<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01359c7e80680e0a361bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="750"/><figcaption>A student in Khijidemba of Okhaldhunga district, receives a radio set and workbooks distributed through the Promoting Stability in Education project. Photo: REED NEPAL</figcaption></figure>For nearly 18 months, regular educational activities of children across Nepal <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-the-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">have been disrupted</a>. The closure of schools to reduce the spread of Covid-19 has amplified the many other ways the pandemic has eroded the academic and social experiences of students, and with this, their mental wellbeing.The impact of this will be felt for many years by the students themselves and nationally, as Nepal’s economy, like other countries, witnesses a reduced rate of economic return.Children from poorer families and those in remote parts of Nepal have been especially affected. The pandemic has laid bare <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/digital-divide-exposes-class-divide-in-nepal-schools/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">inequality in access to education</a>.The Nepal government’s Students’ Learning Facilitation Guidelines 2020 notes that a large number of students do not have access to innovative delivery of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lockdown-gives-distance-learning-a-boost-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">distance learning </a> rograms. Rather, they depend on the distribution of printed learning materials and person-to-person contact that has been difficult to sustain during the pandemic.Even before Covid, Australia and Nepal shared challenges with the delivery of education to students living in remote locations.In the central desert area of Australia is the Alice Springs <a href="https://www.schooloftheair.net.au/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">School of the Air </a>(ASSOA), reputedly the biggest school in the world. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SchoolOfTheAirAliceSprings/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">ASSOA</a>'s classrooms are spread over 1.3 million sq km, yet it has only 120 students and 14 teachers.For over 60 years, it has been delivering education by radio for children who live a day’s drive or more from the nearest school. ASSOA is one of several Schools of the Air operating across the vast Australian outback.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01389c7e80680e0a361cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2327" height="1690"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>So it should come as no surprise that during the pandemic Australia has been supporting the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/learning-during-the-pandemic-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">delivery of education</a> to children in rural Nepal.The Australian government has partnered with Rural Education and Development Center (REED) Nepal to deliver a program that is enabling continued learning in the far reaches of Nepal.The Promoting Stability in Education (PSE): Continuity of Learning and Strengthening Resilience program builds on the experiences of REED’s successful Teacher Training and Quality Education Program in Solukhumbu district, supported by the Australian Himalayan Foundation.Parents, teachers, community volunteers and local governments are working together to encourage and ensure children’s access to learning opportunities in communities that have limited access to the Internet.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d013b9c7e80680e0a361djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Under this initiative, lessons are broadcast daily through<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/tuning-into-the-radio-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> local radio stations</a> to over 23,000 households, reaching over 66,000 children and 14,000 parents. Radio sets, worksheets and other educational materials are being distributed to children’s families. The program will assist the transition back to in person classroom learning when schools reopen.Nearly two months after the launch of the program, PSE has been warmly received by students and educators alike.Bahjang Secondary School student, Pramila Ratala, who lives with disability, has welcomed the way Learning by Radio has brought her school to her home.“I used to walk two hours to go to my school but nowadays, I am learning from my home,” she said. “In addition to regular school curriculum, I also learn life skills and issues of gender equality. In future, I want to work for the benefit of children with disabilities and be like the award-winning author Jhamak Ghimire.”Through PSE, educators visit homes, distributing learning materials and radio sets to families and providing support to parents and community members.Local governments are closely engaged in the program. Education representative of Haleshi Tuwachung Municipality of Khotang district, Padam Karki said, “With the federal government’s decision to close schools, we were quite worried about what we could do to ensure we backstop learning loss among our children”.“Learning by Radio is instrumental in continuing education for our children. We are ready to cooperate with the program by visiting households and interacting with the parents and other stakeholders of children’s education, distribution of radio sets, workbooks and worksheets, and mobilising volunteer teachers,” Karki added.The benefits of programs like Learning by Radio, are not confined to Covid; rather, they provide innovative learning models for all who have difficulty accessing traditional education <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/sisterhoods-empowering-education-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">due to disabilities</a> or their remote location.As Keshari Rai, a teacher from Janajagriti Basic School in Dudhkunda, Solukhumbu observed, “There is very limited access to smartphones and reliable internet. Children have to walk a long distance to come to school every day.”Delivery of pre-recorded educational materials also <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-a-rural-radio-thrived-in-nepal-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">benefits parents and local communities </a> ith information relevant regardless of age. Ishori Nepali from Talkot Rural Municipality, Bajhang district, said she found her child’s radio lessons on gender equality and life-skills useful to her as well and she has become a regular listener.Barun Lamichhane, station manager of Beats FM, Sindhuli, agreed that Learning by Radio has applications beyond the formal education setting. “The program has helped deliver life-skill education and public service announcements including information on pandemic, gender issues and disaster preparedness."From Australia’s cattle stations to Nepal’s Himalayan communities, students and their families are benefiting from schools of the air. For all the challenges Covid-19 has presented, it has also reminded us that old technologies combined with new thinking can help chart a more positive future.Felicity Volk is the Australian Ambassador to Nepal.

