Shyam Lama had just fallen asleep on the early morning of 28 September when he heard a loud bang outside his shop on the side of the highway in Dhading, 15km from Kathmandu. It had been r<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/60-dead-64-missing-in-nepal-floods">aining incessantly for two days</a>, landslips and fallen trees had blocked the Kathmandu-Mugling highway. Many buses were stranded, and some of them were parked at a bend on the road in Jhyaple Khola, waiting for the debris to be cleared. The bang that Lama heard was another landslide from the mountain above falling near his shop and covering the highway with 4m of mud and stones. Some of the buses were damaged, and injured passengers were running for safety in the darkness and pouring rain. In the light of dawn, they could see the damaged buses heading to Kathmandu from the west. But it was not till later in the day that Lama and some of the other rescuers saw the top of another bus sticking out of the mud.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241008141044_a0b528829a4230da6b7b26102a42f0a061de6c26a4fb1d1e201dabfcfc647519.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241008141044_a0b528829a4230da6b7b26102a42f0a061de6c26a4fb1d1e201dabfcfc647519" data-rendition-name="original" width="5726" height="3817" loading="lazy" alt="jhyaple khola landslides"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI(Photo: suman)</figcaption> </figure>  They dug through the slush to find 11 bodies. But then they spotted the tyre of another vehicle, then a van. Altogether 35 passengers perished that night in the three buses heading to Kathmandu from Chitwan, Butwal and Gorkha.&nbsp; “The buses were all stuck because the highway was blocked, and the landslide fell and buried them with the passengers sleeping inside,” Lama says. “If the debris up the road had been cleared in time, the buses would have been able to continue on to Kathmandu.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-flood-of-tears-on-the-rosi">A flood of tears on the Rosi</a>, Archana Darji Archana Koirala runs a convenience store nearby, and was also awoken by muffled shouts for help almost drowned out by the sound of the rain on the tin roof. “In the darkness, I saw people escaping from two buses, some of them injured and covered in blood,” recalls Koirala. “I gathered up my little girls and ran for my life.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241008141044_ec79cc7198b54bad77c3f03bc1420ea64cb6776eaaec29581209614194b862fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241008141044_ec79cc7198b54bad77c3f03bc1420ea64cb6776eaaec29581209614194b862fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="5680" height="3787" loading="lazy" alt="jhyaple khola landslides"> </figure>  Another shop owner Ajita Tamang, heard the landslide coming down and nearly burying her house. She ran with her mother to the nearby woods. Her shop did not survive. Krishna Tamang heard the sound of a bus windshield shattering, and went outside to check. &nbsp;He saw one of the buses half-buried in debris before it disappeared before his eyes, swallowed up by a fresh wave of mud. Unable to do anything to help, he ran up the mountain to save his own life.&nbsp; Shop owners and residents in Jhyaple Khola say that the landslide was so massive and came down so suddenly that the passengers in the vehicles probably did not even know what hit them. A week later, the mangled mass of the three buses are all that remain on the roadside, and excavators were trying to open the road for the expected heavy Dasain traffic on the arterial highway that connects Kathmandu to western Nepal. A visit to the site shows the mountain above scarred by open red wounds of landslides. The biggest slope failure originates in a local road about 100m above the highway and has brought down debris that was just dumped over the edge by bulldozers. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair">When the record-breaking rain came</a>, the mud turned into paste and raced down the mountain carrying tree trunks and large stones. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241008141044_64f6af7e300ed517f6bd161491a69d85706caed35839cfeee7c87e6671a8fdc3.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241008141044_64f6af7e300ed517f6bd161491a69d85706caed35839cfeee7c87e6671a8fdc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="1346" loading="lazy" alt="jhyaple khola landslides"> <figcaption>The bend on the highway where the landslide, triggered by a sub-standard road up the mountain buried three buses, killing 35 people on the night of 28 September. Other buses also blocked by another landslide further up the road were also damaged. Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA(Photo: Sonia Awale)</figcaption> </figure>  Typically, Dasain is the busiest time of year for businesses along the highway in Jhyaple Khola as people leave Kathmandu by busloads to get home for the festival. “We do not stay here for long anymore, we are already home before the sun sets,” says Krishna Tamang. “We fear another landslide will hit us at any time.” In July, a debris flow <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/100-101-102-hh5uvzf9">swept two intercity buses into the Trisuli River</a> along the Mugling-Narayangad Highway 60km west of here. Of the 62 passengers on the two buses, only three were able to swim to safety. Search and rescue teams recovered 27 passengers from the river in the aftermath of the landslide, but neither the buses nor the rest of the passengers have been found.&nbsp; A committee formed by the government to investigate the Simaltal disaster concluded that a new local road constructed farther up the mountain was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon">mainly responsible for the debris flow</a>. The Jhyaple Khola mudslide was a repeat of the July disaster. Locals in Dhading say that the Department of Roads had just completed the retaining wall, and the debris from the excavation done to construct the road had piled up, which the rain swept down to the highway below.&nbsp; Similar unplanned roads constructed further above in Nagdhunga have also clogged up the culverts, which remain uncleared.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241008141044_d46e7f612ce53b0c3133219a36ab81c5ef8f7494dc002452580c086d70028652.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20241008141044_d46e7f612ce53b0c3133219a36ab81c5ef8f7494dc002452580c086d70028652" data-rendition-name="original" width="2340" height="1560" loading="lazy" alt="jhyaple khola landslides"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI(Photo: Sonia Awale)</figcaption> </figure>  “This disaster occurred because of the locally elected representatives, the Road Department and the contractors,” says local business owner Shyam Kumar Lama. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">You cannot blame it on a natural disaster</a>." “They keep tearing down the retaining walls to build haphazard roads, and replace them with brick walls,” adds Lama. “How is a barely one-foot-thick wall going to stop a landslide?” Geologist Sri Kamal Dwivedi says that the Department of Roads has not heeded the geological risks in excavations for road expansion across the country. “The soil above Jhyaple Khola was loosened by torrential rain, causing a high-speed debris flow onto the highway below,” &nbsp;explains Dwivedi. “Additionally, the possibility of disasters like landslides increases when slopes are cut to make way for road expansion.” Transport expert Kamal Pandey says that disasters like the ones in Simaltal and Jhyaple Khola happen frequently because environmental risks are ignored during investments in road expansion. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers">The revenge of the rivers</a>, Shamshad Ahmad “New roads are dug up like it is some kind of competition,” says Pandey. “But as long as unmanaged excavation continues without plans in place to mitigate landslides, disasters like the one at Jhyaple Khola will continue to happen.” Indeed, this is not the first time a disaster of this scale has struck in Jhyaple Khola. In 2001, a similar debris flow from higher up the hill buried a vehicle on the highway below, killing nine people.&nbsp; Landslides of smaller scales occur in the area every monsoon, but they do not make it to the news. But even as they are used to the frequent landslides, there is now a new kind of fear among residents.&nbsp; “I am overcome with terror every time I look up to the overcast sky,” says Shyam Lama. “We will never be safe in this place as long as the mountains keep falling on top of us.” &nbsp;

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"The mountain fell on top of us"

<ul>
 <li>BREAKING: Seven people were killed and 30 injured when a bus collided with a parked truck on the East-West Highway in Banke at 9pm on Friday night.</li>
 <li>A Beni-bound bus veered off the Prithivi Highway on 23 August and plunged into the Trisuli River, killing eight passengers and injuring many more (pictured above).&nbsp;</li>
 <li>Less than 24 hours later a bus carrying Indian pilgrims from Kathmandu to Janakpur swerved off the road in Bara district, killing seven passengers.</li>
 <li>A week earlier a jeep heading towards Butwal was hit by a rockslide in Palpa. Three people were killed.</li>
 <li>On 3 September, a jeep heading to Mugu from Jumla fell off the road, and rolled 300m down the steep mountainside. The driver and a passenger were killed.&nbsp;</li>
</ul>
These deadly accidents all took place within a fortnight across Nepal, and do not include pedestrians killed by vehicles. They have become so frequent that the mishaps do not even make headlines anymore.&nbsp;
Road Traffic Accidents (RTAs) <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nation-nepal-highways,622">take more lives annually in Nepal </a>than floods, landslides, plane crashes, and other accidents and natural disasters combined.
