<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/6372392d9c7e80680e0c73c7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Former Bhutanese refugee Tara Dahal chairs Nepali language and Arts Centre in Cincinnati, which teaches Nepali to families from Bhutan and Nepal, facilitates citizenship applications, voter registration, and helps those with language difficulties.</figcaption></figure>On 1 August 2022, Tara Dahal’s inbox pinged with an email. It would have been like any other morning had the senders not been the US Center for Disease Control (CDC) and the Association of Immunisation Managers (AIM).The emails named him among 28 community <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bhutan-refugee-to-coronavirus-care-giver/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">health workers across the US</a> to receive the country's 2022 Immunisation Champion Award.Each year, an individual from every US state is honoured with the award. Dahal, who works at Healthy Home Care was awarded for spreading awareness and actively contributing to the vaccination campaign during the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/himalayan-new-yorkers-tell-stories-of-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Covid-19 pandemic</a>. He was also delivering essential materials to individuals and families in isolation at a time when anti-vax disinformation was at its peak.“The news brought me immense joy," the says the 48-year-old, who was among the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">100,000 Nepali speaking people</a> that Bhutan evicted in the early 1990s, and whose family spent 20 years in a refugee camp in Nepal before <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">coming to the United States in 2012</a>.Dahal has lived in Cincinnati for eight years, and chairs the city’s Nepali language and Arts Centre, which teaches Nepali to families from Bhutan and Nepal, facilitates citizenship applications, voter registration, and helps those with language difficulties. The Centre has even built a cricket ground for the Nepali community in coordination with the township.Dahal was born in Dorokha Gewog in Bhutan’s Samtse district. Around 1990, as anti-government protests heated up in Bhutan, Dahal was in 8th grade, living in a hostel of two days walk away from home at Samtse High School.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/637239309c7e80680e0c73c8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="827"><figcaption>Recipients of US Immunisation Champion Award 2022.</figcaption></figure>News of the protests, reports of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/bhutans-refugees-between-hope-and-despair/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">repression and of resistance</a>, reached the school and the students were fearful of being targetted. Dahal had to flee to India from his hostel early one morning, on the pretext that his older brother was ill.“I left clad in shorts, a t-shirt and my bakkhu," recalls Dahal, who crossed the Suketi River into India trying to hide from sentries along the way. He stayed for a few months at a refugee camp in Garganda in West Bengal along with prominent dissidents from Bhutan.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/637239339c7e80680e0c73c9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="862" height="594"><figcaption>Tara Dahal with mother Laxmi Dorokha Gewog in southern Bhutan before they fled their homeland.</figcaption></figure>Back home, Dahal’s escape from his hostel had increased the pressure on his family. His father was forced to do labour without pay for several months by the police. His mother, who had learnt where he was, came looking for him in India one day, having told the authorities that she was going to the market.Mother and son later joined other <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ex-refugee-takes-refuge-in-music/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">refugees from Bhutan</a> who were being transported across India to be dumped in Nepal. Back in Dorakha, Dahal's friends and neighbours were also leaving the country as the repression intensified.The rest of his family received orders of deportation if they could not present Dahal, so they too, left home, with no idea of what the future held.“Just like that, our middle-income family was stateless, and we plunged into poverty,” Dahal recalls.At the refugee camp in Nepal, Dahal passed his high school exam, started teaching other refugee children at the camp school. The bamboo huts in the camp were crowded, there was no clean drinking water and garbage piles were as high as the huts themselves. The summers were sweltering and in monsoon, the rains drenched everyone. Disease stalked the refugees, and many died.“We barely survived,” Dahal says matter-of-factly. “It was what it was.”Dahal wanted on to pursue further studies, but he had no money. So he left the camp to go to Sunsari distirct in Nepal, where he taught for a few more years. In 1997, he saved enough money to come to Kathmandu and enrolled at the Pashupati Campus while continuing to teach. His family, still at the refugee camp, relied on the money he sent back for everyday expenses and to put his siblings through school.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/637239369c7e80680e0c73cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="636">Dahal eventually got married in Kathmandu, and in 2007 had a son. By that time, the refugee resettlement program had begun at camps in Jhapa and Morang. So Dahal returned to the camp with his family and began working as an Assistant Program Manager at the Refugee Women's Forum.The camp began to empty slowly, as refugee families who had spent two decades started leaving for third countries with children born in the camp. The turn for Dahal's family came in May 2011. They were resettled in Colorado, where he worked in a hotel for two years. In 2014, he moved to Cincinnatim, becoming a US citizen three years later.“A roof that didn’t leak, enough food not to go hungry, and a good education for my children,” Dahal says simply, voice thick with emotion when asked what dreams he had when the family <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/home-away-from-home-for-bhutan-refugees/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flew to America</a>.Grander dreams had withered away somewhere along the journey from that hostel in Bhutan to Ohio. “It gets hard to breathe when I remember what I had to go through while I tried to make a life as a refugee," he says.“Whenever I felt my thoughts hurtling towards the dark, I told myself that even if all else was lost, the future was still in front of m,” Dahal says. “I just hung on to that tenuous thread of hope and pushed ahead.”Now, thousands of miles away from his home in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/gross-national-reconciliation-in-bhutan/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bhutan</a>, Dahal remembers the unmade bed he left back in his dormitory, the books on his desk, his clothes hanging form a hook on the wall — a life suddenly cut off. He remembers his friends and relatives who were also forced to leave their homes abruptly in Dorokha, and the bustling Samtse market.His voice takes on a childlike cadence as he speaks of his family’s beloved cow Jhilku, born at the same time as his sister. When his family left home, they set all their livestock free but had left Jhilku in the care of a relative. Jhilku is long gone now, but Dahal has not forgotten her, paying tribute to her during yearly memorials to his late father.“I may be here physically, but I left my heart with the people and my home back in Bhutan,” Dahal says. “You can take a boy away from his home, but never his home away from the boy.”

