<h4>As Nepal reaches the goal of sanitation for all, the next health challenge is to make latrines hygienic</h4>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeOw-x3Sp_E&amp;t=3sTill recently, across many parts of Nepal, where people defecated was a matter of life or death.Sidewalks and trails strewn with human excrement spread disease and contaminated drinking water. The main killer of children in Nepal used to be diarrhoeal dehydration.But in the past decade, the rapid spread of household latrines in Nepal is an internationally recognised success story. And it has saved the lives of many thousands of children who would otherwise have fallen victims to water-borne diseases like diarrhoea, typhoid and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/%20jajarkot-open-defecation-free,2023" target="_blank" rel="noopener">cholera</a>.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/getting-our-shit-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Getting our shit together</a>, EditorialThere is an inverse correlation between the increase in the proportion of households with toilets and the decrease in child mortality. In 1980 only 2% of homes had toilets, that figure has jumped to 97% today. In the same period, Nepal’s under-five child mortality dived from 209 per 1,000 live births to below 35 today.“The achievement in health outcomes of household toilets, especially in reducing diarrhoea incidence in the last five years, has been dramatic,” said Siddhi Shrestha of UNICEF.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b29c7e80680e033341jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="400" height="655"/>However, experts say just declaring a district open defection free does not mean it is -- access to water supply plays a critical role. In addition, the toilets need to be cleaned regularly to keep them hygienic. An evaluation found many latrines of substandard construction, not child or girl-friendly, many were located next to water sources, or were contaminating ground water. Open pits were buzzing with flies, which spread disease.Toilets in many schools and households were so dirty many students and villagers preferred to go out into the open.“Having a toilet in every household and declaring a district open defecation free is a major achievement. But having a toilet is different from using a toilet,” explained UN-HABITAT’s Bhushan Tuladhar.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/where-to-take-a-dump/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Where to take a dump?</a>, Bhushan TuladharBut as Nepal inches closer to the 100% household toilet target, another danger has already manifested itself: management of excreta that is overflowing out of pit latrines and septic tanks. There are only a handful of functioning faecal sludge treatment plants, even though emptying the sewage has become a booming business.“It is now time to think beyond the toilets,” said Bipin Dangol of Environment and Public Health Organisation (ENPHO). “Unless waste water and human excreta are safely disposed, we will continue to face health risks. The next step is to spread awareness about proper disposal of waste.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nature-calls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nature calls</a>, Sonia Awale<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b49c7e80680e033342jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="442">Toilets are now being thought of as part of a value chain system, starting from user interface, containment and transportation of the waste, followed by its treatment, disposal and safe reuse.The current toilet technology that involves flush tanks using drinking water is resource intensive, especially in Nepal’s cities which suffer a chronic water shortage. Engineers worldwide are experimenting with the next generation of toilet designs that allow excreta to be burnt and converted into valuable energy source. They also want the new prototypes to be affordable, work off-grid so that the poorest communities have access to safe sanitation solutions (read story below).Sanitation expert Doulaye Kone of the the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation was in Kathmandu recently for a meeting to approve a new standard ISO 30500 that set requirements for toilets of the future. They have to meet many criteria: destroy waste and kill pathogens, not use water or electricity, generate energy and water, cost less than Rs5 per use, and be easy to install and maintain.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vm_K5NvFpok“A new toilet that meets these standards will be a super vaccine,” he told Nepali Times in an interview. “A toilet is a health product so that people won’t have to suffer or die due to the lack of safe sanitation anymore.”A working model for a future breakthrough in Nepal's sanitation movement could be a new facility at an orphanage in Lubhu, which treats household effluent, turning it into methane gas, fertiliser and water for the kitchen and vegetable garden.Sanitation engineer Reetu Rajbhandari (pictured below at the Lubhu treatment plant) at ENPHO says the system is still expensive, and there are challenges of location.But she added: “This is an ideal solution for waste collection, disposal, treatment and recycling when everyone has a toilet. Future research needs to go into making it more affordable.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b69c7e80680e033343jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="789"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Waste not, want not</h2>Nepal solved one problem, and created another. After a successful campaign against open defecation, 97% of households in Nepal now have latrines. But what to do with the waste that has accumulated in the pits and sewage?To solve the growing problem, the Ministry of Water Supply and Sanitation passed the Faecal Sludge Management (FSM) framework for the collection, transport, treatment and disposal of waste in urban areas. For Kathmandu Valley, this will go hand-in-hand with the government’s plan to free the Bagmati of sewage by 2020.