South of Janakpur near the Indian border is the village of Phulgama. Out of its population of 4,500, nearly every household here has at least one son who is a migrant worker abroad.&nbsp; Some 40% of Nepali men between the ages of 20-35 are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/die-first-get-paid-later">migrant workers abroad</a>, mainly in India, the Gulf states or Malaysia. In the last nine months alone, 741,297 people travelled overseas: mostly to the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Malaysia and Kuwait. This does not include those who left on student visas, and there are no records of how many went to India. Most end up working in ‘3D jobs’ — &nbsp;dirty, dangerous and difficult. There is also a fourth D: dehydrating work.&nbsp; Risky outdoor as manual workers, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/too-hot-to-work">excessive heat of the desert in the Gulf</a> or humidity of the tropical jungles of Malaysia, poor diet, dehydration and unhealthy lifestyles all contribute to a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/A-mysterious-rash-of-kidney-failures,3639">higher risk of kidney failure among Nepali migrant workers</a>. Dhanusha district has one of the highest proportions of workers migrating for work to India and abroad. Nephrologists call kidney disease ‘the silent killer’ because patients do not show symptoms until it is too late, and migrant workers are especially susceptible to Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD) or End-Stage Renal Disease (ESRD).&nbsp; Increasing demand for cheap labour and minimum pre-departure health awareness training makes migration more risky than it should be. From a survey of hospitals and dialysis centres in Dhanusha and Kathmandu, the risk of kidney failure<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal"> appears higher among male migrant workers</a> than in Nepali men of the same age group.&nbsp; “This disease is idiopathic, meaning it is not caused by one specific factor,” explains Rishi Kafle of the National Kidney Center Nepal. “But after screening migrant workers going to the Gulf and developing End-Stage Renal Disease in 3-4 years, we can say that migration increases the likelihood of kidney failure.” Kafle adds: “Because of the need to maximise earnings, working in extreme heat for long hours dehydrates them. And many opt for Coca-Cola and meat instead of healthier water and vegetables.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_b86cd132e88fecad9cde6d6faa648f76b40979660e6d28e846b25469668df9d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250118070128_b86cd132e88fecad9cde6d6faa648f76b40979660e6d28e846b25469668df9d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>All photos: PINKI SRIS RANA</figcaption> </figure>  While the risk of kidney failure is higher in returnee migrant workers in Nepal, the disease is on the rise globally due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sick-of-it">lifestyle changes,</a> diabetes or undiagnosed hypertension. Currently, there are 28,266 kidney patients enrolled in the <a href="https://dohs.gov.np/">Department of Health Services</a> for free treatment under the government’s <a href="https://mohp.gov.np/program/medical-treatment-of-deprived-citizens/np">Bipanna Nagarik Kosh</a>, of which 17,044 are male and 11,222 female. Just in the past year, 9,176 more patients were added to the fund. Most hospitalised kidney patients are from age 15-65. In a healthy person, toxins and waste in the blood are filtered by the kidneys. But patients with kidney failure need to circulate their blood regularly through a haemodialysis machine. The whole process takes about 3-4 hours and causes blood vessels in the arms to swell over time. Nearly 2 million Nepalis suffer from chronic kidney disease (CKD), which is about 8% of the population. The rise in diabetes and hypertension is contributing to an increase in the disease. Everyone from migrant workers to many of Nepal’s top politicians suffer from kidney failure. Prime Minister Oli himself has had two kidney transplants. Even with dialysis twice a week, some patients develop nausea, swelling and other problems when they eat or drink. The extra dialysis sessions cost money, and the livelihood allowance given to patients is never enough or timely. Not every migrant working in hot climates returns with kidney disease, but a recent yet-to-be-published study led by nephrologist Sailendra Sharma states that one-fourth of all kidney patients in Nepal are migrant returnees. It points to recurrent heat stress as a primary risk factor. The<a href="https://mihs.edu.np/"> Madhesh Institution of Health Sciences</a> in Janakpur has 103 regular patients who come for dialysis. Of them, 30 are returnee migrants not just from Dhanusha, but also Sarlahi, Siraha, Mahottari and Sindhuli. “Not by the nature of the disease, but the way kidney disease is growing, I would call it an epidemic,” adds Kafle. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_43731248e116cfdc42bfc08b8f7d71e5ff3d44b938065a5ad9e9a337e666b9c7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250118070128_43731248e116cfdc42bfc08b8f7d71e5ff3d44b938065a5ad9e9a337e666b9c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1463" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>HARD LABOUR: Jagdish Sah shows a picture from his time in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  Jagdish Sah left for Malaysia ten years ago. He had taken a loan for his sister’s marriage and he had to pay it back. As the eldest son, he was also expected to get married next, but he faced multiple rejections. “Women have expectations too. They want to get married to well-to-do families. They didn’t want to get married to a family that lived in a mud house like ours,” says Sah, now 35. Foreign employment was a one-stop solution to his problems. Or so he thought. Sah was 24 when he left for a tailoring job at a garment factory in Malaysia. He often worked overtime, sometimes up to 12 hours a day in the hopes of earning extra ringgits. Even so, his highest monthly income would only be Rs35,000.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_7dd5030951c805302adec46afdef623bbdbb6fe1c0f12b7a77fd612531865af1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250118070128_7dd5030951c805302adec46afdef623bbdbb6fe1c0f12b7a77fd612531865af1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1536" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>Sah at a garment factory in Malaysia where he worked, often dehydrated, and not taking toilet breaks to earn more.</figcaption> </figure>  Workers got a 30-minute break for lunch, and there were limited toilet breaks. So, Sah just worked straight out. Back in Nepal for a break in 2017, Sah had blurred vision and fainted. He thought it was high blood pressure, but a few months later at age 28, he was diagnosed with double kidney failure. “Whatever he saved in Malaysia went for his treatment in Kathmandu. We even sold a plot of our land,” recalled Sah’s mother, Mantoriya Devi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250118070128_dc353dd6ce449c05bda6d562907dd961d8900c1b747dc4afec1680bb65b805b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250118070128_dc353dd6ce449c05bda6d562907dd961d8900c1b747dc4afec1680bb65b805b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="3995" height="2871" loading="lazy" alt="Dirty, dangerous, difficult, and dehydrating NT"> <figcaption>Sah is now gaunt and frail in this picture taken duing his biweekly dialysis at Madhesh Institute of Health Sciences in Janakpur recently.