To increase tiger numbers, you need prey. Prey need grass. Grass needs water. The tiger may be at the top of the food chain, but its fate is linked to the deer population which in turn depends on the abundance of grass, and which in turn hinges on the availability of water. Nowhere else in Nepal today are these intricate linkages within an ecosystem as stark as in Bardia National Park, which has seen the population of its tigers increase dramatically from 18 in 2009 to nearly 87 today. With Chitwan National Park nearly saturated with tigers, it is largely because of Bardia’s success that Nepal is set to become the first tiger range country in the world to exceed the target of doubling its population of big cats by 2022. But, there are clouds on the horizon. An adult male tiger needs a vast territory of 100sq km to roam in, while a female needs about 20 sq km. And each individual needs to make at least one kill of a deer-sized animal a week. But the prey density in Bardia has declined sharply from 93 to 77 per sq km just in the last five years. This is due to an increasing tiger population, forest encroachment on former grasslands, the abundance of tall grass species which deter deer, as well as a falling ground water table due to global warming. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171140/636935189c7e80680e03e035jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="627"></div> All this adds up to the tigers not getting enough prey. Tigers then venture outside the park to eat livestock, intensifying human-wildlife conflict and endangering conservation efforts. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/habitat-destrcution-of-tiger-in-Tarai,3423" target="_blank">Allow tigers to roam freely</a>, Om Astha Rai <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/city-for-transshipment-of-wildlife,3424" target="_blank">Caught red handed with red pandas</a>, Smriti Basnet Today, Bardia National Park is at the forefront of research into restoring the predator-prey balance. Shyam Thapa of the Nepal Trust for Nature Conservation (NTNC) is studying a dozen especially designed research plots to find ways to encourage the growth of the kind of tender green shoots that the five species of deer in Bardia like to graze on. “There are no longer as many wild elephants, and no more gaur (wild ox), arna (wild buffalo) and nilgai (large antelope) that used to trample on the tall grass so the deer could feed,” Thapa explains. “The deer do not like the tall grass or the forest undergrowth because they need a field of vision to look out for predators.” <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171140/636935159c7e80680e03e034jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="800">Photo: BIKRAM RAI</div> Before and after satellite imagery of Bardia clearly show the grassland being overrun by spreading forest cover. Drought caused by climate change, as well as the reduced flow of &nbsp;water in the Geruwa channel of the Karnali River because of boulder mining and the Bheri-Babai diversion upstream have lowered the water table and reduced grass cover inside the park. A lower water table favours the growth of trees, not grass. “We are trying to see what are the factors that will make the kind of grass that the deer like to eat grow back, because this will increase the number of deer which will in turn allow the park to support a larger tiger population,” says botanist Laxmi Raj Joshi at the NTNC. Like Chitwan, Bardia used to be opened for a few weeks every winter to allow villagers to collect thatch grass inside the Park. This further reduced grass cover, disturbed wildlife and caused wild fires. Since most farmers now have tin roofs or cement houses, there is no longer a need to open the park for thatch collection. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/conserving-Chitwan-National-Park,1106" target="_blank">Conservation matters</a>, Hum Gurung <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/planned-new-east-west-railroad-and-expressway-threaten-the-Chitwan-National-Park,1079" target="_blank">Tresspassing into nature</a>, Bhrikuti Rai and Sunir Pandey The Park has dug wells and installed solar-powered pumps to ensure that the favourite watering holes of the animals do not go dry. There are also plans to translocate arna, gaur and nilgai from other nature reserves to restore the original habitat and add larger prey for tigers. With these measures, conservationists believe that Bardia and the adjacent Banke National Parks can accommodate another 100 tigers. But for now, as tiger numbers increase and prey density declines, tigers are venturing outside the park to prey on livestock. Wild elephants also often raid crops and trample houses outside the park, increasing tension between the Park and people. In order to reduce conflict between villagers and wildlife, Bardia National Park is experimenting with more effective electrical fences that can stop bull elephants and tigers (see box). “The idea is to reduce human-wildlife conflict,” says Cas de Stopelaar of the Himalayan Tiger Foundation based in The Netherlands, which is supporting the research on fencing and grasslands. “The tiger is an umbrella species, if you protect the tiger you protect everything. The idea is to increase the food for the tiger by increasing the food for its prey.” Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12526#.W_-nmdszbIV" target="_blank">Conflict vs conservation</a>, Sophia Tamot <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Conservation-and-tourism-Chitwan-National-Park,2957" target="_blank">Conservation and tourism</a>, Kristjan Edwards <h2>No fence-sitting on conservation</h2> <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171140/636935189c7e80680e03e035jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="627"></div> The grainy night-time webcam video shows a tusker approaching an electrical fence designed to keep wildlife from raiding crops outside the Bardia National Park. There is a small spark as the elephant gets a shock on its trunk, and retreats. In another clip, the same elephant returns, and knowing that the wire is live, uses his tusk to knock down the cement pillar. Through trial and error, the smart elephant has learnt that neither its tusk, nor the cement pole conducts electricity, and has learnt to destroy the fence without touching the wires. In another instance that was not caught on camera, a bull elephant lifts a dead tree with its trunk and flings it across the electrified fence, and walks across. Humans and elephants are constantly trying to outwit each other here in one of the biggest sanctuaries for wild elephants in Nepal. “The elephants always surprise us with how creative they are,” says Kumar Khadka of the National Nature Conservation Trust (NTNC) whose team has now come up with a prototype fence design that protects the pillar as well with electrified wire tentacles. The elephants are attracted by bananas and other treats placed inside the fence and are monitored by movement-activated cameras at night. So far, humans are winning. But one never knows if the elephants will come up with an even more clever plan to demolish the fence. Cas de Stopelaar of the Himalayan Tiger Foundation explains the importance of the fence research: “As tiger and elephants numbers inside the park increase, they will go out of the park in search of food. Human-wildlife conflict will reduce the villagers’ interest in conservation. So we need to have enough food for the wildlife inside the park, and have a stronger fence.” Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/how-humans-can-live-with-wild-elephants%20,4179" target="_blank">How humans can live with wild elephants</a>, Sheren Shrestha and Gokarna Jung Thapa <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/more-rhinos-means-more-encounter,4045" target="_blank">More rhinos mean more encounters,</a> Alex Dudley

