Kathmandu Asbjørn Voreland first travelled to Nepal overland from Norway in 1964 to work as a teacher at Ampipal in Gorkha district. There, he and his wife Mia raised their daughters, including Helen and Marianne.&nbsp; Marianne contracted <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-dengue-outbreak-exposes-climate-risk">encephalitis</a> when she was one year old, and has lived with a mental disability ever since. Because their mother was so busy taking care of Marianne, Helen grew up playing hide and seek and flying kites with neighhbourhood children in Ampipal, learning to speak and feel Nepali. The parents subsequently moved to Kathmandu, where they employed Tulsa Sharma to take care of Marianne. Both were 17, and the companionship inspired Tulsa for her life’s work with special needs children in Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230421150428_77db088d68affe7c26dfbba40c745ce54e62c61f42c27c340f972c378e9d2c2e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230421150428_77db088d68affe7c26dfbba40c745ce54e62c61f42c27c340f972c378e9d2c2e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="2238" loading="lazy" alt="marianne"> <figcaption>Marianne in a stroller in Patan in 1972 with her mother Mia Voreland. Photo: MIA VORELAND</figcaption> </figure>  Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2016/07/27/disability-friendly-jorpati/" target="_blank">Disability-friendly Jorpati</a>, From the Nepali Press “Marianne needed a lot of care, but she was gentle and always smiling because of the love she got,” Tulsa recalls. “This motivated me to do something for Nepali children with similar afflictions who may not be so lucky. I could imagine what it would have been like for me if I were in her shoes.”&nbsp; Mental disorder is still such a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/stigma-and-silence-mental-health-nepal,3486">stigma in Nepali society</a> that there are cases of children being locked up in attics, and mothers blamed for sins in a previous life. Families with children who suffer from mental afflictions are deemed to be cursed, some cannot rent rooms, and suffer ostracisation. Nearly 30 years after her life-changing experience taking care of the Norwegian teenager, Tulsa Sharma now runs the Asha Bal Bikash Sewa (ABBS) special needs daycare in Lalitpur for children with intellectual and physical disabilities. From the outside, the facility looks like any other middle school in Nepal. But unlike other shelters, it is filled with laughter, the children hug their teachers, songs stream out of open upper windows, the classroom walls are decorated with colourful posters, and students are all busy making things, or scribbling at their tables. The <a href="https://www.hdcsnepal.org/project/asha-bal-bikash-sewa-abbs-a-day-care-centre-for-special-needs-children/">ABBS centre</a> has 80 students, with as many others connected through home visits. It also runs a facility in Chitwan and a community-based rehabilitation centre in Rukum. The students mostly have three of the 10 disorder categories designated by the government: autism, Down's Syndrome, muscular dystrophy, or have multi-disabilities.&nbsp; Although the centres are supposed to only accept children up to 16, they have much older people who would not get the proper care at home, or do not have the skills for society to be more accepting of them. One of the children who was brought to the ABBS centre a few years ago was a four-year-old boy with Down's Syndrome who had been locked up in a storeroom behind the kitchen by his family. He was not allowed into the rest of the home, and even the pets were treated better.&nbsp; “I held the boy in my lap, and I remember the mother started crying because she said it was the first time someone besides herself had ever touched her child,” Tulsa recalls, her eyes tearing up. She adds, “I realised that caring for these children means support for their mothers, they get more time for themselves. We train parents in how to deal with children with disabilities, and also give the children basic life skills to improve their quality of life when they leave here.” Norway Nearly 7,000km away, Helen Eikeland was visiting her sister Marianne at a daycare centre in the Norwegian town of Måneglytt earlier this month. Marianne is now 55, but has the mental age of a one-year-old, and is visibly excited to see her sister, smiling affectionately. But it is when Helen starts speaking to her in Nepali that Marianne suddenly goes quiet as she concentrates to catch every sound of a faraway language of their childhood together in Nepal.