</figcaption> </figure>  Sah drives his motorcycle twice a week from his village to the Madhesh Institute of Health Sciences in Janakpur for free dialysis. His family says it is as if the Jagdish who went to Malaysia and the one who came back are two different people. &nbsp; “This disease has already doomed my life. Why ruin someone else’s?” says Sah of his lack of marriage prospects. “It is because of dialysis that I have survived so far.” His parents are too old and occupied with their chores to accompany him. Since Jagdish cannot work, his father, Ram Dev sells popcorn by the sidewalk from a wheeled cart. Mithu Kumar went to Saudi Arabia to work as an electrical supervisor two years ago. He was 25. Recently when he started vomiting, he was taken to a local hospital. He was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease and was sent back to Nepal. As Kumar lays down for his dialysis treatment at Save Lives Hospital in Janakpur, he says, “My only wish is that I am healthy enough to work again.”&nbsp; Umesh Kumar Yadav also worked in Saudi Arabia as a guard. He returned with chronic kidney disease, but he says he is the only one to contract the ailment among all the returnees from his village. “Only the ill-fated people have this disease,” says Yadav. “Otherwise, it would have been the same for every other person from the village who is abroad working.” Ambar Bahadur Sarki, 46, travels from Sindhuli for three hours every Monday and Thursday to Janakpur for his free dialysis at the Madesh Institute of Health Sciences. Sarki worked in a palm oil plantation in Malaysia, where heat stress often exceeded the wet-bulb threshold for heat and humidity. “It was extremely hot at all times,” he remembers. He first got hypertension, which made both his kidneys fail. Ram Udgar Mandal from Dhanusha started working in Saudi Arabia in his late twenties. He spent the next 17 years in the desert working as a driver. Now in his late forties, he was diagnosed with End-Stage Renal Disease (ESRD) four years ago.&nbsp; But this is an intergenerational cycle. Mandal’s son has now also gone to Malaysia to supplement the family income. He fears his son will meet the same fate as him. “We do not have a choice, do we?” he says. Lalit Balampaki, 28, from Dhanusa was diagnosed with ESRD a year earlier in Dubai. He stays in Kathmandu along with his older brother’s family on a rented floor. Balampaki worked in extreme heat conditions in a smelting factory in Dubai. He had to work night shifts twice or thrice a week. Sleep deprivation and extended periods without food were part of his daily routine. The pay was good, but his savings have all gone now towards hospital fees. “More than the money, I earned the disease,” says Balampaki. &nbsp; Suraj Thapa Magar, 30, was the sole breadwinner of his family. He installed aluminum windows and doors in Kuwait “It was the hottest in summer and coldest in winter,” says Magar, who worked for 10 hours a day even in 50°C. He also often neglected hydration, and one night he vomited blood. At 26, he was diagnosed with ESRD and has been in Nepal ever since. Thapa has no other choice than to rely on the Rs5,000 allowance, but even that is not timely and not enough. He has to take loans to travel for his dialysis. The government hospitals are supposed to provide some medicines for free, but they are often out of stock. Thapa has looked for jobs, but kidney disease is a stigma and no one wants to hire him. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*** In 2016, Nepal started providing free hemodialysis treatment for the poorest patients. Two years later, a monthly livelihood allowance of Rs5,000 was to be distributed to patients suffering from chronic diseases like dual-kidney failure and cancer. Free dialysis is provided in 107 hospitals across the country, but that is only in theory. Many facilities do not have nephrologists because the government does not provide salaries. The machines also often are not working because they need constant maintenance. Among the 11 hospitals that provide free dialysis in Madhes Province, three are in Janakpur. Nepali Times visited the enlisted hospitals but there were no nephrologists to supervise the treatment, and they were run by general physicians or senior nurses.&nbsp; “The government does not provide adequate salaries for the nephrologists,” says Kafle. “That is why nephrologists are mainly affiliated with the private hospitals.” Bagmati Province has 44 hospitals with free dialysis, which is why many dual-kidney failure patients have opted to live in Kathmandu. The hospitals service over 8,000 kidney patients.&nbsp; Since most of them are migrant workers, the end result is that Nepal’s poorly-resourced health system ends up bearing the cost of treating kidneys that failed while working as labourers in hot, rich countries. &nbsp;

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Dirty, Dangerous, Difficult ... and Dehydrating

At the National Kidney Centre in Kathmandu, a substantial number of the staggering 800 patients who come for regular kidney dialysis are migrant returnees from the Gulf and Malaysia.&nbsp;
Last month alone, 90% of the 90,000 Nepalis who went abroad were migrant workers. Most of them went to West Asia. They are healthy when they leave, but are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/too-hot-to-work">exposed to extreme temperatures</a>, and many return with ruined kidneys.
Nepal is suffering an epidemic of renal failure due to the workers’ continuous exposure to excessive heat, chronic dehydration, harsh work environment, and the tendency to go for energy drinks immediately after returning from work. The problem will get worse in coming decades with nonsurvivable wet-bulb summer temperatures in the countries where Nepali migrants work.&nbsp;
Truth be told, renal failure is not confined to migrant workers. Increasingly high numbers of young Nepalis are suffering from lifestyle-related ailments. Individuals as young as 25 are living with high blood pressure, fatty liver, and diabetes, among others.
In the past 40 years, Nepal has seen a dramatic transformation from a country with mortality mostly from infectious diseases to one where people are living longer but are dying due to lifestyle-related ailments. A <a href="https://nhrc.gov.np/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/BoD-Report-Book-includ-Cover-mail-6_compressed.pdf">2019 study by the Nepal Health Research Council</a> found that non-communicable diseases accounted for 71% of deaths in the country.&nbsp;
Diabetes, high blood pressure, and the irrational use of painkillers are some of the main reasons behind this figure. Kidney failure can be prevented if diabetes and hypertension are controlled in the initial stages.
