“Did you know this interview was supposed to be in English?” he asked with a smile. I reciprocated, although it was clear that his smile conveyed a sense of pity towards me. My smile, on the other hand, was more an expression of private shame.
I was being interviewed for the position of librarian at a residential English-medium school by the Managing Director. His personality was domineering: tall, well-built, and a pony tail.&nbsp;
I knew some of the questions he asked would be in English, but did not realise that I had to respond entirely in English too. I had some basic English language communication skills, but I was not fluent at the time.&nbsp;
“How are you planning to get by here? You clearly cannot speak the language, and our working language is English,” he said looking me directly in the eye. This interview was starting to scare me.
“म कथा भन्न सक्छु,” I blurted out in Nepali, trying to salvage my job prospect by highlighting my story-telling skills.“Okay. एउटा कथा सुनाउ,” he replied, as if to put me at ease. I immediately launched into a children’s story that had recently been published in Kopila, Kantipur’s school supplement.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/journalism-is-all-about-storytelling-and-money">Journalism is all about storytelling (and money)</a>
The story was about a letter that transformed the life of a girl with low self-esteem. She had felt unappreciated by everyone until the letter arrived from a dentist whom she had earlier helped by giving directions. The letter thanked her for being so helpful, and expressed how proud her mother must be for having such a smart daughter.&nbsp;
Despite my lack of English, the Managing Director must have found the story and my narration compelling. I got the job, but on probation and with condition attached: “You’re on your own. If you can’t connect with the students within a month, you’ll be let go.”&nbsp;
I started my job at the school library in 2006 just as the students were getting ready for their three-week summer break. Excitement and English chatter filled the air, but I could not quite follow what they were saying. They were too preoccupied with their vacation to notice me.&nbsp;
The library itself was a disaster zone. Books were scattered everywhere. And even though I had no prior knowledge of library management, I tried to bring some order into the chaos.&nbsp;
I was a voracious reader, but most of the books were in English and I felt overwhelmed. I dedicated long hours at the library, sometimes working late into the night. My goal was to familiarise myself with every single book in the stacks before the school year began, hoping to impress the students.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/read-and-let-read">Read and let read</a>, Anil Chitrakar
The holidays were coming to an end, and I felt the pressure mounting. Searching for a solution to ensure a smooth start, I came up with what I figured was a brilliant plan to convene a meeting with class captains before opening the library for all students. My reasoning was that if they were on board with enforcing library rules, the rest of the students would follow.
I was working late, and the Managing Director looked in, noticing the lights were still on. He seemed pleased to find the library in perfect condition, the books all organised.&nbsp;
“Don’t work late, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-brings-back-the-snow-leopard">leopard</a> may show up,” he said.&nbsp;
“Really? A लियोपार्ड?” I gasped, pronouncing it ‘Leo-Pard’. “Yes, तर लियोपार्ड हैन लेपर्ड चाहिँ आउँछ and they will chew you up,” he said, chuckling, and pronouncing the word leopard properly.Embarrassed, I corrected myself, silently repeating the correct pronunciation of लेपर्ड. I only understood later that he was jokingly referring to children chewing me out, not an actual leopard. This humiliation destroyed my confidence, and I lost the confidence to engage in conversation, even in Nepali.
Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/mai-commin-sir-qfdjg2uw"> "Mai commin, Sir?"</a>, Anbika Giri
The students returned and were informed about their meeting with the new Library Miss. There were two captains each from Class 4-10, and one school captain, totaling 13. I thought I was fully prepared, and it all began well.&nbsp;
But the assertiveness of the students and their fluency in English caught me completely off guard, and I fumbled for English words as my vocabulary vanished. Till this day, I feel the sweat on my forehead.
At first the class captains were taken aback, some attempted to correct my pronunciation, and then their giggling erupted into uncontrollable laughter. I could not bear the failure, and switched to Nepali but my confidence was shattered. I was not getting through at all. They walked away, making fun of my English pronunciation in a loud voice just to make sure I heard them.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/hi-hee-and-haha-hihi">Hi-Hee and Haha-Hihi</a>, Anbika Giri
Deflated, I also felt embarrassed in front of the teachers, fearing that the students may have mocked me. They insisted I speak to them in English. I avoided making eye contact and interacting with the students, I hardly spoke to the teachers, and if I did it was in Nepali.
After two months, Wangdi Sir noticed my silence. He was an English teacher from Kalimpong and was rigorous yet popular among students. He stood out among his colleagues as one of the few who preferred to spend time in the library, engrossed in reading.
One day, he asked me why I was so quiet. I shared my story, unburdening myself. He chuckled initially, but offered practical tutorials about<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepali-students-underperform"> handling students </a>in English with sentences like “Why don’t you try the fiction section?” or “May I help you find your book?”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/learning-about-teaching">Learning about teaching</a>, Prakriti Kandel
Before Wangdi Sir’s help, whenever a student requested a book I would simply get it and hand it over to them without uttering a single word. Wangdi Sir taught me that recognising weakness was the first step in overcoming it. Steadily, my confidence level improved, and I started to build rapport with students. Whenever I mispronounced something, I would politely ask them to correct me.
My eight-month tenure transitioned from a state of humiliation to a one of humility. This was when my interest in children’s literature blossomed, and the library gave me a deeper understanding of the students’ perspectives and interests.&nbsp;
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Find her previous columns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi">here</a>.

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From humiliation to humility