&nbsp; “मेरी बैनी कस्ती राम्री। हेर त तिमीलाई भेट्न नेपालदेखि आउनु भएको छ।” Helen says, as her sister listens intently. (My sister is so pretty. Look, someone is here to see you all the way from Nepal.) Read also:&nbsp; <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-right-of-passage">The right of passage</a>, Sahina Shrestha <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/changing-disability-to-this-ability">Changing disability to this-ability</a>, Sravasti Ghosh Dastidar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230421150432_c59ddcd9bdc1cc4804310cbcb3614b0b31cfc6c4c588d5227cf189e992fdf9a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230421150432_c59ddcd9bdc1cc4804310cbcb3614b0b31cfc6c4c588d5227cf189e992fdf9a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="MARIANNE IN NORWAY"> <figcaption>Helen Eikeland with her sister Marianne at a daycare centre in Måneglytt. Photos: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  The daycare centre teaches handicraft and other basic skills to people with intellectual difficulties. Many are adults, and for them it is like going to work every day. The coasters, mats, coffee mugs, napkin holders they make are sold in the facility’s gift shop. In a vocational school for those with special needs in the nearby town of Øvrebø, students had just returned from a visit to the ABBS centre in Nepal, and were excited to share their experience with others. For the past 12 years, the Øvrebø Blue Cross special vocational school has been sending groups of students to Tulsa Sharma’s centres in Nepal and raised funds to support young Nepalis with mental disabilities. Tulsa herself was trained in special needs education at these facilities in Måneglytt and Øvrebø. The Norwegian students at the centre have faced challenges in their own lives, and the Nepal visits have had a special impact on their learning and self-worth, says the school’s Ingvill Vik Dunsæd, who was also in Nepal with her students earlier this year. One of them was Monica Kinnapel, who had a drug and alcohol problem as a teenager, and went through one year of rehabilitation before being enrolled at the Øvrebø school, also helping out at the daycare to look after Marianne.&nbsp; Because of this Nepal connection, she joined a trip to Kathmandu, and says the visit to the ABBS centre transformed her. “I was spoilt, was an egotist and selfish, but in Nepal I saw how you can be happy. The Nepalis we met were genuine, they taught me to be a nicer person,” Kinnapel said. She is now married, has a baby girl and got a job as a nurse. “I will teach what I learnt in Nepal about life to my children,” she said.&nbsp; Helga Sjøfn had ADHD and remembers how welcoming everyone was at the ABBS centre in Nepal. “I was such a brat before, and I have become a much nicer person. Nepal changed me. It made me more compassionate, and showed me I could also be important for someone else,” said Sjøfn. The Nepal experience had such lasting impact on Sjøfn’s life that she rolled up her sleeve to show a ‘ नमस्ते’ tattoo on her wrist. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Our-job-to-reach-out,995" target="_blank">Our job to reach out</a>, Samira Shakya  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230421150432_e44fbd78cd47dc7a4f6adda0f714ca89d477dde3fed33d711b78c6f1bfe246ba.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230421150432_e44fbd78cd47dc7a4f6adda0f714ca89d477dde3fed33d711b78c6f1bfe246ba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="944" loading="lazy" alt="norway in nepal"> <figcaption>The ABBS special needs daycare for children with mental and physical disabilities in Lalitpur during a recent visit by Norwegian students.</figcaption> </figure>  Vik Dunsæd says these stories of transformation from the students inspired her to take new batches every year to ABBS in Nepal. She and Tulsa both agree that the interactions between Norwegian and Nepali students at ABBS in Kathmandu provides valuable exposure to both. “We do not go to Nepal to change Nepal, we go there to let Nepal change us,” says Vik Dunsæd who is heavily involved in raising money through concerts, bakery sales, lotteries and other events in and around Marianne’s hometown of Vennesla. This is a story of how a couple from a corner of Norway raised a girl in a remote village in Nepal, and how her life set off a chain reaction, so that many years later people in Norway and Nepal are still helping those with special needs in each other’s countries.&nbsp; Marianne’s sister Helen was born in Gorkha, and looked after their father Asbjørn as he struggled with Alzheimer’s in a hospice in Vennesla till his death last year. His memory was gone, but he could still speak Nepali. Besides teaching at university in Norway, Helen is also involved in improving the quality of Nepal’s education system and visits Kathmandu often. She is convinced her sister’s story is proof of the power of compassion. In fluent Nepali, she says: “For someone who is so dependent on others, Marianne has helped many more become less dependent.” Read also:&nbsp; <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/making-nepal-accessible-to-all">Making Nepal accessible to all</a> <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/kathmandu-accessibility-friendly,2609">Give them a way</a>, &nbsp;Stéphane Huët <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/No-right-of-passage,156">No right of passage</a>, &nbsp;Sulaiman Daud <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18502#.ZEKTz-xBzt0">Educating children with disabilities</a> <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/seeing-it-a-different-way-for-visually-impaired-in-Kathmandu,2933">Seeing it a different way</a>, &nbsp;Smriti Basnet