Renal health is very much linked to the quality of life and economy. Patients do not suffer alone, often they are the sole breadwinners and their condition will greatly impact their families.
As per the World Health Organization, 10% percent of Nepal’s total population (300,000 people) suffer from kidney issues, 30,000 of them are in the final stage, and 3,000 need dialysis or transplant every year.
The increasing burden of non-communicable diseases is a global phenomenon but developing countries like Nepal face a double whammy as we continue to battle preventable infections too.
The chances of survival for people suffering from renal failure are slim, but the good news is that the government provides dialysis and transplantation services free of cost.&nbsp;
Currently, over 90 health facilities throughout the country provide free dialysis services to over 6,000 patients with renal failure. Over 3,000 patients have undergone kidney transplants since the service started about a decade ago, including a former prime minister and other senior government officials.&nbsp;
Every year Nepal spends Rs2.11 billion on the treatment of patients with renal failure. Local governments also provide monthly livelihood allowances to those with kidney failure or undergoing transplants. This is the highest amount the government has been spending for any single disease.&nbsp;
Even so, the focus is on the treatment of the 3,000 people living with kidney failure and scant attention has been paid to 270,000 others who suffer from some sort of kidney disease, and another 270,000 who are at risk of kidney disease.
Providing free dialysis service is not a sustainable solution. Authorities concerned should promote prevention, and encourage renal failure patients to opt for transplants. Despite the legal provision that allows any immediate family to donate a kidney, many with renal failure cannot find one.&nbsp;
Road traffic accidents are one of the biggest causes of deaths today and a kidney from brain-dead donors is a viable option. But this requires increased awareness about organ donation.
Preventing kidney disease is the best way, and the first step is to launch awareness campaigns, the cost of which is minimal compared to the treatment cost of renal patients.
The public should be told about the dangers of obesity, excessive consumption of alcohol, tobacco, salt, and junk food as well as insufficient intake of vegetables and fruits. Regular exercise, drinking plenty of water, and cutting on sugar should be promoted.
Screening is crucial to early diagnosis and a lot of lives can be saved if testing for non-communicable diseases is made free once a year for all age groups. Even then, most Nepalis do not undergo tests unless it is an emergency.&nbsp;
The government has established laboratories at the health post level to carry out the test, but very few make use of the service. People can monitor protein levels in urine and do a creatinine test, a measure that shows how well one’s kidneys are performing or filtering waste from blood. The tests cost just Rs100.
Above all, these awareness campaigns should be launched at the school and community levels so that we have an early chance to save every kidney from severe damage. Before things get worse, we Nepalis and Nepal can bring down the burden of non-communicable diseases, cut medical costs, and save lives.
Rishi Kumar Kafle is a senior Nephrologist and is the founding President of the National Kidney Center in Kathmandu.

Saving kidneys to save Nepal

Just few days into office, President Donald Trump has brought about a work-stop to ongoing USAID supported projects and complete stop to new grants or aids. The executive order was justified under Trump’s ‘America First’ promise, and it has shaken up recipient countries, including Nepal. Since 1951, USAID has provided $1.5 billion in aid to Nepal. The breakdown for recent years is $105.94 million for 2020-21 and US$ 125 million in 2018-19. In 2022, USAID and Nepal signed a five-year Development Objective Agreement worth $659 million (pictured, above).&nbsp; Some of the key sectors where USAID has supported and supports Nepal with aid include health, education, agriculture, infrastructure; economic growth, humanitarian aid and women and children empowerment. All of these projects will be affected, and grants disbursement suspended. According to USAID’s Country Development Cooperation Strategy (December 2020-December 2025), the overall goal of the USAID’s development cooperation in Nepal is to realise ‘A more self-reliant, prosperous, and inclusive Nepal that delivers improved democratic governance and health and education outcomes.’ Four identified development objectives are:&nbsp; i) More Effective, Participatory, and Equitable Democratic Ecosystem ii) Broad-Based and Inclusive Economic Growth Fostered iii) Inclusive Health and Education Systems Strengthened iv) More Equitable and Improved Natural Resources and Disaster Risk. Under these development goal and objectives as per the data available under Government of Nepal’s Aid Management Platform (AMP) there are currently USAID supported 21 key projects ongoing in Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250126090140_0bd9163cb9826464409887995eb8f2eff42c7cf1269610c3761773cde59ff52c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250126090140_0bd9163cb9826464409887995eb8f2eff42c7cf1269610c3761773cde59ff52c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="825" loading="lazy" alt="USAID fund in nepal after Trump"> </figure>  These 21 projects with some data missing totals a commitment of $178,140,467 from 2021-2029 in Nepal. Of these commitments $89,115,031 (about half) have already been disbursed. With Trump’s executive order the rest of the 50% is now going to be on hold until the review is completed and further decisions are made by the new US administration.&nbsp; Most development goals of USAID in Nepal are embedded with key principles like ‘equity’ and ‘inclusive’. With the Trump government’s aversion to the previous emphasis on Gender, Equity, Inclusion and Accessibility (GEIA) principles, projects focusing on those issues will be hit hardest. USAID upheld policies and actions that promoted equal access and opportunities for all people, with an emphasis on the Tarai, gender issues, family health and through contractors on human rights and democracy. The impact on Nepal’s development aid will be substantial, affecting livelihoods in incomes generated by USAID supported projects. Individual independent consulants already received notices over the weekend that the work they were &nbsp;doing under a USAID contract is subject to work-stop now.&nbsp; The question is whether the 5-year Country Development Cooperation Strategy for Nepal that finishes by end-2025 will go ahead. And when the new post-2025 Strategy is formulated, it is certain that the Trump’s administration will not entertain GDEI, which so far has been people-centered and not political.&nbsp; Kishor Pradhan is an independent development consultant concentrating on development information and knowledge management issues. <a href="mailto:kishorpradhanktm@gmail.com" target="_blank">kishorpradhanktm@gmail.com</a>

