and microcredit, highways and airports, jobs and investment. In these manifestos, growth is quantified, projects itemised, revenue forecast — and there are even threats to beat up contractors who do not finish their jobs. But when everything is declared a priority the stale promises are empty. The voter is left confused as to where the party’s loyalties really lie. Will any of these plans and pledges actually ever materialise and help Nepalis live longer, safer, healthier lives? The main job of any accountable government is to protect its citizens, not so much from foreign enemies but from domestic mismanagement. And this means the most basic test the new government should be made to pass is whether it can ensure basic well-being and protection for all its people. The problems of safety, health, and survival remain unresolved for most Nepalis, and are quietly eroding their lives. In the past year alone, the country’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">roads and highways claimed more than 2,300</a> lives. An estimated 41,000 Nepalis die each year directly because of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous">air pollution</a>, and their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/air-pollution-killing-season-starts-early">lifespans are lessened by 3.4 years</a>.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health">Non-communicable diseases</a> now account for well over half of total deaths in the country. And even where survival has improved, deprivation remains. Chronic malnutrition continues to haunt communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mass-migration-from-muktikot">Nepal’s western mountains</a> despite progress in maternal and child health.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="683" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  These are the lived realities of most Nepalis, and it is here that development can deliver its most immediate returns. A rising GDP, in and of itself, does not make roads safer, clean polluted air, or provide enough nutrition to children. Such outcomes demand intentional, granular policies that confront the specific, everyday problems shaping people’s lives.&nbsp; Macroeconomic growth, trade and investment are important, but these alone cannot guarantee improvements health and safety. The word ‘growth’, after all, is also synonymous with malignancy. Economic progress and human protection are correlated only when governance deliberately links them. Impact on life is the unit in which ordinary Nepalis calculate progress. What is needed, then, is a governing philosophy measurable in these same terms: a ‘life-first’ standard where every policy, budget, and reform can be understood and judged by its impact on protecting and extending human life. Such a ‘life-first’ approach would scrutinise three aspects of every policy. First, whether the policy prevents loss of life. A death is termed preventable if better, more coordinated response systems and regulations could have avoided it (vaccines, drugs, road safety, clean drinking water). A newly built six-lane highway <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/highway-accidents-are-no-accident-in-nepal">can be a death trap</a> due to poor design or lax enforcement of safety rules. If neonatal deaths continue in a district despite hospitals being present, or if malnutrition claims lives in predominantly agricultural regions, they too are failures. Preventable deaths also cluster where accountability is less direct. Just last year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/suicides-a-pandemic-within-a-pandemic">Nepal recorded 6,866 suicides</a>, with nearly 20 lives lost every day, yet these deaths fail to prompt any serious examination of governance. The same holds for fatalities linked to domestic or communal violence, alcohol and substance misuse, or ‘natural’ disasters, which register as ‘tragedies without remedy’ rather than as outcomes policy can influence. But when avoidable loss of life recurs at scale, isolated incidents become patterns, and patterns reveal systemic neglect. Saving lives, however, is only the first step, and what matters just as much is the quality of years lived. Nepal’s life expectancy now stands at 71 years, yet many citizens spend years in avoidable disability, untreated chronic illness, or mental distress. A life- first government must ask not only whether people live, but whether they thrive. Are citizens able to pursue education, work, and family life without fear of preventable harm? Do communities have access to clean air and water, nutritious food, and basic healthcare? Can a teenager anywhere in Nepal imagine a future not foreclosed by premature marriage, or untreated depression?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940" data-rendition-name="original" width="2529" height="1427" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  Thriving requires policies that prevent suffering and promote well-being in addition to ensuring survival.&nbsp; Finally, governance must consider graceful aging. Elderly Nepalis should not be left to navigate disease, poverty, or isolation alone. Social systems, healthcare, and community support must enable their continued participation and dignified well-being. Adopting this three-layered standard would gradually reorient how success of any new government is defined. Transportation would be judged by fatalities reduced on the roads. Electricity generation would be measured by whether households can switch from firewood dependence to smoke-free electric stoves.&nbsp; Increase in annual rice harvest must translate into better nutrition, reducing the prevalence of chronic diseases like diabetes. Accountability must follow problems rather than stop at Singha Darbar. Only then will politicians and bureaucrats eventually recognise that their work converges on the same human endpoint. Critics will argue that economies are complex, trade-offs are inevitable, and that governance cannot be reduced to a single metric.But, as Acemoglu and Robinson show in their book <a href="https://ia801506.us.archive.org/27/items/WhyNationsFailTheOriginsODaronAcemoglu/Why-Nations-Fail_-The-Origins-o-Daron-Acemoglu.pdf">Why Nations Fail</a>, the key difference between prosperity and poverty lies in inclusive institutions that empower citizens and create broad incentives for well-being.&nbsp; Extractive institutions concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few while keeping the majority trapped in neglect. Nepal’s governance has remained a striking example of extraction. If lawmakers in the new Parliament continue to resist changes that would save and improve the lives of ordinary citizens, the same systemic rot will persist for generations to come. A life-first mentality can cut through this inertia by clarifying the moral centre of governance and reminding policymakers that behind every policy failure lies human cost. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-hunger">Every mother in Bajura</a> with a child going hungry at night, every farmer in the Madhes unable to afford medical care, and every family that has lost <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">a migrant son to kidney failure</a> understands the true <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating">value of a life saved</a>. Life is the one metric that transcends ideology, ethnicity, and region. Centering governance on this single, focused metric, can shift an election from a contest of rhetoric to a contest of evidence. Which party ensured access to safe water and basic healthcare? Which made work at home and abroad safer and less exploitative. Which measurably extended healthy years of life for ordinary citizens? Health is wealth. By improving the healthy lifespan of citizens economic prosperity would follow naturally. A ‘life-first’ governance model would therefore compel Nepal to address the underlying structural failures across all sectors, rather than merely alleviating their symptoms. The GenZ protest that toppled the government last September was, at its core, a demand for accountability and a rejection of politics as usual. But as the country edges closer to the polls, that clarity has started to dissipate. Parties are now echoing the language of reform, but the public discourse remains dominated by promises that feel disconnected from Nepal’s most immediate and basic priorities. Every preventable death, every hungry child, and every neglected elder becomes a direct failure of governance and a moral debt the state must answer for. It is how we can make sure we keep the next government in check. The writers are Nepali GenZ students of biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Nepal’s life or death election