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Schools of the Air

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccbf29c7e80680e08bbedjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Radio Kapilvastu has been running programs on safety during Covid-19.</figcaption></figure>As Nepal experienced the impact of the Covid-19 pandemic just as the rest of the world did, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-a-rural-radio-thrived-in-nepal-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the value of local broadcasters</a> was amplified like never before. Large portions of rural and semi-urban Nepal depend upon local broadcasters for reliable information, a premium product during the pandemic.The pandemic has also affected the local radios in an existential crisis, with sources of incomes drying up as sponsors themselves experienced a business crisis. The situation was worsened with many community volunteers and staff falling sick. These coupled with lack of adequate connectivity and electricity supply added to the miseries of operation. The work-from-home solution did not work for the local radio stations, especially in technologically challenged areas.Disregarding the difficulties and withstanding a slow start, community radios continued to broadcast lifesaving information to the most vulnerable.Broadcasting media, especially community radio is the most accessible form of mass media in Nepal. Community radios operating in locations poorly served by the government and commercial broadcasters are the most important link between the marginalised persons and the public service providers, including government offices, especially in times of a disaster.Out of the approximately 800 FM radio stations in Nepal, close to half operate as not-for-profit media outlets, mostly in rural and semi-urban locations. Community radios cover almost the entire population of the country. This is not a small achievement by any yardstick, especially when contrasted with Nepal’s fledgling governance and human rights situation.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccbf59c7e80680e08bbeejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The pandemic also brought to the fore the gaps in the Nepali media ecosystem and the community radio sector.Next year, the Nepali broadcasting sector will be marking an important milestone. It will be 25 years since the first non-governmental broadcaster Radio Sagarmatha was founded in 1997. By the virtue of being the first non-governmental broadcaster in all of South Asia, Radio Sagarmatha has contributed significantly to Nepal’s fame in the world of broadcasting media.It is, however, ironic that despite its elevated profile in the country and to some extent internationally, the community radio sector has been left to its own devices. In the lack of any legal recognition by way of a community radio policy and the absence of relevant laws and regulations, the sector is beset with maladies and malpractices. Community radios all over South Asia suffer either a ‘no-policy’ or ‘poor-policy’ situation, and Nepal happens to fall under the latter category.As the sector gradually comes to term with the pandemic, it is time that renewed attention is given to the call for ‘community radio friendly’ policies. In most of Nepal’s neighborhood, community radios are controlled by applying unreasonable restrictions in terms of transmission power, content, advertisement space and so on, thereby tempting sections of the sector to think that no-policy is better than poor-policy.However, appropriate policies and regulations can help resolve some of the main problems that prevent the sector from operating at its full capacity and potential, especially at times of emergencies. Distance broadcasting, decentralised production and provisions for remote broadcasting are topics to be pursued in this regard. It’s high time to bring in the idea of emergency broadcasting with a clear strategy and timeline. This has policy as well as resource implications, that have to be sorted out.Connection between policy and practice is often direct and deep. As with every disaster, the consequences of this pandemic too have been more devastating for those that were already vulnerable in the communities. Reviewing and refining of strategies and practices of the stations are required to correctly address these situations.The capacity of community radios to be inclusive is strongly linked to the way NGOs and cooperatives— which happen to be operating the greatest number of community radios in Nepal— are structured. Any discussion about enhancing access to community broadcasting needs to be coupled with revising the way non-governmental organisations are set up.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccbf89c7e80680e08bbefjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="1280"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The need for strengthening further effective grassroots communications mechanisms so that voices hitherto unheard can be to be heard, has been even more amplified by the dreadful pandemic. Community radios are often the only way to bring perspectives of those living in poverty into the decision-making processes. Losing community stations to a disaster will mean losing the most critical communication link with a vulnerable population. The support received from national and international actors, has thankfully prevented that from happening, so far.Community radios must continue doing what they are meant to do, which is to provide correct, appropriate and relevant information to the communities in dialects and languages that are best understood locally. At the same time and collectively as a sector, the rest of the actors in the media ecosystem need to step up advocacy for policy reform.The rise of radicalism— in the forms of populist nationalism, religion or economic development— is causing a shrinking of space for civil society actors. They are either chased or co-opted. The well-known activist and author Arundhati Roy once wrote that "there's really no such thing as the 'voiceless'. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard”. It is clear that efforts from various quarters are still afoot towards this end. Community radios can and must try to change the status quo.Suman Basnet is the Regional Director of the World Association of Community Radio Broadcaster, AMARC (Asia-Pacific).

