Ramprit Yadav was a ranger in the late 1960s before Chitwan National Park was even established. He later became the first warden of Nepal’s first national park in 1973, one that he helped survey. Those were the days when national parks were defined as wilderness areas with no human settlements, but Chitwan’s jungles were the home of the Tharu and other indigenous groups. The village of Padampur with 10,000 people, mostly Tharu, was relocated. The very people who had relied on the forest and protected it for generations were kept out. Ramprit Yadav remembers that when his team surveyed the Chitwan National Park 55 years ago, he did so without consulting the Tharu. “That was a mistake,” he says now. “I was 22 years old and had a theoretical knowledge of plants from college, but everything else about biodiversity I learnt later from the Tharu of Chitwan.” The Tharu had over generations learnt to sustainably manage their jungle, grassland and wetland habitat, taking only what they needed and allowing nature sufficient time to regenerate. When they were removed from the national park, it was not just the Tharu who suffered but also the nature they had helped preserve. The Tharu of Old Padampur had been farming on the flatlands for generations by creating a canal from the Chure Hills to the south. The traditional irrigation system brought down not just water but vegetation that fertilised their fields. After using the water they needed, they let the rest flow out, replenishing the wetlands that was an important habitat for rhinos and birds. In spring, the Tharu dug small ponds inside the forest to capture rainwater and raise fish. This practice also helped recharge the groundwater. But after 1973, the park put a stop to this, and ponds dried up. The number of rhinos dropped dramatically after Padampur was evacuated primarily because of the deterioriation of the wetlands, and later after 2003 when the park was expanded to the east and there was an increase in poaching. Bal Singh Chaudhary, 84, remembers that the ponds themselves were a favourite wallow for rhinos. “I used to see between 15-20 rhinos in one pond, but after we stopped using the ponds the rhinos were gone.” Today, park nature guide Ram Giri Chaudhary says it is difficult to even find one or two rhinos in what used to be the ponds. Paugi Chaudhary, a 70-year-old resident of Old Padampur, remembers as a boy bringing in up to 15kg of fish and 25kg of snail (ghonghi) from the family paddy fields. “All that came to an end after our relocation,” he says.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024081512088_260b0e2ac61e75678af678f485606e2a9b3fdf75455bd19f7ff5a949ffb736a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024081512088_260b0e2ac61e75678af678f485606e2a9b3fdf75455bd19f7ff5a949ffb736a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1056" height="640" loading="lazy" alt="Parks plus people"></figure>  Before being evicted, Tharu villages used to have up to 400 cattle that grazed in the grasslands along the Rapti floodplain. Grasslands made up 20% of the park area in 1973, but today it is down to 6%. The reason is that the Tharu had a sustainable way of using the grasslands for grazing and harvesting reed and thatch to maintain their homes and the temporary huts they built by the Rapti River. In winter, they set fire to the reed which allowed green shoots to sprout, fertilised by the nutrient rich ash. The park allowed the Tharu and resettled farmers from the mountains to cut and burn the grass for 15 days every year, but this practice was stopped during the Maoist conflict. “The condition of the grasslands in the national park was better where the grass used to be burnt rather than when it is cut by machine,” explains Aashis Gurung of the National Trust for Nature Conservation (NTNC). The decline in grasslands has affected the population of native and migratory birds like the Bengal Florican, Lesser Florican, Slender-bellied Babbler, and Jerdon’s Babbler. When the grassland area fell, so did the insect population. The ban on grazing removed the dung that used to fertilise the soil and allowed insects to proliferate in the siru grasslands. And with the insects gone, the birds had nothing to eat. Park officials at the time did not grasp this cycle of sustainability in which the Tharu people were a crucial part. Chitwan’s wetlands and grasslands are now much reduced, affecting the population of rhino, deer and other wildlife. Part of the credit for Nepal’s success in tripling its wild tiger population goes to the indigenous people of Chitwan, whose descendants now suffer disproportionately from wildlife attacks and crop damage in the fringes of the park where they were resettled in 1973. Birendra Mahato is an elected member of the Ratnanagar Municipality Ward 6 and Founder Chair of the Tharu Culture Museum Research Centre in Sauraha.