When Nepalis are leaving the country in droves, there are unsung heroes providing selfless services in isolated parts of the country. Teachers like Sarala Basnet do not crave wealth or fame but work one day at a time to meet their ideal of bringing up the next generation of motivated and compassionate Nepalis. Sarala, as her name suggests, values simplicty and is guided by a straightforward attitude towards life: integrity, diligence and decency. After working her way up from a small village in Baglung, Sarala, at age 35, is the first female principal of Chandrodaya Secondary School in Abu Khaireni of Tanahu district. Back in Baglung, she was also the first female student to pass SLC from high school two decades ago at a time when very few girls attended school in such far-flung villages. “The mindset was that if the girl is educated, she will contaminate traditional culture,” recalls Basnet. “But I had my heart set from an early age to being an educator.” Her father was in the military, and Basnet was the youngest of many siblings. Luckily, the family valued education and sent her to school, unlike many of her childhood mates. But it was not an easy path. When she raised her young voice against prevailing <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/fatal-discrimination/" target="_blank">gender inequality</a>, neighbours scoffed at her. This only made her more determined to be a teacher. After school, she graduated with a Bachelor of Education from Gorkha Campus, which was an accomplishment on its own at a time when <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/can-nepal-end-child-marriage-by-2030/" target="_blank">families married off their daughters </a>instead of sending them to colleges. She traveled to Butwal for an internship as a maths instructor but seeing the need in her own hometown, returned to Baglung and was a teacher for 17 years. Eight years ago she was transferred to Abu Khaireni and made principal in recognition of her dedication and commitment.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230303050312_84ca4e90b26674b418916f02c7beebf7728cff814e440ad82db72ebf69fbc892.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230303050312_84ca4e90b26674b418916f02c7beebf7728cff814e440ad82db72ebf69fbc892" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Nurture in her nature NT 2"></figure>  During this time, she got married to musician Krishna Prasad Bhatta, who works as a music teacher in Kathmandu. The couple has two children, 13 and 8. Abu Khaireni is a small picturesque farming town mostly inhabited by families whose <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/diary-of-a-nepali-soldier-in-france/" target="_blank">men serve</a> in the British, Indian or Nepali armies. The rest of the young men have migrated for work to the Gulf or Malaysia. There are not a lot of jobs for young people here and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-child-marriages-spike-during-pandemic/" target="_blank">child marriage</a> is common. Which is why one of the first things Sarala did when she became a teacher was to counsel parents about the importance of schooling girls. It used to be the girl students who dropped out in Grade 5 when their parents married them off, but interestingly these days it is the boys who are dropping out. “The boys are leaving to work in the cities or to try to get into the military,” says Sarala. “This is worrying, it is not good for the future of this village.” Schools in rural Nepal have <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality/" target="_blank">insufficient amenities, instruction is impractical and curriculum outdated</a>. During the Covid-19 pandemic, students at Chandrodaya School did not have access to the Internet, and were deprived of online classes for nearly a year. To fill the gap, Basnet organised physical sessions with varying schedules for the students. By the time the second Covid wave hit in 2021, the school was prepared for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/face-to-face-classes-online/" target="_blank">remote classes</a>. Even so, parents still make students complete their household chores before or after school, and there is not much time for the children to play and have fun. Sarala remembers her own childhood and how she had to struggle to balance home work with homework. She had to finish her assignment under the faint light of a kerosene tuki lamp. “We had to walk an hour every day to get to school, the path was steep and through forests with wild animals,” she recalls. All 160 students at Chandrodaya now have access to extracurricular activities including basic computer classes, sports, and other contests, including arts and crafts. It is extraordinary for a government school to have activities that are much better than neighbouring private schools. After having spent over two decades shaping young minds, Basnet believes that age or circumstance should not affect the process of learning. She says: “We should never stop learning, it is a lifelong process. My biggest sense of fulfilment comes from seeing my students do well in life.”

Nurture in her nature

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2a19c7e80680e0d302ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Photo: PRAKRITI KANDEL</figcaption></figure>In recent years, many scholars, policy makers, and educators have pointed to the abysmal results of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/ministry-of-education-gets-an-f/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s education system</a>, particularly its government schools. Some have noted the persistence of this low performance year after year.According to a 2017 Asian Development Bank (ADB) study of education in South Asia, student learning achievement in Nepal ‘has remained poor over the years’.Because of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/class-differences/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s ineffective educational system</a>, the country as a whole suffers but especially those from rural and marginalised communities -- Dalit, ethnic minorities, and poorer Nepalis of all caste groups. As wealthier students move to private schools, students from marginalised groups increasingly make up most of the students attending public schools.In particular, the ADB places the blame on Nepal’s ineffective and outdated teaching methods: ‘The main issue in Nepal is how to address the weak performance of classroom teachers.’ It emphasised the need for ‘fresh perspectives’ for understanding teaching and teachers.By and large, ever since modern schools arrived in Nepal in the 1950s and 1960s, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/good-fellows/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepali teachers</a> have taught the same way: using rote methods with teachers lecturing or reading material straight from the textbook and students listening and later regurgitating.This holds true, with only a few exceptions, from pre-K through college, in both government and private schools. Very few teachers encourage critical thinking, meaningful learning, or practical application.Why is rote so entrenched? Many factors seem to combine including cultural, political, policy, and personal factors. In an influential study, Nepal’s leading anthropologist Dor Bahadur Bista argued that a status-based anti-utilitarian philosophy of education embedded within Nepali religious traditions has long pervaded and undermined Nepal’s ‘modern’ schools.Historically, Bista says, education in Nepal has meant recreating hierarchy, not bringing about meaningful change in the world. The ADB addresses these foundational ideas when it calls for a new role for teachers: ‘It is important to develop teachers as facilitators and not as the sole source of knowledge and influence.’Other scholars have noted how Nepal’s autocratic rule before 1990 promoted narrow education traditions creating a mindset that still drives Nepal’s schools, including the emphasis on rote.In addition, Nepal’s culture of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/teaching-teachers,3126" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">teacher education</a> is broken. Years of pre-service and professional development efforts have made little dent on how Nepali teachers teach.‘Most of the teacher education and training initiatives have failed to transform the classroom teaching and learning process,” the ABD report notes. It adds that this includes not just Nepal’s preservice training but also its in-service teacher education: ‘The opinion of most stakeholders is that in-service programs have been reduced to training halls and leave no impact on the teachers.’That’s worth emphasising: ‘no impact’. What has been the result of years of trainings costing millions of dollars? No impact.The problems with Nepal’s teacher training culture are many. The ABD stresses one key problem: what it calls the ‘approach to delivery of curriculum’. Nepali teacher education programs, it notes, are 'structurally loaded with adequate content … (but) the overall approach and delivery most often remains traditional and fairly weak’.In other words, in Nepal, even ‘expert’ teacher trainers primarily use rote teaching methods. Exactly those trainers charged with showing teachers how to use non-rote methods often themselves rely upon rote methods.They lecture about how teachers should not lecture. In doing so, Nepal’s trainings reproduce the core problems of its educational system: too much regurgitation and not enough higher-level thinking.“Got it?” trainers yell out to teachers after a lengthy rote explanation. “Got it,” respond the teachers, and everyone is happy.Kathmandu University professor Laxman Gnawali has researched the culture of trainings in Nepal, and finds two main problems. The first is methods imported from elsewhere. These methods work in these other places (presumably), and are assumed to work in Nepal, but are actually untested.Gnawali does not conclude that outside methods cannot work, just that they can work only if they are better road-tested and carefully tailored to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/digital-divide-exposes-class-divide-in-nepal-schools/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">realities of Nepali classrooms</a>. That rarely happens. Instead there is an assumption that they should work.The second problem Gnawali identifies is the many ‘last mile’ barriers to implementation that Nepali teachers face. Student failures in English, he notes, “are often ascribed to teachers' under-performance.”“The plight of the teachers working in under-resourced classrooms,” he points out, “is habitually ignored.” That includes a daunting list of challenges: parents who are not literate, class sizes of 50 to 100 or more, hard-to-manage students, students who don’t speak much Nepali, multigrade classes, students years below grade level, a lack of materials, sometimes even no textbooks, and desks and benches fixed to ground or too crowded to move.Too often, Gnawali says, teacher trainings presume a near perfect teaching setting. Trainings “present to the trainees a picture of idealised classrooms which are well-laid out, materials rich, learner-friendly, within teacher's control and generally conducive to learning.”That’s not the reality real <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-decade-of-work-lost-in-4-months/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepali teachers</a> face in real classrooms. Instead, Gnawali says, Nepali schools need more “context-specific” methods.Many reports on Nepali education, including the ADB report, call for new teaching methods often developed in radically different teaching environments, but rarely place the emphasis on context specific appropriateness that Gnawali reminds us of.In addition, no discussion of the problem of teacher trainings would be complete without mention of two core problems. The first is one I have seen over the decades but is rarely commented upon: the problem of paying participants extra stipends on top of their salary and transportation costs to attend trainings."As soon as you say the word ‘training’ to a government teacher,” a teacher once told me, “he'll ask immediately, 'How much allowance is there?'"The extra money may guarantee high attendance – a common metric donors use to assess training ‘success’ -- but usually distorts who actually shows up for trainings and undermines their motivation to learn.And finally, there is little to no accountability for teachers. Teachers in Nepal are protected by political parties. The parties help teachers get hired and protect them when in the position. In effect, the political parties control hiring and firing, not the schools.Even if teachers do something egregious, they are rarely disciplined, much less fired. This almost total lack of accountability lowers performance across the board. It protects bad teaching.Reform efforts must account for these realities if they hope to bring any real change to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s failing public school system</a>. In the meantime, a generation of Nepal’s youth will suffer the consequences.Tom Robertson is a historian and the former director of Fulbright Nepal.

