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

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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.

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Flying with special needs

Jazz as healing music

Already trying to balance youth demands with legal provisions in the Constitution, Prime Minister Sushila Karki’s interim government faced yet another challenge over Dasain: a receding monsoon dumped unseasonal rain unleashing floods and landslides that killed at least 60, mostly in eastern Nepal.&nbsp; The government was rated positively for its early warning and the ‘visibility’ of its disaster response, with many comparing it to the inaction of the NC-UML coalition during last year’s floods.&nbsp; Government agencies and police proactively closed off hazardous sections of highways as Kathmandu was marooned from the rest of the country in the peak holiday season. Stranded passengers were taken care of, with police, army and local governments in Ilam coordinating rescue and relief efforts. Many of the problems were structural and inherited from decades of neglect and corruption in highway contracts. Shoddy bridges and encroachment of settlements along river banks have increased risk from more frequent extreme weather caused by climate breakdown. With Dasain over Tihar around the corner and the worst of the disaster behind, the Karki administration is trying to balance the separate demands of GenZ movers and shakers who installed her in office with constitutional provisions. It has not helped that the badly-mauled political parties are spoiling for a fight, and the three top leaders show little signs of stepping down. “Nepal’s movement did not happen in a democratic vacuum, so this government walks a very fine line in political legitimacy," says Bidushi Dhungel of the National Democratic Institute in Nepal. "In this fragile space, whatever the work done — or not done— by the interim government within its limited mandate, it may open up avenues for further dissent from old and new actors. They are &nbsp;caught between a rock and a hard place.” Civil society activists issued a statement on Wednesday calling on the main political parties to heed the writing on the wall and reform themselves. Signed by professor Krishna Khanal and former ambassador Keshab Mathema, the statement said: 'The main leaders of the main parties should say sorry, and voluntarily resign ... they must respect public sentiments and work to reform and transform their parties to be more accountable to the public, or risk being irrelevant.'&nbsp; Complicating matters further are the sometimes contradictory demands of various GenZ factions on punishing those responsible for the carnage and rampage of 8-9 September, Constitution and elections. Karki faces calls to immediately detain former PM KP Oli and Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak for their involvement in the massacre outside Parliament. Under pressure from GenZ delegates, Home Minister Om Aryal fired off a letter to the police to arrest Oli and Lekhak. But later at a confrontational midnight meeting at the prime minister’s residence in Baluwatar, all four security chiefs advised Karki that arresting the UML and NC ex-ministers could unleash violent confrontation on the streets. The interim government is in a bind. It has formed a committee headed by Gauri Bahadur Karki to investigate the killings last month as well as the arson and vandalism that followed. The question is: should it wait for the committee to submit its report before punishing perpetrators, or let police arrest those who can easily be identified in social media posts setting fire to Singha Darbar, the Supreme Court and other sites.&nbsp; GenZ’s Sudan Gurung faction has gone beyond its original demand to submit an 8-point ultimatum that includes the sacking of the Chief Justice and officials of the anti-corruption bureau.&nbsp; The Prime Minister is caught in the crossfire between managing the expectations of a movement that appointed her, and working within the framework of her interim government’s mandate and Constitution. But it is not just the government that faces challenges. The lack of clear consensus among youth factions and their outspoken collectives is surfacing.&nbsp; &nbsp;“This has been a leaderless and decentralised movement, and the traditional variables typically seen in a political revolt seem missing here," notes political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal. “There is no organised structure, nor any ideological pull factor, therefore a big question is how much bargaining power does a movement like this have, and how sustainable will it be.” GenZ leaders seem to be in two main camps. Demands like the one for a directly elected prime minister, and the constitutional processes that can make for such an outcome, have emerged as a major point dividing the movement.&nbsp; Nepalis both within and outside the youth movement are watching Hami Nepal’s Sudan Gurung closely — especially after his recent interview with Al-Jazeera during which he expressed his interest to run for Prime Minister and seemed to not accept a win by political parties in the March elections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251009201044_fcba7e92bb9a8812fd0ad4e9770d6f4d4189972de5229f91e9a832a26e388901.