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Parks plus people

Patan Museum is a repository of Kathmandu Valley heritage, but in its gallery wing is a temporary multimedia exhibition devoted to the indigenous Tharu people of Nepal’s southern plains.&nbsp; As the largest ethnic group in the Tarai, and because of their connection to US-funded malaria eradication in the 1960s, trans-migration of mountain dwellers to their forests in the Rapti Valley, as well as the Maoist conflict, the impact on the Tharu has been extensively analysed. But most of this research has come from non-Tharu academics. Now, the exhibition Daule Daule aims to highlight the history, culture and inter-generational knowledge and skills of the Tharu people by the Tharu themselves. “Exhibitions about the Tharu community were mostly from other people and sometimes they gave <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/5-myths-about-the-tharu">wrong information</a>,” says Birendra Mahato, one of the curators. “We thought it was important to tell our stories on our own.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709034_e78efaffd168f3d150ed3afdc0c41d7429f09f9d4a26687e9a9559bb36058dbe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024032709034_e78efaffd168f3d150ed3afdc0c41d7429f09f9d4a26687e9a9559bb36058dbe" data-rendition-name="original" width="5435" height="3623" loading="lazy" alt="Daule daule"> </figure>  The exhibition starts with a section dedicated to the Tharu women because it is the women who carry forward the culture. Says another curator Lavkant Chaudhary: “When you enter a Tharu village women are the first people you see and even inside the house from cooking to medicine, they are the ones who have the responsibility.” Indeed, the very first photograph by Vivek Chaudhary is of Tharu women walking on a foggy morning in Dang with firewood balanced on their heads. Other images play with the same theme: women carrying a water pitcher, grass, baskets.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709034_f398e9467dfd175f507f34cd5e6bfbfff923f74a467e021ebb8529ca3b9ae5c8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024032709034_f398e9467dfd175f507f34cd5e6bfbfff923f74a467e021ebb8529ca3b9ae5c8" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Daule Daule"> </figure>  Tharu women are perceived to be freer and more empowered because they do not face gender restrictions prevalent among Nepal’s other ethnic groups. Researchers have even called Tharu society matriarchal.&nbsp; Indu Tharu in her note accompanying the photographs begs to disagree. She writes that Tharu women are not so much free as ‘persistent’. They &nbsp;women still need a husband's permission to decide matters, and the Tharu are not matriarchal unless matriarchy means ‘leaving parent’s house and staying at the husband's house after marriage … or giving birth to as many babies as the family wishes … or until a son is born’.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_05c859c3ed5461b358647a8cc0630a96e9d0da7c6ad15f2517cdda1be4c0feb1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024032709030_05c859c3ed5461b358647a8cc0630a96e9d0da7c6ad15f2517cdda1be4c0feb1" data-rendition-name="original" width="5113" height="3409" loading="lazy" alt="daule daule"> </figure>  Tharu women are often photographed in full traditional regalia of ornaments. But the exhibition has pictures of Tharu women working at home, in fields and participating in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-karjahi-movement">political movements</a> from the abolishment of the Kamaiya and Kamlari system to the Tharuhat movement, showing their resistance.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_b55a2b2c289871e199e1eed2f95293fc01ab7d3c71c049d496e8a20a46613cc9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024032709030_b55a2b2c289871e199e1eed2f95293fc01ab7d3c71c049d496e8a20a46613cc9" data-rendition-name="original" width="5911" height="3941" loading="lazy" alt="daule daule"> </figure>  In the corner of the exhibition hangs a painting of a Tharu woman, Parbati Chaudhary with her baby on her back. During the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tikapur-s-protracted-trauma">Tikapur riots</a>, Parbati’s husband, who has a disability, was also apprehended by the police. Parbati then joined the movement carrying her baby with her. The photos from the movements and the painting serve as a reminder of the historical injustices in the hands of the state.&nbsp; Tharu women are now venturing into fields that were once male-dominated. There are photos of female mahouts bathing elephants, showing the continuity of the human-animal relationship that the Tharus traditionally practiced.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_4fd80ef1e2f427c02bb83a614234c3be7ddb0b23bf775bb117f2453f885733bf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2024032709030_4fd80ef1e2f427c02bb83a614234c3be7ddb0b23bf775bb117f2453f885733bf" data-rendition-name="original" width="4917" height="3278" loading="lazy" alt="Daule Daule"> </figure>  Also included in the exhibition are photos of body art that adorns the back, hands and legs of the Tharu women. In the community, tattooing is a skill passed to daughter by their mothers and is not only an art form but is also used as therapy, the belief that it eases pain.&nbsp; “Tattoos are not only an important way of sharing inter-generational knowledge but there is also a belief that when one dies, the tattoo travels into the afterlife,” explains Lavkant Chaudhary.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_95fb44a92c69e6d87cf7014afaa25a05755390dd9608b39cb3c52bb2a770d862.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2024032709030_95fb44a92c69e6d87cf7014afaa25a05755390dd9608b39cb3c52bb2a770d862" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Daule daule"> </figure>  One wall of the gallery is festooned with fishing nets and tools, providing a glimpse of the Tharu lifestyle in forests, grasslands and rivers. With changing times, traditional Tharu fishing areas are protected, threatening a way of life and the skills and knowledge amassed through generations. Most of Tharu activities are collective, and are sustainable. They do not fish alone, the women go to the forests in groups to collect clay which they beat into pottery. This skill is dying which is why photographic documentation is so important.&nbsp; The curatorial team is later planning on taking the exhibition to other parts of Nepal as well. Younger generations of Tharus who grew up in the capital and non-Tharus not able to visit the Tharu museum in Chitwan will learn a lot from this show. Daule Daule&nbsp; Curated by Birendra Mahato, Indu Tharu, Sanjib Chaudhary, Lavkant Chaudhary, Arnab Chaudhary, Maria Bossert and Tom Robertson&nbsp; Patan Museum, Until 31 March