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible.&nbsp; In the lap of Langtang lie misty meadows that are carpeted with alpine flowers during the monsoon. It was here that Gyalbu Tamang (pictured, right) spent his childhood accompanying his father Pasang Norbu to high pastures, to milk nak and make cheese. Norbu himself was taught to produce Emmentaler cheese by two Swiss experts in the 1950s. Switzerland and Nepal are marking the 70th anniversary of diplomatic ties this year, and the cheese plant in Kyangjin was one of the first the Swiss were involved in.&nbsp; Langtang had surplus milk, and the idea was to turn it into cheese to raise nutrition levels. “The Swiss were very hard-working, and were not used to the laid back attitude of Nepalis,” remembers Gyalbu Tamang, now 50. “The children in Langtang were scared of the tall blonde foreigners, but I got along with them.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Gyalbu remembers sleeping outdoors with his father, under the stars and gazing at Langtang Lirung luminescent in the moonlight. After the milk was boiled, he helped carry it down in 40 litre churns to Kyangjin for processing.&nbsp; The plant was handed over to the state-run Dairy Development Corporation (DDC). Norbu Lama retired, but cheese making was too ingrained in him. So he bought a dozen yaks and Gyalbu helped him sell the milk. At 18, Gyalbu joined the cheese plant, and 32 years later, he is still there – now manager. “I had learnt everything from my father, so it was easy for me,” Gyalbu recalls. “Trekking boomed in Langtang and there was high demand for cheese. It raised the income of farmers.” 2015 EARTHQUAKE&nbsp; But all that came crashing down just before noon on 25 April 2015 when the earthquake triggered an avalanche that buried Langtang &nbsp;village. More than 300 people, many of them trekkers, were killed. “My father was grazing yaks, and we found him five days later, thrown off by the avalanche. My mother was buried in the ruins of her home,” Gyalbu says. Fortunately, his wife and three children in Kyangjin were safe in their damaged house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="882" height="661" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Twenty-seven herders and 400 yaks also perished. The cheese plant was flattened. Even before the disaster, an ageing population, out-migration, and better education meant that fewer Langtangpa were interested in cheese-making. The DDC’s mismanagement also took its toll, and at Rs80 / litre, it was not feasible to herd yaks anymore. The Swiss stepped in again to help rebuild the plant on condition that the price of milk be raised. The DDC agreed to pay up to Rs110/litre depending on fat content, and that price has remained the same.&nbsp; Gyalbu Tamang was in Kathmandu this week, trying again to convince the DDC to raise the price of milk to make cheese-making a worthwhile occupation for the younger generation.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  There are only three yak ranches left and the numbers of yak, nak and dzo have shrunk. In its heyday, Langtang used to produce 5,000kg of cheese per year. Today, it is down to 800kg. The cheese is sold in Kathmandu for about Rs2,000 per kg, but the plant has no savings to upgrade its 80-year-old equipment. “We are on our own, there is not much help from the government or Langtang people overseas,” laments Gyalbu. “I do not know what the future holds, but I will keep making cheese as long as there is milk, and as long as I am able.”&nbsp;