Tom Robertson

Teaching Nepali teachers to teach better

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121140/636ce3519c7e80680e096647jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>Jyoti was standing just outside the gate when I stepped out. I walked past her hurriedly, on my way out to work. She caught up with me.Hello, I said.Hello, she smiled.My father is asking if you will tuition me, she asked.Tuition, what? I asked in return. I’m not sure.Oh, if you will teach me.Teach you what? I laughed lightly.Teach me. She smiled again.I said: Okay. Let me think about it. Let’s talk about this later?I smiled and she smiled back.Rushing to work, I kept thinking about how she had beamed when I had said okay. And inside my head I was already starting to plan what I could ‘teach’ her. The opportunity that had presented itself to me drummed an excitement in me. I was being given this chance to influence a young mind and how much I could do to help her discover.I could not stop smiling to myself. Book, books, I thought. I could begin with a book. I rummaged through my bookshelf in my mind. What would an 11-year-old want to read? Maybe stories about birds or dogs? Or about women role models? Or maybe a book of short-stories. Or maybe a comic book?When I was 11, one of my uncles had given me a book. Here, he had said, presenting it to me. Pretty As You Please (365 Recipes for Young Ladies). Read it when your period comes, he had said. And it did come soon after.The book had exactly 365 chapters, beginning with what it means to be a lady. So, a lady was what a woman was not, which introduced the idea of ‘class’.The book had a list of instructions on a number of things: how a young lady should sit, how she must speak, how she must walk. A lady is never supposed to sit like a man, she must sit with her legs together. She must speak with her voice calm and low, and walk in the same manner, calmly. Never run!The book also prescribed the correct way to laugh. Do not open your mouth and laugh like boys do. Laugh softly and wave your hand before you, just so that you can hide your embarrassment a little.Years later, I had retrieved the book from a box of old things and dumped it into the carton going out to trash. i am not a pretty girl. that is not what i do.The book did have a couple of useful tips though -- exercises for menstrual cramp, and on how to ask a male friend not to touch you. But do it politely, it said. I can barely recall what else the book had, but what I do remember is that I had gobbled the book down.At that time, I heard the term ‘act like a lady’ so often in school that I was convinced that was the only way to behave. Never sit with your legs spread out. Be kind, polite and gentle—all very well, but also to male friends who touch you in ways you do not like?So, when a boy punched me, I would say ‘ow’ in pain but never retaliate. When a family friend tripped me on Holi and pinned me down to the marble floor, the cold, hardness of it stinging my back, while he put abir on my face, again, I did not retaliate.When another boy slammed my head with a water-filled balloon and when the balloon fell on the road without bursting, I merely crushed it under my feet so that he would not pick it and use it against me again. I did not pick it and throw it back at him or tell him he was being a jerk. I had to be polite, right? Even in my aggressions. That is what the book said. And I had read the book too many times.In those days, my access to books was limited to the Enid Blytons. And while mysteries were still my genre, Nancy Drew Case Files were still not allowed because she had a boyfriend. And Agatha Christie, you could read a page or two in the library, but not borrow. So yes, I read Pretty as you Please on repeat, until I knew some recipes by heart: A good girl takes care of everyone around her.It was a while before Nancy Drews and other books happened. But it was not until I turned 14 that I met Little Women. I won the book as a prize. Spelling competition. And it was then that my impulse to run was validated. It was possible to be a girl and want to only read and write and not cling to a man, like Jo March -- the girl who changed the lives of millions of young women.Over the years, though, I find myself gravitating towards the idea of Aunt March. I’ve often wished I could have one to whisk me out of certain situations, but now, I want to become one. For Jos. Maybe for Jyoti.I make a mental list of books for her. I imagine explaining books to Jyoti. I plan assignments for her. She will be rewarded with a new book every time she finishes her assignment.Her first assignment will be around A House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. When I hand her the book, I will ask her to open to the chapter, ‘A house of my own’ and ask her to read aloud:Not a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man’s houseNot a daddy’s. A house all my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my stories. My two shoes waiting beside the bed. Nobody to shake a stick at. Nobody’s garbage to pick up after. Only a house quiet as a snow, a space for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem.I surmise at Jyoti’s surprise and the sense of familiarity the words might evoke in her as she reads. I imagine she will shut the book and look at me and smile at me in acknowledgement. And I smile to myself.Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in the author’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