A total of 2,320 people lost their lives in road traffic accidents between April 2022 and April 2023, while 28,856 people were injured, many of them impaired for life. &nbsp;
In that same time frame, floods killed 19 people and injured 17, while landslides took the lives of 96 people and injured 88. There were two aircraft accidents in that period that killed 79 passengers and crew. &nbsp;
Most RTA are concentrated in the Kathmandu Valley and the Tarai, where urbanisation and better quality roads and expressways have led to over-speeding and reckless driving. But in accidents in the rural mountains it is usually the poor condition of the roads that is the main factor. &nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/dying-to-travel">Dying to travel</a>, Editorial
Nepal’s topography and weather make it difficult to build and maintain roads. Highways and rural roads wrap around mountains, traverse cliffs, follow narrow river gorges. Entire sections of Nepal’s arterial highways are in a permanent state of disrepair during the monsoon, like the landslide-prone Mugling-Narayanghat Highway.&nbsp;
Poor highway engineering is a major factor in deadly accidents, says transport expert Chandra B Shrestha, now a consultant with the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank. The rockslide in Palpa, he notes, was caused by an inability to properly stabilise the slope.
“Most accidents happen when the curves on the road and the speed of vehicles do not match,” adds Shrestha. “We also have a lot of blind spots along our highways which makes driving difficult.” &nbsp;
Nepal’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-women-connecting-nepal">motorable roads</a> are classified into Strategic Road Networks, which include major highways under the purview of the Department of Roads, and Local Road Networks which are built and maintained by local governments.&nbsp;
While the main highways have to follow engineering parameters to be approved for construction, local roads are built without adequate engineering, making them more dangerous.&nbsp;
“Local governments have taken charge of the construction of rural roads without fulfilling any of the required technical criteria,” says transport expert Madhu Sudan Acharya, adding that they are built without an understanding of road geometry or slope geology.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-dasain-on-nepal-s-highways">Deadly Dasain on Nepal’s highways</a>, Nepali Times
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Deaths on the roads and injuries between 16 July 2021-17 July 2023" aria-label="Multiple Donuts" id="datawrapper-chart-xI5Rd" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/xI5Rd/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border: none;" width="600" height="339" data-external="1"></iframe></div>
Shrestha agrees that rural road networks are not only <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/from-nowhere-to-nowhere">sub-engineered</a>, but are being dug across fragile slopes by excavators at breakneck speed on a massive scale without oversight. “Such roads have become death traps,” he warns.
Political interference and collusion between local contractors and their governments (in many cases the same person) to haphazardly build roads near private property has not helped matters.
Some major highways face similar problems. The Nepal Road Standard 2013 stipulates that highways, feeder roads, and district roads must have a Total Right of Way of 50m, 30m, and 20m respectively, but that rule has not been followed. &nbsp;
As land value increases, encroachment along Prithivi, Siddhartha and Arniko Highways by buildings is rampant and that increases the chances of human-vehicle collisions.
“Nepal’s highway network does not have Right of Way, and the concept is not even discussed during the construction of projects,” says Shrestha. “There should be extensive study into the road and land-use interface, and guidelines must be followed.”
Yet, driver negligence and poor vehicle maintenance play a bigger role in road accidents than climate, weather, or the way Nepal’s highways are constructed. Reckless driving on poorly built roads then turn things deadly.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-deadly-roads-take-their-toll">Nepal’s deadly roads take their toll</a>, Gopal Gartaula
Acharya is part of a seven-member task force created by the Ministry of Physical Infrastructure and Transport earlier this year to study vehicular pollution, safety and accident reduction.
