<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trump-s-second-coming">President Donald Trump</a> has reversed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepali-cities-must-champion-climate-action">climate action</a>, vaccine funding and research and in a move that directly impacts Nepal, cut US funding for gender rights and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/support-for-reproductive-health-of-nepali-women">reproductive health</a>.&nbsp;
Pulling out of the Paris climate accord and increasing<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fuel-of-the-future-is-here"> fossil energy production </a>and use will further accelerate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">melting of Himalayan glaciers</a> threatening food production and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-villages-cope-with-climate-induced-floods">increasing flood risk</a>.
But a more direct and immediate impact will be the life or death of mothers, infants and cluster — reversing Nepal’s dramatic gains in reducing maternal and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/newborn-deaths-and-a-vision-for-a-post-pandemic-nepal">infant mortality rates</a>.
Kul Chandra Gautam, former UN Assistant Secretary-General and Deputy Executive Director of UNICEF took to X: &nbsp;‘Trump and the world’s richest man Elon Musk were mercilessly gutting an agency helping the world's poorest’.
He added: ‘It's a reminder of Stalin's great purges when thousands of staff R fired, official website abruptly disabled &amp; humanitarian &amp; development aid to world's poorest halted at a whim … (Trump and Musk) are mercilessly gutting an agency helping the world's poorest.’
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/usaid-support">US Agency for International Development (USAID)</a> is defunct and the staff and contractors suspended worldwide. The official website of USAID Nepal is inaccessible and it has placed its staff on indefinite leave.
Many organisations working in the social, environment and free media space have been severely impacted with officers working from home until further notice.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">How USAID cut affects Nepal</a>, Kishor Pradhan
USAID was one of the biggest benefactors for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/placing-nepali-women-first-past-the-post">women and gender rights activities </a>in Nepal, and is understood to have spent $151.1 million in the country in just 2024.
Since 2000, USAID has delivered Rs196 billion to support development projects in Nepal. Of this over $1.5 billion was allocated across multiple sectors such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-goal-is-empowerment-and-independence-of-women">empowerment of women</a> and children, humanitarian aid, health, education.
At the 2024 Nepal Investment Summit, the DFC, the U.S. International Development Finance Corporation, committed more than $270 million in projects across the country to support various economic initiatives as well as the marginalised and women. USAID and Nepal in 2022 signed a five-year Development Objective Agreement worth $659 million.
While much of the funding was spent on staff salaries and other administrative costs, it was still crucial support for fieldwork. Experts interviewed for this report did not want to be quoted by name, but said they were concerned that the fund freeze could seriously undermine Nepal's development trajectory.
The four key programs of the USAID in Nepal relate to improving women’s health, supporting <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/strength-in-numbers-for-female-farmers">women farmers</a>, expanding access to quality education for marginalised youth including girls and directly financing projects promoting gender equality and women empowerment.
Given that America was also funding agencies like the Global Alliance for Vaccines and Immunisation (GAVI), WHO, and UNICEF, Nepal’s successful immunisation, maternal and child health, healthcare systems and nutrition programs will also be indirectly hit.
The 2022 Demographic and Health Survey of Nepal records 21 neonatal deaths for every 1,000 live births, highlighting continued challenges in maternal and infant health. USAID had in response allocated $72 million to reduce mortality rates and enhance overall <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-are-dying-because-they-are-poor">healthcare access</a>.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time">Saving one Nepali mother at a time</a>, Aruna Uprety
Following Trump’s executive order, all agencies responsible for administering foreign development assistance were required to immediately halt new funding and obligations. The Office of Management and Budget (OMB), in coordination with the Secretary of State, is to conduct a thorough evaluation of each program’s efficiency and relevance to US foreign policy.
This review process is to determine whether programs should be resumed, modified, or terminated. Funding may resume during the 90-day review period if assessments justify its continuation, with final decisions requiring approval from the Secretary of State and the OMB Director. The Secretary of State can also grant specific waivers to exempt critical programs from the pause.
This has put Nepal essentially in a ‘wait and watch’ mode, say insiders as the pause has not put forward any criteria for evaluation and review of their projects.
Some specific programs that the US decides are important may receive exemptions or have their funding resumed sooner than three months, but nothing is certain.