Write fearlessly, she said

<figure><img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd15b9c7e80680e08f8acjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Changing Stories Nepal Fellow Sangeeta Basnet teaching at Amar Secondary School in Urhari of Dang.</figcaption></figure>When I taught in a Nepali government school, the biggest problem I faced was not poor facilities. Motivated teachers don't need much beyond chalk and a blackboard. The biggest problem was that so many children studied below their grade level. In Nepal, many Grade 6 students read at Grade 3 level. Many Grade 7 students cannot add or subtract, much less multiply or divide. Students lag behind by three or four years, and not just a few students, sometimes half the class may be behind.  This is an enormous problem, made worse by Covid-19. Few schools recognise the issue, or have skills and resources to address it. Public school teachers are too busy dealing with daily challenges. Students are therefore missing the chance to learn. Nepali students fall behind for many reasons. Some come unprepared for Grade 1 or 2, others get pulled out of school temporarily and never catch up. Some attend school irregularly, or struggle. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/seven-years-in-tityang/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Seven Years in Tityang</a>, Sangmin Kim While the problems children face at home are socio-economic, the barriers at school are many: uninspiring and irregular teaching, low teacher expectations, and poor school management. Schools where students fall behind rarely have the skills or resources needed to help them catch up. Some schools give up on them, dismissing the students as not capable instead of investing more time in helping them out. Low expectations become self-fulfilling. Many students lose confidence and drop out. They decide school is not worth the time, and join their parents in earning an income for their families. Or, they stay in school and move from grade to grade, year after year. Lacking a base to build upon, they lag farther and farther behind.  In subjects like Math or English that scaffold skills one on top of another, the students often just go through the motions, copying things but not understanding, and not really learning anything. Students either fail, or they cheat to move along. Cheating is widespread. That is how high school students, despite years of study, can barely read or write in English or Nepali. Many of the students are from diverse backgrounds who speak their mother tongue at home.This is a tragedy, but also a social justice issue. Those who lag behind often come from poor families, often Dalit or ethnic minority communities. Many are girls. The solution would be to catch the problem when the children first fall behind in primary school. At that point they are only a few lessons behind their friends, not years and years, and there would still be time to build a solid base.  "It's never the students’ fault," says Niharika Mainali of Changing Stories Nepal, which was founded in 2018 with an innovative approach that builds from the premise that all students can learn, and that we wrongly blame low performing students instead of admitting we are all responsible for their lack of opportunity.Changing Stories first identifies struggling primary students. At its schools in Hetauda and Dang, it assesses literacy and numeracy to determine the 15 lowest-performing students in grades 3, 4 and 5. Then, for 90 days, the students are tutored with two hours of extra Nepali and Math, either  before or after school. <figure><img width="1365" height="2048" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd15f9c7e80680e08f8adjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/good-fellows/">Good fellows</a>, Prakriti KandelThe stress is on actual student learning, and the students are tested during and at the end of the program. Last year in Dang, the program had 20 groups of 15 students each.The remedial classes are taught by ‘Fellows’ of the organisation, who are talented, motivated college students trained by Changing Stories. While giving a helping hand to others, the young adults learn skills and experience and develop a taste for community service. "I was teaching Grade 9 near Janakpur, and found that many didn't know the English alphabet. I realised they needed an intervention long before high school," explains Mainali. "I had a good job in Kathmandu. But I often thought I could be of more service working with public schools. The privileged students I was working with didn't need me." She says schools make quick decisions about who can learn and who cannot, labeling students as incapable from a very young age. "The problem is not with the students. The students can learn, but we like to blame students for everything," she adds.In Dang at the start of the year, only 37% of students could read simple words, and only 18% could read a 4-sentence paragraph. At the program's end, 81% could read words, and 66% could read short sentences.In baseline math tests, only 9% could do two-digit addition problems. After the program, 87% could. Fewer than 1% of students could solve a 2-digit carry-over subtraction problem, or multiply. Afterwards, about half could do both. <figure><img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd1629c7e80680e08f8aejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/digital-divide-exposes-class-divide-in-nepal-schools/">Digital divide exposes class divide in Nepal schools</a>, Nunuta RaiChanging Stories recorded similar progress in Hetauda, and have just started another year in Dang. The program seems like a fantastic bargain: for 90 sessions of 2-hour classes, each Fellow earns Rs14,000.Training costs and staff support add a little. But imagine the benefits, and compare them with the costs: students sitting in classrooms year after year not learning--a lifetime of underachievement.On a visit to Dang last year, I saw for myself why Changing Stories gets results. In a carpeted classroom painted in cheerful colours with student work on display, a Changing Stories Fellow worked with students on subtraction problems.She explained concepts with piles of सिन्का (small bamboo sticks) sitting on the floor next to her students. She smiled, but pushed when necessary. She believed in the children even though many others had abandoned hope.A Grade 4 student told me: "I like this class. Miss teaches well. If I don't understand, she shows me." Another student said, "Before I knew only addition, now I know subtraction. Now it comes easily."  I could see and hear the pride and self-confidence in these children.Tom Robertson, PhD is a historian and creator of the मिठो लेखाइ videos on writing technique. He taught in Nepal’s government schools as a Peace Corps volunteer in Khotang from 1993-1995.