He says, “Nepal’s highways would be much safer if drivers were properly trained or if vehicles were better maintained. But they have little understanding of highway traffic rules, reading signage or basic mechanical knowledge.”&nbsp;
The Land Transportation agency has also been lax in licensing and training drivers, especially those who seek to operate trucks, buses and long-haul four-wheelers. Fines for speeding and other traffic infractions, especially for two-wheelers, have not brought down the fatality rate. Motorcycles cause most of the road accidents in Kathmandu Valley and the Tarai.&nbsp;
In a recent example in Kathmandu, two people died and several were injured when a speeding bus collided with a Bolero as it swerved to avoid a motorbike coming from the opposite direction.&nbsp;
“Nepal’s existing road safety practices and protocols make it pretty clear that transport management authority is unable to govern properly, and needs massive overhaul,” Shrestha explains.&nbsp;
Acharya adds: “The result is that the wrong people are behind the wheel.” &nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/maps-showing-increase-in-road-accident-fatality-rates">6 years of road traffic accidents</a>, Sunir Pandey
<div class="embed-block"> <iframe title="Road accident deaths and injuries between 16 July 2021-17July 2023" aria-label="Map" id="datawrapper-chart-E9O4w" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/E9O4w/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border: none;" width="600" height="441" data-external="1"></iframe></div>
<h2>Treating trauma</h2>
A motorcycle was hit by a car along the East-West Highway one recent evening, and the driver was writhing on the road, bleeding profusely.&nbsp;
Bystanders gathered, taking videos of the injured man with their mobiles to post on TikTok. No one helped for fear of being involved. Police took an hour to arrive. The driver bled to death while being taken to hospital.
In a similar case, a motorcyclist was hit by a car on his way to work and he felt pain in his arms, legs, and neck but it did not seem too severe. Bystanders gathered and carried him to hospital on their back.&nbsp;
Well-meaning as they were, they were not trained in handling the injured. The patient was eventually examined by Raju Dhakal of the Spinal Injury Rehabilitation Centre in Sanga, but the rescue attempt itself worsened the trauma and he will now suffer life-long physical complications.&nbsp;
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-an-emergency-nepal-needs-to-improve-trauma-care">Trauma care</a> is inaccessible to a larger number of Nepalis as the road network expands across the country. Specialised surgery and emergency treatment are centralised in Kathmandu or main cities, and the cost of rescue, ambulance, airlifting and treatment are too costly for most.
But even at hospitals, there is a lack of trained rescue and emergency first responders, which means untrained bystanders step in and inadvertently make injuries worse.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-s-other-pandemic-road-fatalities">Nepal’s other pandemic: road fatalities</a>, Anita Bhetwal
“There is a weakness in the life-saving mechanism that brings patients from accident sites to hospitals, and there are not many trained emergency responders,” says Dhakal. “Even not-critical injuries become life-threatening because police and rescuers do not reach accident sites on time.”&nbsp;
Traffic authority Sitaram Hachhethu agrees that the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18715"> role of traffic police and police personnel</a> in case of road accidents on highways is limited to reaching the site which itself takes time due to distance and road conditions, adding to the number of casualties.&nbsp;
Moreover, the police do not even have proper equipment to rescue those who have been in accidents, such as metal and seat cutters. Says Hachhethu: “We use whatever we have to get them out, all the while not knowing the protocol of rescuing an injured person.”
He adds: “90% of RTA deaths would be prevented if we had proper emergency and first response services and trained medical professionals on standby. Until then traffic police, police and rescue personnel need to be trained to provide first aid and basic emergency medical care.”
The state needs to identify which hospitals are primary, secondary, or tertiary to help doctors to direct trauma patients to relevant hospitals. That way, first responders can triage so that the resources of tertiary hospitals can be directed towards the critical patients. Additionally, basic first aid and emergency training can also be provided at the local levels so that people seeking to help accident victims have a basic knowledge of what to do and what not to do.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/lack-of-trauma-centres-along-nepal’s-highways-worsened-fatality-rate,1383">Highways of death</a>, Sunir Pandey
A 2023 study by the Emergency Department of the College of Medical Sciences and Teaching Hospital over a six-month period from January to June 2022 revealed that 9.58% of the 7,654 patients had been admitted to the emergency unit for Road Traffic Accidents, and 65% of the cases had occurred along highways.