Writing for the Nepal Economic Forum this week, SujeevShakya said: ‘The uncertainties prevailing in terms of the possibility of review and resumption or the permanent halt of the activities have been a bigger concern in the development fraternity. In case this is a permanent stop of US aid to the world, then it may also trigger a trend of other countries following the suit… The latter part of 2025 will see the impact of aid freeze playing out.’
The outlook for gender-related projects in Nepal depends heavily on the results of this review and the political climate in the United States.
In the short term, organisations may need to seek alternative funding sources or scale down operations. In the medium term, if the freeze is lifted, there may be a period of recovery and rebuilding as projects resume and attempt to regain momentum.
However, prolonged funding disruptions could lead to long-term setbacks in gender and women-related programs and efforts in Nepal.
The Nepal government is exploring alternative funding sources to mitigate the effect by engaging with international donors, including diplomatic discussions between Nepal and the United States but without much success. Some experts suggest that the freeze maybe the shock the government needs to carry out its responsibility of protecting its citizens.
The NGO Federation of Nepal, an umbrella organisation of Nepali NGOs, has expressed concerns about the significant impact on US-funded projects and programs, particularly those related to child health, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/food-for-thought-for-nepal-s-nutrition-planners">nutrition</a>, environment, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/un-climate-report-declares-planetary-emergency">climate change</a>.
The federation has highlighted the loss of jobs and the potential long-term setbacks in development efforts. The USAID funds as many as 300 NGOs, non-profits and consultancies in Nepal, all of which are directly affected by the cuts.
Given the recent news about the alleged misuse of USAID funds and President Trump's remarks, it seems increasingly likely that the 90-day review period might be extended. This situation serves as a stark reminder for our country to take greater responsibility for our own development. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-less-and-less-able-to-feed-itself">It's high time we reduce our dependence </a>on grants, which are often mired in controversies and lack proper transparency.

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Trump shock wave hits Nepal

<figure><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Nail_salon_-Fujiyoshida_01.jpg"></a></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414110/63723c609c7e80680e0c9618jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2896" height="1944"/><figcaption>Photo Credit: Wikimedia</figcaption>When 38-year-old nail salon worker Pabitra Dash recalls the physical pain she felt the first time she miscarried, she says that the emotional and mental anguish she felt hurt much more.“After the miscarriage, no one comes back to support and give a good aura,” she said.The joy she felt the second time she got pregnant was quickly squashed when she began to feel familiar abdominal pain.“I knew it was going to be a miscarriage again,” Dash said.Throughout her brief third pregnancy, Dash was consumed by anxiety. Since moving with her husband to New York from Nepal, they wanted to start a family. The thought of miscarrying again was too much to bear. Dash’s fears rang true when yet again she had to rush to the hospital in pain.In total, Dash suffered seven miscarriages in the span of eight years. The miscarriages coincided with her time as a nail technician, which she quit in 2018. Initially, she was reluctant to talk openly about her miscarriages to others in the Nepali community. Nepali women who did know would shun her, afraid that her bad luck would rub off and cause them to miscarry as well. Still, she began to hear similar stories from her coworkers at the nail salon. As it turns out the chemicals that were in nail polishes, glues, and other chemicals that they were exposed to at the nail salon daily, may have caused miscarriages and other reproductive health issues according to advocates.“I started to talk with other friends who had similar issues,” she said. “Some of them had no children too. From that, I learned it was related to our work.”Last week, six years after it was first announced, New York State implemented long-awaited ventilation regulations in nail salons. <a href="https://dos.ny.gov/system/files/documents/2021/03/ventilation-how-to-guide-final_dos.pdf">The new regulations require nail salon owners to protect workers and clients by providing proper ventilation to filter out toxic particles and fumes.</a> The roughly <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2022/mar/15/new-york-nail-salon-industry-council-workers#:~:text=There%20are%20about%204%2C000%20nail,and%207%2C000%20throughout%20the%20state.">7,000 nail salons</a> across the state will be required to install a mechanical ventilation system or risk <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/22/nyregion/ventilation-to-be-required-in-all-new-york-nail-salons.html">losing their license to operate</a>. The regulations come as workers, supporters, and a growing number of experts have sounded the alarm about the reproductive health hazards women nail salon workers are exposed to daily.