Nepal’s class divide

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101144/636a259f9c7e80680e0439d1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1250" height="783"/><figcaption>Singha Darbar</figcaption></figure>The news that no student went to enroll for graduate studies at the History Department of Tribhuvan University is disturbing. How can anyone not love <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/the-rest-is-history-for-john-whelpton/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">history </a>in a country so steeped in it? All those colourful characters, events, places, plots, wars, treaties, have inspired so much research and books.We have not even begun to scratch the surface of what we can turn our history into. Imagine a tele-serial movie with Jung Bahadur or Tripura Sundari as the main protagonists? How about an animated classic about Bhrikuti or <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-life-and-times-of-arniko/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Arniko </a>and their expeditions and adventures to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/on-a-high-note/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tibet </a>and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/what-china-really-wants/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">China</a>. Perhaps this is the problem: our history text books and teachers are boring, and the exams that rely on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">rote memorization</a> rather than understanding the annals of the past are the last nails on the History Department’s coffin.The future of the new airport at <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lumbinis-unholy-mess/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lumbini </a>depends on how well we know and tell the history of Gautam Buddha, his nativity site and the lore surrounding it. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/janakpur-to-janakpur/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Janakpur </a>is going to prosper as the home of Sita and the links to Ram and his birthplace across the border in Ayodhya.Many of the newly created 753 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/trickledown-corruption/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">local governments</a> could become financially viable by reviving their historical sites, creating the needed infrastructure and services for visitors, and organising annual trips for schools and colleges. Without any students in the History Department where will we get the needed human capital for this work?We are missing out even on Nepal’s recent political history. Who will now conduct research and tell the story of how the Kosi Barrage came to be, and why it was a folly. The story of Nepal’s early attempts at <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Economic-Class/waiting-for-an-industrial-revolution,784" target="_blank" rel="noopener">industrialisation </a>with Biratnagar Jute Mill is worth a museum. And across Nepal are ruins of The Gorkha Conquest and the Ango-Nepal Wars that can be restored and serve as historical landmarks.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lest-we-forget/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lest we forget</a>, David SeddonHow many Nepalis are aware that Rana Mukteswar and Bhim Mukteswar in Kathmandu are where King Rana Bahadur Shah and Prime Minister Bhimsen Thapa died? Have you recently been to Hanuman Dhoka and noticed the state of the courtyard where the Kot massacre took place? Will we forget and loose these sites because no one wants to study history anymore?In the absence of academic discourse, the narrative on social media is swayed by emotion and identity. History as it is taught in high school text books is being challenged. What really happened in Kirtipur in 1767? How did Nepal negotiate the 1816 Sugauli Treaty? How did the Mallas come to power and how were the Kirats and Lichavis displaced? Is there a market for a ‘people’s history of Nepal’? Our history books today have no mention of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/remembering-not-to-forget-peoples-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">1996-2006 conflict</a>.The time may be right to make the History Department attractive to students by combining it with other related subjects like <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/guiding-nepals-tourism-industry/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">tourism</a>, art and craft, museums, research academies, planning commissions. This will help make history learning the base from which students can branch out to more lucrative jobs. What can’t we teach Japanese and Korean history to those going to these countries for work?Can we teach the history and language of the Gulf states as the new wave of more qualified Nepalis will begin to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/changing-the-headlines-on-migration/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">migrate </a>to the region? We could even run special classes on the war history of Nepal and other parts of the world where Nepali <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepal-from-war-makers-to-peace-keepers,2565" target="_blank" rel="noopener">peacekeepers </a>will be assigned.  Nepal Army could even pay the History Department for this service.Identity politics is here to stay and the provinces and local governments will have to incorporate a new curriculum that includes the histories of the local people in addition to Nepal’s national narrative. This is a lot of work, and we will need to train teachers and print books. Much of this can happen on-line, which means there is a good future for learning and teaching history.Ward 16 of Patan is organising an art and culture festival on 27-31 March where it hopes to promote the world heritage site, famous temples like the Hiranya Varna Mahavihar (Golden Temple) and the creations of the numerous artists who live and work here. They are looking for historians to help in this task.Anil Chitrakar is President of Siddharthinc

Anil Chitrakar

The end of history

India and Pakistan are twins separated at birth. Tensions between them have been at a hair trigger ever since independence and has erupted into full scale conflict at least four times in the past 80 years.
The 22 April terrorist attack in Kashmir that killed 25 Indian tourists and a Nepali citizen, threatens to escalate tension between the two nuclear-armed nations. India has squarely blamed Pakistan for the attacks, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi has given his military “operational freedom” to respond. Pakistan has said it has credible intelligence of an Indian military strike and its officials have promised a “full spectrum” response — a code for a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/thinking-the-thinkable">nuclear retaliation</a>.
For Nepal, the killing of its national in the Pahalgam attack comes as another stark reminder that in conflicts from Afghanistan to Iraq, from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-to-agree-an-armistice-in-ukraine">Ukraine</a> to Israel, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/10-nepalis-from-one-town-fighting-in-ukraine">Nepalis are getting caught in the crossfire</a>. The last time full-scale fighting broke out between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/peacemongers-at-india-pakistan-border">India and Pakistan</a> on Kargil in 1999, at least 22<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-trial-by-fire-for-soldiers-from-nepal?%27%5C%22="> Nepalis fighting for the Indian Army</a> were killed in action.
Three of Nepal’s immediate neighbours (China, India, Pakistan) have nuclear weapons, and they do not have good relations. With China supplying weapons, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/war-and-warming">missile technology</a> and other support to Pakistan, this triangular friction could set off a regional conflagration.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43016-022-00573-0" target="_blank">Research at Rutgers University</a> has calculated that even a week-long tactical nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan would throw up so much smoke and debris into the atmosphere that it would block out the sun for years, and lead to a collapse of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/grow-nourish-sustain-together-world-food-day">global food system</a>. This does not take into account the radioactive fallout that prevailing winds would blow up to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">the Himalaya</a>, contaminating glaciers that are the sources of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">Asia’s main rivers</a>.
The impact of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>on High Asia was already ringing alarm bells about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">shrinking ice cap</a> reducing the dry season flow of water downstream. Water was going to be the next strategic commodity, geopolitical experts warned, and the next wars in Asia would be over water.
That water war is already happening. India retaliated to the Kashmir attack by suspending the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/24/world/asia/india-pakistan-indus-waters-treaty.html" target="_blank">Indus Waters Treaty</a> of 1960 mediated by the World Bank that has withstood at least three wars between India and Pakistan. The treaty gives India control over the three eastern tributaries of the Indus (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beas_River" target="_blank">Beas</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravi_River" target="_blank">Ravi</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sutlej" target="_blank">Sutlej</a>), while Pakistan got water from the Indus and two of its western tributaries (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indus_River" target="_blank">Indus</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chenab_River" target="_blank">Chenab</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jhelum_River" target="_blank">Jhelum</a>.
Pakistan was assured of 70% of the annual flow, and India could use a reasonable amount of water for<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15231"> irrigation and hydropower</a>. &nbsp;Within days of its threat, India stopped water flowing down to Pakistan from the Chenab river and is reportedly preparing to do the same on the Jhelum.
The sabre-rattling has reached a crescendo. Besides threats and counter-threats there are also symbolic drills, with the Indian Air Force practicing landing on an expressway in Uttar Pradesh by its Rafale, Su-30 and Jaguar fighter jets to demonstrate ‘operational readiness’. In response Pakistan test-fired its Abdali ballistic missile that can carry a nuclear warhead and has a range of 450km.&nbsp;
The danger is that with ultra-nationalist rhetoric and the beating the war drums by both sides, India’s government and Pakistan’s military may have to ‘do something’ to appease domestic public opinion. But any tactical strike, an artillery exchange, or territorial incursion could quickly escalate out of control.
Expecting an Indian retaliation for the Pahalgam killings, Pakistan is using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/interfaith-collaboration-for-nuclear-disarmament"> nuclear deterrence </a>and warning of “catastrophic consequences”. The two neighbours came close to a nuclear exchange in 2019 after an attack on the Indian military in Kashmir, and prompt international intervention led by the United States cooled tensions.&nbsp;
This time, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">Trump administration</a> is too distracted and not as engaged. Pakistan has denied it was responsible for the terrorist attack and called on Washington to stop a possible Indian retaliation. India and Pakistan have stopped overflights by each other’s airlines, and some international carriers have even stopped flying over Pakistan fearing an air war.
Washington, Beijing, the UN and the EU have all urged restraint. Iran, which has good relations with both India and Pakistan has sent its foreign minister to urge both countries not to go into a tit-for-tat war. Iran has its own nuclear flashpoint to worry about with tensions in Israel, &nbsp;Yemen and Syria.
India and Pakistan both share similar problems of joblessness, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-nepal-s-poverty-rate-is-stuck">poverty </a>and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-change-new-threat-to-nepal-s-rhinos">environmental threats</a>. Neither side needs the threat of a senseless war, and we in the neighbourhood do not need it either.&nbsp;
Kunda Dixit
This Editorial is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