The study in the Journal of the Nepal Medical Association found that 38% of total patients admitted for RTA had soft tissue injuries, while 31% had suffered head injuries.
The situation is dire in the remoter parts of Nepal where medical facilities are few and far between, and the roads are all sub-standard. At <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-rural-lifeline">Achham’s Bayalpata Hospital</a>, orthopaedic surgeon Mandeep Pathak has seen an increase in mass casualties from bus and tractor accidents.
“Hospitals along highways need trauma centres and ICUs so serious patients do not need to be referred to the city,” Pathak says, adding that many do not survive the long bumpy journeys in poorly equipped ambulances. &nbsp;
People are also not aware that the healing process does not end after hospital treatment. Rehabilitation is just as crucial to ensuring there are no long-term complications.&nbsp;
Says Dhakal: “Deaths, critical injuries and long-term disabilities can be prevented provided emergency services and trained professionals reach accident sites on time, identify what level of care victims require, and there is rehabilitation after hospital treatment.” &nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-road-kill,621">Road kill</a>, Duncan Maru

Shristi Karki

Highway accidents are no accident in Nepal

<figure><img width="1419" height="630" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3df9c7e80680e09667ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>FISHING OUT: Armymen try to pull out the bus that fell into the Madi River in Tanahu in 2013. Photo: PAWAN PAUDEL</figcaption></figure>At 5AM on 12 December 2019, residents of Khadichaur of Sindhupalchok district woke up to a loud crash. A bus had careened off a hairpin bend and plunged 500m down the mountain, killing 17 and wounding 18 passengers.They were pilgrims on the way back from the Kalinchok shrine. A little over a year later, the tragedy has become part of the deadly statistics of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/how-covid-19-saves-lives-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s highway accidents</a> in which an average of seven people die every day.“There was a pile of bodies, some with their limbs severed. I had never before seen such a horrendous sight,” recalls Mithu Mijar. “All we could do was help lift the bodies and place them in ambulances.”Tara Bahadur Karki is still traumatised by the sight, and cannot walk past the site without recalling that fateful day: “The entire slope was covered with bodies and there were more under the bus. After a while, we lost count, as we kept pulling them out of the wreckage.”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqRS60ctCj4 <figure><img width="1500" height="844" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3e29c7e80680e09667bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Most of the accidents are preventable, and the causes are mainly poor road condition and reckless driving. The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/its-an-emergency-nepal-needs-to-improve-trauma-care/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">pandemic of highway accidents</a> kills as many Nepalis every year as all the natural disasters combined. In fact they are so common that most Nepalis are desensitised by the numbers. From July 2014-July 2019, there were a total of 54,000 road accidents in Nepal resulting in 12,000 deaths of people mostly in the age group 15-40 years. This number <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/how-covid-19-saves-lives-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">went down sharply during the Covid-19 lockdown</a>. Highway fatalities declined by half to less than 700 in March-August 2020, compared to the same period the previous year. By the Dasain-Tihar festival in November 2020, with restrictions removed, the number of deaths on the roads again spiked to 242 after falling to 52 in May. <figure><img width="1263" height="752" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3e49c7e80680e09667cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“In developing country like ours we have fewer accidents but more casualties because of our mass transport. But we often forget about those wounded, they are sentenced to a life of economic hardships and trauma beyond our imaginations,” says former Superintendent of Police Jagat Man Shrestha.On average, 40 people are injured on roads across the country each day.In 2019, there were nearly 13,000 highway and road accidents in which 2,736 people lost their lives and 10,731 were seriously injured. Those who survive often have a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/injured-use-internet-to-reach-physiotherapists/?preview_nonce=aefd82ecbe" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">traumatic brain and spinal cord injuries</a>, requiring long-term or life-long rehabilitative care. <figure><img width="1636" height="942" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3e79c7e80680e09667djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Journalist Gajendra Budathoki was on his way home one rainy night when the blinding headlight of an oncoming bus from the wrong side at Bhadrakali turn caused his motorcyle to skid off the road. A spinal cord injury has paralysed him from the waist down. “I would never go faster than 50km/hour and my friends used to poke fun at me for being slower than a bicycle but now I’m forced to leave the rest of my life bound on a wheelchair,” he laments.According to the WHO Global Status on Road Safety 2018, only 8 in 100,000 people die of highway and road accidents in developed countries, but the number soars to 27.5 in low-income nations like Nepal.A Ministry of Physical Infrastructure and Transport study has found that 76% of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-other-global-pandemic-road-fatalities/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">highway accidents</a> are caused by drivers who do not follow traffic rules, or are speeding.