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Far from home

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161148/636d1d4d9c7e80680e0af3a7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Bhutanese pro-democracy leader Tek Nath Rizal.</figcaption></figure>It has been a long time since the government of Bhutan washed its hands off the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/japan-award-for-bhutan-minister-opposed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/japan-award-for-bhutan-minister-opposed/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504593000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3lGADWqlZQgAuLZM0rY3sr">refugees it created,</a> and their future.Most refugees who spent nearly two decades in camps in Nepal have been <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/08/17/over-50000-butanese-refugees-resettled/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/08/17/over-50000-butanese-refugees-resettled/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504593000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0Nn1OZXzYkrKINo3JeyXxm">resettled in western countries</a>, but there are still about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504593000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1k8YQSJ-ZmdcqbmD6cOM7M">7,000 of us left in Nepal</a> who are in limbo. The government of Nepal is renewing their refugee identity cards that are due to expire by mid-2022, and provide new IDs for 429 more refugees.This is a welcome decision, and a glimmer of hope in the camps in eastern Nepal. But many of these stateless people now lack a means of livelihood, and are in deep despair. It is not clear yet if Nepal will consider the plea of all Bhutan’s people here still awaiting recognition of their refugee status.Now that the governments of Bhutan and Nepal are in a more comfortable position to discuss bilateral issues, we in the refugee community expect Nepal to continue to engage the governments of Bhutan and India and the international community until the last <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/no-one-to-care-for-doctor-who-cared-for-everyone/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/no-one-to-care-for-doctor-who-cared-for-everyone/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504593000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3jeJKQi5ZzXMI0uH5RmEX8">stateless Bhutanese</a> finds a home and livelihood.If Bhutan and Nepal have an agreement on resolving the refugee issue, they should implement it promptly. If not, the two governments must together approach India — after all, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18150#.YbHefy8RppT" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D18150%23.YbHefy8RppT&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504593000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2eHvPp0hv2VPXbXJvIhT0F">the refugees were transported from Bhutan to the Nepal</a> border across Indian territory 30 years ago.It is an insult to the international justice system and insensitivity towards human suffering to keep people in the camp indefinitely. This delay in resolving the refugee problem is allowing the government in Thimphu to detain over 50 political prisoners indefinitely. Some of them have been incarcerated since 1990.I myself was tortured, physically and psychologically abused in Bhutan’s jails for over ten years. They employed mind-control mechanisms to ruin me mentally. They must be using the same techniques on the remaining prisoners, damaging their minds permanently.I have chronicled my experience in my autobiographies, especially the same methods of torture that were rampantly used by American and Soviet intelligence agencies during the cold war years. I know first hand of the pain and painful treatment of political prisoners in jails in Bhutan, locked up and isolated from the rest of the world, only taken out for menial work during harsh weather.Police arrested me during a visit here in 1989 and the Nepal government extradited me to Bhutan, labeled me a dangerous terrorist, framing me for many malicious crimes, some of which happened after my arrest and in which I had no involvement.They dragged me to court several times where they abused me physically and verbally, incarcerated me for a decade in wrongful and rigorous detention. Bhutan’s highest court finally declared me innocent. The king had announced that he would release me after the resolution of the refugee problem, in which I had no connection. This allowed them to delay my release.The Thimphu regime had labeled me a ringleader of the dissident movement. It was international outcry and continuous protests by human rights organisations that forced the Bhutan government to release me. Yet, the people who were arrested and jailed for being my followers are still behind the bars. There has been no similar international pressure to get them released.The political system of Bhutan has changed from an autocratic to democratic setup, three elections have taken place since the declaration of democracy in 2007, yet the people who asked for democratic changes in the old system are still in prison. They jailed dissidents for demanding democracy, yet absurdly, after the declaration of democracy those very people are still in detention.Representatives of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and Amnesty International visited a few prisons in Bhutan where political prisoners are detained. The visitors had assured the captives that they would facilitate a reunion with their families upon release. Those freed have found that their families in refugee camps in Nepal have all been resettled, and there is no word on their reunions. International human rights watchdogs have now stopped visiting the prisoners.Those released from Bhutan’s jails at different times, or those without proper documents to prove Bhutanese citizenship are still languishing in the refugee camps in Nepal. They have been appealing to the government of Nepal and the <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/news/stories/2020/10/5f757f054/hardships-multiply-older-refugees-amid-covid-19-pandemic.