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251009201044_fcba7e92bb9a8812fd0ad4e9770d6f4d4189972de5229f91e9a832a26e388901" data-rendition-name="original" width="2916" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="One month on NT"> <figcaption>GROUND ZERO: The destroyed centre of Nepal's government with Singha Darbar (in green scaffolding), the Attorney General's Office, Supreme Court, and in the distance, Parliament building. Also seen are the nearly finished new Parliament Complex and the new Supreme Court buildings. Drone shot taken on Thursday morning. Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Gurung’s participation in the NDRRMA’s disaster management meeting and manner of his interaction with officials at the event was met with both bouquets and brickbats. Interestingly, some of the criticism was youth activists themselves. &nbsp;“There's a lot of self-involvement and self-importance that seems to be guiding a fragmented young leadership, as opposed to constructively engaging in how to concretise reforms,” says Dhungel. “There seems to be very little stocktaking of what's happened in the past, and what's happened in other countries to try identify where lapses could be before they occur."&nbsp; In the absence of unified positions and level-headed leadership, the youth who spearheaded post-protest negotiations, as well as the GenZ movement in general, risk losing public goodwill already dented by the destruction of state property on 9 September. This also leaves an opening for political parties which are on the defensive and licking their wounds to capitalise on youth discord.&nbsp; Says Pyakuryal: “Post revolution, the political landscape becomes extremely unpredictable and therefore there is a risk of co-optation from several Machiavellian political actors including political parties, monarchists, as well as other forces, and that is concerning.” The immediate and visible transformation that Nepal’s youth expect will not manifest right away, and while there is a need for long-term political planning, the caretaker government must also undertake measures that have a palpable impact on the daily life of citizens. &nbsp;&nbsp; “While youth frustrations must be addressed urgently, statecraft isn’t just about fulfilling short-term goals,”says Pyakuryal. &nbsp; Many, including the youth themselves, now see the need for GenZ to have a more united stance and to move beyond making demands that the interim government cannot fulfil and start mobilising for elections — even by forming its own party.&nbsp; A strong showing in elections can enable them to enact the changes they want to strengthen Nepal’s democracy, and make future governments more accountable.&nbsp; This week, the Election Commission announced 16 November as the deadline to register new parties for the 5 March polls.&nbsp; Youth representatives have said that they want to be active participants in the political process, particularly in national-level politics. The Constitution defines ‘youth’ as being between the ages of 16-40. In the 2022 elections, the Election Commission stated that over 41% of locally-elected representatives were from ages 21-40 years.&nbsp; If young Nepalis are to contest the election outside the banner of mainstream parties, this leaves electoral aspirants little more than a month to decide whether to form a loose coalition with existing parties, a separate political party, or to contest elections independently. “This is first of a kind movement, where political language is digital, not ideological, where organising is done through online platforms and where there is no one leader spearheading the movement,”says Pyakuryal. “I don’t know if ‘anti-corruption’ or ‘political reform’ have a strong enough ideological pull to band people together in the long run.” Indeed, the RSP was formed only four months before the 2022 elections and cashed in on anti-incumbent and anti-corruption sentiments of voters — mainly driven by social media. But controversy and strife within their party means it has largely lost its public trust.&nbsp; Nepal’s September Uprising and its aftermath have shown that a majority of young people are entirely disillusioned with establishment parties and politicians, even using ‘ex-political parties’ as a phrase of reference. Any new young political figures that emerge from this movement and this election will have to work with mainstream parties in a multiparty democracy.&nbsp; &nbsp;“The reality of politics is that change is not possible without engaging with existing political institutions and actors,” says Dhungel. “To say that they do not want to engage, negotiate, or identify allies or proactively seek out input from at least the reform-minded individuals within each of those outfits is political naivety, and may lead to a lack of institutionalised reform.” However, Dhungel notes that the youth leadership would have more agency if they are clear not just on what they want to change, but about whether they are interested in active politics or civic engagement. “The window of opportunity that is fast closing is to really negotiate hard and push for internal reforms within political parties and across the electoral system,” she adds. Pyakurel also adds: “GenZ are smart and politically mature, I hope they see these loopholes. I am optimistic about the direction they take.”