The Tharu story by the Tharu

The Tharu made up 6.2% of Nepal’s population in the 2021 census in 2021, outnumbering other indigenous communities: the Tamang, Newa, Limbu and Gurung peoples.&nbsp; The rest of the country has just begun to learn about the unique history and heritage of the Tharu people, the important role they play in Nepal’s conservation as well as increasing engagement in national politics. But the rich tradition of Tharu songs and music are less well known. There are songs for every occasion: Maagar songs for auspicious occasions, Barkimar and Sakhiya dances for Dasain, Dhamar and Maghauta for Maghi.&nbsp; The Tharu people traditionally live along the malarial jungles along Nepal’s southern plains bordering India. But from east to west there is great diversity among the Tharu people and language, and this is reflected in their songs. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bridging-the-andes-and-himalaya-with-music">Bridging the Andes and Himalaya with music</a>, Sewa Bhattarai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023073109070_17ec0ecf90ae76f4a7d1eba7bf1f6e5de4b13b6813314121d0adcb1ee669da64.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023073109070_17ec0ecf90ae76f4a7d1eba7bf1f6e5de4b13b6813314121d0adcb1ee669da64" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Songlines of the rivers and forests NT"> </figure>  With YouTube and social media, some genres of Tharu music are going commercial and gaining popularity. But others languish in obscurity. For instance, Jhumra is a genre of songs sung during Dasain and other fun moments have become popular on the Internet. It used to be only men who sang and danced the Jhumra. Although the Tharu community does have occasions for women to dance, those are celebrations rather than performances.&nbsp; For example, all girls of the village are allowed to sway to group dances like Sakhiya and Barkimar. But, Jhumra is more of a performance where only two people dance for the entertainment of the rest. “Parents have no problems if girls dance to Sakhiya and Barkimar, because everyone is dancing. But they hesitate to let girls perform the Jhumra,” explains Basanti Chaudhary of Dang, a commercial singer from the community. “Men even used to dress up as women to perform that dance.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The last of the Kusunda</a>, Sewa Bhattarai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023073109070_88e5eaba9297b3a19e2b9cadd3434e5cac1d0e9d4fc53cd69b3b042334038fef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023073109070_88e5eaba9297b3a19e2b9cadd3434e5cac1d0e9d4fc53cd69b3b042334038fef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Songlines of the rivers and forests NT"> </figure>  Chaudhary has recorded many Jhumra songs, and also performs them on stage. It was her maternal grandmother who inspired her to take up music.&nbsp; “She was quite advanced for her generation. She used to play the madal and harmonium and make everyone dance. All the other dancers used to be male,” she recalls. Jhumra is easy to dance to and fits any festive occasion. It is popular on YouTube, in Tharu films, and in music festivals, and many women dance to it. “Jhumra is a colourful world, we sing it when we want to sing and dance and have fun,” says Chaudhary. An example of the lyrics of a duet by Basanti Chaudhary:&nbsp; Man: If a sackful of money is required, so be it But I will not give up this pretty girl Woman: I will dance in the yard But I will only exchange my beauty for money Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/on-a-high-note/" target="_blank">Tibetan music in Nepal’s sacred valley</a>, Sewa Bhattarai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023073109070_63c8b95652bf85316e52bf556aa501054c0990d34e1d406f5a3a46ec8e7afd78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023073109070_63c8b95652bf85316e52bf556aa501054c0990d34e1d406f5a3a46ec8e7afd78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Songlines of the rivers and forests NT"> <figcaption>Photo: Sewa Bhattarai</figcaption> </figure>  Chaudhary is not just a commercial singer, but is also interested in the cultural roots of her community, and tries to preserve songs that reflect Tharu culture.&nbsp; Recently, with the help of the music festival 'Echoes in the Valley', she worked with musicians Simma Rai and Hishi Dolma Sherpa to revive Sajana, a popular melody in Tharu culture. Sajana is sung from Saraswati Puja in December to Hareri Puja in August to invite rains if they are late. Or, women in distress also sing it to communicate with their husband and family. Chaudhary, Rai and Sherpa learned these songs from a Tharu elder, Nirmala, and then recreated the song with modern music. The song is now on YouTube, and they also performed it at the Echoes in the Valley Festival in March. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/eastern-melodies-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank">Eastern melodies in Kathmandu</a>, Sewa Bhattarai <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 152px; position: relative;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fepisode%2F1QWb6DhiPUTT7UAXWfb74G&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen allow="clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; fullscreen *; picture-in-picture *;"></iframe></div></div>Singer Basanti Chaudhary brings us a bhajhan--sung to console people after the death of a beloved one--and a few other Tharu songs from Dang.</div> We went fishing In the Rapti river The angar katuwa insect Bit my toe I sat on the shore and cried The Bhauji takes the Tapiya basket The Nandi takes the Helaka basket The Bhauji kills Raini fish The Nandi nets in tiny shrimp fish The song depicts the Tharu livelihood of fishing in rivers, and the role of different kinds of equipment and fish in their lives. The songs entertain as well as educate about Tharu culture and are gaining new audiences through the Internet. Songs considered ‘serious’, however, are still confined within the community. One such solemn song is sung to console relatives after a death in the family, and incorporates belief in rebirth.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/fire-in-the-belly-2/" target="_blank">Still dancing and singing for Nepal revolution,</a> Sewa Bhattarai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023073109070_5c6efb916a40e363e02a874de44946faad07e2e5ce99e79c60d4cdfd1d857588.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2023073109070_5c6efb916a40e363e02a874de44946faad07e2e5ce99e79c60d4cdfd1d857588" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Songlines of the rivers and forests NT"> </figure>  O soul, let's go to that country Where the dear, true Lord lives O soul, O soul Where will you make a home now? You have forgotten the stress of attachments Half the sinners are gone And the mortal body is still on the way “Death is inevitable after birth. If your loved one is dead, how do you console such a person? The body is here, but the soul is gone. Our mortal body is a sinful one. It is here today, and gone tomorrow,” Chaudhary explains. “Tharu bhajan are very touching. We can use them to revive lives devastated by the loss of a loved one.” The song portrays the mortal body as transient, and the soul as permanent. In essence, this song contains the spirit of the Nirgun philosophy, which holds that death is not the end, but the beginning of a journey to the divine. The song expresses the immortality of the soul, the transitory nature of the material world, the longing for liberation from the cycle of birth and death, and the desire to be one with the divine. The fact that the song has captured such a vast philosophy in very succinct words is proof that music is not just entertainment, that music can portray the full spectrum of human experiences and plumb the depths of human emotions. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-gift-of-music-to-nepali-children">A gift of music to Nepal's children</a>, Marty Logan  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023073109070_084a0c9fcbba42f7163e9f3c4d7e51e01418be6cdd0433edc073e29031e685cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2023073109070_084a0c9fcbba42f7163e9f3c4d7e51e01418be6cdd0433edc073e29031e685cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Songlines of the rivers and forests NT"> </figure>  The Nirgun tradition has deep roots in South Asia, it believes that attachment and sensory experiences lead to sorrow, the world is illusory, the body is impermanent and only the soul is permanent. Concepts like these can be found in ancient scriptures like Mahabharata, Bhagawad Gita, in the teachings of the Buddha, and in modern times in Nepal in the Ramayana of Bhanubhakta. Even though Tharu songs are now going commercial and widely disseminated, spiritual songs still have only limited reach. Other communities in Nepal also have songs to provide solace in difficult times, and open doors to knowledge and philosophy. But many languish in obscurity awaiting younger generations to take notice. Tharu songs are an example of the increasing market for entertainment and dance numbers in indigenous languages of Nepal, but we may have to wait for the time for more serious lyrics and melodies to gain wider listenership.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/ghatu-dance-of-lamjung/">Ghatu dance of Lamjung</a>, Sewa Bhattarai Sewa Bhattarai is a freelance journalist. Her series, On The Margins, will focus on folk music, folklore, and mythology of Nepal's marginalised communities.