Kunda Dixit

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1084x550

One person’s adversity brings hope to many

Most frequent fliers within Nepal will have noticed that aviation also serves as a medical evacuation service for passengers travelling for hospital treatment in the cities.
This is especially the case in flights from remote area airports in western Nepal. But often, domestic flights on trunk routes also have patients or expectant mothers flying to or from Kathmandu. Aside from this, there are also many passengers with special needs who may find airports, ramp buses and getting in and out of planes not wheelchair friendly.&nbsp;
Getting on planes requires waiting in numerous lines, check-in, and security procedures. This creates a challenge for persons with disabilities, pregnant women, seniors or minors.&nbsp;
Now, domestic carriers like Buddha Air provide special assistance to passengers needing medical equipment and support while traveling such as wheelchairs, seniors with movement difficulties, pregnant women.&nbsp;
“Special assistance in airlines is necessary so travel is convenient to all passengers regardless of their age, medical condition and or mobility impairments,” says Dipendra Karn of Buddha Air. “Providing special assistance promotes inclusive and accessible air travel to all passengers and &nbsp;prevents discrimination.”
Buddha Air is the first airline in Nepal to replace steps with ramps so wheelchair passengers can board planes without having to be physically carried on and off the cabin. Passengers have to make a request with necessary documents laying out their mobility restrictions. The carrier also requires a personal attendant to accompany such passengers and an Indemnity Bond from next of kin.
Passengers also have to fill out a Medical Information Form (MEDIF) so that the airline can determine whether the passenger is fit to fly. Special seating arrangements can also be made for passengers requiring stretchers or Portable Oxygen Cylinders (POC). The captain is notified if there is a passenger carrying POC onboard, as well as the nature of the passenger's oxygen needs.
Passenger stretchers are placed in the last three rows of the ATR-72 or -42 aircraft and are required to be escorted by qualified medical personnel as per the doctor’s recommendation.
Pregnant women can get special assistance if they are from 29-36 weeks and must present a medical certificate stating that she is fit to fly. Women less than 28 weeks pregnant do not need to submit any documents. Women are not allowed to fly if they are more than 37 weeks pregnant.&nbsp;
Infants less than 7 days are not allowed to fly. Babies between 7 days to below 2 years are charged 10% of fare, child passengers between 2 to under 12 years pay 33% of normal fare, and young passengers between 12 to 16 years can travel unaccompanied. Children between 5-12 can be unaccompanied minors and will get help in check-in and disembarkation.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.buddhaair.com/special-assistance">Buddha Air's Special Assistance</a> can be requested through the website and mobile app.