How USAID cut affects Nepal

Between the 1980s and 2000s, over 5,000 <a href="https://download.ssrn.com/11/01/06/ssrn_id1736064_code1383023.pdf?response-content-disposition=inline&amp;X-Amz-Security-Token=IQoJb3JpZ2luX2VjEBkaCXVzLWVhc3QtMSJIMEYCIQCiYUc7BuJ7zaDn%2BOTCFOWBgNKqYarnapqY%2FWZbamFVsgIhAOC%2FPFXHR9Dx6xTicWMj5%2BJXdIEGZ7LxKRyjrCe61Ng9KsYFCPL%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2FwEQBBoMMzA4NDc1MzAxMjU3IgzWD1Y1XNz2kaOS3jEqmgX0TbxyBTTrZrpd%2B5N72pFzJAwc%2BxTF8Dc0GnVG2tUGUYyxBt1YmfEqAw5cdOuRCZV23SSKkJwndg9IwI3yrjZGBp9XKxg4lK4Vq0Qy9RMmma5hNCVnA2T0MwGghlnmkgWPZA5ouZPiKFAecf4PE5qml2fu1wj72LEAig5R77cN6nC6%2BxTcygMiuiHrR9yZB4RyvTD9s58avGqUcn9hcIUdku3ydvAGVEgczzgEMCesRMtSgqzHz3E9bju9QLR5RpcDRp0wptfQ89uGXgyBGLCX%2BAl6uareSxQCSaDOthP4PmswWI7y7kBJbQp1pZq8r56Yoa3Qf5WVtmxbsWmDtbOsaSBa0yB6EIS8RKFGeQ%2Bcz%2BnEsOoPHIS%2BqO1k1%2BQuihjN0T66SnWFo8rl8Cv2g4GghY9p9DR3wopBJ6cE%2FtDJMY%2BZ03LkUwS%2Fc7ckyaRpfPX5g6Bb9J56a%2BNA5lnIV5o%2Fpjp%2BZJaVIvEzciyzzTwP58wznmcy3xppvK%2BwXBzBR96cPMXKTdNv9%2FqJ5jlnsgSRJpHWE3UyHbFucwQYXi19i7mCglFSuSkkL5Tg9nQWvXpuP9Z9VmMlQfQ%2F%2FpsfA6KlL81K3UK%2Bp%2FJB2mxQD9SYexZvAf1g21NUSF%2F8I19orsNrT6LutAnoJU%2FOTgO3qMbdgnR%2FuBytI3POnQAEIfbG0Za%2FrEDJ9j8CEbasNXsBMqkx8JKGRG2PUHMRC2xl5Z%2BNIbpsqGB8t%2BvAt40osDpgZStiyeiGdC1nMakUzZtBjWlttzoirCdemwPKJ8M%2BEohj2%2BLEN92yaOKdFewns0gjh%2BUxcotGvBo%2F7QZFappBNjLlR0PyanjcuB4MndEQjeIrd67ntscTKiLDI%2FfzwCHulsl6nbMpewpWFAYwg67guwY6sAGb3VJ2q%2F36hWhrVa8igP2hswnnLlcIU2uhOZa5ge2hCXkUYhL1BcSJfoWy2LwrWCXtdFo%2BT7KMU3p6O3jySdxSop8F4iO%2BJBiXVjSiXm%2FqZo3ri8sVwUgo4ksJI%2BT4AbfK3D3VGYapBgU5LdX%2FjkNwSVoR1vz4vMIyF56i7MKeYG1nFLgc0l9cIjrQI6eY869uIbgZ1XKqqBsuavCbYjSbSy7dMP0QSym%2FgmoWILGE0Q%3D%3D&amp;X-Amz-Algorithm=AWS4-HMAC-SHA256&amp;X-Amz-Date=20250103T172339Z&amp;X-Amz-SignedHeaders=host&amp;X-Amz-Expires=300&amp;X-Amz-Credential=ASIAUPUUPRWE65YAH56X%2F20250103%2Fus-east-1%2Fs3%2Faws4_request&amp;X-Amz-Signature=9b654b526e0779da4fa9f54e2fcde04ac9f7e91fb50d4f8094b1039ebb19e21b&amp;abstractId=1736064">Nepali children were adopted abroad</a>, primarily to the United States, France, and Spain. While international adoption was intended to provide vulnerable children with better opportunities, child trafficking and irregular practices prompted Nepal to suspend adoptions in 2007, and overhaul its policies. By 2010, stricter regulations aligned with the <a href="https://www.hcch.net/en/instruments/conventions/specialised-sections/intercountry-adoption">Hague Adoption Convention</a> drastically reduced adoption numbers. Today, many of these children, now adults, are returning to Nepal in search of their roots, only to encounter a society that no longer recognises them, legally or socially. Behind the statistics lie the <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01GRNPPXAC1Z3AETV9HARNCG5Q">deeply personal and emotional journey</a> of adoptees returning to reconnect with their past, seek family, and rediscover a sense of belonging. These stories reflect a broader struggle for identity and the complexities of bridging two worlds. Maya Adopted at 9 by a family in Barcelona, Maya carried fragmented memories of her early life in Nepal including the painful recollection of the day her mother and sister vanished, leaving her and her younger siblings behind. She had faint images of her mother, elder sister, and the village where she once lived. In June 2017, Maya came to Nepal accompanied by Chandra Kala and two friends, Jay and Vikram. With only a few photographs of her mother Tulsi, her elder sister Pargati, and her brother-in-law Kamal, along with a street name, Maya arrived in Birendranagar after a 20-hour bus ride from Kathmandu. “Now that we’re close, I feel like I can’t face them,” she confessed to Chandra Kala, wrestling with anxiety about what she might uncover. “I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’ll recognise them or if they’ll recognise me. I don’t know how they’ll react or what they’ll say. And then there’s him [Kamal]. I have such bad memories of him. I don’t know if I can handle this.” Chandra Kala reassured her, reminding her of her courage and the importance of this moment. Maya and her companions asked around the town with little success until a shopkeeper recognised Kamal and directed them to a nearby village. Jay went to confirm and returned excitedly, shouting, “It’s her! It’s your sister!” Maya froze, paralysed by fear and anticipation but she pushed ahead. At the village, Maya’s sister Pargati initially struggled to recognise her. Jay introduced Maya: “Do you recognise her? This is your younger sister. She’s come all the way from Spain to find you.” Slowly, realisation dawned, and the two women embraced, bridging the decades of separation with tears and disbelief. The next day, Maya met her mother Tulsi in an emotionally overwhelming reunion. Tulsi rushed into the room and embraced Maya tightly, sobbing uncontrollably: “Mero chhora-chhori, gaye, gaye… my children they went, they went …” Once the tears subsided, Tulsi and Pargati began recounting the heartbreaking circumstances of their separation. After the death of her husband, Tulsi faced relentless judgment in their village when Kamal stayed with the family before his marriage to Pargati. The villagers accused Tulsi of impropriety, calling her पापी (sinful) and demanded that the family leave. “We didn’t want to leave, but the village didn’t want us here,” explained Pargati. “We left intending to bring you and your siblings later. But when we returned, you were gone.