Sewa Bhattarai

Songlines of the rivers and forests

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd9a9c7e80680e0a0bf4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Rajkumar Kathariya was arrested from the hospital where he was receiving treatment after being shot in police firing. His wife Sita gave birth to their son while he was seven months into custody. All photos: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>On 25 August 2015, Ram Prasad Chaudhary was in a meeting with the principal of the school in Joshipur of which he was president when plainclothes policemen rushed in. He was handcuffed and blindfolded without being told of the charges against him.The beatings began in the police van. “From Tikapur to Dhangadi, they tortured me. I had no hope of coming out of there alive,” recalls Ram Prasad, who floated in and out of consciousness until they reached Dhangadi. More torture and humiliation would follow in prison.The previous day, Tharu activists demanding greater autonomy for their indigenous group in the new Constitution had confronted Akhanda Sudur Paschim supporters, and the police intervened as the clashes <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/08/24/kailali-carnage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">became violent</a>.As things escalated, eight policemen were butchered in Tikapur, and a two year-old toddler was shot dead. In the following weeks, as the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/01/22/tikapur-finding/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">masterminds of the violence</a> and those known to have whipped up the agitation slipped away, police took revenge on innocent Tharus.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfd9d9c7e80680e0a0bf5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="750"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Ram Prasad finally found out in jail that he had been arrested for the killings of the policemen in Tikapur on 24 August. He had been a constituency-level leader of the then Madhesi Janadhikar Forum (Democratic), and had participated in the protest but was not involved in the killings.Sick in hospital, the court ordered that Ram Prasad receive treatment for his injuries. Doctors found that he had suffered blunt force trauma to the head, arms, and chest from incessant beatings. Six years later, Ram Prasad is still on medication for his injuries.This week ahead of the anniversary of the tragedy, Tharuhat Central Coordination Committee has started a sit-in in Kathmandu demanding the cases filed after the massacre to be withdrawn and the report of the government’s investigation into the incident to be made public.The Tikapur protest was not a sudden implosion, but the apotheosis of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/5-myths-about-the-tharu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tharu</a> movement, similar to movements by other ethnic communities across the country. The Tharuhat Struggle Committee (TSC) had rejected the seven-province federalism model that placed Kailali and Kanchanpur in Far-western Province, and had been agitating for a separate Tharuhat Province.Madhav Chaudhary, Kailali coordinator of the TSC, says that the situation deteriorated after proponents of the Akhanda Sudur Paschim movement staged a motorcycle rally from Dhangadi to Tikapur on 20 August to celebrate the passing of the new Constitution.Disgruntled Tharuhat cadre tried to stop the rally in retaliation for the disruption of a TSC meeting in Dhangadi. Akhanda Sudur Paschim activists then vandalised the Tharu Welfare Assembly office and other Tharu-owned buildings in Tikapur.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/displacement-and-defiance/">Displacement and defiance</a>, Tom RobertsonThe local administration imposed a lockdown in Tikapur, but TSC members gathered thousands of Tharus in Tikapur to replace ‘Nepal Government’ in signboards with ‘Autonomous Tharuhat Province’.The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/03/12/from-tikapur-to-maleth/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">police was overwhelmed</a> by the sheer numbers of protesters. By the end of the day, SSP Laxman Neupane, Inspectors Balram Bista and Keshav Bohara, Constable Shyam Bahadur Khadka, Police Constable Lokendra Bahadur Chand, Senior Constable Lalit Saud, Assistant Constable Ram Bihari Chaudhary, Constable Janak Negi, and the two-year-old son of one of the policemen, Tek Bahadur Saud, had been killed by protesters.Police filed cases against 58 suspects in the Kailali District Court, out of which two were Muslims, and the rest Tharu. Of them, only 27 suspects were arrested, and 31 are still on the run. Of the 27 arrested, 17 have since been released. All of them spoke to us of being tortured while in police custody.Five days after the Tikapur incident, police held discussions with locals under the premise of restoring communal harmony, but by then most TSC leaders had fled. That night, police went house-to-house arresting any TSC member they could find.Santa Kumar Chaudhary, who ran a liquor shop in Bhajani, was one of them. His wife Yamuna Devi Rasaili remembers the police buying alcohol, getting drunk and beating both husband and wife.The inebriated policemen led by Inspector Bharat Shah then kicked down the door to the home of Brijmohan Chaudhary, who lived nearby. He told us: “Around 12 drunk policemen broke in at 1AM and began beating me and took me to jail.”Kisan Lal Chaudhary remembers the torture in custody. “They used sticks and even their gun butts to beat us senseless,” says Kisan Lal, who still needs treatment. Vegetable vendor Rajesh Chaudhary was also arrested that night, and severely tortured. Santaram Chaudhary, a teacher from Bhajani, had to be taken to hospital after the torture shattered his right eardrum.Even before the 24 August 2015 killings, Rajkumar Kathariya and Sundarlal Kathariya of Janaki village were shot in police firing and had been hospitalised.But the police picked them anyway, accusing them of being involved in the killing of policemen. Rajkumar’s brother-in-law Ram Kumar Kathariya went to the hospital with clothes and money, and stayed there overnight. On 25 August, Rajkumar, Sundarlal and Ram Kumar were arrested at the hospital.“They asked us if we had gone to the protests and killed those policemen,” Rajkumar recalls. “I told them that was impossible because I had been shot by the police before the killings, and was in hospital. But they beat me up anyway.”Seven months into custody, Rajkumar’s wife Sita gave birth to their son. Sita would visit Rajkumar in prison with their infant son. Even as he was filled with joy, the first sight of his child, whom he couldn’t hold or even touch, broke his heart. “I wish I had been with Sita when she was pregnant,” says Rajkumar, holding his son at his doorstep last week, six years after that horror-filled day. “I suffered thinking about her going through it alone.”The Kailali District Court ruled that Rajkumar would serve a life sentence for the Tikapur killings. However, in December 2020, the Dipayal High Court reduced Rajkumar’s sentence to five years. By that time, however, he had already spent six months more than his term. Rajkumar’s brother-in-law Ram Kumar was initially sentenced to three years in prison, even though he had already spent three-and-a-half years in jail by that time.Sundarlal Kathariya suffered multiple tragedies during his five year incarceration. He lost his daughter to jaundice, and his son has been paralysed after an accident. “Had I not been in prison, I would have been able to get my children the treatment they needed,” says Sundarlal. “My family was destroyed.”Others, like Lahuram Chaudhary, spent six months more than his three-year sentence, while Rajesh Chaudhary and Brijmohan Chaudhary spent four more months than their five-year terms.