1250x600

Flying with special needs

‘One early morning, we heard the ambassador’s wife cry out, “Ram, Ram, Ram!” A disaster has befallen Nepal!” She had heard on the radio that a fire had consumed Singha Durbar." This is not about the arson attack on 9 September 2025, but the one on 8 July, 1973. It started in the South Wing of the then single-largest building in all of Nepal. It took two days to bring the blaze under control, requiring the use of explosives to demolish one wing to protect the imposing western facade. As Bhekh Bahadur Thapa recalls in the English translation of his memoir A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy, he was then on leave from the Nepal government serving with the IDRC in Ottawa.&nbsp; He had already served as Nepal’s Finance Secretary at age 25, went on to be Finance Minister and Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank. He was already younger than some of the GenZ ministers in Nepal’s present RSP government. Thapa, now 89, was at the launch of the book in February which was attended by former diplomats and bureaucrats. After speeches by panelists, there was a question from the audience about how Thapa had managed to be the diplomat he was, managing Nepal’s international relations on the world stage.&nbsp; Writer and journalist Akhilesh Upadhyay, who was moderating the panel, responded by going into the section of the book where we see Thapa as an ambassador to the US, playing tennis with White House officials, cultivating a network of contacts to project the identity and welfare of Nepal, and making it possible for a state visit by King Birendra to Ronald Reagan’s America. The book is full of anecdotes that suggest Thapa was a clever and strategic diplomat, always calm and unruffled, easily making friends in high places with his maturity and engaging sense of humour. Thapa’s memoir is heavy on details about Nepal’s administrative history during the years he was active in public service, serving as minister and ambassador under three kings: Mahendra, Birendra and Gyanendra, and alongside five prime ministers.&nbsp; Aside from an insider look on how certain treaties, development deals and research projects in Nepal came into fruition, Thapa goes into great detail about his personal and professional relationships with the kings, ministers, ambassadors, foreign leaders and politicians.&nbsp; As a reader, one is struck by the level of detail around the events that unfolded in Nepal over the years during Thapa’s tenure. Was Thapa recording a journal over the years of the events and the conversations that transpired, or were they committed to his phenomenal memory? Either way, the reader gets a glimpse of Nepal’s recent history from the early days of the Panchayat, through the People’s Movement and the democracy period, the Maoist insurgency, Royal Palace massacre of 2001, and Gyanendra’s coup of 2005.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1584" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How to win friends and influence nations NT"> </figure>  Not enough is said about the political parties of the time whose presence led to the way Nepal’s multiparty democracy came to be shaped. The book keeps its focus on the administration and the key figures around it, mostly those in the Panchayat era. Towards the second half of the book, we do start to hear about political parties, but not in great depth. Another figure whose presence in the book is conspicuously less prominent is that of his wife, Rita Thapa — the person who seems to have rescued him every time financial quandary or family care became a challenge. Yet, we do not see her as a full person. Perhaps because of the personal tragedies in his life, the children are also barely mentioned.&nbsp; The book is therefore less personal and more technical. Throughout, we learn about Thapa’s thinking as he navigated the world of diplomacy to win him the trust of those who mattered. There are tips here for a new generation of Nepali officials and diplomats about how much commitment and focus is needed to be good at one’s job and serve the national interest. This book adds to tomes that have been written on Nepal’s fragile relationship with India. ‘India has always wished for Nepal to remain dependent on it,’ writes Thapa, who served as Nepal’s ambassador to India and later in the Eminent Persons Group &nbsp;on Indo-Nepal relations that has been allowed to languish. The book has several insights into the Indo-Nepal trysts with diplomacy and agency.&nbsp; China’s role is also recorded, viewed through conversations during a visit to Beijing, but all that was before Nepal’s neighbour to the north emerged as a world economic and military power. The book also has such sudden instances of quirkiness and humour. For instance, we see a young Thapa in America explaining to a government official why he would like to return to Nepal instead of settling down in the US. “Because, Nepal is beautiful,” he said. The text is immaculate and does not read much like a translation, credit for which clearly goes to the team that put the edition together: translator Prawin Adhikari, &nbsp;Anagha Neelakanthan and Bhekh Thapa’s daughter, Manjushree. As Nepal enters a new era of governance and diplomacy, A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy should be essential reading for students of political science, economics and foreign affairs who can gain a fresh perspective on the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; There are dozens of forgotten state secrets recorded in the book, but the reader must also remember this is a story told from one person’s perspective and there may be others.&nbsp; So, what really made Thapa the diplomat he was? I met him in 2004 at the Kantipur TV studio when he was serving as king Gyanendra’s foreign minister. He was there for a studio interview, and I was just done with my English newscast.&nbsp; He surprised me at the door: “Pratibha! I’ve been reading your articles in The Kathmandu Post. You must keep writing.” I thanked him, glad to have been noticed for my work by a stranger. That was perhaps one of the things that set Thapa apart — he excelled at staying close to those in power, while also noticing those who were not.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Book details"> </figure>