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2b99c7e80680e033344jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="802"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A first-of-its-kind project at an orphanage in Lubhu (pictured above) outside Lalitpur gives a glimpse of how it would work. Septic tank waste is collected from households that pay for the service, transported to the treatment plant to be turned into fertiliser, methane gas and water.The plant (right) was originally set up to treat waste at shelters after the 2015 earthquake by the German organisation BORDA, Environment and Public Health Organisation (ENPHO), and Saligram Bal Griha. A similar faecal sludge treatment plant has been built in Bardia.The system treats six cubic metres of sewage per week, with separate solid and liquid units. It takes three days for the sludge to be treated and the water reused for irrigation. The rest flows into a digester to generate biogas, and the effluent takes 12 days to dry into odourless fertiliser.Vegetables thrive in the nutrient-rich waste, and are enough to feed all 42 children and staff in the orphanage. Extra greens are sold in the market.“We didn’t have sufficient water to farm in the past, now we can grow our own food, and cook in gas from treated human waste,” says caretaker Surya Prasad Ghimire. With a price tag of Rs7 million, the only downside for now is the cost, but that is because it is a prototype.When biogas first spread in Nepal 40 years ago, users were squeamish about allowing latrine waste to flow into the digester along with cowdung. By now there are 400,000 household biogas plants in Nepal, and nearly a third of them process both animal and human waste. In addition, 100 Police stations, Army bases and jails use human waste to generate gas for their kitchens.Explains Prakash Aryal of the Alternative Energy Promotion Centre (AEPC): “There used to be a taboo about linking toilets with biogas, but it is now easier to convince people due to the rise in awareness.”<h2>Here come the smart toilets</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2bc9c7e80680e033345jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="400"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the last 200 years, humans have sent rockets to Jupiter, the Internet has transformed communication, the Human Genome Project has mapped the chromosomes. Yet in that time, toilets have remained the same.Social taboos about defecation have stymied toilet technology from evolving beyond the ceramic water closet that allowed loos to be located inside homes. Aside from some automation and digital spray control, toilet technology has remained unchanged for two centuries.Finally in 2011, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation launched the Reinvent the Toilet Challenge to provide safe and affordable sanitation solutions to 2.5 billion people worldwide who don’t have access to toilets. The idea was to stop open defecation with a cheap alternative that would also prevent the spread of infections.The Foundation’s specification was to re-invent the toilet that would destroy the pathogens in human waste, convert it into energy, and not need to be connected to the sewage, water, or electricity grids. And, oh yes, it should also cost less than $0.5 cents per user per day and be suitable for urban poor and rural settings.Many companies have joined the competition with ideas like: a solar-powered toilet that generates hydrogen and electricity, sanitation systems that convert human waste into biological charcoal, fuel gas, minerals and clean water. The challenge has gained momentum in India and China where engineers are coming up with innovative new technologies.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2be9c7e80680e033346jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="429"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Last week, 120 experts from 33 countries were in Kathmandu (pictured above) to brainstorm on sustainable non-sewered sanitation systems, and approved a new standard ISO 30500 that set the requirement for toilets for the Third World that are safe, cheap and don’t need water.“Toilets today do not work. We need a system that kills pathogens, runs off the grid, and is affordable. A structure that can operate without existing infrastructure and reach marginalised communities,” explained Doulaye Kone (pictured below), sanitation expert at the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.The Challenge is literally a challenge. What engineers have come up with so far are contraptions ranging from what look like mini nuclear reactors to glorified pit latrines.Kone says what the Foundation is looking for are appliances that will outwardly appear no different from existing toilets, but will be standalone structures with no sewers, and can convert waste into clean water and energy. Cost, maintenance and social acceptance will be the main hurdles to be overcome.Manufacturers are ready to bring some of the new inventions into the market, but the ones so far are still expensive. Kone argues that while the prototypes may be expensive and will target urban dwellers, mass production of a viable business model will eventually take it to the poorest.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2c19c7e80680e033347jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="578"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“This is innovative technology that allows for on-site treatment and produces minimum waste, while producing pathogen free water,” says Bipin Dangol of Environment and Public Health Organisation (ENPHO). “Its capital investment might be large, but we have a good financial mechanism and social marketing. We just need to convince people that this system will be good for the health of their families.”