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>An adoptee and companion return to Bal Mandir in Kathmandu after 19 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  Tulsi recalled how she had entrusted Maya and her siblings to relatives, hoping they would be cared for temporarily. However, when she returned, the children had been sent away without her knowledge. “I only trusted them because I had no other choice,” Tulsi said through tears. “I didn’t know they would send my children away. What kind of mother does that make me? They called me a bad mother, but what else could I have done?” The reunion brought healing and answers but it also exposed the societal pressures that had fractured Maya’s family. Despite the challenges, Maya spent the rest of her visit bonding with her sister, nieces, and younger half-sister, Sunita, slowly bridging the gaps created by time and distance. Maya’s journey was a testament to the courage required to confront the past, the pain of uncovering difficult truths, and the hope of rebuilding connections once lost. Her story highlights the enduring emotional complexity faced by adoptees navigating their history and identity. Ashmita Unlike some adoptees whose main focus is reuniting with their biological family, 26-year-old Ashmita’s priority has been to uncover the institutional details surrounding her adoption. She wanted to understand what the orphanage and the government knew about her background and why so much information seemed concealed. “I just want to know where I come from,” she said. “Even if I never find my biological family, having a better sense of the places and people connected to my story would mean so much.” For many adoptees, returning to Nepal is not just about reconnecting emotionally, it is about seeking formal recognition as members of the Nepali community. However, the legal framework in Nepal often fails to acknowledge their unique status.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>A mother reunites with her don after 18 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  In Nepali law, adoptees are left in limbo: their birth parents are not considered legal parents, and their ties to the country are effectively erased upon adoption. This lack of recognition creates significant hurdles, particularly in two key areas: accessing pre-adoption records and obtaining Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) status. Despite international norms like the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which guarantees the right to know one’s origins, institutions often refuse to cooperate. Orphanages and non-profits in Nepal, which hold critical pre-adoption records such as birth certificates and citizenship documents, frequently withhold this information, reflecting the systemic reluctance to provide transparency. In numerous cases, records that should include family names, addresses, or relinquishment agreements were either incomplete or falsified. These practices not only prevent adoptees from reclaiming their histories but also perpetuate their disconnection from their heritage. Ashmita’s initial requests for information from her adoption agency were met with delays and incomplete responses. When she turned to the orphanage where she spent her early years, she encountered even greater resistance. At one point, the director of the orphanage issued veiled threats. Nevertheless, Ashmita persisted and managed to find the name of the individual who had brought her to the orphanage. However, the person had disappeared, leaving yet another gap in her story. A breakthrough came when Ashmita accessed a police report that suggested she might have been born in a different municipality than the one in her adoption records, prompting her to seek help from local authorities. The police took an interest in her case and began investigating possible connections to her birth family. While progress was slow, they meticulously followed leads to help her trace her origins. “It’s not easy,” Ashmita said of the process. “But every small step feels like I’m piecing something back together.” She also noted that societal perceptions could add to the difficulty. At times, she felt questioned about her identity and her right to seek answers. “People have asked me why I care so much or even suggested that I’m not Nepali anymore because I was adopted abroad,” she reflected. Ashmita’s story is a complex account of persistence in the face of institutional and personal challenges. While her search has not yet provided all the answers she seeks, it continues to offer her insights into her early life and the systems that shaped her adoption journey. &nbsp;“These records are sealed for a reason. They are not meant to be reopened,” said a government official. Even an NGO representative said: “It’s better for everyone if the past remains in the past.” An orphanage director asked: “Why are you asking these questions? This is not your place anymore.” Hari Prasad Sacré The Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) card is a lifeline for Nepali diaspora members, granting them residency and property rights in Nepal. Yet, adoptees are notably excluded from this framework. While the law stipulates eligibility for individuals whose parents or grandparents were Nepali citizens, it makes no provision for adoptees whose legal ties to their Nepali parents were severed by adoption. When Hari Prasad Sacré, a Nepali adoptee, sought to obtain an NRN card at the Nepal Embassy in Belgium, he encountered officials unfamiliar with processing an NRN request from an adoptee. His case was the first of its kind, setting a precedent but also highlighting the systemic barriers adoptees face. "You are not eligible; your surname is Sacré, it is not a Nepali name," an embassy staff said.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5" data-rendition-name="original" width="446" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>Hari Prasad Sacré receives tika from his father Khul Prasad Adhikari during Dasain, a few weeks after receiving his NRN card. Photo: HARI PRASAD SACRÉ</figcaption> </figure>  Sacré’s situation was legally ambiguous. Although his biological parents, including his father, Khul Prasad Adhikari, are alive and he maintains contact with them, he no longer had “legal” ties to Nepal due to the adoption process. Carrying a Belgian surname the embassy staff was initially convinced the adoptee couldn’t claim Nepali origin. Nepali law, which does not recognise biological parents as legal guardians once a child is adopted, created complications for the NRN application. To navigate this complexity, Sacré relied on a testimony from his father. Issued by a local government body in Kaski, the testimony affirmed that Hari had been put up for adoption and was of Nepali origin. While this enabled the embassy to approve his NRN card, the process was unnecessarily protracted and emotionally charged, highlighting the inadequacy of current policies to accommodate the unique situations of adoptees. Sacré’s case represents a rare instance where biological parents were alive and willing to provide testimony, but many adoptees are not as fortunate. A large number of adoptees were declared “orphans” during the adoption process, even when their parents were alive. This severed their legal ties to Nepal, stripping them of