Nukes in the neighbourhood

The streets of Patan are alive this month with lavender jacaranda trees under rain-washed skies as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the chariot of Rato Matsyendranath</a> is pulled across town. This is the festival of the rain god, and inevitably the heavens opened up and pre-monsoon showers pelted the chariot as it started being pulled in Pulchok last week. Thousands of devotees, onlookers and the chariot procession organisers thronged the streets on the first day last week. The rhythmic cymbals and drums exuded a vibrant energy as the enormous four wheels turned and the chariot lurched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  The<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141"> red rain god</a> has Hindu and Buddhist antecedents, alternatively called Bungadya and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival"> Karunamaya</a> — reflecting Kathmandu Valley’s syncretic mixture of the two religions.&nbsp; “Bungadya is a profoundly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/marketing-the-intangible">intangible form of heritage</a>,” explains heritage expert Monalisa Maharjan. “It embodies traditional knowledge,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/reviving-nepal-s-craft"> artisanal skills passed down through generations</a>. Local communities and specific families have specified roles in being custodians of the heritage, ensuring their survival over the centuries.” There are many legends and stories about this annual tradition. Lichhavi king Narendra Dev is supposed to have brought Rato Matsyendranath from Assam to Kathmandu Valley to convince Guru Gorakhnath to lift a spell that created a two-year drought in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Matsyendranath was Gorakhnath’s mentor, and upon seeing him, the serpents were released, unleashing the rains. The chariot festival honours the return of this life-giving rain. The deity is seen as an icon for thriving agriculture, t<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">he arrival of monsoon</a> showers, and the welfare of the community. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain">The reign of the god of rain</a>, Vidhu Prakash Kayastha Till this day, the Rato Matsyendranath festival is no ordinary celebration. Patan does not sleep for a month as the chariot is pulled through various neighbourhoods. It unfolds at a state level with the president (formerly the king) attending the climax of the Bhoto Jatra in Jawalakhel later this month.&nbsp; The intergenerational transmission of tradition is unique in the world, and the reason the festival is one of the most vibrant cultural expressions that thrives despite inroads of modernity. The other unique aspect is that it is a transnational festival, binding Patan with Guwahati in the Indian state of Assam.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  “Unlike Nepal, where the deity commands grandeur and devotion, many in Assam are unaware of Rato Matsyendranath,” says Khagen Sharma of Gauhati University, which convened <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived">a symposium in February in Guwahati on the rain god</a>. Attending was a delegation led by Lalitpur Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan, organisers of the festival, and builders of the chariot. After the symposium, a committee was formed to explore and revive the tradition in Assam as well. Although the team had planned to visit Nepal this month, logistical challenges delayed the trip. Still, there are plans to build a Guru Matsyendranath statue in Assam to reestablish regular worship practices in the Guwahati shrine.&nbsp; The vines used to build the chariot in Patan are sourced from the jungles of Assam. But Sharma notes that in recent years unclear regulations have blocked the official import of the vines, although they are still brought to Nepal informally. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">chariot making</a> has also had a taste of modernisation in recent times. In the past, even a single nail or piece of steel was avoided. But over time, the wooden structure, particularly the shaft between the wheels, has been replaced with bronze. When that too proved unstable, metal clamps were introduced, which have become a pragmatic compromise.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Another welcome change is the focus on safety. Builders climbing the chariot’s tower now wear harnesses and there are efforts in crowd control. The most visible change in recent years has been the involvement of Patan’s enthusiastic youth in the festival — the tradition is now passing to a new generation. Says Matsyendranath expert Vidhu Kayastha: “There is more energy, the young people in red t-shirts this year were very organised, these modern touches aren’t diluting our culture, they’re keeping it alive in new forms.” He adds, “We are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">reconnecting with our roots</a>, we have more resources, more awareness than ever before. We must not be swept away by western values that may not serve us, and in some ways, cause more harm than good. We must revive our own culture.”&nbsp;