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfda09c7e80680e0a0bf6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="750"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nepal’s National Criminal Code stipulates that no one shall be subjected to torture, and those perpetrating it face stiff fines and jail terms. The code further states, ‘Any person who commits such an offence shall not be allowed to claim that they have committed the offence under orders from a superior officer, nor shall they be exempt from punishment.’But although the torture of the Tharus of Tikapur while in custody was recorded in court, there was no subsequent investigation by law enforcement. And no compensation.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfda39c7e80680e0a0bf7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="750"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Ram Naresh Chaudhary lived and worked as a mathematics teacher near his rented flat in Bardia, some 23 km from Tikapur. He was teaching his Grade 10 class on 25 August when two plainclothes policemen showed up and asked him to confirm his identity. He was then put on the back of a motorcycle and taken to Dhangadi. Ram Naresh was accused of involvement in the killings even though he had not been anywhere near Tikapur the previous day. He asked police to check his phone’s geolocation, but they put him behind bars anyway.Birbal Chaudhary, the principal of the school Ram Naresh taught at, went to the police station in Dhangadi with his colleague’s attendance record to prove his innocence. Birbal offered to pay bail, but was denied. “If you talk too much you will suffer the same fate,” the police told him.The district court in 2018 ruled that Ram Naresh was not involved in the killings, and in 2020, the high court upheld the district court's verdict. By that time, he had spent three and a half years in prison. “I spent three-and-a-half years in prison despite my innocence,” says Ram Naresh. “I lost my job, my family is in disarray. Where is justice?”Tikapur farmer Bishram Kushmi ran an agro-vet and nursery shop in Tikapur and had taken out a loan to rent a plot. His store had been vandalised and looted the day after the deadly protests, but police still came after him seven months later to arrest him. “Months after my store was vandalised, I was jailed,” Kushmi says, “my business was finished, and my debt kept stacking up. I lost everything.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfda69c7e80680e0a0bf8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kushmi had not been named in any of the complaints following the Tikapur incident, and his phone’s location proved he had been nowhere near the protest site. But the government prosecutors still sought life imprisonment. On 6 March, after spending 3 years in prison, Kusmi was acquitted, but by that time the bank had started the process of auctioning his property.Although Nepal’s Supreme Court ordered that those who were falsely imprisoned be compensated, they have not received any amount from the state. Police haven’t had to answer for their arbitrary arrests and torture. The courts have not been held to account for wrong prosecutions.Santa Kumar Chaudhary is serving a life sentence for the Tikapur killings in Jhumka Prison, 500km away in Sunsari. But it appears he was mistaken for someone else with the same name.Wrongful imprisonment was not the only consequence that Tharus of Kailali faced after the Tikapur killings of police. There were revenge attacks on Tharu-owned houses and businesses in Tikapur, many were vandalised, looted, and set on fire. Nirmala Chaudhary, owner of Niru Traders, had brought her pregnant sister to Tikapur to care for her. Her shop was set on fire by Akhanda Sudur Paschim protestors. She and her sister escaped the fire from the third floor window.“My sister gave birth to her daughter that very night. Every year on that day, I struggle with joy and sorrow,” says Nirmala. “Should I celebrate my niece’s birthday, or mourn the loss of my house and shop?”Shiva Narayan Chaudhary sold electrical goods at Niru Traders with his wife Nirmala. It was looted and burned to the ground despite the curfew imposed after the Tikapur violence.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdab9c7e80680e0a0bf9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="924" height="617"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“Everything that was stocked up for the Dasain festival was looted and they had police protection,” says Shiva Narayan, who did receive some compensation. Indeed, while shops owned by Tharus were looted and torched, those owned by hill settlers were not. Businesses run by Tharu families in buildings owned by non-Tharu were vandalised, but not set on fire.“We filed a petition demanding action and sent it to the police,” Shiva Narayan says,“However, there has been no investigation into the vandalism and arson of our homes and shops.” Laxman Tharu, the national coordinator of the Tharuhat/Tharuwan Struggle Committee, says that the Tikapur violence set back the movement for Tharu autonomy.“Since the Tharuhat movement was gaining traction, the Tikapur incident was planned to disenfranchise us, as a result of which the movement has suffered great loss,” he says.There was dissatisfaction among many ethnic groups across the country seeking autonomy in the new Constitution. Although the demands of other ethnic groups were partially met, TSC coordinator for Kailali-3 Ram Prasad Chaudhary says: “The Tharu have been the only people who haven’t had any of their concerns addressed. The state has continued its historical oppression.”<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/atrocities-against-tharu-expressed-in-art/">Atrocities against Tharu expressed in art</a>, Sakina Abidi_________________<h2>Righting historical wrongs</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdad9c7e80680e0a0bfajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">In his book Madhes: Problems and Possibilities, researcher Arjun Guneratne writes about the Tharu and the Nepali state, tracing the historical discrimination and land-grabbing by settlers of the forests and farms of the Tarai where the Tharu lived.It all started with the practice of gifting birta land to soldiers and military officials to feed the Gorkha conquests of the 18-19th century. This process accelerated after malaria was eradicated in the 1960s, and the forests cleared to allow a state-sponsored trans-migration of hill people to the Tarai.The impact of such migration, Guneratne writes, was widespread in the Far West and Inner Tarai valleys like Chitwan and Dang. After losing their land, many Tharus of western Nepal joined the ranks of kamaiya indentured labourers.The anti-kamaiya movement in the 1990s for the first time made the Tharus politically aware. This is why the Maoists were able to recruit Tharus into their militia during the insurgency by promising them liberation with an autonomous Tharu state.According to a report on Nepal’s conflict by the Informal Sector Service Center (INSEC), it was the Tharu who suffered the most casualties and enforced disappearances in proportion to their population base.Fifteen years after the conflict, the Maoists are in power and have forgotten about their promises to the Tharu, and have still not been allowed into decision-making positions either in provincial or the federal government.Translated by Shristi Karki from the original in Himal monthly.