documentation that could later prove their origin. For others, the absence of living biological relatives or access to their original adoption records creates insurmountable barriers. Without clear documentation or a family member to vouch for their Nepali heritage, adoptees are excluded from the NRN framework. This denies them the rights and privileges afforded by the card, including property rights, legal recognition, and a formal connection to their homeland. Current laws fail to account for the complexities of adoptees’ legal status, leaving them disconnected from their cultural and legal heritage. Adoption papers, as evidence of Nepali descent, should be accepted as proof, granting adoptees rightful access to the NRN card and ensuring their inclusion in Nepal’s diaspora. Such reforms are crucial to ensure that all adoptees, regardless of their circumstances, can reclaim their heritage and establish a sense of belonging in Nepali society. Without these changes, the systemic exclusion of adoptees will persist, perpetuating inequities and denying them the opportunity to step up as active members of the Nepali diaspora. Sacré’s case serves as both a precedent and a call to action. It exemplifies the challenges and triumphs of adoptees navigating complex bureaucracies and advocates for a more inclusive and equitable approach to reconnecting adoptees with their homeland. Nepal can draw inspiration from South Korea, where the government has actively supported the reintegration of adoptees into their society. The F4 visa, established through efforts by organisations like the Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link (GOA'L), grants adoptees the right to live and work in Korea, while dual citizenship acknowledges their dual identity as members of the diaspora and their country of origin. GOA’L further fosters reconnection by offering language classes and cultural exchange programs, creating opportunities for meaningful reintegration and belonging. As Nepal refines its NRN citizenship framework, explicitly including adoptees could address the severance of legal and cultural ties caused by international adoption. Such inclusion would provide adoptees a pathway to residency, citizenship, and rights, enabling them to reconnect with their heritage. Complementing this with programs for language acquisition, cultural immersion, and historical education would honour Nepal’s responsibility to the approximately 5,000 children sent abroad. Nepal could establish a dedicated organisation similar to South Korea’s GOA’L and help adoptees access pre-adoption records, navigate legal processes, and engage in cultural exchange initiatives. It would also serve as a bridge between adoptees and Nepali society, fostering mutual understanding and collaboration. This article is based on doctoral studies by <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01H4Z85GPS63ZWDJ3WB2E6KS70">Hari Prasad Sacré</a> and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/10357823.2022.2142932">Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez</a>. Hari Prasad Sacré, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at Ghent University in Belgium, specialising in cultural translation, multilingualism, and identity in education. His PhD, Reading Illiteracy, explored fractured multilingualism and illiteracy in displaced identities such as adoptees, with work published in leading journals like Critical Arts and the European Journal for Cultural Studies. Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at the AFIN Research Group, Autonomous University of Barcelona, with a PhD in Social Anthropology. Her research focuses on family strategies, reproductive decisions, and adoption, with extensive fieldwork in Spain and Nepal examining adoptee reunions and related governance and rights.

Searching for a homeland away from home

A young non-resident Newa person in Dallas emails a New York Times article to his grandfather in Nepal who cannot read English.
Grandad copies the English text, pastes it into Google Translate to read it in Newari.
This translation feature, available to the world’s major languages, can now also be used by the indigenous people of Kathmandu Valley to translate their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/decoding-diversity?fbclid=IwAR3P0GygTCQ7HE-LaaVOhmKSyUDLlIrR2l9VzXKwCFJ8Em7YFHSAOiiXqQE">mother tongue</a> into English and vice versa.
This involved three-and-a-half years of effort and will impact everyday life in the study and preservation of Newa culture. It also shows a path forward to Nepal’s 123 other languages and dialects.
The World Newah Organisation (WNO) in 2011 invited Newa people from around the world to a convention in London. Software engineer and historian Sanyukta Shrestha was involved, and now leads WNO.
The top priority for discussion was how to conserve the language which was classified as ‘definitely endangered’ by UNESCO, with only 850,000 speakers left.
“The Newa people are diverse: there are different sects, religions. The language and the calendar are what is common,” explains Shrestha. “The strategy was to unite the community behind an existing technology.”
Ujjwal Rajbhandari, an engineer at Google who does not even speak the language, got involved. “I thought why not take advantage of a great tool that already exists,” Rajbhandari, who is co-founder at Qubrid AI in Austin, Texas, told us on the phone.
Work started December 2020, but the prognosis was bleak. Engineers said that the project may take up to 10 years. Translate runs on a ‘transformer’, a machine learning neural network designed to take sequences as input, uses math to understand the context, and outputs a probable output. It uses an ‘attention’ mechanism, which looks at the input text and tries to work out the relationships of each word to each other word.
The more data you feed this statistical monster, the better it gets. But that was the first problem. There was a dire lack of digital material, either in Newari, bilingual Newari-Nepali or Newari-English dictionaries.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/languages-are-both-software-and-hardware">Languages are both software and hardware</a>
“Tens of thousands of digital pages of content were needed, so in 2021 we met with the editors of Newa magazines and asked to scan and digitise their material,” Shrestha recalls. “We hunted down writers, publishers, songwriters, invitation cards - anything that was written in Nepalbhasa.” &nbsp;
Google gave WNO a sheet of 1,200 sentences from random contexts, to be translated. WNO formed a committee to complete this task, and by April 2021, Translate could at least identify the language.