Divine chariot

In 2025, two seemingly disconnected acts of violence shattered the illusion of stability in the region. In March, <a href="https://www.ft.com/content/16f7f947-1e96-4206-9844-891378adc683" target="_blank">militants hijacked a passenger train</a> near the Bolan Pass in Balochistan, executing soldiers in cold blood. A month later, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/22/world/asia/kashmir-terrorist-attack.html" target="_blank">gunmen in Kashmir’s</a> Pahalgam Valley massacred tourists. 
In both Islamabad and New Delhi, <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/4/25/were-cursed-kashmiris-under-attack-across-india-after-pahalgam-killings" target="_blank">the reaction was reflexive:</a> condemn the violence, <a href="https://www.economist.com/asia/2025/04/22/india-and-pakistan-could-come-to-blows-over-kashmir" target="_blank">blame external enemies</a>, declare the situation contained. But South Asia’s leaders are not fighting terrorists alone. They are fighting the consequences of their own betrayals.
Across <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-26272897" target="_blank">Balochistan</a>, <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-south-asia-11693674" target="_blank">Kashmir</a>, <a href="https://www.crisisgroup.org/asia/south-asia/india/346-finding-way-out-festering-conflict-indias-manipur" target="_blank">Manipur</a>, and beyond, decades of <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/en/projects/enforced-disappearance-in-south-asia/" target="_blank">enforced disappearances</a>, broken promises, and brute militarisation have hollowed out the social contracts meant to hold these nations together. The grievances that drove rebellions from the 1940s through the 1990s – demands for dignity, recognition, and political agency – were never meaningfully addressed. They were buried beneath asphalt and propaganda, paved over by development projects and security checkpoints.
States may claim victory. But their victories are mirages, dissolving the moment anyone looks too closely. South Asia’s unfinished wars are not relics of a violent past. They are live ammunition, loaded into the future.
<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/mar/24/he-only-wanted-revenge-the-bloody-insurgency-in-balochistan-gaining-lethal-momentum" target="_blank">Balochistan</a> has been at war with Pakistan for most of its modern history. Rich in gas, minerals, and coastline, the province has been plundered for decades under the language of national development. 
Projects like the <a href="https://eastasiaforum.org/2020/11/26/pakistans-three-evils-cpec-and-good-governance/" target="_blank">China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC)</a> promise progress but deliver exclusion: minerals are mined, ports are secured, but Baloch homes are raided. 
The insurgency endures not because of foreign conspiracies, as Islamabad endlessly insists, but because the Pakistani state remains incapable of seeing its <a href="https://thebalochistanpost.net/2025/01/enforced-disappearances-in-balochistan-in-december-2024-tbp-report/" target="_blank">Baloch citizens</a> as anything other than a security problem to be managed.
In <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/ranisingh/2016/07/12/kashmir-in-the-worlds-most-militarized-zone-violence-after-years-of-comparative-calm/" target="_blank">Kashmir</a>, the Indian government claims to have <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/08/world/asia/kashmir-village-defense-committees.html" target="_blank">“normalised” the valley</a> after revoking its autonomy in 2019. It <a href="https://www.cfr.org/global-conflict-tracker/conflict/conflict-between-india-and-pakistan" target="_blank">looks a lot like occupation</a>. Soldiers outnumber local leaders, dissent is criminalised, internet shutdowns suffocate public life. Tourism campaigns and investment summits cannot erase a generation raised under curfew and surveillance.
<a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-66260730" target="_blank">Manipur’s descent into ethnic bloodshed</a> in 2023 exposed another fault line Delhi prefers to ignore. Long-simmering tensions between the Meitei and Kuki communities erupted into violence that shattered any illusions of northeastern integration. The central government’s delayed, politicised response made clear what many Manipuris had always suspected: they are citizens of India only when convenient.
Even the <a href="https://msf.org.au/rohingya-worlds-largest-stateless-population" target="_blank">Rohingya, stateless and exiled from Myanmar</a>, find themselves entangled in South Asia’s ethnonationalist calculus. Fleeing genocide, they are criminalised anew in Bangladesh and India – trapped between the countries that reject them and the memories that refuse to let them go.
South Asia’s states have excelled at suppressing rebellion. But failed at extinguishing the reasons rebellions rise in the first place. And the wars South Asia tries to forget at home have found new life abroad.
Across <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-06-17/modis-indian-government-accused-of-spying-silencing-critics/103974414" target="_blank">Canada, Australia, Britain, and the United States</a>, diasporic communities have become memory-keepers and, increasingly, <a href="https://www.business-standard.com/world-news/khalistan-supporters-hold-protest-outside-indian-consulate-in-vancouver-123092600087_1.html" target="_blank">the agitators</a> for the struggles their home states would rather erase.
Khalistan flags fly outside Indian consulates in Vancouver and <a href="https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/punjab/perturbed-over-waving-of-khalistani-flags-at-an-event-in-melbourne-india-warns-australia-of-khalistan-separatists-and-their-links-with-terror-groups-458320/" target="_blank">Melbourne</a>. Tamil activists march through London, demanding accountability for the <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/5/19/grim-reminder-sri-lankas-tamils-mark-15-years-since-end-of-civil-war" target="_blank">massacres in Mullivaikkal</a>. Kashmiri protests in Washington and New York refuse to let India’s crackdown slip into diplomatic amnesia.
For host countries, these movements pose uncomfortable questions. Freedom of expression collides with fears of extremism. Clashes erupt between communities carrying wounds that their new homelands.
Meanwhile, South Asian states pursue their adversaries across borders. India faces allegations of <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/canada-says-india-home-minister-ordered-campaign-against-sikh-activist-rcna177972" target="_blank">targeting Sikh activists for assassination in Canada</a> and the <a href="https://www.npr.org/2024/10/27/g-s1-29561/sikh-separatist-assassination-india" target="_blank">United States</a>. Pakistan continues to court Kashmiri separatists abroad while crushing Baloch dissent at home. <a href="https://apnews.com/article/sri-lanka-tamils-civil-war-dead-5b372b0bba567837c5a4d94250040e7d" target="_blank">Sri Lanka</a> lobbies furiously to brand Tamil diaspora organisations as fronts for terrorism, even as it stonewalls investigations into its own wartime atrocities.
The old insurgencies have not been defeated. They have been globalised. South Asia’s governments have long mistaken silence for stability.
In Punjab, India broke the back of the <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2023/10/06/india/india-canada-sikh-khalistan-analysis-intl-hnk/index.html" target="_blank">Khalistan insurgency</a> through brute force. The fields grew green again, the trains ran on time. But the wounds were never closed, the <a href="https://www.dw.com/en/why-is-indias-khalistan-separatist-movement-on-the-rise/a-65081729" target="_blank">movement’s heart beats</a> not in Amritsar but in Brampton and Surrey.
In Sri Lanka, the <a href="https://www.academia.edu/4738983/The_Man_Who_Destroyed_Eelam" target="_blank">military crushed the Tamil Tigers</a> with <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2011/01/17/death-of-the-tiger" target="_blank">overwhelming brutality in 2009</a>. <a href="https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/politics/article/3264148/we-want-our-children-back-sri-lankan-families-still-demanding-justice-their-missing-loved-ones" target="_blank">Tamil families still search for their missing</a>, still mourn their dead – and still organise across the diaspora for justice that remains undelivered.
In Kashmir, Delhi boasts of new <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/opinions/2023/2/4/kashmir-is-bleeding-its-economy" target="_blank">highways and investment corridors</a>, showcasing the region as a trophy of unity. But when the visitors leave and the cameras are packed away, <a href="https://harvardlawreview.org/print/vol-134/from-domicile-to-dominion-indias-settler-colonial-agenda-in-kashmir/" target="_blank">the checkpoints, the raids, and the quiet despair remain.</a>
Victory parades fade. Grievance endures. Suppressing insurgency may end battles. It does not end the ideas that fueled them. In a region where <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/23/world/asia/kashmir-attack-india-pakistan.html" target="_blank">history is rarely past</a>, and memory is rarely voluntary, states that rule through repression are only ever buying time. And often, not very much.
South Asia’s unfinished wars are not accidents. They are the inevitable consequences of states that confuse conquest with consent, and erasure with reconciliation. They cannot legislate memory out of existence.
Every <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c15qyyzz89lo" target="_blank">disappeared son in Balochistan</a>, every <a href="https://medium.com/the-wvoice/the-half-widows-in-kashmir-fef80c6b88e9" target="_blank">half-widow in Kashmir</a>, every <a href="https://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/what-we-do/focus/rohingya-refugee-crisis" target="_blank">refugee child born stateless in a Rohingya camp</a> carries forward the memory of betrayal – a memory that outlives soldiers, politicians, and peace accords alike.
The region’s future will not be decided by GDP figures or infrastructure projects alone. It will be decided by whether its governments can summon the political courage to face the truths they have long suppressed – or whether they will continue down a path <a href="https://theconversation.com/india-is-using-the-g20-summit-to-further-its-settler-colonial-ambitions-in-kashmir-205166" target="_blank">where forgetting is demanded</a>, and rebellion becomes inevitable.
Shyam Tekwani is a professor at the Daniel K. Inouye Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies in Hawaii. This <a href="https://dkiapcss.edu/nexus_articles/ghosts-at-the-border-south-asias-unfinished-wars/" target="_blank">article</a> was originally published on <a href="https://dkiapcss.edu/security-nexus/" target="_blank">DKI APCSS Security Nexus.</a> The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of DKI APCSS, the Department of Defense, or the US Government. The appearance of external hyperlinks does not constitute endorsement by the United States Department of Defense (DoD) of the linked websites, or the information, products, or services contained therein. DoD does not exercise any editorial, security, or other control over the information you may find at these sites.