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Tuning into the radio in Nepal

<img width="1359" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111136/636cd4319c7e80680e08f9acjpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Nepal is suffering more frequent disasters, but the way they are covered in the country’s media does not link them to the global climate emergency. And impact of global warming on the Himalaya is rarely reported in detail in the international press.The country is among the Top Ten in the world most at risk of climate change, even though its carbon footprint is among the lowest in the world.The Nepali media has been reporting on environmental issues since the 1990s, but coverage of nature, conservation, or sustainable development is often relegated to the feature pages. Rarely are links drawn between policy failures and the over-exploitation of natural resources or the need for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/look-whats-cooking-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">changing Nepal’s energy mix</a>.In the past few years, climate change related news appeared in most media outlets, but mostly linked to news pegs like Climate Summits in Copenhagen or Paris, the release of reports by high profile organisations working in this area, or pronouncements by politicians. Field reports about the impacts of climate change on Nepal's people are rare.The content of climate-related news has changed over the years. In the 2000s, there were explainers about climate change and reports about its impact on the country’s agriculture and water security. In the past decade, however, coverage has shifted gradually towards adaptation and mitigation measures.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/living-below-nepals-melting-mountains/">Living below Nepal’s melting mountains</a>, Alton C ByersNews of environment, conservation, and disasters like landslides are event-based, with scanty trend analysis and their links to the climate crisis underplayed.On FM radio stations, to which nearly a third of mainly rural Nepalis tune in regularly, there are news items about the environment but almost no mention of the impact of the climate crisis on weather and agriculture.  The Community Information Network (CIN), which groups over 360 community radio stations across the country, has plenty of news items in its flagship Sajha Khabar program, but there is no mention of how the climate crisis impacts Nepal.A news <a href="http://www.cinkhabar.com/sajha/1592" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.cinkhabar.com/sajha/1592&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1611998041278000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEZ1Ql3_cAttOxvzfcjALfImLtXEA">report about heavy monsoon rains in 2020</a> and another <a href="http://www.cinkhabar.com/sajha/1565" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.cinkhabar.com/sajha/1565&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1611998041278000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGDHErm8_LKFbbzRaVAW4P1G-2Kiw">report about a deadly landslide in Sindhupalchok</a> in 2020 cover the events without citing the emerging scientific consensus linking them to the climate crisis.Findings in a NEFEJ survey show: ‘During summer and rainy season, news related to floods and landslides become prominent, and the news related to fire get priority in the autumn seasons. The newspapers, however, have not provided sufficient news and reviews on the ways to mitigate such natural disasters. The opinion, analysis and editorial on these issues are almost non-existent.’Things are not much better on television. State-owned Nepal Television, which has the greatest reach, aired several environment-related programs in the past few years, but none of them were specifically about climate change.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-climate-threat-multiplier/">The climate threat multiplier</a>, Ajaya Dixit"We produce environment related programs in collaboration with other stakeholders like the Ministry of Forests and Environment, or NGOs. They are produced as per need and available funding, and are not regular," admits Alka Chudal, head of programs at Nepal Television.NEFEJ confirms a similar case with print media. The non-profit used to itself produce two environment-focused magazines, Hakahaki and Face to Face, but folded when DFID funding ran out."In 2019, we had to go online because we did not have sufficient funds to continue publication," says Kosmos Biswokrma, president of NEFEJ.There is some interest in climate change in online media, with concerns about its impact on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-doubly-burdened-by-climate-change/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women</a> and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/human-face-of-a-himalayan-climate-crisis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">indigenous communities</a>.  The frequency of women writing about the topic is also higher than in most mainstream publications.However, the English language press contains more technical information about climate change, and reports are often written by experts. In contrast, the majority of Nepali language reports are prompted by high profile events or translated from agencies. The Nepali language media is more focused on ground-level stories about environment, agriculture, forestry, disasters, which often leave out the bigger picture of climate change.Information on climate change in Nepal is therefore urban-centric, with the English language press providing more context and coverage to the issue.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-in-climate-hot-spots-face-challenges-adapting/">Women in climate hot spots face challenges adapting</a>, Marty Logan <img width="516" height="1024" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111136/636cd4349c7e80680e08f9adjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="596" height="778" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111136/636cd4369c7e80680e08f9aejpeg.jpg" alt="">Stories going out of Nepal on international media show a similar trend. The focus is often where the thrill is: Mt Everest, disasters, melting glaciers, with little emphasis on the impact on weather, springs going dry, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-must-prepare-for-climate-migration/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">climate refugees</a>.There are some exceptions, however, like the 2019 Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report about the projected melting of the Himalayas by 2100, which received wide international coverage. And a page 1 New York Times story on climate-induced water scarcity that forced an entire village in Mustang to relocate.International media reports about Nepal are often done by non-Nepali journalists who parachute in to report on a conference. More prolific wire services carry stories written by Nepali journalists, but the impact of climate change on Nepalis is often underreported."Climate change itself is often understood as carrying a donor agenda, limited to projects. The perception is that work will be done only if there is funding," says Pragati Shahi, an environmental journalist. Indeed, ‘climate change’ therefore ends up being viewed as a problem to be solved by technical experts, and not something that concerns the people.   "There are usually the same people who go to COPs (Conference of Parties) or other such summits every year, and they speak in jargon. They are the ones who write in the media or are interviewed by journalists,” says climate expert Ajaya Dixit. “People hear words they don't understand, creating a gap between official agencies and the people.”Sewa Bhattarai is a consultant for the Road to COP26 Project, which is funded by FCDO and implemented by the British Council. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/climate-climax/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Climate climax</a>, Editorial