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.unhcr.org/news/stories/2020/10/5f757f054/hardships-multiply-older-refugees-amid-covid-19-pandemic.html&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0V8G6xuwWIrXeBj_NySNny">UNHCR</a> to have them <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19646#.YbHgNC8RppQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D19646%23.YbHgNC8RppQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw10DXTxm7g88uzWzqmM7WCr">reunited with their families</a> abroad, or be granted citizenship.The Nepal government announcement that it will issue IDs to 429 refugees has been a relief. But what is not sure is if it will also cover the Drukpa people of eastern and northern Bhutan. Besides the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/Nepal-lhotshampa-rohingya,1046" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/Nepal-lhotshampa-rohingya,1046&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1u1WhqUUoyMHF37-9ZeWWR">Nepali-speaking Lhotsampa</a>, the Drukpa were evicted for being critical of the regime.The problem is that Nepal does not consider the Drukpa as refugees because of their ethnicity and their inability to speak Nepali. The Drukpa in the camps need special consideration to be recognised as Bhutan’s refugees too.There is also <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/family-separation-bhutan-style/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/family-separation-bhutan-style/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2GQl4PKpa5jx_Nj7m6nZJx">the issue of separated families</a>, with some resettled in the US and other western countries, some still in refugee camps in Nepal and others back in Bhutan.  The Thimphu government still perceives family reunions as a political threat, and is not allowing them.Abandoned by Nepal and Bhutan, many of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/home-away-from-home-for-bhutan-refugees/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/home-away-from-home-for-bhutan-refugees/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1GfjYmr1d6smbN3pDWoP_5">families resettled abroad</a> are mentally traumatised by prolonged separation. Difficulty in adjusting to life in the West, ignorance about counseling, language issues and welfare have led many resettled Bhutanese to end their lives.The suicide rate among former refugees is tragically high, and is a neglected problem.Over 7,000 refugees in the refugee camps in Nepal <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0gWUgtG8Ldp0c8MJUyTsRF">await a resolution</a>. Many are determined to go back to the homes they left behind in Bhutan 30 years ago. The refugee agencies supporting them in Nepal have stopped supplies, and there is pressure to assimilate into Nepali society.This strategy of dispersing and neglecting the refugees has buried the crisis, leaving the Thimphu regime the victor and allowing it to get away with this appalling act of ethnic cleansing of its own citizens.The governments of Bhutan and India have now barbed-wired their international border. While bilateral trade with Thimphu goes on, the border wall has stopped all travel by ordinary people on both sides of the border for their livelihood. In the name of security, the Bhutan government has confined its own people in an open prison with no access to the outside world.Abandoned by international watchdogs, by the Thimphu regime and by New Delhi, Bhutan’s refugees are nevertheless encouraged by the steps taken by the Nepal government on IDs. But we also expect it to find a holistic and just solution to facilitate family reunions with relatives, and a return to Bhutan to those who wish to do so.On Human Rights Day on 10 December, we urge international rights organisations to reopen their files and ask the Thimphu government to make public the list of all political prisoners and release them promptly. We demand that the governments of Bhutan and India lift physical restrictions and allow people freedom of movement.Tek Nath Rizal is a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/142/FromtheNepaliPress/2740#.YbHZ4S8RppQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/142/FromtheNepaliPress/2740%23.YbHZ4S8RppQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3KOpVnvLU-OFBlgi-MbRBO">Bhutanese pro-democracy leader</a>, and was <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/fr/documents/asa14/004/1999/fr/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.amnesty.org/fr/documents/asa14/004/1999/fr/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1639192504594000&amp;usg=AOvVaw17ls1nQOdh-F1B8bWMpMUI">Amnesty International’s Prisoner of Conscience</a>. He has been living in Nepal since his release from Chamgang Prison in Bhutan in 1999.