Langtang Emmentaler

Of the nearly 19 million eligible voters in next week’s election in Nepal, an estimated 5 million are abroad and cannot cast their ballots. Many others within Nepal must travel to their home districts, and might decide not to because of the cost.
Flights into Kathmandu these days are full of global Nepalis returning just to vote, but almost as many are leaving for overseas jobs. Most of those coming or going are in the 20-40 age group, and a majority want Nepal to see a change in leadership.
Bangladesh held an election this month in which citizens overseas could vote by mail.&nbsp;
“Bangladesh made maximum use of technology not just for campaigning but also for polling itself. We could have also managed this, so people within Nepal did not have to travel to their home districts to vote,” says Mohna Ansari, former head of Nepal’s National Human Rights Commission who was an election observer in Bangladesh.
A 3-day holiday has been declared so people can travel to their home constituencies to cast ballots. Even if there was not enough time to manage ballots for overseas Nepalis, it could have been done for Nepalis within Nepal.
Former Chief Election Commissioner Bhojraj Pokharel reckons that physical voting in countries with a large Nepali diaspora would have been a logistical nightmare, but in the PR system, using electronic voting machines or paper ballot could have been piloted in some places. It is not possible to manage the entire voting process until we introduce the internet voting system.
“First of all, there needs to be political will to bring the policy and be ready to undertake that level of investment and it is not a one-time cost,” Pokharel says. “A government formed by the GenZ could have atr least issed an ordinance ensuring this right, piloted out-of-country voting where possible, which could have built pressure for the future Parliament and the government. It would have given people hope. It is a lost opportunity.”
All major political parties called for voting rights for global Nepalis in their manifestos, but these very leaders blocked legislation allowing it despite a 2017 Supreme Court ruling out of fear that it would be anti-incumbent.&nbsp;
<h2>Why so late?</h2>
Bangladesh delivered election results in just one day, but the final results of Nepal's last local polls in 2022 including that of Kathmandu constituencies took nearly a month.
Acting Chief Election Commissioner Ram Prasad Bhandari said this week that the results of the First-Past-The-Post (FPTP) ballot counting would “likely” be published within 24 hours of the poll closing at 5PM on 5 March. But many are skeptical.
“I wonder if we lack the capacity or know-how to announce results as quickly as possible,” says Mohna Ansari.
Former Chief Election Commissioner Pokharel says manual ballot paper counting in Nepal is inherently slow because of the large numner of political parties and/or candidates on the ballot, the counting mechanism, the political behaviour of the candidates/parties and some managerial issues during counting.
“Our present policy is to count all the ballot papers at the returning officers' officies, located at the district headquarters. It requires collecting ballot boxes safetly first. This takes time, and there have been cases of ballot boxes being damaged or stolen during transport. In a few highly difficult, geographically remote polling centres, we use a helicopter or transport. But sometimes, accommodating the party and candidates' representatives remains challenging,” explains Pokharel. A solution could be counting ballots at the very booths where they are cast.
Another reason for the delay is simply the number of political parties, and the need for each ballot paper to be examined by booth representatives for consensus. In close races, the smallest difference can lead to tense situations, further delaying results, even though counting centres are protected by metal fencing so there is no disruption.
After this, then it is the turn of Proportional Representation (PR) ballots to be counted. Weeks pass by the time the results of candidates and parties are tallied and verified. But the most common delay is because election officers think ballot counting is a nine-to-five job.&nbsp;
“The efficiency of poll station officers is most important, and they are incentivised for this,” says Ansari, adding that counting can even start within an hour after voting closes.
In remote areas, local resources could be mobilised to make counting quicker, but there is a crisis of trust, adds Ansari.&nbsp;
That could be easily solved with electronic voting which the EC implemented in the 2008 polls but discontinued because political parties felt the machines could be hacked or manipulated.

ponds-of-nepal

Our Kamal Pokhari

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Nepal’s life or death election

Langtang Emmentaler

Nepalis Select Who To Elect