Nepalbhasa can be written in 13 different scripts, the two most popular are the Ranjana and Devanagari. The team chose the latter because there is a lot more material in Nepalbhasa in Devanagari, and many more people who can type in it. “Devanagari is what has allowed any of this work at all,” points out Shrestha. “Translation was the much harder problem to solve, converting output to another face is much easier.”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lost-in-translation">Lost in translation</a>, Alisha Sijapati
Now the model needed a large volume of input from the community. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">Every AI model</a> is dependent on the volume of data, even that which is introduced later. User corrections are fed back, which makes the model more robust,” says Rajbhandari.
This happened to be at peak pandemic-time. People knew how to video-chat and had time on their hands. WNO members met for one or two hours in the evening, on a Zoom call that they also broadcast on Facebook. People worked together translating. Which was very effective, because they could get instant input or feedback from others on the call. “It was cool to see was how this brought together elders who knew the language deeply, and the youngsters who have the tech skills,” says Rajbhandari.
By February 2024 there were 500,000 contributions, and Google deemed that this volume of data was sufficient for the model to ‘level up’. Translate added Nepalbhasa to its list of supported languages in June last year. The language had now been intergrated into a tool that can be used for free from anywhere with an internet connection. Accuracy was unusally high, over 90%.
It opens up a whole different world on the internet, for those who only know Nepalbhasa, since any website integrated with Google can be used automatically and instantly converted to that language.
The translations are already being used in East Europe to translate legal documents, Newa songwriters, like Ujan Shakya, use it to convert English lyrics. And when Rajbhandari speaks to WNO over video, his English is instantly translated into Newari subtitles.
“Older people are happy that language will now not die. Younger ones can use it to self-learn the language, now they can’t blame elders for not teaching them,” says Shrestha.
Yet another use is the integration with large language models, like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/chatgpt-news-about-nepal">ChatGPT</a>. LLMs encounter Nepalbhasa in their training data, so they can already generate rudimentary responses.
Says Shrestha, “You can ask questions about a Newa book in English, and the LLM &nbsp;gives you a coherent answer and even cite the page number.” This makes the use of Newa books for research possible and a lot faster.
Leading this mammoth task led Shrestha to a better appreciation for his mother tongue. “I saw the richness of Newari. There are onomatopoeia and proverbs that only elders use, and it is these and the dialects that need to be saved,” he says.
The next step is a text-to-speech, speech-to-text interface, which would open up its use by those who speak and understand Nepalbhasa but may not read, write or type it. Tourists to Nepal would also benefit.
Rajbhandari wants to work on similar projects for other endangered languages of Nepal, and the team has shown that it does not need government to do such work.
Says Rajbhandari: “We have learned many things that would make integration of future languages more efficient so we can solve problems in other projects.”

Nepal Bhasa on Google Translate

Villages along the proposed alignment of Nepal’s ambitious <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/putting-nepal-on-the-right-track">east-west train project</a> are excited about the connectivity and development it will bring. But here in Hariban village there is only apprehension. While elsewhere, there are environmental concerns about the train track slicing through national parks and protected forests, here along the densely populated Tarai plains there is worry about losing farmlands. “This project will cost me a big chunk of my land,” says Dinesh Mahato, who farms a small plot in the Ghurkauli village near the East-West Highway. “Why should I agree to give it all away when I will only be compensated partially?” Hari Narayan Mahato echoes his brother’s anger. “The map shows that I have to give up nearly 700 sq m of land, but I know the area is going to be three times bigger once construction begins,” he says. “It’s just not worth it.” There is also opposition in the Dhanpati locality, and 10 households from these two villages have refused to accept the government’s compensation rate for land which they say is much less than market value.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050152_41071574c82ba8f9698b8b7fdecb3ebf280dd314b1175262d961f76dc6d6ad5b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250105050152_41071574c82ba8f9698b8b7fdecb3ebf280dd314b1175262d961f76dc6d6ad5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1292" height="821" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  The East-West Electric Railway project will ultimately be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">Nepal’s transportation </a>artery stretching from the eastern border with India in Jhapa to Kanchanpur, connecting 24 districts. It will intersect with the proposed Birganj-Kathmandu railway at a junction in Sarlahi district. When completed, Nepal’s 950km long ‘gateway to prosperity’ as it has been dubbed, will have 123 stations, 10 tunnels, 334 bridges, a dam, and a 132kV transmission line to supply electricity to the locomotives. The project will require the acquisition of about 4,520 hectares of land, including 518 plots belonging to 4,000 households. Some of this will be along corridors through Chitwan, Bardia, Banke and Sukla Phanta <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/does-nepal-need-the-army-to-guard-parks">National Parks</a> and other nature reserves. Controversy about land acquisition and compensation as well as environmental impact have stalled the project since 2010. “The biggest issue has been compensation for land,” admits Kamal Kumar Shah of the Department of Railways. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/india-china-rail-race">India-China rail race</a>, Shristi Karki This means less than half of the work along the 70km Bardibas-Nijgad segment has been completed and 16 bridges built, and this is the first section of the railway where construction started 15 years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_9e1de8c104dcbd239a70d4a3abda71579f86502c8b9f4cdd7e184aeef90eb638.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250105050148_9e1de8c104dcbd239a70d4a3abda71579f86502c8b9f4cdd7e184aeef90eb638" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Says Senior Division Engineer Kiran Karki: “It is difficult to work here, people have built houses in public land, knowing that the railway is coming. How do we ask them to leave?” Part of the delay is also due to lack of budget, and this has increased the initial estimate of the total cost because of the increase in land value. The government has nationalised over 190 hectares for the Kakadbhitta-Inaruwa section of the railway in the eastern Tarai for which it will have to distribute Rs24.41 billion in compensation. But the budget allocated for that is only Rs1.5 billion. This means farmers have lost their land, but have not yet been compensated. The East-West Railway line was initially estimated to cost around Rs1 billion per km, but this has increased to Rs1.5 billion per km. Just the first Bardibas-Nijgad section will need an additional Rs50 billion to complete. The estimate for the entire project was estimated at Rs955 billion, but a revised budget has already surpassed Rs1.5 trillion. A major bridge across the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/kosi-now-kathmandu-next">Kosi</a> north of the barrage on the Indian border is expected to cost more than Rs410 billion. The &nbsp;Detailed Project Report (DPR) has been revised to build an elevated line over towns in the Butwal section, for example, to avoid paying exorbitant compensation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> “This project works on multi-year contracts, which have been difficult to award due to a lack of budget,” says Shah. “So the date of completion of the project depends on money being forthcoming.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_addd8a08b727efb1bf1f71752dce1a28d6ea2e9d5f76dafe5dbc9a53a223c5e0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250105050148_addd8a08b727efb1bf1f71752dce1a28d6ea2e9d5f76dafe5dbc9a53a223c5e0" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Meanwhile, activists have raised concern over the project’s environmental cost. The Railway Department has prepared DPRs for four sections of the railway, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/from-nowhere-to-nowhere">Environmental Impact Assessments (EIA)</a> have not been carried out. In Chitwan, the proposed route was realigned to avoid Chitwan National Park following a Supreme Court stay order. However, Chitwan residents have now formed a Railway Victims’ Struggle Committee, saying that the new route would cut through their densely populated communities. “We only found that our land would be part of the railway line when the people from the Railway Department came here last year,” says Hari Thapaliya of Bharatpur Municipality. “The decision to reroute the track was made overnight without any consultation with us.” Angered locals had set fire to a Railway Department vehicle when a survey team reached Krishnapur in July. Bharatpur Deputy Mayor Chitrasen Adhikari says the Railway Department did not even coordinate with the municipality about the new route. “We have proposed an alternate route to the Department,” she adds. “This project affects the livelihoods of people across <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/fogbound-tarai">the Tarai</a>, their concerns must be heard, and they must be included in the decision-making process,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_682ed3ef3e398592f098d1ac638faa4d3b7517515e0f1b2014cb9c4383e6d9c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250105050148_682ed3ef3e398592f098d1ac638faa4d3b7517515e0f1b2014cb9c4383e6d9c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  The problem is that 53% of Nepal’s total population now lives along the narrow strip of plains along the Indian border through which the railway line will pass. The Railway Department is squeezed between the need to balance environmental concerns with high compensation demands of locals. Conservationists have maintained that the railway alignment will go through ecologically sensitive areas, disturbing and fragmenting the habitat of endangered species, blocking their migration routes and disrupting water and food sources. All of this could in turn increase <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/human-animal-interface-in-nepal-wildlife-corridor">human-wildlife conflict</a>. Experts have suggested measures to invest in ‘ecological offsetting’ programs that help in the creation of new protected areas, restoration projects, and wildlife underpass and overpass corridors. There is also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-pre-monsoon-forest-fires-in-nepal">concern about the forests </a>that have to be sacrificed. Already, 13,500 trees have been cut down in the Bardibas-Nijgad section alone. The Sagarnath Forest, which stretches from Sarlahi to Mahottari, and areas under the Rautahat Division Forest also lie along the proposed alignment. Surya Raj Acharya blames inadequate monitoring and evaluation during the preparation of the DPR because government agencies lack sufficient technical capacity and experience in the railway sector.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_7823653d3f037122441c11f6485c5407acc716811bedf464255aefe3a76d97f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250105050148_7823653d3f037122441c11f6485c5407acc716811bedf464255aefe3a76d97f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  He adds, “Transparent financial planning and management are necessary to ensure the project’s sustainability and economic viability. But the contracts have been hurriedly awarded without proper land acquisition. An urgent review is necessary.” All this needs stronger political will and coordination between various agencies which is sorely lacking not just in the east-west railway project, but in other infrastructure schemes as well. When built, the nearly 1,000 km long railway will streamline cargo and passenger traffic, making it cheaper and more convenient for ordinary people. Railway junctions can also facilitate the north-south transshipment of goods and passenger traffic when coordinated with public transport. Transport costs for exports and imports from India will also be slashed. “A high-speed train running at 200 to 250km per hour will mean that trains will get from Kathmandu to Dhangadi faster than planes, and at much cheaper fares,” notes Acharya. Trains will also reduce carbon emissions by up to 30% compared to trucks and buses. Train lines will be the backbone of Nepal’s transportation system, boosting tourism in the Kathmandu, Chitwan and Lumbini triangle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_ee137f417c5712be9d2d16f295ba7e30fc207e878214103e387346dfed3a9815.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250105050148_ee137f417c5712be9d2d16f295ba7e30fc207e878214103e387346dfed3a9815" data-rendition-name="original" width="577" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Ultimately, the Kerung-Kathmandu trans-Himalayan railway will connect with the Birganj-Kathmandu line and in future be a future non-maritime corridor for India-China trade. Nepal has been trying to get the East-West railway project funded through foreign investment, but so far there has not been much interest. There also needs to be a better viability study for future railway links, otherwise Nepal may be straddled with loans it cannot repay. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-china-to-study-trans-himalayan-railway">Nepal and China to study trans-Himalayan railway</a>, Ramesh Bhushal “The border region along the Tarai remains behind in terms of education, health, and the economy,” says economist Bishwo Poudel. “A railway line alone will not do much to improve their quality of life, there have to be other interventions.” Poudel adds that a north-south railway through Kathmandu to connect India and China through Nepal makes much more economic sense. China has been studying the Kerung-Kathmandu track with tunnels under <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cleaning-up-high-places">Langtang National Park</a>, which would have technological and financial challenges. India is also working on a railway alignment to connect Kathmandu to its border town of Raxaul. At present the only operational passenger railway in Nepal is the 35km cross-border Jaynagar–Janakpur–Bardibas line. The former Department of Railways Director General Rohit Kumar Bisural is a road engineer, and says: “Very few people in Nepal have experience in railways.”

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Nepal train project struggles to stay on track