Underreporting the climate emergency

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a959a9c7e80680e05dc18jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1026"/>Now that all three festivals are over, it is time to remind ourselves of where we left off before the holidays. Lest we forget, in late September we saw a series of crackdowns on freedom of expression that had a dampening effect, especially on Internet content.Elected demagogues worldwide learn fast: they have discovered that there is no need to kill journalists anymore — it is much more effective to kill journalism.By destroying the credibility of the media, citizens are no longer able to tell the difference between truths and lies, allowing rulers to get on (and get away) with wrongdoing. In this post-truth, fake news universe, the social web allows instantaneous spread of falsehood, rumours and manipulated information. This creates an environment for self-censorship, and the silencing of independent voices.One would have thought that with its landslide victory in the 2017 elections, the ruling Nepal Communist Party would be able to perform, deliver services and upgrade infrastructure. The media would have automatically heaped praises. But since it has not been able to deliver on its promises, the party with the thickest majority in Nepal’s democratic history has the thinnest skin.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/gagging-the-press-in-installments/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gagging the press in installments</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-has-press-freedom-but-no-freedom-after-press/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal has press freedom, but no freedom after press</a>, Shashank GautamIn the past year, the NCP has taken incremental steps to suppress the press. There has not been any sudden, swift crackdown — the pressure has <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/gagging-the-press-in-installments/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">mounted in instalments</a>. The intention seems to be to take our freedoms away bit by bit so that we won’t even notice when they are all gone — rather like the traditional Chinese practice of torture and execution known as lingchi, death by a thousand cuts.The story so far:<ul><li>Nepal’s new penal code last year criminalised the use of images deemed derogatory (section 295), slapped hefty fines and jail terms for recording conversations (section 293) and announced strict punishment for sending, receiving or using online data (section 298). It even banned Photoshopped images for the purpose of satire.</li> <li>Parliament introduced a bill to prohibit journalists from publishing personal information of public officials, ostensibly to protect officials’ privacy.</li> <li>Editors of mainstream newspapers were unceremoniously summoned to the Press Council for intimidating interrogations.</li> <li>Journalists at the RSS news agency were questioned for filing a story on the Dalai Lama being discharged from hospital in New Delhi while President Bidya Devi Bhandari was on a visit to Beijing.</li> <li>The Ministry of Communication and Information Technology is backing a draconian Media Council Bill through Parliament, which would criminalise speech on vague grounds.</li> <li>In June, vlogger Pranesh Gautam was jailed by police for five days for an irreverent review of a new Nepali movie.</li> <li>Satire singer Pashupati Sharma was threatened by ruling party toughies to take down a music video ridiculing the culture of corruption in high places.</li> <li>A person was tracked down and arrested earlier this year for poking fun at the Prime Minister on Facebook.</li> <li>The Information Technology Act can sentence people for 5 years in jail and levy a fine of up to Rs150,000 for ‘improper’ social media posts. What constitutes ‘improper’ is so broad that anyone can be hauled in on any pretext.</li> <li>Gyanendra Shahi, who posted a video on Facebook of Tourism Minister Yogesh Bhattarai being berated by passengers for delaying a flight in Nepalganj, was so badly beaten up he had to be hospitalised.</li> <li>Last month, rapper VTen was arrested for a music video deemed obscene.</li></ul>After each of these arrests social media exploded with virulent criticism of the government. Ordinary citizens poured scorn on the state for ‘jailing rappers but letting rapists to go free’.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/ifj-asks-nepal-to-revoke-media-gag/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">IFJ asks Nepal to revoke media gag</a><a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-undermining-free-expression-hrw/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal undermining free expression: HRW</a>Politicians seem confident they can handle criticism in the legacy media, but are afraid of the free-for-all on the Internet. The high profile arrests for posting on social media are meant to warn the public, and any infraction is so loosely defined that just about anyone can be hauled in for anything.The government’s intolerance for criticism seems to be a reflection of worries about Prime Minister Oli’s health, which has led to jostling for succession within the NCP. The former UML component of the NCP, which at least paid lip service to liberal democracy, is being subsumed by more authoritarian comrades in the party with erstwhile Maoist credentials.The emperor does not like it when it is pointed out that he is naked. Power does not like it when you speak truth to it. So, the knee-jerk reaction is to harm the messenger. The threat to freedom of expression today is not from despots, but elected leaders who have co-opted the legislature, judiciary and the security apparatus.The crackdowns in Nepal are not as bad as in the rest of the region. But that is not saying much, and it is hardly a consolation. Our goal must be to strengthen the four pillars of democracy, separating their powers and fortifying them to be more transparent and accountable.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/suppressed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Suppressed</a>, Om Astha Rai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/hornets-nest/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal PM stirs hornet’s nest</a>, Kunda Dixit<h2>10 years ago this week</h2>A <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/475" target="_blank" rel="noopener">front page analysis in #475 of Nepali Times, 6-12 November 2009,</a> shows that nothing much has changed in the Indian media’s depiction of Nepal:‘Nepal and China suddenly loom large in the Indian media, and often both are mentioned together in jingoistic coverage that is said to be fed by leaks from hawks. After an incident on a border lake in Ladakh in mid-September, TV news channels aired alarmist coverage titled ‘Enter the Dragon’.Another channel labelled Nepal the ‘Number Three Enemy’ of India after China and Pakistan. The main reason for the suspicion is the belief that Nepal’s Maoist government is getting too cosy with China.“Silently but speedily China is spreading its wings in the erstwhile Hindu kingdom, mainly to unleash anti-India propaganda,” wrote the Times of India last week.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a959e9c7e80680e05dc19jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="781">Several factors have contributed to a new cold war across the Himalaya: the recent geopolitical alignment between India and the US, Beijing’s insecurity about Tibetan nationalism and competition between the two countries over water from Himalayan rivers.'

CENSURING CENSORSHIP

<figure><img width="640" height="495" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922529c7e80680e03a120jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Goma Dulal participates in a rally marking International Wheelchair day.</figcaption></figure>If you can find time, do go to Jorpati to visit <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6946#.W5-Qc84zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Goma Dulal</a> who has just got an electric trolley to help her move about.I first met Goma 16 years ago, when the <a href="https://www.sirc.org.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Spinal Injury Rehabilitation Centre</a> was being established at the Khagendra Nabajiban Kendra precincts in Jorpati. Capable of speaking but motionless other than the ability to move her hands, Goma was resident of the next-door facility known as the Ryder Cheshire Homes, which housed <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4956#.W5-QqM4zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">differently-abled people</a>.Goma was always there to provide encouragement and good cheer to our fledgling organisation, which she and others began referring to simply as ‘Spinal’. After about five years, ‘Spinal’ moved to Kavre, but Goma has always followed our progress keenly.She was born in 1968, the second of five siblings, the eldest being a brother. When she was about 10, Goma began experiencing difficulty standing or walking. Her mobility worsened progressively, but the hospital only gave palliative care. The elbow and knee joints started swelling, and before long Goma was confined to bed.It was only in 1990 of orthopedic surgeon <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18607#.W5-SyM4zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ashok Banskota</a> diagnosed Goma’s condition as Multiple Rheumatoid Arthritis, where there is no prevention, nor cure, only ‘management’.Banskota lobbied and found Goma residency at the Ryder Cheshire Homes, where she has lived for two decades. As the disease progressed relentlessly, Goma was moved from wheelchair to ‘wheel-bed’, a kind of trolley meant for those who cannot move, only lie supine. All these years, she relies on others for bodily care, to be wheeled in and out, and to be fed. <figure><img width="640" height="390" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922549c7e80680e03a121jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img width="640" height="471" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922579c7e80680e03a122jpeg.jpg" alt="">Goma’s mother has been gone now for a decade, her father died five years ago. Since then contact with her brother and sisters have been sporadic, and limited to phone conversations which requires a friend to secure her cellphone on the pillow to Goma’s ear.Her body is hard as rock, the limbs little more than bone and skin. And yet in Goma’s eyes there is a shine and a sweetness in her tongue. Her refuge is music on the radio.One of Goma’s most prized moments was the concert by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19310#.W5-SBM4zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Amrit Gurung</a> and his folk-rock band <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Nepali-times-buzz-nepathya,581" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepathya</a> at the Khagendra Nabajiban Kendra compound. Goma looks forward to Fridays to hear the singer and lyricist Kumar Poudel, who volunteers his time to entertain the residents. “I would die if I did not have music in my life,” she says.The last four decades have weakened Goma considerably, and the one-size-fits-all treatment of residents does not do justice to her growing needs, including a specialised diet. But what has bothered her most is her decreasing mobility even in her manual trolley: “I have to shout for someone to move me, and it is frustrating that help is not always available.”A year go, Goma asked her friends from ‘Spinal’ in Kavre to get her a bijuli trolley with a joystick control. “I am tired of asking help to be moved in and out,” she told them. They ordered an electrical trolley, with battery, motor and steering from India, and it has now cleared customs, undergoing tests, and will soon be in Goma’s hands.Goma prizes her moments with visitors and she likes making new friends, learning new things. Her spirits are high, even as her body gets weaker. Do visit Goma Dulal in Jorpati. She will be wheeling herself out in her newly acquired bijuli gadi to greet you.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6946#.W5-Qc84zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Standing up to spinal injuries</a>, Hemlata Rai<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-wheel-of-life,4157" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The wheel of life</a>, Sanjeev Sharma

An electric trolley for Goma

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The debate about who is less accountable to the public: politicians or bureaucrats is as old as Nepal’s democracy itself.
Some blame politicians for being beholden to the businessmen who finance their electoral campaigns, and are forced to return the favour with contracts and kickbacks when in power.&nbsp;
Others say it is civil servants who are neither civil nor servants, and know the inner workings of the system to exploit loopholes – they then teach ministers, MPs, mayors, or ward chairs which juicy projects can be squeezed. And everyone gets their share.
In reality, it is probably not a case of either, or. Both have their hands deep in the honey pot. Corruption is now such a given that yet another exposé in the mainstream press, like the latest visit-visa scam, does not raise eyebrows anymore.
We may have to edit Lord Acton’s famous quote to say that in Nepal we do not even need absolute power to corrupt absolutely. The ruling cartel has divvied up the spoils, so that no one ever faces charges. The three parties all know about the skeletons rattling in each other’s closets, and they cancel each other out.
Politicians and bureaucrats get all the blame for taking bribes, but what of the givers of bribes? In this crony capitalism, businesses invariably need political patrons in an elaborate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">national network of give-and-take</a>.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">Politicians and businesses work hand-in-glove</a> so that conflict of interest in contracts, insider trading, cartelling, and non-performing assets of banks become the norm. Our survey after the 2017 local election showed that out of the 753 newly-elected local government chairs, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elected-contractors" target="_blank">nearly 300 were contractors</a> involved in sand-mining, quarrying, or transportation syndicates.
Nepal’s tycoons have discovered that instead of donating to election war chests of politicians, it is a much surer return on investment to spend the money to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-business-of-politics-in-nepal" target="_blank">become legislators and politicians themselves</a>.
In democracies, there are checks and balances to control corruption when it becomes endemic. The Nepal Police and Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) are supposed to do the detective work without political interference. The courts are required to be independent in dispensing justice and punishing crooks.
But the less said about the judiciary the better. A writ petition in the Supreme Court last week accused our sister magazine <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> of contempt of court for two stories: one about how high courts have been overturning a majority of verdicts of district courts in cases of rape, and another about the Biratnagar High Court clearing a self-proclaimed holy man, Krishna Bahadur Giri, of rape despite police presenting physical evidence.
The doctrine of the separation of powers stipulates that it is when the other three pillars in a democracy are compromised that the role of the free press becomes even more vital. The world over, as soon as populist autocrats are elected to the executive, their first order of business is to co-opt the legislature and the judiciary. Then they buy off, intimidate, or neutralise the media with Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPP).
Nepal’s officialdom seems to be taking midnight Zoom lessons from other despots on how to gag the media. Last month, popular talk show host Dil Bhushan Pathak was served an arrest warrant by the Kathmandu District Court for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CntsnTrtG8" target="_blank">a YouTube explainer</a> about the alleged involvement of the son of Foreign Minister Arzu Deuba Rana in a reported purchase of Kathmandu’s Hilton Hotel.
The Lalitpur District Court ruled that Pathak could not be arrested without fair trial, but this week the Kathmandu District Court filed another case against the journalist based on a complaint by the Cyber Bureau, and put him on a fugitive list.&nbsp;
Without going into the veracity of Pathak’s explainer, it is deeply problematic that the Electronic Transaction Act has been invoked – proof that politicians are getting the courts and investigating agencies to make an example of a high profile journalist.&nbsp;
The intention is to silence media investigations into the fake refugee scandal in which the main partner in the ruling coalition is implicated, and in which one of its former home ministers was jailed last year.
The Kathmandu High Court has been mysteriously active in targeting journalists these days. <a href="https://bizmandu.com/" target="_blank">Bizmandu</a> and <a href="https://nepalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">Nepalkhabar</a> were served a notice last month <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-freedom-after-expression-y4inku06" target="_blank">to withdraw a story they did</a> on the Chair of the <a href="https://www.sebon.gov.np/" target="_blank">Security and Exchange Board of Nepal (SEBON</a>) Santosh Narayan Shrestha allegedly demanding kickbacks from hydropower investors.&nbsp;
Incredibly, the court even asked the two portals not to report on the subject anymore – a ruling so absurd that the Patan High Court overturned it a week later.&nbsp;
The allegations against Shrestha were made in a public meeting of the <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Independent Power Producers Association of Nepal (IPPAN)</a>, and MPs demanded a <a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/parliament-demands-probe-into-sebon-chairman-over-alleged-commission-demand-40-32.html" target="_blank">Parliament inquiry</a> into the regulator. <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/144523/santosh-narayan-shrestha" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> reported this week that while Shrestha was reportedly demanding commissions from private investors for IPOs, he cleared primary share sales in Bajhang’s 10.75MW <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Bungal Hydro</a> in which his family members have investments, company records show.
And then just on Monday, bureaucrats hoodwinked MPs by deleting references in a bill requiring a two-year ‘cooling off’ period under which retiring civil servants could be barred from holding constitutional positions for two years.
The contest for who is more corrupt: bureauacrats, politicians, or the private sector is on.
Kunda Dixit

SLAPPing Democracy

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

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