One month on

7:30pm Tuesday, 9 September.&nbsp; I was driving my daughter back from a relative’s house in Baneswar where she had taken refuge after a curfew was declared the previous day while she was in school. She was riding pillion on the back of my moped. We drove past Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">where 19 people had been killed by police </a>the previous day. We passed Thapathali, where the Kantipur highrise was on fire. The sky had gone dark, and the stinging smoke made it hard to breathe. A gas cylinder exploded, and the crowd dispersed briefly. The blast provided a moment to escape the raging mob. By myself I may not have been so scared, but my daughter’s safety made me more afraid. I had never been this frightened in my journalism career, even while covering the Maoist insurgency 20 years ago. At the Tripureswor intersection there were more angry crowds. The further we got from the epicentre of the GenZ demonstration, the more elderly the protesters looked. Many were muscular gentlemen with tattooed arms. Prime Minister K P Oli had just <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">resigned</a>, but the crowd was still chanting “के पी चोर, देश छोड”. Soon, we were surrounded by an enraged mob. &nbsp;My survival instinct took over, and I started shouting “के पी चोर” and my plucky daughter screamed from behind “देश छोड”. Father and daughter waved at the &nbsp;protesters, and gave them a thumbs up. &nbsp;We finally got home, scared and smelling of burning rubber and smoke.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031028_c5c04095cdb6f0b24cdc2cc60bf627f49c15e0cf9b509ad149df35a2e73e1d3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251007031028_c5c04095cdb6f0b24cdc2cc60bf627f49c15e0cf9b509ad149df35a2e73e1d3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September"> <figcaption>A building in Baneswar was damaged by protesters. </figcaption> </figure>  ARSON AND LOOTING I was born in the remote mountains of western Nepal in Rukum, the district that was the stronghold of the Maoist guerrillas after they launched an armed struggle in 1996. I moved to Kathmandu for higher studies, and as a student witnessed the popular uprising of 2006 against Gyanendra’s absolute monarchy. I have covered violence and chaos. I have been caught in the crossfire between the rebels and state security. I covered the violent <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-historic-youth-dissensus">street protests</a> of the 2006 People’s Movement that ended the war, the Madhes movement and the Indian blockade of 2015.&nbsp; But never was I more scared than during the 30-minute drive home through the city with my daughter at the back of my moped.&nbsp; Last month’s protests were initially led by youth groups which had loosely banded together as GenZ to protest corruption and impunity. On 8 September, I drove to the Mandala in my trusty moped to cover the rally, some protesters were in school uniform. There was singing and chanting. Just before noon, a slightly older group of protesters peeled off from the sit-in in front of Everest Hotel, broke through the half-hearted police cordon and moved towards the intersection outside Parliament. Most of the original young demonstrators remained at the sit-in, while the grownup protesters who were clearly not a part of the GenZ, started to break the perimeter wall of the Parliament complex. The young protesters looked a bit confused about what to do next as they also neared the Parliament gates. Violence was not a part of their plan, and the infiltration had begun in earnest. A group of organised older rioters broke through the western wall, even as police were concentrated along the main south gate. These agitators seemed focused on a single mission: to burn down the Parliament building, and they went about it purposefully.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031032_1fcd474774c8e110e833485cf54a7e63e8c8388ec78c2b4d3ae6e830c203c183.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251007031032_1fcd474774c8e110e833485cf54a7e63e8c8388ec78c2b4d3ae6e830c203c183" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September NT"> <figcaption>Blood seen in Baneswar.