Bhutan’s refugees between hope and despair

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70129c7e80680e06005bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="998"/><figcaption>Photo : GOPAL GADTAULA</figcaption></figure>Manoj Rai was a 17-year-old student in a school in Tashigang, Bhutan in 1990, when soldiers arrived at his dorm and took away all the Nepali books. They piled them high in the courtyard, and set them alight.A few days later, the boy decided to escape the army’s dragnet and without even returning home he went down to the border, where the Indian security forces were packing other Bhutanese like him into trucks and dumping them in eastern Nepal.Thousands of refugees from Bhutan lived under plastic sheets by the side of the Kankai River in Jhapa. Many fainted from trauma, culture shock and homesickness. On a single day, Manoj Rai remembers cremating 28 children who had died of epidemics.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Who stands with Bhutanese refugees in Nepal?,</a> Bhuwan Gautam and T P Mishra“We refugees know very well the meaning of life,” Rai said with a faraway look in his eyes, at his home in Charlotte, North Carolina. He is among the nearly 95,000 refugees from Bhutan who have been resettled in the United States. Others have gone to New Zealand, Norway, UK, Australia, the Netherlands and Canada.Rai opted for resettlement after seeing no possibility of returning to Bhutan, and tried to convince as many of his compatriots as possible to take up the offer. Some were resolutely refusing to move, but he tried to convince them that being a citizen of a foreign country, rather than a refugee, could help them return to Bhutan one day. Many third-generation Bhutanese are now studying in the world’s top universities.Rai has always been interested in music, often taking his small band house-to-house during Dasain and Tihar in Nepal, performing songs of longing for home in Bhutan. Villagers used to give them rice, gundruk and vegetables, which the refugees cooked in the camps by the dusty river banks.“We were always hungry, but we had to eat to live. And music was a way to feed ourselves,” Manoj recalls. “And now, on the other side of the world from home, we are trying to preserve our culture.”Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Bhutanese-refugees-resettlement-program-ending-in-2018,4121" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The end of the road for Bhutan's refugees</a>,Jenna Kunze Soon, relief organisations like World Lutheran Foundation, Save the Children, the UN High Commission for Refugees and others came to the rescue of the refugees, settling them in seven camps<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70159c7e80680e06005cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1050" height="738">in Jhapa and Morang, where 120,000 Bhutanese lived for more than 20 years, until resettlement.“We were floating like kites. We missed home, and slept in jute sacks on the sand,” remembers Manoj, who could not even go back to Bhutan when his mother died there. “That is my biggest regret -- that I was not there for my mother. There are many Bhutanese like me.”Manoj came to the US 8 years ago and recorded over 70 songs since then. He has also founded the charity Love and Sports, which supports Nepali art, culture and music with an annual gathering in which the best are honoured with awards.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/family-separation-bhutan-style/">Family separation, Bhutan-style</a>, Jamie PiotrowskiMany of Manoj’s Nepali songs are about Bhutan. The translated lyrics of one of them:‘In the lap of the Himalaya is our dear BhutanWe blossom as we live together as oneDon’t cry, mother, we will make you smileWe will decorate our motherland with flowers.’