“Tipper truck drivers get Rs1,000 per trip so they try to make as many roundtrips as possible. I have seen them make five per night, driving even as they doze off at the wheels. If they don’t kill people, who will?” asks the chief of Lalitpur Metropolitan Police Sitaram Hachhethu.Traffic police have now deployed speed guns to check speeding at the accident-prone Satdobato-Gwarko road. They penalise up to 100 commuters a day, many of them in motorcycles that are going at 90km/hour in the road with a speed limit of 50km/hour.  Road maintenance or lack thereof is another major cause of traffic accidents. Local governments need to wait for the budget to maintain road safety while the Department of Roads is unable to add crash barriers on highways.“Our roads are narrow, bad, and frankly not the kind we should have built,” accepts Arjun Thapa, head of the Department. “Priority on road construction without proper infrastructure planning is to blame.”Roads are synonymous with development in Nepal. Every election, politicians promise highways to boost their vote banks. There are <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/accident-prone-Mugling-Narayangadi-highway,3828" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">excavators clawing away at the mountains</a> all over the country. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3ea9c7e80680e09667ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Says road safety analyst Kamal Panday: “Well-constructed roads prevent accidents, but we have made ours ignoring technical and engineering aspects because new roads bring in votes, and maintenance doesn’t.”All automobiles are subjected to mechanical inspection tests every six months, those that fail are not allowed on the streets. But testing centres across the country are not functional as vehicles are certified based on manual (visual) inspection alone.The design of vehicles can also factor in crucial life and death situations. For example, tipper truck drivers have blind spots on the sides which prevent them from seeing motorcyclists. Moreover, the bumpers of these heavy load vehicles is 1.5m above the ground making them lethal in a collision. Many countries including China, Brazil and Japan have now added 360degree cameras for tipper drivers.“Our tippers are not fit for highway and city traffic, their only purpose is to carry raw material from mines to construction site,” says Namraj Ghimire of the Department of Transport Management. <figure><img width="1536" height="850" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3ed9c7e80680e09667fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>An important aspect when it comes to traumatic road traffic accidents is the transportation of the wounded to the hospitals without further aggravating their condition. “We have seen many cases of careless handling leading to unnecessary damage to the spine resulting into deaths,” says Raju Dhakal of the Spinal Injury Rehabilitation Centre in Sangha.The traffic police and the Department of Transport Management are responsible for implementing rules and regulations. The Department of Roads has to build safe infrastructure. But when asked, they all pass the blame to each other. Traffic police complain that they do not have enough human resources. The Department of Roads states that most roads in Nepal are now under the purview of local governments. The Transport Service Department simply does not bother about vehicular inspections. <figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3f09c7e80680e096680jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It is therefore up to the public to make their voice heard, and make government agencies feel more responsible, says activist Anandaraj Joshi, who used to be a truck driver in Western Nepal. “Civil society, media and investigators must continue to pursue this issue, start a discourse to wake up the uncaring state and together eradicate this calamity from its roots,” Joshi says.There is a consensus among experts that the implementation of road engineering suited to the geography of the place and mechanical knowledge among drivers is crucial to reducing road accidents. Similarly, traffic education goes a long way in preventing road fatalities and must start at homes and schools.Says former SP Jagat Man Shrestha: “Traffic enforcement gives us a quick result but it will be temporary. To prevent as many road accidents as possible, we must revamp our education system and upgrade engineering.”

Anita Bhetwal

Nepal’s other pandemic: road fatalities

“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.