</figcaption> </figure>  Too late, the police used water cannons to disperse those by the south gate. I went closer, my press card dangling from my neck. A tear gas canister whizzed past my head. I was not able to see clearly, and backed away to safety. The police opened fire at point blank range, killing 19 protesters. Hundreds of injured were carried to the nearby Civil Hospital. There are many video clips on social media of task force police kneeling, taking aim with SLR rifles and shooting, they show protesters being hit and falling. The riot police fled, and the Armed Police Force and Nepal Army soldiers came out, but remained close to the trucks that had transported them to the intersection. Seeing that the security forces were not stopping them, the crowd then went on an arson rampage — it became a free-for-all as government buildings were set on fire one after another. Most of the arsonists were not GenZ, they were in the mid-30s, and I heard many shouting slogans for the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/why-the-monarchy-still-sways-nepal-s-republic"> restoration of the monarchy</a>. Others were there simply to vandalise and loot. After having chased the police away from the Parliament building, they posted pictures and videos, having the run of the premises, instigating new arrivals to continue with the arson, and also brandishing looted automatic weapons. A curfew was declared, but this did not stop the rampage throughout that evening and into the night. Unable to return home, I spent the night in a friend’s office, and returned to the Parliament area the next morning. The black asphalt was dyed red with blood. Shoes, slippers and pieces of clothing littered the street. The next day, 9 September the much-feared and expected revenge attacks ignited. There was hope that the Army would be able to protect government buildings and provide public security, but the arson, vandalism and looting went unchecked — even when the seats of government were set on fire. The military did make an appearance, but only after 10pm to enforce the curfew, but by then the mob had already gone home.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031032_578cfa7c9e56f6ffcf1ca9b148e114a87b5332268cf97720584b70906823c074.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251007031032_578cfa7c9e56f6ffcf1ca9b148e114a87b5332268cf97720584b70906823c074" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September NT"> <figcaption>A protester receiving treatment at Civil Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  That was the moment I asked myself: Where have the students gone? Has the GenZ movement been hijacked? I could not see any of the GenZ-ers anywhere on 9 September. It was around midday of 9 September that millennials, including from groups like Hami Nepal came forward to the media, claiming to speak for the GenZ. They claimed to have led the protests. Others claiming to be GenZ said they were for the restoration of the monarchy, but they did not look the age.&nbsp; Mobs were out of control, burning down the prime minister’s office, the Supreme Court, the CIAA and the official and private residences of ministers. Within 27 hours Nepal became a country without a government, and leaders without homes. Important official documents went up in flames with the buildings that housed them. PM Oli resigned, too late to save the day. The Army occupied itself airlifting ministers from their official residences. Former prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his wife foreign minister Arzu Rana Deuba were dragged out, beaten up and their home set on fire. They were rescued and taken to an army base. It became hard to tell over the next few days if the Army was providing them security, or keeping them incommunicado in detention. The Army was negotiating with GenZ as well as pro-monarchists at its headquarters, but moved the talks to President Ram Chandra Paudel’s office on 11 September.&nbsp; Former chief justice Sushila Karki was nominated interim head of government by GenZ delegates voting on Discord, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/march-to-5-march">mandated to hold elections</a> on 5 March.&nbsp; Will that happen? Things are too fluid at the moment. And my mind is still reeling from the fear and panic of that moped ride with my daughter through rampaging mobs. Did all that really happen in front of my eyes, or was it just a nightmare?&nbsp; Bhadra Sharma is a reporter for The New York Times based in Kathmandu.