Ex-refugee takes refuge in music

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110813114/636a460b9c7e80680e04d3b8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3888" height="2592"/><figcaption>A classroom full of Bhutanese refugee children in Beldangi. Many of them have been denied resettlement to be with their families already in the US. Photo: JAMIE PIOTROWSKI</figcaption></figure>On 20 June it will be another World Refugee Day, another year in which we remember the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Bhutanese-refugees-resettlement-program-ending-in-2018,4121">world’s most forgotten eviction</a> of a people from their homeland. Of the 100,000 Nepali-speaking people of Bhutan that the Druk regime forced out in the early 1990s, there are still 7,000 in two camps in Jhapa and Morang. The rest have been <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/08/17/over-50000-butanese-refugees-resettled/">resettled in eight countries</a> around the world.The fate of the remaining refugees is a serious crisis because while the UN refugee agency <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/state-of-statelessness-for-refugees-in-nepal">(UNHCR)</a> has already warned it will be shutting down two remaining camps, the Government of Nepal has not advanced the option of long-pending repatriation. On the other side, the US government, which <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/resettlement-of-Bhutan-refugees-in-United-States,3404">absorbed 96,000 Bhutanese refugees</a> under a multilateral resettlement program, has already shut the door to further admissions.Although a majority of the just over 113,000 Bhutanese refugees opted for third-country resettlement, some among those remaining and their leaders, including exile-based political parties, continue to call for repatriation to Bhutan, but to no avail. If nothing changes, those refugees will prefer to stay in the camps.Yet, if UNHCR pulls out, a humanitarian crisis is likely to endanger the lives of hundreds of children and elderly refugees. Many among those longing for repatriation are the most vulnerable -- aged and illiterate individuals who need support.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110813114/636a460e9c7e80680e04d3b9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="720"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Thimphu’s strategy is to convince Kathmandu to absorb the remaining refugees permanently. Irrespective of Bhutan’s approach, UNHCR must actively and continuously promote the repatriation option.With over 65 million forcibly displaced people around the world, we understand that the UNHCR and other humanitarian organisations want to shift their focus to other more needy refugees elsewhere in the world. We believe that it will be wrong for UNHCR to stop assisting Bhutanese refugees remaining in Nepal.Despite 16 rounds of bilateral talks between Nepal and Bhutan that last nearly 20 years, Thimphu prevailed with its stance of not taking back any of the 100,000 ethnic Nepalis and Sharchops it forcibly expelled in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Bilateral talks abruptly stopped in 2004 following an alleged attack on the Bhutanese <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9608#.XPXz7tIza70">Joint Verification Team</a> at Khudunabari Camp, and no promising signs of resumption have been seen since.Given the common ancestral heritage between the remaining refugees and Nepal it might sound like the ideal solution for them to assimilate locally, but in reality it could be a big political blunder because an additional 80,000 ethnic Nepalis currently living in Bhutan and denied citizenship might be subject to a second forced exodus.To be fair, it is equally possible that some of those left behind in the refugee camps will be happy to assimilate in Nepal, as they have already lived there for three decades -- enough time to feel a sense of belonging. If doing so would ensure that Bhutan will not evict more refugees, perhaps the Government of Nepal should honour these individuals’ wishes. It would be painful for the world to see the refugees living in limbo in the camps instead of being repatriated or locally settled.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13593#.XPXzZtIza70">India, which keeps Bhutan under its armpit</a>, and the US, which absorbed the majority of the refugees, should start to pressure Thimphu to unlock the repatriation option so justice is served. It is the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18150#.XPXzntIza70">ethical and moral responsibility</a> of these countries, as well as Nepal and the seven other western countries that resettled refugees, to advocate for the rights of those remaining. Resettlement was introduced as a humanitarian solution, not a permanent one.Bhutan has no choice but to repatriate refugees while providing restitution for their property in Bhutan. It should also introduce a bill allowing political parties in exile to register for elections. If repatriation happens, which it must somehow, Bhutan should also allow <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/live-together-work-together/">resettled former refugees</a> to travel to their country of origin. The current policy restricts them, even if they apply for a tourist visa. In the long run, this will boost the country’s growth.While the refugees in eastern Nepal await repatriation, we hope the UNHCR will not shirk from its responsibility and that other stakeholders will increase pressure on the Bhutanese government for the dignified return of the Bhutan nationals. At the very least, repatriation will be a victory for the Bhutanese against their country’s ethnic-cleansing policy._____Bhuwan Gautam and T P Mishra are both former refugees from Bhutan now settled in the United States. Gautam is a graduate of Westfield State University in public administration, and Mishra an international studies graduate from University of North Carolina and executive director at Bhutan Media Society.