Sonia Awale

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Toilet trained

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111148/6368e2a39c7e80680e03333cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>Bikram Rai</figcaption></figure>At personal, family, community or national levels, we Nepalis are generally not given to maintaining high hygienic standards. Waste management is not our forté. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/recycle-reuse-reduce-garbage-kathmandu,1279" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Littering is a national trait</a>, we are genetically programmed to dump garbage at our own doorstep, we let household sewage flow into the drainage system which empties into the river we worship.Jesuit missionaries who were the first European travellers to pass through the Nepal Valley en route from Tibet to India in the 17th century described the towns here as the dirtiest they had seen in their journey. In those days, that was saying something.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/toilet-trained/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Toilet trained</a>, Sonia AwaleGranted, Kathmandu eradicated open defecation in the streets within one generation. But other than that, we have regressed in every other respect of urban management, acquiring an international reputation for polluting our rivers, poisoning the air, and tolerating squalour.Google <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/cleaning-up-everest,1408" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mt Everest</a>, and the top news items will be about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/everest-garbage-caravan" target="_blank" rel="noopener">expedition garbage</a>. Search <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/incompetence-of-kathmandu-airport-magnified-during-shutdown,2086" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu Airport</a> and this pops up: fetid toilets and a terminal building redolent with the odour of urine. Kathmandu is no longer known as a valley with historic temple towns, but a dust bowl with garbage landfills along a reeking river, and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Sick-city,108" target="_blank" rel="noopener">air so toxic it is unbreathable</a>.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nature-calls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nature calls</a>, Sonia AwaleWe spoke to anthropologists, urban planners, ecologists and governance experts to get to the bottom of this chronic failure to pick up after ourselves. They said the problem is not confined to Nepal: disregard for waste management pervades the subcontinent from Peshawar to Chittagong.Flush toilets were invented during the Indus Valley civilisation, but today Pakistan’s rivers are sewers. Mass defecation by the tracks greets passengers on early-morning train rides in northern India. Plastic landfills are new topographical features on Dhaka’s outskirts.Are there cultural reasons that span religions, ethnicities and nationalities for this regional inability to recognise and handle waste? Is it the inherent fatalism in our societies? Does it have a gender angle in our patriarchies? Are individualism, greed and selfishness factors? Are we hardwired to wallow in our own waste?Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/where-to-take-a-dump/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Where to take a dump?</a>, Bhushan TuladharFinding an excuse in cultural determinism for unhygienic behaviour is a cop-out. The reasons lie instead in the failure of education, collapse of governance, lack of accountability, in corruption and impunity. It is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-plastic-wars,612" target="_blank" rel="noopener">filthy politics</a> that force people to live in filth. Dirty streets are a metaphor for dirty politics.We are confronted with evidence of chronic state failure everywhere as we move around Nepal: the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-ecology-of-worship-bagmati,3380" target="_blank" rel="noopener">putrid Bagmati</a>, government hospitals which spread infections instead of curing them, vehicle emissions that have made Kathmandu so toxic the daily pollution average is five times higher than the WHO threshold.Nepal’s holiest temples are the dirtiest parts of its towns. Cremation sites, instead of evoking transcendence and spiritualism, feel like purgatory. Devotees throng festivals in uplifting mass displays of faith, but once the gods have been appeased, they go home leaving mountains of trash and the gory remains of sacrifices.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/The-sewage-canal,1161" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Cleaning up the Bagmati </a>every Saturday is a valiant gesture, but alas, it is doomed because it does not address the structural root of the solid waste problem. Two weeks ago this newspaper printed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/industrial-scale-litter/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">an investigation into why plastic bag bans have been sabotage</a>d by successive governments: the manufacturers enjoy political protection.Plastic bottles are the new global scourge. We reported that Langtang Valley alone has 5 million discarded plastic water bottles, used once and thrown away. Yet, by placing a value on the bottles, they are now <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/virtuous-cycle/." target="_blank" rel="noopener">being collected for recycling</a>. To reduce single-use plastic trash, Nepal has to upscale such upcycling.This week, the world marks World Environment Day with the theme #BeatPlasticPollution. There is growing global awareness about ocean plastic that is killing marine life and contaminating seafood.Also in this issue we look at the government’s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/%20jajarkot-open-defecation-free,2023" target="_blank" rel="noopener">open-defecation free campaign</a> which, although it has raised awareness and reduced child mortality, has concentrated on building latrines but not on sludge disposal and ensuring water supply. There is a danger they will spread the infections they were supposed to control.A civilisation is judged by the way it manages and disposes of its waste. Ministers sweeping streets for tv cameras, or donning masks to test vehicle exhausts are just for show. The government has to go far beyond tokenism with policy reform and its implementation.Smart cities are those which have learnt to generate energy, produce fertiliser and recycle raw materials from their waste. To be smart, Nepal’s municipalities do not have to reinvent the wheel. The solutions are all there. Just Google it.

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Getting our shit together

“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

It took the September GenZ firestorm and public anger against non-performing actors for a 35-year-old structural engineer and rapper Balendra (Balen) Shah to oust Nepal’s four-time prime minister and former revolutionary.
The UML’s KP Oli has been trounced by 50,000 votes in his home turf, an area where he has won many elections in his 55-year political career. It is the same story across Nepal, where established politicians are being rejected by voters.
A 'Balen Wave' has swept the country, dyeing it in the RSP’s Blue party colour. But the UML and NC particularly did this to themselves.&nbsp;
An apology and a retirement after the September protests would have saved Oli some dignity, and given the rebranded UML a tiny bit of hope and perhaps a few more electoral wins.&nbsp;
Maybe he could have been remembered fondly as the funny old guy who made one last fatal political error, but now he will be defined by this defeat. Maintaining control and legitimacy in his own party will be hard too.&nbsp;
Contrary to his past combativeness and blaming nefarious foreign conspiracies, Oli gracefully conceded on Saturday, congratulating 'Balen Babu' &nbsp;and wishing him 'a successful five years'.
Balendra Shah and his RSP knew what they were doing. As of Sunday, it has won 118 and leads in 7 other constituencies, a lot of them with similarly wide margins of victory. RSP candidates have even beaten well regarded candidates like Gagan Thapa of the NC and Kulman Ghising of Ujyalo Nepal.&nbsp;

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Many including this paper questioned the RSP's strategy of choosing popular candidates over competence. But the point of an election is to win it, and there was a short campaign window to put it all together and the RSP pulled it off most successfully.&nbsp;
To be sure, the party should not get too much credit. Its manifesto was broad and bland, and no different than the other older parties.&nbsp;
A big part of the RSP ballots, maybe even most of it, were people voting against the old parties rather than for it. Many seemed to feel that this was coming, and perhaps even hoped for it.
There is also a sense of lingering cynicism. Nepal has had several revolutions and many new political starts and things always seem to end up in the same corrupt hopelessness. There is every possibility that the new RSP government will also go the same way.&nbsp;
The RSP is much bigger than Balendra Shah, although it was his popularity that made this victory possible. Its victory brings with it a sense of hope as all new things do.&nbsp;
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Not all party members who were elected are going to be as accountable or have integrity. Many of them have a chequered past, saw an opportunity in joining the RSP and took the risk.&nbsp;
What changed things were the events of September. Politicians saw firsthand that 'Power to the People' is not some abstract idea. Get too loose to it, forget that you are ruling and not serving, and you get booted out.&nbsp;
The interim Sushila Karki government deserve credit for delivering on its biggest mandate of holding the election in such a short time frame. The expectation at large was that the polls would be delayed or even scuttled.
In fact, a two-thirds RSP majority is a great opportunity to rethink the country’s political culture and institutionalise change. The point of the government in a democracy is to serve the people. Appointing non-political, competent people worked, at least in the short tenure of the interim government.&nbsp;
Adding layers of bureaucracy and committees and party politics along federal, provincial and local levels heaped resistance to the simple goal of making lives easier for the Nepali.&nbsp;
Nepal is getting a reboot, and the next few months will show whether the country is on the right track with its new generation government.

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

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.

I was a new mother trying to protect my young family from Covid in 2020, and that was when I first noticed Jacinda Ardern’s leadership. Our own prime minister was spreading misinformation about the strong immune system of Nepalis and our herbal concoctions being antidotes.&nbsp; Later in 2024, Ardern showed up after the mass shooting at mosques in New Zealand with tears in her eyes, and the strong message: “They are us.” It was refreshing to see such empathetic leadership, especially as political news was dominated by elected authoritarians, while Nepal was held hostage by repeat prime ministers.&nbsp; Ardern’s book A Different Kind of Leadership should be essential reading for all Nepalis with political aspirations, especially the new generation that wants real change. The theme that repeats throughout the book is to be human before becoming a politician.&nbsp; The book is not just about Ardern showing up for her people as one of them, it is also about why she decided to show up the way she did, and what brought her to politics to begin with — resolve, a little bit of luck, and stepping up when she had to.&nbsp; Political ambition is not a bad thing. But stepping up to lead when the situation demands it, and knowing when it is time to leave, is what makes a leader. Ardern was given the opportunity to become her party’s deputy leader at a relatively young age, and her party leader resigned — two events uncommon in Nepali politics. Ardern mentions multiple times not thinking of herself as politician material because she has a thin skin, and she talks equally often of her feelings of being intimidated in political spaces, up until she accepted the position of party leader.&nbsp; But she was accountable at a time when we in Nepal were getting used to non-reactions and non-answers from the loud, confident men who played with power. Somehow, somewhere, not least because of the malestream ideas we have been fed about politics and politicians, we imagine that leadership should look a certain way. Strong, macho, loud, confident or even better, overconfident. We imagine that empathetic leadership is soft, is scared to make people angry, is ineffective.&nbsp; LOOKING AFTER PEOPLE Ardern’s leadership was effective. New Zealand had less Covid fatalities than most developed countries, and it went in and out of lockdown with relative ease. Ardern’s approval ratings were high at a very unstable time in politics globally. A significant portion of the chapters that talk about Ardern’s time in office also delve into her struggles being a working mother. But she does not consider herself a supermom who did it all. She portrays herself as simply a working mom, one with lots of support, and discusses how common it is for parents, especially mothers, to juggle work and family. She comes across as one of us. There is a section in the book where Ardern’s daughter asks her the question she has been dreading, and which many of us working moms also face, “Mummy, why do you have to work so much?” Ardern explains that she has a “very important job” and explains it to her three-and-half-year-old as “looking after people”.&nbsp; I put down the book when I reached that sentence. I want the next prime minister of my country to read this book, and then lead. I want the next prime minister of Nepal to think that he (all the top contenders for the job are men, page 9) is looking after people, making sure no Nepali child is undernourished, that people can make a living without risking their lives, hearing the concerns of citizens and solving them.&nbsp; I want him to lead like a woman, like Sushila Karki has been leading for the last six months, with quiet determination and integrity, and without fanfare. I want him to remember that leadership is just service, and that, like Maya Angelou wrote, ‘Your legacy is what you do every day.’ It is not loud speeches and the making of some imagined, glorified history. Karki was picked to lead us back during the black days of early September when the country was in flames. The very first video of her on 9 September, the day after young people and students had been shot by the government that was meant to protect them shows her angry and emotional, her voice shaking.&nbsp; It was Karki’s actions in those days of fragility that showed us, once again, that the leader we deserve gets emotional on our behalf, but also knows how to do the work. After five years of leading her country through a global pandemic, Ardern realised that she is exhausted, that she does not have enough in her anymore to keep leading New Zealand, and she steps down.&nbsp; Towards the end of the book, Ardern tells readers like herself, sensitive and self-doubting, that if we want to be leaders, we should channel our anxieties and sensitivities to humble ourselves, to read more and seek out advice, and prepare ourselves for the challenges. Nepal’s next prime minister has to have these qualities: humility, teamwork, diligence and accountability. Good intention, ambition, university degrees, professional achievements are not enough to change the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; And when they have completed the task, or when they know they cannot do it they must have the courage to step down like Jacinda Ardern.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260308010340_b1c2a873eb640e3f10ab912c368dc9271f12f60d600bf8d5db5d2c13422a317c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260308010340_b1c2a873eb640e3f10ab912c368dc9271f12f60d600bf8d5db5d2c13422a317c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Jacinda book details"> </figure>  &nbsp;

sewage

Toilet trained

Getting our shit together

RSP’s activist DNA

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Ending Nepal’s malestream politics