Tikapur’s protracted trauma

<figure><img width="1500" height="1146" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2309c7e80680e08f8f8jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>One misconception about the Tharu people is that they never got malaria. In fact they did, but less than hill settlers. A US-led insecticide spraying campaign against malaria in Chitwan in the 1950s. Photo: USOM RECORDS, US NATIONAL ARCHIVES, COLLEGE PARK, MARYLAND.</figcaption></figure>The Tharu make up 5% of Nepal’s population. One in every 20 Nepalis is Tharu. They outnumber the Gurung, Limbu, and Newa peoples. And yet, most Nepalis often know very little about Tharu culture and history. There are many things told about the Tharu. Most are wrong.The first day of the Nepali month of  माघ which this year falls on 14 January is ‘Maaghi’, the Tharu new year. Chitwan Tharu celebrate the day with pwakaa (पोका in Nepali) -- anadi sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves reheated in the coals of a fire. Dangaura Tharu in western Nepal celebrate with feasts and dancing. They also elect new community leaders known as barghar.Maagh 1 is also the day when tenants would decide whether to continue with their landlords--some of whom were Tharu and some पहाडी hill people-- or move elsewhere. Before the 1950s, because labourers were hard to find to work in the malarious animal infested Tarai, they had more leverage over the terms of their work than in later years.Several different Tharu groups live across the Tarai, each with its own language: The Kochila in the East, the Chitwan Tharu in the central area, and Dangaura, Deshauria, and Rana Tharu in the western Tarai. One anthropologist wrote a book about Nepal's Tharu called Many Tongues, One People.The Tharu are the original inhabitants of much of the Tarai, because although they sometimes got malaria, they got it less often and with less severe consequences than hill people and people from the plains.The malaria eradication project in the 1960s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/60-years-after-1954-devastating-flood-same-failings-of-government-today-post-quake,2433">dramatically changed Tharu lives</a>. In Chitwan, for instance, in 1955 the Tharu (and related groups such as the Bote and Darai) formed almost 100% of the region's population of 25,000. By 1970, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/how-chitwan-was-opened,4159">they had dropped to 14%</a> of the population as 125,000 migrants moved in during those years.Birendra Mahato, Director of the Chitwan Tharu Culture Museum outside Sauraha, says: "Tourist guides and hotel owners used to spread very inaccurate ideas. They often put us down. Now NTNC (National Trust for Nature Conservation) is giving training to new guides. They now have a much better idea."Indeed, there are several misunderstandings about Tharu communities. Some of them are:   Misconception 1: Historically, The Tharu Were HuntersThe Truth: Tharu were farmers who herded cattle and fished but did not hunt.In The Kings of Nepal &amp; the Tharu of the Tarai, Gisele Krauskopff writes: ‘The hunting practices of the Tharu have been stressed in many hunters’ books and are part of the biased image of ‘the savage forest dwellers.’ But hunting, and especially hunting as a subsistence technique to provide meat, is not central to the Tharu way of life...Their subsistence is based on a close relationship between paddy cultivation and fishing. The Tharu used to live near the forest, but not in it. They were first and foremost forest clearers, which means that the forest had to be pushed back.’ Misconception 2: The Tharu Lived in an Ancient Tarai ForestThe Truth: Tharu lived not in the forest but near it, often near grasslands, and over the years the forest grew and fell back.Krauskopff writes: ‘Because of the relative isolation of the Tarai, a previously malaria-infested land, prejudiced observers of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries created a false image of the Tharu...as savage dwellers of a primeval forest -- which the Tarai is not. Old kingdoms have risen and fallen there for at least 2000 years. The forest retreated when farming expanded under prosperous political conditions; the jungle took over in times of instability and conflict.’Misconception 3: Tharu Are Uncivilised जंगलीThe Truth: The Tharu made many ingenious adaptations to their Tarai environmentAccording to this derogatory inaccuracy, the Tharu are forest dwellers little smarter than animals. They lack knowledge and skills. They collect forest products but don't use their brains. They do not farm. They are ignorant of the outside world. They are too backward to wear clothes."Even now some people in Kathmandu and Pokhara call us uncivilised," says museum director Mahato. "The Tharu live in the jungle, they say. Many hill people don't know about the Tarai."But in fact, the Tharu have developed many skills useful for their Tarai environment: agriculture, irrigation, house construction, fishing, handicrafts, herbal medicine, forest vegetables, midwifery, wood carving, and animal domestication. All require deep knowledge about the environment."If Tharu weren't smart in this environment, they couldn't have survived. They were knowledgeable in irrigation, agriculture, जडीबुटी herbs, and fishing. They were skilled in lots of things. That was civilised."When outsiders from the hills came to places like Chitwan, they often misunderstood because the Tharu had unfamiliar habits and spoke their own languages. Migrants learned from the Tharu about irrigation, wild animals, and Tarai agriculture. Some learned the Tharu language and respected the Tharu and their traditions. Misconception 4: The Tharu Never Got MalariaThe Truth: Tharu got malaria less often than other groups, and died less often than others, but infants often got it, and some died.Many outsiders, and even some Tharu themselves, think that the Tharu never got malaria. They say Tharu did not get malaria because they ate snails, rice liquor, and spicy chilies. This is wrong. Elderly Tharu will tell you about malaria fever and shivers.Tharu got malaria and sometimes died from it. ‘It should be remembered that resistance to malaria is acquired after a certain time and that even in a generally resistant population,’ writes Giselle Krauskopff. ‘Tharu children died of malarial fever.’Compared to hill Nepalis, the Tharu acquired malaria less often and with fewer consequences. They had genetic immunities-- high rates of alpha-thalassemia, a genetic pattern common in populations who have lived in malarial areas for generations that reduces both vivax and falciparum malaria, decreasing morbidity by up to tenfold. They also acquired immunities: Those who survived one or two malarial fevers often developed an ability to fight off later attacks.These immunities meant that malaria posed less of a threat to those who survived infancy. But there was a high infant death rate. A visiting journalist noted in 1962: ‘In hundreds of villages, the child population was destined for malaria in their first year of life as surely as if the mosquitoes flew in with a list of names of the newly-born.’Mahato says, "Sometimes outsiders, and even the Tharu themselves, say the Tharu never got malaria. Both are wrong. Sometimes I get into arguments with Tharu people who say this. They say to me “नचाहिने कुरा किन गर्छस?” Many are politicised. Older Tharus tell me that they got it."To say the Tharu sometimes got malaria should not undercut the argument that the malaria and resettlement programs of the 1950s and 1960s often misunderstood, overlooked, and pushed aside Tharu interests.Misconception 5: Tharu Society Was Disconnected from Nepali SocietyThe Truth: Tharu groups before the 1960s had many interactions with other Nepalis and the Kathmandu government. Tourist brochures often describe Tharu society with phrases such as ‘untouched by civilization’, ‘timeless’, ‘in total isolation’, ‘living in another time’, and ‘forgotten by civilisation’.That is hardly the case. Even during malaria days, the Tharu had regular contact with groups from both the north and the south. Traders from the north would come every winter. In many places, Tharu tenants worked for hill landlords. The Tharu worked for the Nepal's rulers as land clearers and tax collectors. In some places, Rana and other elite visited Tharu areas for huge hunting expeditions. They relied upon Tharu workers to build roads, provide supplies, drive elephants, and find tigers.That said, it is true that the Tarai's malaria limited the interactions of the Tharu with outside groups, and gave them limited autonomy.To learn more about the richness and complexity of Tharu life, please read any of the books cited here or visit the Chitwan Tharu Culture museum near Sauraha, Chitwan. Happy New Year.___________________________________________ <h2>Americans deride Tharu knowledge, 1959</h2> <figure><img width="1920" height="1200" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2339c7e80680e08f8f9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>These official US photos compare traditional Tharu agriculture and modern 'scientific' agriculture. The images appeared on facing pages of a book produced in 1959 by the US government to celebrate its assistance to Chitwan and Nepal. At the time, the US ran a large resettlement program in Chitwan. American officials often wrongly saw the Chitwan Tharu as part of an outdated past. According to the implied narrative in the photos, the Chitwan valley was evolving from unproductive 'backward' traditions to super-productive, science-based civilisation along the lines of the American Midwest. The photos suggested that the Tharu had little to offer this new Nepal. That was wrong. Tharu taught migrants many things. Some of the new methods succeeded, but some often failed or brought environmental problems. <h2>Rescuing Tharu history from the shadows</h2> <figure><img width="1351" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2369c7e80680e08f8fajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rana hunting expeditions couldn't have happened without expert Tharu mahouts, as this 1913 photo (above) from a hunt connected to Tribhuvan's coronation shows. But Tharus themselves rarely hunted. Instead they farmed, grazed cattle and buffalo, fished, trapped small animals, and gathered herbs and other resources from the grasslands and forests. __________________________________________Writings on Recent Tharu HistoryDr. Gisele Krauskopff. ‘From Jungles to Farms: A Look at Tharu History’ in The Kings of Nepal &amp; the Tharu of the Tarai, ed. Pamela Meyer (Los Angeles: Rusca Press, 2000).Dr. Arjun Guneratne. ‘The Tharu of Chitwan, Nepal’. In Disappearing Peoples?: Indigenous Groups and Ethnic Minorities in South and Central Asia, edited by Barbara Rose Johnston and Barbara Brower (London: Routledge, 2007), p. 91–106.Guneratne, Arjun. Many Tongues, One People: The Making of Tharu Identity in Nepal. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002.Muller-Boker, Ulrike. The Chitwan Tharus in Southern Nepal: An Ethnoecological Approach. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1999.Thomas Robertson. ‘DDT and the Cold War Jungle: American Environmental and Social Engineering in the Rapti Valley of Nepal’. Journal of American History 104, no. 4 (March 1, 2018): 904–30.Locke, Piers. “The Tharu, the Tarai and the History of the Nepali Hattisar.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research. 38 (2011): 61–82.Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/how-chitwan-was-opened,4159">How Chitwan was Opened</a> by Tom Robertson<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-mosquito-that-changed-nepals-history/">The Insect that Changed Nepal's History</a> by Tom Robertson<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/land-reform-in-cold-war-Nepal,4192">Tom Robertson, PhD</a> is a historian and creator of the मिठो लेखाई videos on writing technique. He has been researching malaria and Tharu history since 2007, and is an adviser to the Chitwan Tharu Culture Museum.