Reporter's diary of 8-9 September

The annual United Nations General Assembly is always an occasion for taking stock of the state of the world. But this year, on the 80th anniversary of the UN’s founding, it was also an occasion to take stock of the organisation itself.
By any measure, the UN’s situation is dire. While Russian aggression against Ukraine and mounting tensions between the United States and China cannot be blamed on the UN, they do highlight a fundamental problem. The UN Security Council – where China, Russia, and the US each wield a veto – is locked in a permanent confrontation over one issue or another, blocking the rest of the organisation from moving forward on almost anything.
Consider the situation in the Middle East, where the UN has played a central role in conflict resolution and peacemaking ever since the State of Israel was established (under a UN resolution). Numerous UN peacekeeping operations in the region have helped to alleviate tensions, and massive humanitarian efforts, primarily aimed at Palestinian refugee communities, have saved countless lives. While the UN has not forged a lasting peace, it has certainly helped prevent some wars and shorten others.
In recent years, however, the UN has increasingly been sidelined. The so-called Quartet – the UN, the US, the European Union, and Russia – is now a distant memory, and numerous UN operations have come under direct attack, primarily by Israel. The Israeli government not only questions the humanitarian efforts of UNRWA (the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees) but now also blocks the organisation’s work whenever it can.
Before Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, the UN was essential to keeping the situation in Gaza relatively stable. Though it couldn’t overcome divisions among the Palestinians, especially after Hamas assumed power in Gaza in 2006, it could, and did, help provide the basic means of survival for the enclave’s two million people. But now Israel has questioned or attacked virtually every aspect of the UN’s work on this issue, and it could not have done so without America’s tacit support. US President Donald Trump, in particular, has proved willing to accept virtually everything that Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s extremist government does.
Meanwhile, the UN has struggled to mobilise an effective response in South Sudan, a semi-failed state, and in Sudan, where a devastating civil war is entering its third year. Similarly, from the Katanga secession in 1960-63 to the recent peace operations in northeastern Congo, Central Africa continues to preoccupy UN peacekeepers and mediators.
Around the world, there is no shortage of crises that demand UN engagement – from Gaza and Sudan to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Haiti, Myanmar, and Afghanistan, to name just a few. But with the larger powers fixated on their confrontations with one another, and with the Trump administration withdrawing not only active support but also funding, the outlook for the UN appears grim.
The US provides 25% of UN funding, but it has <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/united-nations-must-adapt-or-die-by-adekeye-adebajo-2025-09" target="_blank">stopped</a> sending its contributions. It also traditionally accounts for an even larger share of voluntary financing for humanitarian operations, but these funds, too, have been cut. Making matters worse, China, the UN’s second-largest contributor, is also behind on its payments.
With its financial situation growing desperate, UN Secretary-General <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/columnist/antonio-guterres" target="_blank">António Guterres</a> warns that staff across the organisation will need to be cut by <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/sep/18/united-nations-un-2026-budget-job-losses-us-funding-cuts" target="_blank">one-fifth</a>. Morale is said to be low, as is the prospect of a change for the better. With his recent address to the General Assembly, Trump made clear that he has nothing but contempt for the organisation. The only role he seems able to see for it is to help him get a Nobel Peace Prize. The Trump administration’s forthcoming review of America’s multilateral commitments is almost certain to deliver more bad news.
Does the UN have any future? While the demand for it is as great as ever, its ability to deliver has obviously been diminished. There is no way for it to survive without scaling back its ambitions and abilities; precisely how it goes about this will be a central issue over the next few years.
With Guterres’s tenure ending in 2026, the process of selecting his successor will also have to feature a debate about ensuring the UN’s long-term survival. Moving the headquarters out of the US is a natural step, owing not only to the withdrawal of US funding and the need for cost savings, but also to the US refusal to grant visas to those attending UN gatherings (as it did with the Palestinian leadership this year).
Yes, a UN that is no longer headquartered in New York would be different in many ways. But relocation also may be the only way for it to survive. Dag Hammarskjöld, the UN’s second secretary-general, famously <a href="https://ask.un.org/faq/14623" target="_blank">remarked</a> that the body was not created to deliver Heaven, but rather to spare us from Hell. That task remains as important as ever. But for things to stay the same, everything must change. © Project Syndicate
Carl Bildt is a former prime minister and foreign minister of Sweden.

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