“All these chemical smells make you depressed,” she said. “When I go outside I feel so relaxed but when I go inside the salon I feel like I want to cry, I want to be alone.”In 2016, after nail salon workers organized to <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2016/03/01/nyregion/nail-salon-sweeps-in-new-york-reveal-abuses-and-regulatory-challenges.html">expose the rampant abuse in the nail salon industry</a>, the state <a href="http://www.centernyc.org/urban-matters-2/nail-salon-workers-assert-their-rights">implemented a series of new regulations that would force nail salons to provide adequate ventilation</a> as a way to mitigate the toxic effects of the chemicals often used by workers. Existing nail salon businesses were initially given five years to comply, and regulations went into effect on October 4, 2021. However, citing difficulties borne by the pandemic, these requirements were<a href="http://hochul"> delayed twice by Governor Hochul</a>, giving businesses another year to come into compliance with the requirements. Meanwhile, many nail salon workers, like Dash, have suffered from debilitating reproductive health issues.Also Read: <a href="https://documentedny.com/2022/06/03/new-york-legislative-session-pro-worker-bills-nail-theft-home-care/">As New York’s Legislative Session Ends, Several Pro-Worker Bills Are Left Behind</a>A recent report by the New York Committee for Occupational Safety and Health (NYCOSH) found that 20 percent of nail salon workers reported having had issues with their reproductive health, compared to 11 percent of the general U.S. population of women of reproductive age who have had reproductive issues. The study, which surveyed 142 nail salon workers in New York, also found that 25 percent of nail techs had complications during pregnancy, compared to just eight percent of all pregnancies in the U.S. In fact, the study found that nail salon workers were more than three times as likely to have babies born with birth defects than the general population.“For decades, workers have spoken about reproductive damage as a result of their chemical exposure in nail salons,” said Charlene Obernauer, Executive Director of the New York Committee for Occupational Safety and Health (NYCOSH). “The results of our survey show what workers have consistently said about their health and well-being; ventilation regulations are essential to reducing this exposure and helping to create healthier nail salons for workers, customers, and owners alike. This is not just a workers’ rights issue, it’s a reproductive justice issue.”Aaron Lamplugh, a research scientist at the Cooperative Institute for Research in Environmental Sciences, University of Colorado Boulder, has done extensive research into the level of toxins nail salon workers are exposed to and found the risks to the women workers are significant.“There are a lot of chemicals in nail salons. It’s sort of a chemical soup,” he said. “We definitely measured unusually high levels of benzene, toluene, and other chemicals, all sorts of chemicals well associated with nail products.”Chemicals such as benzene, which is found in some nail polishes are well-documented<a href="https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/11/171113095435.htm"> to cause significant birth defects</a> when exposed to high dosages. Toluene, which also can be found in nail polish and fingernail glue, can cause kidney or liver damage as well as cause birth defects. Long-term exposure to Dibutyl phthalate, a common ingredient in nail polish, <a href="https://www.acs.org/content/acs/en/pressroom/presspacs/2015/acs-presspac-september-2-2015/exposure-to-phthalates-could-be-linked-to-pregnancy-loss.html">is known to cause miscarriages</a>. Although the most toxic effects are only associated with high and persistent exposure, nail salon workers often work <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2022/mar/15/new-york-nail-salon-industry-council-workers">long hours</a> in often tiny, unventilated storefronts day in and day out.“The exposure that a lot of these workers are experiencing, there is a lot of potential for them to have adverse health consequences later in life,” Lamplugh said.Like most of her coworkers, Dash was not aware of the prescient dangers she was exposed to on a daily basis. She didn’t realize that some of the nail polish bottles had warning labels written on them. At the time, she was not as proficient in English as she is now, and many of her coworkers didn’t understand what was written on the bottles. Only after she began to be involved with <a href="https://adhikaar.org/">Adhikaar, a women-led worker’s center that services the Nepali-speaking community</a>, did she become aware of the danger.“There is already written on the color [nail polish] that this color may be harmful to you while you pregnant but we didn’t know that,” said Dash. “ Later I read this for myself and learned that formaldehyde is not good for reproductive health.”Senator Jessica Ramos, Chair of the Senate Labor Committee and sponsor of the Nail Salon Minimum Standards Council Act is grateful that ventilation regulations have finally gone into effect but, wishes it had come sooner.“In order to do their part in ensuring the small businesses that employ them made it through the pandemic, workers compromised on a delay of the implementation of these ventilation standards,” she said. The choice between their livelihood and their health is not one we should be asking workers to make.”Since quitting the nail salon industry, Dash was finally able to have a son. She has taken on a leadership role in Adhikaar where she has met so many other women who experienced  miscarriages or gave birth to children with birth defects. It’s never easy. When she thinks back on what she was forced to experience it pains her.“Is this a human rights country, is this the way they treat women who have miscarriages?” she said. “It’s really hard and these are the things that make me depressed.”Although there was a time when she wouldn’t talk about her miscarriages out of shame, she now feels that she has to so that other women don’t go through the same experience as she did.“I really don’t want to go deeper and deeper but I have to because those are the things that happened in my life and this is not acceptable.The story was first published in <a href="https://documentedny.com/">Documented, a non-profit news site</a> devoted solely to covering New York City’s immigrants and the policies that affect their lives. Read the story <a href="https://documentedny.com/2022/10/12/nail-salon-reproductive-health-baby-pregnant-ventilation/">here</a>.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/implant-service-providers-take-contraception-to-nepals-poor/">Implant service providers take contraception to Nepal’s poor</a>, Rojita Adhikari<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/sisterhoods-empowering-education-in-nepal/">Sisterhoods empowering education in Nepal</a>

Nail Salon Workers Say Proper Ventilation Can Protect Their Reproductive Health

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161120/636d17689c7e80680e0ac765jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1701" height="1134"/><figcaption>Photo: KATE HOLT/IRIN</figcaption></figure>The spread of ultrasound clinics to detect the sex of babies is leading to a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-foeticide-to-football/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">slaughter of daughters</a> in Nepal, sharply skewing the country’s gender balance.A recent survey has shown that 77% of expecting mothers undergo ultrasound scans, and 12% abort their babies after identifying their gender.For every 106 boys born, there are only 100 girls, and 12 of Nepal’s 77 districts are already reporting a widening gender gap. Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-holding-census-despite-covid-and-boycott/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">national census next month</a> is expected to reveal the true number of ‘missing girls’ in its total population.The study conducted by the <a href="https://crehpa.org.np">Center for Research on Environment, Health and Population Activities</a> (CREHPA) shows that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/everyday-as-if-it-is-womens-day/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">deep-rooted patriarchal values </a> and preference of a boy over a girl child is entrenched in Nepali society.“Nepal easily tops the list of Asian countries that prefers a son over a daughter and the crime of sex-selective abortion continues unabated,” said Bandana Rana of the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/en/hrbodies/cedaw/pages/cedawindex.aspx">Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women</a> (CEDAW).Despite prevailing laws, sex-elective abortion in Nepal is increasing, experts told a ‘Gender-Biased Sex Selection’ workshop organised by the <a href="https://www.sancharika.org/portal/index.php">Sancharika Samuha</a> media group in Kathmandu last week.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161120/636d176b9c7e80680e0ac766jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1080" height="524"><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nepali-times-search/?q=census">Sex-selective abortion</a> is illegal in both Nepal and India, but the practice continues in both countries where sons inherit ancestral property and daughters are not considered worth the investment.Even if there is no clear preference in the first pregnancy, 44% of women in the CREPHA survey said that they would want a son the second time they are pregnant, and only 28% said they would like a daughter.Their reasons included persecution and hostility from husbands and in-laws for giving birth to a daughter, lack of control over their body, the economic dependence on their husband’s family, respect for having a son, among others.The practice is more prevalent in Hindu families, Muslims in Nepal’s Tarai and among the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/rihana-sheikh-dhaphali-victim-of-dowry-related-violence-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">groups practicing dowry</a>. It is less common among Nepal’s indigenous groups, where the preference for boys is less pronounced.Many pregnant mothers are taken by in-laws to private clinics in the cities or across the border in India seeking ultrasound scans to find out the gender of their babies. Many then abort the baby if it is a girl, risking their health.Anyone identifying the gender of a baby with an intention of committing sex-selective abortion can face three to six months in jail. Those involved in sex-selective abortion can be served with up to additional 12 months of imprisonment.But the culprits are often not identified or prosecuted, claims advocate Sonali Regmi, adding that society’s denial of women's independent identity was the main reason for the abortions. Indeed, it is often not the mother that wants the abortion, but her husband or in-laws.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161120/636d176e9c7e80680e0ac767jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="285">“A woman still <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/child-marriage-in-nepal-eloped-at-13-mother-by-17/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">doesn’t have an identity</a>  apart from being someone’s mother, wife, daughter and sister. The biggest reflection of this is the fact that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-waits-for-an-unequal-citizenship-law/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">citizenship is still not issued in the name of mother</a>,” says Regmi.Abortion was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5338#.YVgZLS8w3u0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">legalised in Nepal in 2002 </a> nd as per the law, is legal up to 12 weeks of gestation, up to 18 weeks in case of rape or incest, and at any stage of the pregnancy if it poses danger to the physical or mental health of the expecting woman, or if the foetus suffers from a severe physical deformity.Prior to this, Nepal had a strict anti-abortion law, and women seeking the service were imprisoned. The practice of relatives accusing young daughters-in-law of abortion just to put them behind bars was prevalent.While legalisation of abortion gave an avenue for women to pursue safe services, it also led to the proliferation of ultrasound clinics across the country allowing parents to terminate pregnancies if they were girls.Activists estimate the number of ‘missing girls’ every year as high as 50,000 babies aborted after parents find out through ultrasound scans that they are girls. This did not include abortions carried out without parents knowing the gender of their babies.Speaking at the workshop, Sancharika Group's Nitu Pandit said the media had a role in spreading the message: “We need to continue raising awareness about sex-selective abortion, and push the state for corrective measures to reduce it.”

Anita Bhetwal

Nepal’s ‘missing girls’

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2689c7e80680e033326jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="856"/><figcaption>HEROINES: Nepal’s rural female health volunteers are at the forefront of protecting children and mothers and informing women about reproductive health. Pic: UNFPA Nepal</figcaption></figure>I am the daughter of a formidable campaigner for women’s reproductive rights in Nepal. Decades ago, when such issues were not part of the playbook for development activists, my mother, a medical doctor, started setting up family planning programs after seeing women die in childbirth, shifting from hospital work into public health.She established health posts for maternal and infant care. She fought for the reproductive rights of women and girls including access to contraception and comprehensive sexuality education. And most important, she instituted a network of female health workers all over Nepal.For a woman raised at a time when it was unusual for girls to be educated, my mother has travelled long distances. Not only did she fight for Nepali women to have a choice, but she ensured that her two daughters had the same privilege.I am myself now the mother of a daughter, who will soon enter adulthood.  She will then make her own decisions, including about her reproductive choices. My daughter is an Irish national.So I spent the weekend of 26 May, during the <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2018/05/26/ireland-votes-overwhelmingly-repeal-abortion-ban" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Irish referendum on abortion rights</a>, vacillating between crying with joy in one moment, and overwhelmed with anxiety about the outcome at another. My colleague Aisling Reidy, who is Irish, wrote movingly about her own experience of emotion and exhilaration that weekend. And about the need for other countries to move toward that arc of justice for girls and women.Many Irish women and men travelled back to Ireland to cast their yes votes. The hashtag #HomeToVote was trending on Twitter that weekend. The resolve to give women rights over their bodies was quite incredible.I write this not only because I care about my daughter’s rights. I write because the rights of so many women and girls in Ireland will hopefully change as a result of this vote. But above all, I write this also because it is occasion to be proud of my own country.Nepal, often in the news because of its urgent development needs, was, on this crucial issue, ahead of many of its neighbouring countries, decriminalising <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19627#.WxkWRu6FPIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">abortion</a> in 2002.Women who had been imprisoned for abortion were released. Women today who want to exercise their choice over their bodies can legally do so, without restriction and with access to safe health care. Much remains to be done in Nepal, however, to ensure that those rights are available to all girls and women, regardless of financial or geographical situations.But today I celebrate my Nepali mother. And I rejoice for my Irish daughter.Tejshree Thapa is a senior Asia researcher at Human Rights Watch.

Nepali mothers and an Irish daughter

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Mamata Kumari Yadav was born just before her father passed his high school exam on his second attempt. Which is why Ram Kewal Ray thinks his daughter brings good luck. Mamata is now a government civil servant, and has three sisters and a younger brother. All are doing well in their professions: one is a doctor at the Army Hospital, another has an MSc in Microbiology, and the other is working in Australia after finishing her MPh. Her brother, an engineering student, is in Kathmandu. “It was all because our parents prioritised education that we did so well in life,” says Mamata. Instead of being woken up to do household chores or work on the family farm, they were encouraged to finish their homework first. While Ram showed his daughters the way and encouraged them to study, it was Sanjeev Karn, a primary school teacher at a school near their home, who motivated them to do well. On International Women's Day, the story of Mamata and her sisters is an inspiring account of dedication, hard work and good guidance.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422" data-rendition-name="original" width="873" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Samata, Punam, Kumudini and Mamata, the four accomplished Yadav sisters from Sarlahi</figcaption> </figure>  Boys always came first in class, but that changed when Mamata and her sisters started excelling in their studies. All four sisters consistently ranked first in their classes and became widely known in the community for their performance. “My friend Sanjay Chaudhary was my biggest competition and used to stand second. He is an engineer now. We are still good friends and laugh about how we were rivals,” recalls Mamata. In a school where no girl had previously passed the high school exam with first division, Mamata became the first to do so and set a record that her sisters later followed. Her uncle in Kathmandu called her father Ram Kewal with the news that Mamata had passed in the first division. Overjoyed, her father went to school and bought Fanta for all her teachers in celebration.&nbsp; Mamata went to Chitwan after receiving a scholarship for a health assistant course. Although her school in Sarlahi was Nepali-medium, she was not able to speak the language properly and felt more comfortable using Maithili. In the new environment, she struggled with language and confidence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata in Sarlahi with her siblings and father when she was young</figcaption> </figure>  She was surprised to learn that Maithili is not spoken all over Nepal. The course was demanding, the textbooks were in English, the student community was diverse, and academic expectations were high. But Mamata began building friendships and confidence. Her sisters later joined her in Chitwan. Mamata returned to Sarlahi and began working with an organisation as a counsellor on sexually transmitted infections. It was her first job, and was proud to be able to support her father. Her second job with a non-profit required field visits across Sarlahi district, so she bought her own second-hand scooter.&nbsp; “Some neighbours did not approve that my parents gave me so much freedom, but they did not pay much heed to such warnings or gossip,” she says. Seeking stability she prepared for the civil service exam for auxiliary health worker position and was stationed in Sindhupalchok. When her father came to drop her off, being used to flat land he was a bit nervous about the steep mountains and 90-minute commute on foot. But he was proud to hear her patients call her ‘doctor’. Later, Mamata transferred back to her home district of Sarlahi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata Kumari Yadav</figcaption> </figure>  On a work trip to Kathmandu, on her family's recommendation she met a young man who was pursuing a master’s degree in engineering. Their first meeting was at a cafe in the presence of her brother. She found him simple, gentle, and committed to his studies, qualities that resonated with her own personality.&nbsp; “We got married, and my parents did not have to invest in dowry for me and my sisters because they had invested in us,” recalls Mamata, who then became a health post in-charge in Lalitpur. Following administrative restructuring, she found herself reporting to juniors, which limited her sense of growth. She then decided to prepare for the civil service exams in administration. Coming from a health background, the syllabus was unfamiliar and broad. Her first attempt taken without much preparation was unsuccessful, a first failure ever for Mamata.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Seeing off her sister Samata who studied MPH under the AusAID Scholarship</figcaption> </figure>  By this time, she had a son and the exam took a back seat for two years while managing her health post and raising him. When he turned two, she sent her son to Sarlahi, where her mother Phul Kumari took care of him so she could focus on her studies. This time, she passed. She became the first from her family in a government administrative position. After gaining enough experience, she aims to go back to the Madhes to serve in government positions as an honest bureaucrat. Her parents continue as they always have. Phul Kumari takes care of the household while Ram Kewal runs a pharmacy and tends to the farm back in Sarlahi. &nbsp; “We daughters owe a lot to our parents because our peers were never given the kinds of opportunities we had,” says Mamata. “They were married young and now have adult children. There is nothing girls cannot do if given the right guidance and opportunities.”

The Girl Dad of Nepal

Amidst the euphoria in Nepal about the RSP’s landslide victory, the party’s future government, possibly led by Balendra Shah will plunge headlong into an energy and economic crisis sparked by the war in West Asia. Nepal gets all its diesel, petrol, gas and aviation fuel from India and lacks a strategic stockpile to buffer against shortages. The United States has unsanctioned Russian crude oil to India for one month, but India will only export refined petroleum products to Nepal after meeting its own domestic demand. As it is, India has only 10 days of stockpile of cooking gas and it is giving preference to household use. Energy experts say new oil and gas supplies from Russia and elsewhere will take another month to arrive at Indian ports. “This conflict didn’t develop overnight, yet we did nothing to augment our reserves. Clearly, we didn’t manage procurement anticipating supply disruptions,” says economist Pushkar Bajracharya. The conflict has escalated, seriously disrupting global petroleum supplies. Nearly 20% of the world’s oil and gas moves out of the Strait of Hormuz which is now blocked. The Persian Gulf makes up most of the oil and liquified natural gas supplied to Japan (75%), India (50%) and China (38%). Crude oil prices have nearly doubled to $100 a barrel this week.&nbsp; “This crisis is only going to intensify, so in the short term, it means fuel prices will increase as will the cost of goods and services,” adds Bajracharya. “This doesn’t bode well for the new government, especially when people have such high expectations from it.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1315" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Strait of Hormuz NT"> </figure>  Fuel stoppages from India have happened before, notably during the 2015 Blockade. But Nepal could be better placed this time to cushion the shock because of the proliferation of battery-operated vehicles, and electrification of household cooking to some extent. “The increase in electric vehicles provides some relief, but it is not enough,” says energy economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “Most critical services still run on diesel, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”&nbsp; Nepal’s expanding road network means diesel and petrol consumption is also increasing. If the war drags on, there will be a critical shortage of aviation fuel that could also hurt tourism at the start of the trekking and mountaineering season. There is already a nationwide shortage of cooking gas which is used by 62% of Nepali households. &nbsp; The fuel crisis will have a knock-on effect on the economy which the RSP government will have to tackle on an emergency footing as soon as it comes into office. The priority would be to cap fuel prices with subsidies, control hoarding, and in the longer term expedite the switch to electricity for transportation and cooking.&nbsp; MONEY IN The other impact will be on jobs in West Asia and remittances. Nearly half the $11 billion a year Nepalis send home every year comes from West Asian countries. Nepal’s hard currency reserves have hit a record high $21.09 billion, but that cash will be of no use if there is no fuel to buy. A sharp drop in remittances due to the collapse of the economies of the Gulf states if the war is prolonged will have a multiplier impact particularly on Nepalis' household expenses and the country’s economy in general. This in turn will have a knock-on effect on investment, and affect the RSP government’s main agenda which is to create jobs at home. The vicious cycle will then mean that more Nepalis will want to migrate for overseas jobs, but options in the Gulf may not be available. The RSP’s ministers in government will have to come up with innovative ways to re-integrate Nepalis forced to return because they lose their jobs, or for safety reasons. There are nearly 2 million Nepalis across the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and another 7,000 mainly women caregivers in Israel. “Other than the impact on remittances and the economy, there could be the additional challenge of rescuing over 2 million Nepalis in West Asia if it comes to that,” says Bajracharya. “We don’t have the resources, and we will have to rely on India’s logistical help.” The RSP’s main vote bank was among global Nepalis, who could not cast &nbsp;ballots themselves but influenced families and friends back home to choose the party. Social media was abuzz with slogans that promoted how choosing the RSP would bring their children back home from the Gulf. “The RSP got a majority, and that’s a good thing but voters came together to oppose UML, NC and the Maoists. But there is no clear ideology or philosophy, so while their slogan to bring Nepalis back from the Gulf sounds nice, what would they come back to?” asks Gyawali. The Nepali diaspora in the Gulf that influenced the electorate so effectively will now be looking at how the government it helped get to power in Kathmandu will help as war engulfs the region.&nbsp; There is an almost unrealistically high expectation of the RSP, and the party may not even get the customary 100-day honeymoon period. The cabinet could be put together easily enough, but the bureaucracy, judiciary, police, and the Upper House are all populated by loyalists of the old parties. Despite bad blood, the RSP will have to work together with all parties in the face of the crisis unleashed by the war. And Nepal’s politicised foreign policy must be galvanised to deal with the crisis.

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