How to win friends and influence nations

This is the 91st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I have still not come to terms with the reality that my daughter Ruby Thakur is now the Deputy Speaker of Nepal’s Parliament. Sometimes, when I am walking, the thought hits me, and I cannot believe it.&nbsp; Things changed for my daughter in a very short time. I had dreamt that the best my daughter could achieve was a good engineering job. Fate had bigger plans for her. She is no longer just my daughter, she is the nation’s daughter. Nepal’s daughter.&nbsp; My children’s education was always my foremost priority. That is the main reason I went overseas for employment. I realised the value of education while working in Saudi Arabia. In my office, colleagues with good education earn $8,000 per month working on computers. Those with low education toil outdoors in the heat for much lower wages. A good education or skills can change everything. I am in Nepal on vacation and will soon return to my job. Ruby is all set now. But I still have to take care of my other children's education. As the eldest son, I myself never got a chance to prioritise my own education. I dropped out in Grade 7 because I had to take care of my ageing parents and younger siblings. I have done all kinds of jobs. I worked in a landlord’s field for a share of the harvest. Even now my wife and I farm for the land owner and have to give away half of what we grow.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> <figcaption>Sogarath Thakur during a break in Nepal with wife tending to his farm.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  Then I worked as a barber, my family’s line of occupation. I went door to door cutting people’s hair and later worked in a relative’s saloon. Hairstyles were simple back then, and I got to keep half the fee. I also worked in a brick factory where I was paid weekly. &nbsp; I married when I was 16, and my wife was a year younger. As my family and responsibilities grew, I had to migrate leaving behind my three children including Ruby who was just three months old.&nbsp; I went to Qatar where I continued working as a barber. It was a large saloon and the standards for cleanliness and professionalism were higher. I had to hand over 70% of my daily earnings to the employer. I had to rely on my colleague to translate what the customer wanted. But I slowly became fluent in Arabic. I used to jot down words in Nepali and Arabic and memorise them. In Qatar, customers even came at night for haircuts, and people stayed up late. I would work till 3AM.&nbsp; Communicating with my family was one-way. I would go to Bismillah and ask someone to type out questions to my family about their whereabouts, how the harvest was that season. I would offer very little information about my life in Qatar because it was not easy. What was the point of getting them all worried? What could they do? I never received a letter in return, so throughout my time in Qatar, I never knew how my family was faring. When I appeared in the village after five years without any advance notice, it was a bittersweet reunion, and I had no gifts. I still remember how unfamiliar my village felt when I came home after so many years. I had to ask for directions. When I came home, Ruby was already in school. I had left her in my wife’s arms five years prior. I missed her growing up, and did not even see her pictures. My wife had to introduce her to me as her father. But it took just 15 minutes for her to warm up to me.&nbsp; The Arabic skills I had picked up in Qatar came in handy when I remigrated two years later to Saudi Arabia. I worked as a labourer in the desert heat, but once my company found out I spoke Arabic, I was hired for an indoor job as an office boy. The struggle in Qatar had paid off. I worked in an air conditioned office serving tea or coffee, doing bank runs or getting documents signed and photocopied. I have worked in the same company for the past 20 years, sending money home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  My wife is not just my children’s guardian, but also mine throughout the two decades I was away. I trust her with all my earnings, and she manages our household finances well. She makes sure that the children’s school fees and other expenses are paid on time. These days, with video calls, things have become much easier for me to stay in touch with home.&nbsp; When Ruby told me she wanted to do an engineering diploma, I was happy. Later, her friends inspired her to join politics so she started getting involved with Shram Sanskriti Party. I first found out she got the proportional representation nomination through social media while on my work duty in Saudi Arabia. I was so excited, but even more so when she was elected Deputy Speaker. I was back home in Dhanusha on my vacation at the time.&nbsp; We are overjoyed and waiting for her to come back to the village for a visit when she gets a chance so we can celebrate properly with everyone. I plan to go back to Saudi Arabia as originally planned, I have a good job and will work for maybe five more years. Ruby has taken 75% of the load off my back. She can help take care of her siblings.&nbsp; I sleep at 8PM every day and wake up at 5AM to exercise before my day in Saudi Arabia begins – I have stuck to the same routine for the last two decades and it has worked well for me and my health. I have a good rapport with my boss who is an Egyptian. My requests to resign have often been met with counter-offers to stay on. My honesty and hard work have won me the company's trust. I will go back and resume working as I have, despite my daughter’s huge achievements. I am still a farmer’s son, a simple man who has to fulfil his family responsibilities. My colleagues in Saudi Arabia are aware that Ruby is Deputy Speaker in Nepal’s Parliament, they are all happy for me and have congratulated me. This time, when I go back, I have promised them that I will throw a bakhri party to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.