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It's a jungle out there

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171140/6369351a9c7e80680e03e036jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>JUNGLE LAW: Kanchhi Lama lives in Parsa near the Indian border. She has fortified her goat shed, but still fears leopard attacks.</figcaption></figure>Parsa National Park has 18 adult tigers today, up from seven in 2013. In Chitwan, tiger numbers have increased from 91 to 93. In Banke National Park it went up from 4 to 21, and from 50 to 87 in Bardiya National Park.Across the border in India, there have been similar increases. Here in the Valmiki Tiger Reserve, the number of big cats has gone up, but the exact count will be known after an ongoing Indian tiger census is completed. There has been a similar increase in Katarniyaghat Wildlife Reserve bordering Nepal. However, greater tiger populations along the India-Nepal border have increased the threat of cross-border poaching and human-wildlife conflict.“Our conservation efforts will succeed only if we see Chitwan, Parsa and Valmiki Tiger Reserve not as separate territories but as a complex,” says Ajay Sinha, Range Officer of the Valmiki Tiger Reserve in Bihar. “We are collaborating with Nepal to ensure that we provide animals what they need, and do not duplicate efforts. We communicate almost on a daily basis, bypassing bureaucratic procedures that would take months.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=17191&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's a jungle out there</a>, Kunda Dixit<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=17109&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Naturally Nepal</a>, EditorialBoth India and Nepal are now getting communities on both sides of the border involved in conservation. The two governments, with the help of World Wildlife Fund (WWF), have installed solar-electric fences to stop animals from entering villages, distributed biogas and LPG gas to reduce use of firewood, promoted livestock management to reduce encroachment into forests, and formed Rapid Rescue Teams (RRT) and Community-Based Anti-Poaching Units (CBAPU).<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171140/6369351e9c7e80680e03e037jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Last year, when several rhinos from Chitwan were swept into India by a flood, residents of Binwaliya village in Bihar rescued some and returned them to Nepal. Recalls one of the villagers, Sanjay Kumar: “The rhino was in the field, and we called the Forest Department which tranquilised it and sent it back. Previously, if we saw wild animals in our villages, we would try to shoo it away, injure it, or even kill it.”Since Nepal committed to doubling its tiger numbers, it began habitat management, protection, and community engagement, many of which have to be implemented side by side with India. Along the border in Chitwan and Parsa alongside India’s Valmiki Tiger Reserve in India, there are Nepal Army guard posts every 5-10 kilometers to stop cross-border poaching. All three sanctuaries have worked together to improve grasslands to attract prey for the growing number of tigers.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-tigers-now-number-235/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal tigers now number 235</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-many-tigers-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">How many tigers in Nepal?</a>, Kunda DixitWhere forests have depleted along the Nepal India border, local communities have helped rehabilitate many forest corridors.  Shikaribas corridor in Parsa and Khata corridor in Bardia have been extremely important in facilitating the movement of animal and growing their numbers. “Animals need not just food, but also open space for movement, and sheltered space for cover,” explains Bharat Gotame of WWF Nepal. “Tigers can travel 300 km over two days in serach of prey, and elephants have migratory routes. So, their habitat should not be fragmented.”But the impact of such fragmentation is already visible in Nepal, where the East-West Highway cuts through the Banke and Bardia National Parks and Shuklaphanta Wildlife Reserve. Last year alone, Bardia National Park lost over 60 wild animals to road kill, most of them deer. The new feeder roads that run parallel to the Indian border dissects the Chitwan-Parsa-Valmiki Complex.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171140/636935219c7e80680e03e038jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">“We need Smart Green Infrastructure with under and overpasses so that increasing connectivity does not endanger wildlife,” says Warden Ashok Bhandari at Bardia National Park.Haribhadra Acharya at Parsa National Park agrees, adding that since tigers are at the top of the food chain, more tigers means a healthier eco-system. “A healthy population of tigers means that there is also a healthy population of deer and other prey, and the variety of plants that these herbivores feed on,” Acharya explains.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/sun-striped-shadows/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sun striped shadows</a>, Lisa Choegyal <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/clouded-future-for-the-clouded-leopard/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Clouded future for the Clouded Leopard</a>, Yadav GhimireyThe success of trans-boundary conservation and the increase in wildlife has brought another, more immediate threat to the very communities that protect them. Human-wildlife conflict has increased as wild elephants, wild boar and monkeys regularly raid farms. Leopards and tigers kill livestock and even humans. Parsa National Park has attempted to solve this problem by relocating two villages that were inside the park. However, several villages that line the Indian border and are sandwiched between forests of India and Nepal, are threatened by wildlife.One of them is Kanchhi Lama of Subarnapur at the edge of the Parsa National Park, who has fortified her goat shed with metal nets to protect animals from leopards. But she adds: “We hear leopards growling at night, and we are scared to go out.”In the west, the Khata Corridor provides the only link between Bardia National Park and India’s Katarniyaghat Wildlife Reserve, and several villages have regular encounters with tigers and elephants. Bhagraiya has 70 households and is surrounded by forests on three sides, and some villagers say it is now getting too dangerous to live there, and would like to be relocated.Laxmi Chand of Bhagraiya village survived an encounter with a leopard in her goat-shed recently, and says: “We have stopped planting crops in our fields near the forest. What is the point? Wild animals will destroy it all.”Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2018/02/07/no-tiger-no-mountain/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">No tiger, no mountain</a>, Kunda Dixit <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/Tigerman-tiger,930" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tigerman</a>, Lisa Choegyal