Tom Robertson

5 Myths about the Tharu

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171156/636bdc859c7e80680e08031ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1523" height="1000"/><figcaption>All photos: Sravasti Ghosh Dastidar</figcaption></figure>A tourist trip to Chitwan National Park usually includes interaction with the Tharu community. But most visitors do not get to see the region’s lesser known indigenous people, the Bote.The Tharu are known for their unique culture and artistic decorations manifested on walls, verandahs and household items. And while the Tharu are known as the people of the forest, the Bote are the river people.They mostly live along the East Rapti and Narayani rivers bordering Chitwan National Park, although there are some Bote settlements in Gorkha, Tanahu and Lamjung. The Bote are one of the least known and dwindling indigenous groups in Nepal. According to the 2011 census, there are only 2,830 speaking the Bot language as a mother tongue.Whereas transmigration of mountain settlers in the 1960s cleared the forests and displaced the Tharu, the expansion of Chitwan’s highway towns and a tourism boom encroached on the habitation of the Bote along the riverbanks. When traditional fishing and foraging of the Bote was restricted after the Chitwan National Park was established, the community moved to agriculture.Lately, they have also adapted to other trades like carpentry, motorcycle repairs and even auto rickshaw driving. However, in a Bote village near Sauraha three or four households still fish among the rhinos and crocodiles at the edge of the Chitwan National Park.Dusk settles stealthily on the banks of the meandering East Rapti which marks the boundary between the Chitwan National Park and the tourist village of Sauraha, semi-deserted these days because of the pandemic.Asian Pied-Hornbills, spotted doves and kingfishers flit from one branch to another of tall sal trees surrounding the tiny village. A group of men loiters around the thatched mud hut of Rishiram Bote (right).Rishiram’s wife and daughters go about the household chores of feeding their pet dogs, hen and goats, sweeping mud floors and washing utensils at the tube well. The boys play football. In between all the activities, everyone keeps looking towards the river expectantly.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171156/636bdc889c7e80680e08031fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="400" height="514">The sun is now low in the hazy sky, and in the golden light two small dugouts carved out of simal logs pull up at the bank. Unlike the longer canoes that ferry tourists and forest department personnel, these boats accommodate only two people.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171156/636bdc8a9c7e80680e080320jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1546" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The women and children run towards the canoes with plastic basins and sharp machetes. Rishiram and three fishermen jump off the boats with small handheld fishing nets that are brimming with bighead carps, silver carps, rohu, naini, mrigal, silver fish, catfish and eels.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171156/636bdc8d9c7e80680e080321jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="395" height="300">There are 120 species of fish found in the cool, slow-moving waters of the Rapti. Some of them are big, and there have been catches of up to 10kg. The licensed Bote fishermen are not allowed by the national park to use longer nets which would entangle crocodiles, and also make fishing unsustainable. The Bote fish for their own community, and have to be satisfied with whatever they can haul in their smaller nets.The women unload the fish, weigh and sell them to the men who have gathered to inspect the evening catch. They are regular customers, mostly hotel and restaurant owners from Sauraha who wait around for the boats to return. They can resell the fish at triple the cost price in town. Within minutes, the entire lot is gone. It has been a good day.On other days when there are some unsold, the Bote dry the fish and consume it themselves. The catch varies from day to day, with fewer fish in winter. Rishiram leaves at 6AM when it is still dark, paddling into the thick fog of the Rapti and returning late. The national park rules do not allow them to fish at night, and the Bote existence is hand-to-mouth.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171156/636bdc8e9c7e80680e080322jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="169" height="250"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171156/636bdc8f9c7e80680e080323jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1546" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdc949c7e80680e080324jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1572" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Living on the edgeThe Bote literally live on the edge – the edge of jungle, and the edge of the rapidly urbanising inner plains of Chitwan Valley. Modernisation has pushed them to adapt to a monetised, mostly tourism dependent economy of the district. And the national park, with its endangered and protected animals, keeps them out. This is life along the periphery of human habitation, and at the fringes of a protected nature reserve.It can be dangerous floating along these crocodile infested waters and the tall grass of the Rapti floodplain which is the favourite habitat of tigers and rhinos. Sometimes, fish-eating gharial crocodiles get entangled in the nets, and although setting them free can be dangerous, the Bote are forbidden from harming the rare reptiles.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdc989c7e80680e080325jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1573" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Gharials, with their long snouts and razor sharp teeth have to be disentangled with great care, and there are always park rangers watching through binoculars from sentry towers along the river. The Park warden has trained them to follow instructions on fishing, the do’s and dont’s. For example, after disentangling them, the gharials have to be taken to the breeding centre at Kasara.The larger mugger crocodiles are even more dangerous, and the Bote have lost friends and family to them. A few months ago, Rishiram’s friend’s body was found 50km downstream from where he was last seen. During the monsoon, the Rapti’s waters rise and the crocodiles come right up to the huts. They are shooed away with sticks, sometimes unsuccessfully.In the misty winter mornings, the tall, thick elephant grass has rhinoceroses, tigers and sometimes even wild elephants, lurking in them. The fishermen and rhinos frequently cross paths. On one such cold morning, Rishiram’s uncle had gone into the forest with his nets, and he saw the rhino too late. It charged, and gored him.Encountering tigers and wild elephants can be a risky affair. Especially if it happens to be Ronaldo, a rogue elephant which keeps himself entertained by entering villages and mauling inhabitants every year. Villagers usually ward off the wild elephants that come in search of food with electrified barbed wire fences.However, the intelligence quotient of elephants is legendary. They know when there is a power cut and listen to the sounds of generators, and vibrations in the wires, to determine when the wires do not carry a current. The villagers then have to resort to lighting fires to keep the animals out, as well as keep themselves warm.Sidelined existenceThe main livelihood of the Bote is fishing, paddling boats, gold-panning, collecting wood, and harvesting elephant grass and edible ferns from the forest. However, since the Chitwan National Park was established, fishing activities have been regulated with strict guidelines. Some now grow crops in their limited land by the river. They also sell chicken, eggs and elephant grass, and buy dal, rice and buffalo meat to supplement their own supply of fish, mutton, chicken and homegrown vegetables.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdc9b9c7e80680e080326jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1017"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>They now have solar-powered lights, but the homes are still plastered with mud and cow dung. The roofing is made from elephant grass, which is harvested once a year in spring when the Park is open for collection, and have to be rethatched annually. Rishiram and his brothers Parshuram, Dipak and Pardeep are the last few members of the Bote community in Sauraha. There are a few more Botes living down the river in Pathiani. Chitwan is, however, dominated by the better-known Tharu who have cleverly showcased their culture to attract tourists.Very few people have heard of the Bote, even in Nepal. Being  more under-served than the Tharu, the Bote and Majhi communities of Chitwan are at the bottom of the socio-economic ladder. The Bote language, dress, dances and songs are indigenous, and endangered as the way of life of these people is transformed.The Bote language is Indo-European but does not have a script, and is distinct from the Tharu and other indigenous languages here. The link language with other communities is therefore Nepali, and as children go to school, they are losing touch with their mother tongue.Origin and relocationThere are two possible origins of the name ‘Bote’. Besides fishing, the community was known for laying tree trunks or branches across rivers to build makeshift seasonal bridges to allow people to cross. ‘Bot’ means a tree, and it could be that Nepali speakers started calling them Bote.The other possibility might be that since they did not own land or houses, and took shelter under trees on the waterfront, they  came to be known as Bote, since their existence revolved around the river.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdc9f9c7e80680e080327jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1504" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Many members of the community have moved on from Chitwan in search of greener pastures. The traditional livelihoods are being gradually replaced by agriculture and other trading activities that generate better income. The Chitwan National Park, which restricted their fishing tradition, has given some of them auto-rickshaws under an instalment scheme as an alternative to their traditional lifelihood.But Rishiram’s family has stayed on, and is one of the few that still make a living from fishing. He could not continue his studies as he had to become the provider of the family from a young age. But he encourages his own children to get an education and pursue their dreams.The four children and Parshuram’s two sons want to continue their studies though they are yet unsure of their professional goals. Their school timings do not allow them to go fishing with their fathers, hence their interest in the traditional occupation of their community has waned. The girls go to school where they learn Nepali, English and Mathematics. They also help in the housework. They speak a smattering of Hindi, thanks to watching popular Hindi movies on television.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdca29c7e80680e080328jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1558" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The transformation of Bote lives, their adversities and poverty, have not been able to erode their filial bonds. Community ties are still strong. Bote families find dignity in working together, and they approach life with plenty of smiles and pride in who they are.As with other communities in Nepal, change is rapid and relentless. Literacy and income generation can help Rishiram Bote and others lift themselves from their subsistence lifestyles without erasing too much of their precious culture, heritage. Programs to uplift their socio-economic status involving tourism and conservation could combine their traditions with modernity, and help preserve what is best in the Bote way of life.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdca69c7e80680e080329jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1391" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Distance from Kathmandu to Chitwan: 175 kmFly to Chitwan: Daily flights from Pokhra and Kathmandu to Bharatpur airport, NepalFlight duration: 20 minsBy road: Prithvi Highway from Kathmandu, turn south at MuglingDriving time: 4-5 hoursBest time to go: October to MarchWildlife viewing: April-MayJungle Tours: Half-day, Full-Day Jeep Safaris, Overnight homestays in the jungle, Jungle treksBote village: Your local guide can take you (no scheduled tours)Tharu cultural village tour: 3 hours any day, any seasonSauraha and Pathiani: Auto-rickshaws available on hire<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110918110/636bdcaa9c7e80680e08032ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1523" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Sravasti Ghosh Dastidar is a photographer, travel and lifestyle journalist. She has a content writing firm Sravasti's and <a href="https://sravastis.com/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://sravastis.com/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604192000570000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEwF63inGYoIyzYQ86L-Rp1vRFRIw">an e-commerce website</a> for eco-friendly greeting cards and pens.

Chitwan’s Bote people in a changing world

<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67049c7e80680e0599b7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Lavkant Chaudhary</figcaption></figure>As they enter Lavkant Chaudhary’s Masinya Dastoor exhibition at the Siddhartha Art Gallery, the visitors are strongly drawn to one particular work on display.  They are three canvases titled DDT depicting circles within circles in the first one. Chakra, the circle of life, but it is also a bullseye, and the tiny figures of animals and people are rendered in the style of a traditional Tharu folk art. The figures are the size of an adult mosquito, and a greyscale exterminator points directly at the centre of the target, ready to spray dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane.The other painting are lifelike paintings of three DDT cans amidst a backdrop of insects, and the third is of a colourful cloud of butterfly silhouettes. <figure><img width="1500" height="1476" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67089c7e80680e0599b8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Chaudhary says the American-supported <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-mosquito-that-changed-nepals-history/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">eradication of malaria</a> from Chitwan and the Tharu homeland in the Tarai destroyed not just mosquitoes but but also the Tharu people. The paintings, he says are the “silenced histories of the Tharu community.”The Tharu were genetically immune to malaria, but once the disease was eradicated by killing mosquitos, settlers came in to clear the forests, land was bought at a pittance from Tharus unable to read the land deeds.The Masinya Dastoor is expression through art of an aboriginal people the rulers in Kathmandu treated as expendable. The works are housed in two floors with earthy acrylic on canvas paintings (pictured below), land title copies with ink superimposed, wood carvings, an art installation and video. Each artwork across these various medium connect back to the historical persecution of the Tharu people. <img width="1500" height="1573" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a670b9c7e80680e0599b9jpeg.jpg" alt="">Chaudhary says he used to be as ignorant about Tharu history as the rest of Nepalis, but was inspired when he began researching his community during a six-month art project initiated by Artree Nepal in Bhaktapur after the 2015 Earthquake.“All I came across were recurring stereotypical ideas about the Tharu. We were just <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/tharu-escargots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">water snail eaters</a>  jungle dwellers, alcohol drinkers, and an honest tribe. That was our identity,” he recalls.Sangeeta Thapa of the Siddhartha Art Gallery says some indigenous groups in Nepal were taken as bonded labourers since Lichhavi times 1,400 years ago. Later on, under the Shah and Rana dynasties when the caste hierarchy was codified into the first Mulki Ain of 1854, indigenous groups were placed under the category of paani chalne masinya matawali (touchable but enslavable alcohol drinkers) which made them expendable by the state. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a670e9c7e80680e0599bajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Despite slavery being abolished in 1926, the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Modern-day-domestic-slaves-domestic-workers,3785" target="_blank" rel="noopener">kamaiya bonded labourer system</a> persisted until it was outlawed as late as 2004. But by then the Tharu had lost most of their land.One of Chaudhary’s art installations is of small wooden boxes hung from the ceiling, each filled with grain and a single brass bullet. Next to it, the Diary series recreates pages carved into wood from the diary of Jokhan Ratgainya, a Tharu journalist and revolutionary who was killed in June 2001. <figure><img width="1500" height="2078" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67119c7e80680e0599bbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In one corner, the Tamasuk series, with pen and ink drawings on Nepali paper, leads into the Dastoor series, stippling drawings of day to day activities on archival paper prints of the dastoor (legal orders).The second floor hosts large striking oil paintings that detail day to day scenes alongside violence: from the conflict years, and the Tikapur massacre of 2015. Another installation is of ghaila pots hanging inside a darkroom which projects light on the walls. On one wall, a video replays a barmasiya folk song and then shows a burning miniature village as eyewitness accounts of violence. <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67149c7e80680e0599bcjpeg.jpg" alt="">Chaudhary writes in a description that he has used art to fill the gaps left by Nepal’s mainstream media to communicate the atrocities: “I found strength in unearthing what has remained silent and kept silent by the Nepali media, the state, and civil society.”His art speaks volumes about displacement and resistance, easily comparable to the struggles of indigenous peoples in the subcontinent and beyond. The mix of mediums, attention to detail and the historical narrative woven into each work makes for an exhibition that is an experience, one that sheds light on Nepali history and the indigenous peoples who have been silenced.Masinya Dastoorby Lavant ChaudharySiddhartha Art GalleryUntil January 9 2020

Atrocities against Tharu expressed in art

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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