Who stands with Bhutanese refugees in Nepal?

<figure><img width="640" height="425" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41839c7e80680e04a67cjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Abdi Rashid and Khabor Abdulhi did not want their faces to be seen. Photo: GOPAL GARTAULA</figcaption></figure>After working in a garage for two years in Uganda, Abdi Khabor had saved up only $7,000, it was not enough to take him to Europe. He was looking for a way to earn more money, when a Ugandan man offered to smuggle him to Naples via Kenya and the Mediterranean for $10,000. Khabor did a Google image search of Naples and saw a prosperous city by the sea and was excited. He paid out $7,000, and his kind employer lent him the rest, saying after seeing him off at Kampala airport: “I know how difficult your life is. Pay me if you can. If not, consider it a help.” This was the first time Khabor had been on a plane, and he was excited when he got to Dubai. After a short transit, he boarded the next flight, not bothering to check his boarding pass. Five hours later on 17 April 2014, the plane landed at a small airport surrounded by mountains. There was no sea nearby. He asked the person who came to pick him up where he was. "Kathmandu," came the reply.Read also: <a style="letter-spacing: 0.01em; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandus-little-kabul/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu's little Kabul</a>, Gopal GartaulaFour years later, Khabor is still in Nepal and not Naples. He was taken to a hotel, where he fell asleep. When he woke up the next day at noon, the hotel receptionist told him to pay up or leave. Nowhere to go, he broke down and wept on the sidewalk in Thamel. The human trafficker’s agent who had come to pick him up at the airport had abandoned him, taking his passport and ticket.After spending 24 hours hungry in Thamel, he told an African person he met his story. The man gave him Rs200 and the address of <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">United Nations High Commission for Refugees</a> (UNHCR) in Kathmandu. Two months later, he received a refugee ID. Then began his long struggle working at construction sites or as a dishwasher to pay for food, clothes, and rent.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/living-on-the-margins/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Living on the margins</a>, Lindsey A Hedges<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/state-of-statelessness-for-refugees-in-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener">State of statelessness</a>, Jan Møller Hansen  <img width="469" height="305" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41869c7e80680e04a67djpeg.jpg" alt="">Khabor lived with 12 siblings in Somalia’s Suddur village near the border with Ethiopia, farming potatoes and barley and raising livestock. Since his father was paralysed, his mother Anav Haasan took care of the fieldwork as well as the family. But life was not easy, there was never even food and the land owners treated them badly. One day a gang of men with guns arrived at his home and stole all the grain. His uncle was shot. Khabor’s sister tried to run away, but was raped. Khabor came to Mogadishu with his 17-year-old brother and 15-year-old sister. He started washing dishes at a hotel, leaving early in the morning and coming back late in the night. He found out too late that his sister was pregnant with the child of a high class man who had promised to marry her, but instead threatened to kill him if he spoke about it. Fighting erupted in Mogadishu, and Khabor could not get away from work. When he got to his room, his brother and sister were missing. He left, travelling through Kenya to Uganda. “I don’t think any of my 13 family members are alive now,” said Khabor one recent evening in Kathmandu. “When I see Nepalis happy with their families, I remember my childhood, the barley bread and soup that my mother used to make. I remember the yard where I used to play. I cry a lot.”In Kathmandu, Khabor met a few other Somalis like him. Among them was Marian Abdulhi, who had seen her husband and father murdered in front of her eyes, and also fled to Uganda. She also paid $10,000 to traffickers to get to Naples.Khabor and  Abdulhi are married, and now have a 4-year-old daughter.  “Even mourning and grieving needs time, which we do not have,” says Khabor. “So we cry in the night after the city goes to sleep.”Abdi Rasid, 27, and his two siblings used to live in Mogadishu. When the fighting started, three armed men entered their home, killed their father inside his shop, and then shot his mother, brother and sister in the yard. Abdi, a witness to this terror, managed to hide and was helped by his father’s friend. Abdi met a trafficker who promised to take him to Australia, but landed up in Kathmandu as well."A man who came to get me at the airport said this was Australia,” Abdi recalls. “He told me I would be working in a hotel, and took me into one.” The hotel turned him out the next day, and he spent the night in an alley. He also received an UNHCR ID, and eventually married Sudi Abdi Ameena, a fellow Somali who had entered Nepal a month before he did. The Nepal government has decided to waive the delayed visa fees of Somali refugees, and deport them. They do not want to go back to Somalia where a civil war is still raging. “I saw my parents and siblings murdered before my eyes, how can I take my child there?” asks Abdi, whose one-year-old son needs a kidney transplant. There are 27 Somali refugees in Nepal, and they do not know where to go next. Says Abdi: “The world has abandoned us.”