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Nature without borders

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/636934c19c7e80680e03e014jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="1067"/><figcaption>Kunda Dixit</figcaption></figure>Across the world, human societies are suffering a growing nature deficit. The march of consumerism and economic globalisation has come at an enormous cost to the local and global environment. Much of the change is irreversible on a civilisational timescale: rivers destroyed by dams, landscapes mutilated, a cascade of extinctions and climate collapse.Nature is valueless, it cannot have a price tag. Our culture and religion regards nature as sacred. Nature matters to us because of its emotional value, and the health benefits of being amidst it cannot be measured in dollars and cents.But modern economics puts a monetary value to nature. It can be bought and sold without factoring in its intrinsic value. We are not required to calculate the cost of its destruction when evaluating its worth. An Environmental Impact Assessment of a project tries to calculate the impact to nature of infrastructure or development projects. There are attempts to post a cash value to ‘natural capital’ and ‘ecosystem services’, but these are narrow attempts to measure something immeasurable and priceless.The crisis of the anthropocene is rooted in governments, businesses and sections of the public regarding nature as free and limitless. This is why native forests have been logged until there is nothing left, smoke and emissions are pumped into the air and filled with toxins, river beds are mined, and the earth is warming because we are burning all this fossil carbon.This issue of Nepali Times carries a Special Package on nature conservation in the Tarai national parks. The results of the tiger census this year showed the encouraging result that Nepal was the first country to attain the target of doubling its tiger population four years ahead of schedule. The number of tigers has jumped from 200 four years ago to 235, with most of the increase in Bardia National Park.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=17191&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">It's a jungle out there</a>, Kunda Dixit<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=17216&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nature without borders</a>, Sewa BhattaraiTigers had nearly disappeared in Bardia after the Nepal Army was pulled out of anti-poaching duty during the conflict. But numbers there have soared from 18 ten years ago to 87 today. This is a phenomenal achievement.The reason tigers are important is because they are at the top of the food chain and protecting them protects everything else in the ecosystem. But as our stories on page 14-15 indicate, predator-prey imbalance can throw nature off kilter.The problem in Bardia is that while the tiger population has increased, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-many-tigers-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">there has been a serious decline in prey density</a> and this presents a danger to the new tigers. Predators then venture outside the park to attack livestock, thus weakening the villagers’ support for nature conservation.Nepal’s tiger range spans the open border with India, which means wildlife moves freely back and forth. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-tigers-now-number-235/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The resurgence of tiger numbers in nature reserves</a> on both sides of the border have increased the problem of human-wildlife conflict as well as attracted cross border poachers.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/crying-wolf/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Crying wolf</a>, Ryan Davy<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17514#.W_-2ANszbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's year of the leopard</a>, Shahani SinghThe success of tiger conservation was achieved through India-Nepal cooperation, and the new challenges must also be addressed jointly. Grass palatable to deer species are not so common because of the water table going down because of the flow of the Karnali River being diverted by boulder mining upstream. This has benefited trees, but not grass.Climate change has also made monsoon rains erratic. Large herbivores used to trample on the tall grass and allow deer to get to the tender shoots underneath, but Bardia’s once thriving populations of arna, gaur and nilgai have disappeared. Tiger numbers can be increased further if there is enough of the right type of grass.Tigers need prey, prey need grasslands, grass needs moisture, but humans have tampered with the water. The web of life links everything in an ecosystem together, and we need to understand this for nature conservation.Nature has intrinsic value, even though governments may try to give it economic value. For Nepal, nature must be valued also because biodiversity represents our national identity and our sense of self-worth. Nature should not just be protected in national parks. Our urban deserts need to be rewilded as well.Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Preying%20on%20the%20predator,387" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Preying on the predator</a>, Priya Joshi<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17515#.W_-2WNszbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Once there was a leopard</a>, Nirmal Ghosh<h2>10 years ago this week</h2>Nepali Times issue #426 of 21-28 November 2008 carried a column by Debi Sunar, the mother of Maina Sunar, 14, who was raped and killed at the Panchkhal barracks of the Royal Nepal Army. She lamented that neither the Army nor the Maoists were prepared to tell her the truth. Her quest for justice for Maina remains unfulfilled to this day. Excerpt:‘I had thought that I would get justice when the Maoists came to power. But now I see that they are too busy with their own vested interests. No Maoist leader or cadre has ever spoken to me after they got into government. I don’t understand how they could just forget about the victims of the conflict so soon.Not just the Maoists, many human rights activists and journalists have also taken advantage of my tragedy. They take hours and hours of footage of me and then they sell my suffering. The army also promised compensation, but I didn’t go to the Kavre district office because my struggle was not for money.I wanted to take the guilty to court to have them tried and then awarded damages.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/426" data-elementor-open-lightbox=""></a><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/636934c49c7e80680e03e015jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="509" height="796">

Naturally Nepal

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

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

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

Water for Life

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

SLAPPing Democracy

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