Balochistan to Kashmir

Most Nepalis thought they had seen the last of it after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/11-56-25-april-2015-wkc9q2an">the 25 April 7.8 magnitude </a>earthquake ten years ago. But the Himalaya had more surprises in store. On 12 May, another 7.3 magnitude tremor that some said was an aftershock, but was strong enough to itself be a major earthquake, struck Dolakha.&nbsp; Not many people had heard of Singati till then — a cluster of houses by the Tama Kosi River along a narrow gorge that is the roadhead to Rolwaling Valley.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  It was here that dozens were killed on 25 April in the first earthquake. Hundreds of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati-rising-from-rubble-rebuilding,3703">Singati survivors</a> had lined up for food and relief supplies in the morning of 12 May when the second earthquake triggered a rock slide that buried a nearby camp. At least 50 people were killed. &nbsp; Three hours later, a US Marine Corps UH-1Y Venom helicopter landed in a nearby cornfield to pick up the wounded, and flew off. The aircraft lost contact with air traffic control in Kathmandu and its wreckage was located high on Kalinchok four days later. Six American servicemen, two Nepal Army soldiers, and five wounded civilians from Singati were killed. Today, Singati bears little physical scar of the multiple tragedies that struck the town ten years ago. Most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">houses have been rebuilt</a> as urban-style concrete structures, and Singati has become an economic hub on the road leading up to several hydropower plants and a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/off-the-beaten-trek-in-nepal"> popular trekking destination</a>.&nbsp; The town looks less like a village and more like a suburb of the Dolakha district headquarter of Charikot, 47km away.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  “The demand for construction material, cement, iron rods and bricks peaked after the earthquakes,” says Suresh Khadka, who owns a hardware business here and now supplies material to the 456MW Upper Tama Kosi hydropower project that is undergoing repairs after it was damaged by a landslide last year. The demand for cement boomed since most residents believe, not necessarily correctly, that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">cement houses are safer</a>. Although Khadka did well selling construction material after the earthquake, he worries that most new structures do not follow seismic-resistant building codes.&nbsp; The construction boom financed by bank loans has in turn forced many from Singati to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">migrate overseas for work</a> so they can service their debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Suresh Khadka</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Phu Doma Sherpa (right)</figcaption> </figure>  “My family had no choice but to borrow money to rebuild our home since the government compensation was not enough, and ten years later we are still paying off the loan,” says Phu Doma Sherpa, 60. Because of the shortage of qualified masons and proper seismic engineering, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/structural-problems">many of the buildings are of questionable building standards </a>and the traditional architecture has been abandoned, admits Kul Bahadur Budathoki, deputy chair of the municipality. “But these buildings were more expensive than what the government grants could cover, many people here are heavily in debt and the men have <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/every-day-is-closer-to-pay-day">migrated to the Gulf to pay their loans</a>,” Budathoki says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1079" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Kul Bahadur Budathoki</figcaption> </figure>  Singati is in a multi-hazard zone. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati,3091">12 May 2015 earthquake </a>could have led to the collapse of Nepal’s largest glacial lake, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/stairway-to-heaven">Tso Rolpa</a>, upstream. Due to global warming, the glacier has turned into an expanding lake 3.5km long, and its collapse would have unleashed a catastrophic Himalayan tsunami down the Tama Kosi Valley, with Singati directly in its path. Singati has literally risen from the ashes of 2015, with its residents beginning to recover from the trauma and financial toll. But it is not out of danger as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>magnifies the risk from future earthquakes.