Naples-bound Somalis find themselves in Nepal

<h5>Rohingya refugees feel safe in Nepal, but have not given up the dream of returning to Burma</h5>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQLZdOuuAMY&amp;feature=youtu.beIt’s just a little before 7PM, and there is excitement in the Rohingya camp, a settlement of about 30 tin sheds at Kapan on the northern outskirts of Kathmandu. There is sound of cooking, and an enticing aroma of spicy curry wafts from Jafar Alam’s kitchen separated from his bedroom by a partition.“Just one minute left,” says a child breathlessly, bringing the message from the makeshift mosque in one corner of the camp. It is the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, and the 169 Rohingyas in this camp, one of four refugee neighborhoods, are eager to break their fast.After an entire day without even a drop of water, Alam, his wife and three children dig into plates of chickpeas and rice.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/there-are-muslims-in-tibet-too/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tibetan Muslims in Kathmandu celebrate Ramadan</a><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d7189c7e80680e0314c2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="936"/><figcaption>Bikram Rai</figcaption></figure>“Back home in Rakhine, we had a different dish each day during Ramadan,” recalls Alam, 27, wistfully. “Goat one day, chicken another, and maybe buffalo the next. That is impossible here, even a kilo of apple costs more than 300 rupees.”Like hundreds of thousands of Rohingya who have fled Rakhine state in eastern Burma to Bangladesh and India and southeast Asia, Alam has horrific tales of persecution in Burma. There are said to be only 318 Rohingyas in Nepal with ID cards, but there may be many more who are undocumented.“First they told us not to use loudspeakers to call people to azaan (prayers). Then they didn’t let us sacrifice animals for our festivals. Then they drove us out of our homes,” says Abu Takir, 26, who was in the first wave of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/rohingya-in-kathmandu,2339">Rohingyas to come to Nepal in 2012</a>.Takir and Alam have friends and relatives scattered all over the subcontinent: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/burmas-final-solution-regarding-rohingya,1057" target="_blank" rel="noopener">some in squalid camps in Bangladesh, some jailed for alleged human trafficking in India</a>. They are relieved they do not face that kind of persecution here, though their life is full of daily struggle because they do not have work permits. Paying the rent on their living space is their biggest struggle at the moment.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/living-on-the-margins/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Living on the margins</a><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d71b9c7e80680e0314c3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2808" height="1872"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Most Rohingya men here work in construction, which is particularly difficult during the month of fasting. “Back home, nobody worked during Ramadan,” says Alam. “Our entire village of Riyaz Uddin Fara gathered in our huge 45-pillar mosque to celebrate Iftar.”Alam does not feel like going to the improvised mosque here, and says the community cannot afford a big evening feast for everyone.In a small tin shed which was designated a mosque, some men still gather to break their fast with fruit, and pray as the sun sets. Jame Masjid in Bagbazar has helped by sending a teacher who guides the rituals and offers spiritual support.Other than complaints from neighbors when they sacrifice buffaloes, the Rohingya say they face no other problems regarding religion. “The good thing about being in Nepal is that all the religions are equal here,” say Takir and Alam together. “Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, they are all free to practice their faith.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d71f9c7e80680e0314c4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2808" height="1872">Though they finally feel safe as Muslims, they have no wish to stay in Nepal longer than they have to. But they have no long term plans to seek asylum or citizenship anywhere.“Why would we want to be labourers, when we have acres of land back home?” asks Takir, wearing a Burmese sarong and speaking in halting, accented Nepali. “If all was well in our country, there is nowhere else we would rather be.”His only worry at the moment is that the children will be stateless. Rohingya children have blended right in, speaking fluent Nepali which they learn in school. Noor Kalima Begum, 11, is in Grade 4 and her best friends are Nepali classmates.She says: “We had orchards full of mangoes, guavas, and jackfruits. We did not have to buy anything. Life was so good in Burma, I want to go back home.”Also read:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/Nepal-lhotshampa-rohingya,1046" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lhotshampa, Rohingya</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/the-south-asian-cauldron,1025" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The South Asian cauldron​</a>

Ramadan in exile

<figure><img width="1400" height="986" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110711110/6368d7249c7e80680e0314c5jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>One of the Rohingya camps in Kapan. Currently there are four such camps in Kathmandu, housing Rohingyas who started arriving in Nepal after 2012 in waves, after every fresh military crackdown. Pic: Lindsey A Hedges</figcaption></figure>The arrival of Rohingya refugees in Nepal earlier this year was just the latest wave of the Muslim group fleeing violent persecution in Burma – in fact hundreds of Rohingya families have fled to Nepal each time there is a fresh crackdown by the military.The Rohingya have made harrowing and sometimes treacherous journeys across from Burma to Bangladesh and India and into Nepal, finding this country by far the most hospitable to them. The first wave of refugees six years ago sent word back to those fleeing the latest violence that Kathmandu was a safe bet.In fact, Muslim refugees are not new to Nepal. After the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War, Bihari Muslims were hunted down for collaborating with the Pakistanis and many thousands fled to India and Nepal. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/Nepal-lhotshampa-rohingya,1046" target="_blank" rel="noopener">This country also has a reputation for not turning away refugees</a>, having given sanctuary to Tibetans in the 1950s, more than 100,000 Bhutanese, and later even refugees from Afghanistan, Iraq and Somalia.The Rohingya today have been called the most persecuted minority in the world, and started arriving in Kathmandu in 2012, while others have come as recently as six months ago. For most refugees like 15-year-old Sahat, Kathmandu is safe because “there are no checkpoints” and he can move freely.Sahat has big dreams to go to university, but with no refugee status this may be difficult. Though they are safe and free from violence, some say their quality of life has deteriorated since their time began in Nepal.The Rohingya established themselves in a flat in Kathmandu when they first arrived overland via Bangladesh and India, but the rent became too expensive. At the time the UNHCR was helping families with education and medical costs. However, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/compassion-fatigue-for-rohingyas-in-kathmandu,2760" target="_blank" rel="noopener">since December 2016 UNHCR has dropped the funding</a>, claiming it would rather see the community become ‘self-sufficient’.That is something the Rohingya are striving for, but their lack of refugee status makes it difficult to get by in an overcrowded and under-resourced camp in Kapan (pictured, above). They try to survive day-to-day, working as carpenters and plumbers to be able to afford food, water and medicines. Because of the earthquake, there is a demand for construction workers.Noor Jahan is a young mother who is happy her children are doing well in school, but says she has to sometimes send them hungry to school. Rohingya children being raised here in Nepal have integrated well into local schools, learning Nepali and helping parents communicate.Saitara, a mother of two, is happy her husband has found work even though it is in reconstructing homes in Gorkha and he can come home only once a fortnight. His absence has added strain to an already burdensome life. The workers say they are paid less than Nepalis doing similar work.The Nepal government strategy seems to be to let the Rohingyas be, leave them to their own devices, allow them to stay and work as long as they do not become too dependent on the state. Many have hopes of receiving official refugee status, at least for their children.The community has arrived bearing the weight of physical and emotional trauma, they are stateless, fighting disease, and the pain of loss. Though the Rohingya of Nepal have a hard road ahead of them, they are all grateful for the community they have been able to build in Kapan, even though it is made up of tin sheds. By leaning on one another they have been able to survive in attempts to make a better life for their future generations.Also read:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/Nepal-lhotshampa-rohingya,1046" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lhotshampa, Rohingya</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/the-south-asian-cauldron,1025" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The South Asian cauldron​</a>		
		Readers write:<a id="js_3ko" dir="ltr" href="https://www.facebook.com/vishma.dekeyzer?fref=ufi&amp;rc=p" target="_self" data-ft="{" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/hovercard.php?id=100002611674980&amp;extragetparams=%7B%22is_public%22%3Atrue%2C%22hc_location%22%3A%22ufi_admin%22%7D" aria-describedby="js_3kn" aria-owns="">Vishma de Keijzer</a> Refugees are not new to Nepal, but when a government neglects its own people... hostility towards refugees seems logical. The earthquake of 2015 brought thousands of rupees. All for rebuilding the country. Not a bad idea to finally use that money for a good purpose...

Living on the margins

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

refugee