The nation’s daughter

Nepalis are insured but not covered

At 6 feet and one inch, Hira Bahadur Ghalan was exceptionally tall for a Nepali. In 1936, when people came to his Tamang village near Tistung looking for porters, they recruited him on the spot. This was no ordinary job, Hira Bahadur would lead gangs of 30 or more porters to carry cars bought by Rana rulers from Bhimphedi to Kathmandu.&nbsp; Those were the days when the only motorable roads in Nepal were in Kathmandu, but the capital was not connected to anywhere else by road. So, before cars could carry people, people had to carry cars. More Nepalis had carried cars than ridden in one. The porters were paid Rs5 for the job, and sometimes the Rana owners gave Hira Bahadur a Rs25 baksheesh. One of the cars his community helped carry was a 1939 Daimler Benz gifted by Adolf Hitler to King Tribhuvan to woo Nepal away from the British. The rusted dusty vehicle is now in the Narayanhiti Palace Museum.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur hauled cars for 25 years until his knees gave way, he died at age 90 eight years ago — the last surviving car porters of Nepal from Chitlang Valley.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur Ghalan had three sons and three daughters, one of them is Maila Kaji Lama, who at age 68, is a chauffeur in Kathmandu. His son, Manjil Lama is a pilot with Summit Air, flying to remote Himalayan airstrips. Three generations of one family worked in professions that followed a century of transportation history in Nepal. &nbsp; After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-long-and-winding-road-to-india">Tribhuvan Rajpath was finished in 1957</a> and the ropeway upgraded, Hira Bahadur was out of a job. He tilled the family farm, watching trucks and buses headed to and from Kathmandu on the hairpins.&nbsp; As a child, Maila Kaji was fascinated by cars and wished one day to be able to drive one. After he failed Grade 8, he came to Kathmandu in 1975 and got a Rs20/month job at a petrol station in Maiti Devi. “I watched King Birendra’s coronation and was impressed by the glamour of Kathmandu, and decided to stay here,” Maila Kaji says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1974" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Maila Kaji</figcaption> </figure>  Former minister Ramesh Nath Pandey used to bring his Volkswagen Beetle to the station, and Maila Kaji started taking care of his car. Later, he drove a Russian Jeep for former minister and geographer Harka Gurung. Along the way, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin colleague, and married her. “My father back in Tistung did not approve of our inter-ethnic marriage, and not speak to me for five years,” Maila Kaji recalls. Manjil Lama grew up in Kathmandu, and did well in science in school. He had wanted to go the US to become a pilot like his friends, but was denied a visa.&nbsp; “The visa officer told him I did not earn enough,” says Maila Kaji, “so I sold some property and sent Manjil to flying school in the Philippines.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537" data-rendition-name="original" width="1434" height="1754" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Manjil Lama</figcaption> </figure>  After returning to Nepal, Manjil Lama now flies Let 410s of Summit Air to difficult air strips like Lukla and Simkot, and has logged over 2,000 hours. He has to go to the Czech Republic regularly for simulator training. Says Maila Kaji Lama: “My father worked hard carrying cars to raise us, I started from scratch to become a driver to support my family, and my son is now a pilot with experience in flying in the world’s toughest terrain.” &nbsp; Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvT3iTi8yw4" target="_blank">video clip from S Dillon Ripley here</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1582" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> </figure>

special-needs

One person’s adversity brings hope to many

Flying with special needs

How to win friends and influence nations

The nation’s daughter

Nepalis are insured but not covered

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes