After 11 years of pedalling his rickshaw through the narrow alleyways of old Kathmandu, Potey Tamang’s legs had to get used to being still. For close to a year now, his rickshaw business is down and out due to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-economy-already-weak-takes-direct-hit/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-economy-already-weak-takes-direct-hit/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1609921636622000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGrlHbVUcaNFpPQtXgOsaCAEUg6yw">the coronavirus pandemic</a>.These days, the 48-year-old spends most days waiting in front of the Gaddi Baithak hoping for a fare. Just to kill the time, he dusts the ornate painting on the sides of his rickshaw, wipes the plastic flower bouquet on the handlebar, and checks the pedals and chain. All must be in order, just in case someone wants a ride.Tamang’s day begins in his rented room in Dhalko at 5AM. For months now, most days go by without a single passenger, while he sits under the Kathmandu sun in the company of fellow rickshaw drivers.Before the Covid-19 induced <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-under-semi-lockdown/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-under-semi-lockdown/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1609921636622000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFBHdNpm3Nhu0O0hyIj8WC_h03hkQ">lockdown</a>, Tamang and his colleagues used to get plenty of hires, delivering goods or passengers through the gullies of inner Kathmandu. Tourist passengers were much sought after because they paid more, but there have been no foreigners now for nearly a year. Even with the end of the lockdown, passengers are hard to come by.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd14e9c7e80680e08f8a7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"/><figcaption>Potey Tamang, 48, taking out his rickshaw from a garage. All photos: DRISHNA STHAPIT</figcaption></figure>“If I get lucky with a ride or two in a day, I have money to pay for food. Otherwise, I wait here all day,” says Tamang.Kathmandu’s rickshaws used to be the vehicle of choice for people commuting short distances through the narrow, crowded alleys of the old city. While there are some locals who still use the three-wheelers to move goods or quickly get to another nearby location, the business has always depended heavily on tourism. With the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/domestic-flight-resumption-put-off/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/domestic-flight-resumption-put-off/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1609921636622000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEKn1MFJTnK-d2ZauebzuqRhCE3_Q">cancellation of international flights</a>, like all <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-has-decided-to-live-with-covid-19/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-has-decided-to-live-with-covid-19/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1609921636622000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGLXGS6D17NLvzWufIWDCQGjsPklw">businesses</a> catering to tourists, rickshaws have also hit a low.Tamang is from Kavre, and used to earn up to Rs2,000 on his best days. He and his colleagues now struggle to take care of their families.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd1519c7e80680e08f8a8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Another driver, Sonam, says he has not had a single passenger for three days, and is struggling to pay his rent and feed his family. The situation was not so bad before the lockdown, as Basantapur still received tourists at the start of the year and some tourists were generous enough to part with a huge tip.“Most of our customers used to be tourists, that is why we are having a hard time. If there were even a few local passengers at times like this, it would have been a little easier for us,” says Maila Lama, 58, who has been driving rickshaws for the past 25 years.According to Lama, use of rickshaws by locals has gone down because more and more people in Kathmandu now own two-wheelers. Both Lama and Tamang concur that the popularity of ride-sharing apps like Tootle and Pathao has also affected their business.“We don’t get as many local passengers like we used to because of Pathao. We normally charge around Rs100 for a ride from Durbar Square to Thamel. Pathao charges only Rs70,” says Tamang. “While their service is cheaper, we charge more because we have to put in physical effort.”The sight of the brightly coloured three-wheelers staggering along Kathmandu’s bumpy roads started to become rare as the business took a back seat in recent years. Many rickshaw operators moved on to other businesses that promised better return for their labour.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd1559c7e80680e08f8a9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“Some of my friends are working as tempo drivers, some drive taxis, while some are working as labourers,” says Lama. “Sometimes I also feel like quitting this job and starting something else. But everything requires money and I don’t have it.”The bright paint and colourful frills decorating the rickshaws are starting to pale out, as the tourist eye-candy of the past has been relegated to the parking stands. Tamang says he worries about the future of the business. He says if people stop using rickshaws, the mode of transportation will die out and people like him will have to find alternative ways to make a living.“I am getting old and I don’t have any other skill. If the situation does not improve in a few months, I’ll have no other option but to go back to my village,” he says.While Tamang is already considering an alternative, Lama and Sonam are still pinning their hopes on the resurgence of tourism in Nepal. “I am hopeful that our business will improve in 2021. Once the tourists start coming to Kathmandu, we will be able to earn again,” says 37-year-old Sonam.For now, their eyes search passersby, pinning on to hope that the convenience of a quick ride will bring them a passenger or two.

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Pandemic puts brake on Kathmandu's rickshaws

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y85epyHUvjo&amp;feature=youtu.beFor those who think that Nepal is too underdeveloped to make full use of <a href="https://fusemachines.com.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">artificial intelligence</a> (AI), think again. That is exactly what they used to say about computers and mobile phones in the 1990s.It may come as a surprise to many that Nepal has been gaining ground in AI, developing not only software using machine learning algorithms but producing world-class engineers. One company at the forefront is <a href="https://fusemachines.com.np/">Fusemachines Nepal</a>, which has started using industry experts to train AI students with cutting-edge technology to deliver intelligent solutions.“I wanted to see if I can contribute in bringing the best AI education to Nepal and make Nepal known around the world as one of the best sources of AI talent,” says the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Sameer-Maskey-revolutionalizing-customer-service-through-Fuse-Machines,1069" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali founder of Fusemachines, Sameer Maskey</a>, a professor at Columbia University.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95dd9c7e80680e05dc32jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>All Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA/SONIA AWALE</figcaption></figure>This is the age of surveillance capitalism, where algorithms determine election outcomes, Siri knows what you want before you do, wearables correctly deduce the state of the heart and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/so-you-want-to-quit-facebook/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Facebook</a> recognises friends.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/natural-intelligence/">Natural Intelligence</a>, Duksangh Sherpa<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/outdated-laws-limited-ecommerce-hold-back-tech-industry%20,3547">Kathmandu's Silicon Alley and the Law</a>, Sonia AwaleAI simply imitates human thinking by recognising patterns in data, so that repetitive everyday work can be done by machines that learn as they go along.Nepal missed the bus on natural resource processing, manufacturing and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/outdated-laws-limited-ecommerce-hold-back-tech-industry%20,3547" target="_blank" rel="noopener">information technology</a>. But experts say that training a critical mass of engineers in AI can allow the country’s economy to leapfrog and become globally competitive.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e09c7e80680e05dc33jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="450"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e29c7e80680e05dc34jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="450"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img title="page-14-15d" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e49c7e80680e05dc35jpeg.jpg" alt="page-14-15d"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e69c7e80680e05dc36jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="450"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Fusemachines Director of Academic Affairs Bülent Uyaniker, who was in Nepal recently, rejects the notion that Nepal is not ready for artificial intelligence applications. “It is happening already, it is inevitable. If there can be 8<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-message-is-the-medium/">.5 million Facebook users</a> in Nepal, then it has the special conditions for AI.”Proof of this is the increasing number of software companies in Nepal using local engineering talent to work on software solutions for customers in North America or Europe. However, most of the engineers and recent graduates need training in AI to keep up with customer requirements. America alone will need 200,000 data scientists in the next five years, and most of these will come from the UK, Finland, Canada, Singapore, China and India.Which is why Fusemachines Nepal is also emphasising education. Says the head of its global operations and strategy, Sumana Shrestha: “You cannot learn AI in a one-day bootcamp, it needs intelligent mathematics, but there is a huge demand versus supply gap for engineers proficient in machine learning or other AI components everywhere.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e89c7e80680e05dc37jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/it-is-all-about-it-in-nepal,3887" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's all about IT</a>, Sahina Shrestha<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Drones to the rescue</a>, Lucia de VriesNepal established itself as a sought after destination in the past 20 years <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/it-is-all-about-it-in-nepal,3887" target="_blank" rel="noopener">for outsourcing services</a> such as software and app development, website design and big data management to overseas clients, mostly due to the country’s inexpensive English-speaking workforce.This move from IT to AI will not just create jobs in Nepal, but also allow the country to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">increase efficiency and productivity in the workplace</a>. General practitioners in rural hospitals will be able to make diagnoses faster so they can spend more time with patients, high-risk individuals can be identified with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/think-pink-breast%20cancer-diagnosis-treatment,3877" target="_blank" rel="noopener">cancer screening</a>, and targeted advertising and customised itineraries will lure <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/bringing-in-two-miilion-tourists,3551">potential tourists during Visit Nepal 2020</a>.Recently, a group of engineering students developed a model to help <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/are-you-sick-of-chicken/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">poultry</a> entrepreneurs understand fowl behaviour and the state of their animals’ health, helping them to raise the farm’s business profile.“With precision livestock farming we can generate patterns to help farmers recognise symptoms before an outbreak of a disease by implementing AI components such as image processing and deep learning,” explained engineering student Sajil Awale at Pulchok Engineering Campus. “This allows for timely intervention to prevent mass deaths and reduce losses.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/tap-and-tour%20,3638" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tap and tour</a>, Clara BullockComputer vision (which enables computers to see and process images as humans would) can also help identify rotten fruit swiftly, and prevent <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/banned-pesticides-are-widely-used-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">misuse of pesticides</a> by identifying areas on the farm that require chemicals, and the amounts needed. AI can also estimate future harvests, allowing farmers time to find markets for produce.Engineers at Fusemachines Nepal are working on Nepal’s first optical character recognition (OCR) system so forms filled out with Nepali handwriting can be digitised and translated into English. This will have huge scope in Nepal’s banking, hospital and government sectors, where pen and paper continues to be the norm.Sixit Bhatta, CEO of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/three-toots-for-tootle/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ride-sharing startup Tootle</a>, says Nepal is ripe for AI applications: “Our efforts now should be on preparing for a world in which machines perform skills-oriented tasks and for humans to take on the roles that require creativity and empathy. But before that, the government should design policies that allow AI to grow, and not restrict it.”Sumana Shrestha at Fusemachines Nepal says that as long as salaries for clerical staff are low, there is less potential for AI to flourish. But she adds: “The curse of cheap labour means companies will prefer to employ people to do repetitive work. But sooner or later, AI will be here. Nepal needs to develop despite government. And the private sector needs to prepare itself for disruption.”Coming to terms with AI Artificial Intelligence: Ability of computer systems or machines to make a decision like humans, or the ability to perform tasks requiring human intelligenceMachine Learning: A subset of artificial intelligence that provides a system with the ability to automatically learn and improve from experience without being explicitly programmed, relying on patterns generated from dataDeep Learning: Machine learning that is applied on a large set of data, also known as deep neural learning that uses deep neural networks to model complicated dataNatural Language Processing: Interaction between computers and human languages, deals with programming computers to process and analyse natural (human) language, this field of AI processes, analyses, interprets and distills information from human languagesComputer Vision: Enables computers to see, identify and process images in the same way that human vision doesImage Processing: Part of computer vision that entails analysis and manipulation to find insights from a digitised imageBig Data: Extremely large data sets on which AI is applied to reveal patterns, trends and associations and make decisions<h2>Making Nepalis artificially intelligent</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95ec9c7e80680e05dc38jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="990"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>During a visit to Nepal six years ago, Columbia University professor Sameer Maskey handpicked three students from engineering schools across Kathmandu who were able to solve a mathematical equation. The three went on to become the core of <a href="https://www.fusemachines.com/">Fusemachines</a>, a global company that aims to democratise artificial intelligence (AI) through education and software solutions.Headquartered in New York, Fusemachines has since opened branches in Canada, UK and the Dominican Republic to develop intelligent software solutions that have transformed brands and businesses around the world. One of its biggest operations is in Nepal, Fusemachines employs 100 top Nepali software engineers who work on projects that use AI applications in fields ranging from telecommunications and banking to hospitals and governance.Unlike other back office companies that work on outsourced software development, Fusemachines is a school in itself, training engineers while coming up with product solutions.“We employ senior engineers and industry experts with PhDs along with upcoming engineers, who work together to solve client-specific problems though AI,” explains <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/share-a-ride-Kathmandu,2738" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sumana Shrestha</a> who heads Fusemachines’ global operations and strategy. “Such collaborative approach allows young talent to continuously learn and grow.”Following Maskey’s vision, Fusemachines tries to make AI accessible to everyone through education, which is why it initially offered training fellowships and then, to meet the demand for engineers, launched AI Shikshya — a year-long, in-house training program.“With our own proprietary platform and content we have partnered with engineering colleges in Kathmandu to offer AI,” says Shrestha. “The program is a blend of online and on-site, the course material is not too academic, is industry focused and instructors are seasoned engineers up to date with new algorithms.”The company also has its own AI schools, open to professionals who want to grow their business or anyone interested. Fusemachines also offers a foundation course, open to high school graduates. A year-long, micro-degree program consisting of four major courses — including machine learning, deep thinking, natural language processing and computer vision — will be the next step.“In school we were always presented with clean data sets to work on but that is rarely the case on the job. But this year-long training program gets people ready to take on real-life problems and provide AI solutions,” says Rojesh Shikharkar, engineer at Fusemachines Nepal and a post-grad at Pulchok Engineering Campus.Apart from training, Fusemachines has given engineers who would otherwise have migrated to work in the US and Europe an opportunity to find meaningful work in Nepal.Says Shrestha: “If you create opportunities here, people might actually stay, and once we have mass education in artificial intelligence, companies here will start adopting and see the value of AI products, ensuring more opportunities at home.”

Sonia Awale

Bringing Silicon Valley to Kathmandu Valley

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=quNIH9UyXBI&amp;feature=youtu.beKathmandu’s overcrowded public buses are a daily challenge for commuters, but they are virtually impossible for the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-right-of-passage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">visually impaired</a> and people with disabilities. Fortunately there is now <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/outdated-laws-limited-ecommerce-hold-back-tech-industry%20,3547" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tootle</a>, the motorcycle ride-sharing app, for people like massage therapist Junu Shrestha, 31, who likes the door-to-door service.“I am a female and a blind one at that. Micros are unsafe, taxis are expensive, but Tootle is affordable and convenient,” says Shrestha (pictured below) who commutes every day to work at a Boudha branch of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/touching-and-feeling-seeing-hands,4105" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Seeing Hands</a>, the blind massage therapy centres in Kathmandu.Chiran Paudel, 35, is fed up with extortion from taxi drivers taking advantage of his inability to see. Paudel tells his female colleagues to avoid micros and taxis, and call Tootle or the other ride-sharing app, <a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.pathao.user&amp;hl=en" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Pathao</a>, instead.“I can’t count the number of times I’ve been cheated by taxi drivers,” says Paudel, who also works for Seeing Hands.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41919c7e80680e04a681jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="359"/><figcaption>All photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Kushal Pandey, 26, is partially blind, and says it is nearly impossible to get on crowded buses. “As soon as conductors see our walking stick or someone on a wheelchair they speed off, and if the driver does stop it is impossible to get the seat for the disabled.”It is no coincidence that <a href="https://tootle.today/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tootle</a>, which has been facing hurdles over taxation, has taken off among female commuters and people living with disabilities, who find public transport difficult and dangerous. Women make up half of Tootle’s users — and roughly 10% of the service's drivers — and there are more than 150 visually impaired riders a day.“The Tootle app was developed to give everyone the freedom of movement, especially those living with disabilities, women who face <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/going-under-cover-bus-sting-operation%20,3889" target="_blank" rel="noopener">harassment in crowded public transport</a> and those without personal vehicles,” says CEO Sixit Bhatta, who adds that the firm’s software engineers have worked with the visually impaired and those with disabilities to make the app more user friendly.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41949c7e80680e04a682jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">Roma Neupane lost her left leg in an accident when she was eight. She is now a famous <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14509#.XOaYW1IzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">one-legged dancer</a> and actress in Nepali movies. But despite her popularity, she hasn’t been able to travel easily to shoots around Kathmandu.“I have to perform all over the city and often times the shoot goes late into night; I now manage it all with Tootle,” says Neupane, who calls for rides up to four times a day and to get home at night. “The drivers now know me and treat me like their sister.”In the two years since its launch, the ride-sharing startup has also amassed support among the general public, created 10,000 jobs, and now serves thousands of passengers a day. Much more challenging has been navigating Nepal’s byzantine tax laws and the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-budding-e-commerce-ecosystem/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">lack of electronic micropayments</a>.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121144/636a41979c7e80680e04a683jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">Bhimmaya Sunuwar (pictured driving the motorcycle above) a mother of two from Dharan, works as a Tootle driver from 9AM-3PM, when she is free from her duties as a mother and homemaker. She makes Rs30,000 a month, and Tootle does not take any fee from women drivers like her.Says the 37-year-old: “The best thing is that the working hours are flexible and I can choose to ride when I want to. And the money is handy.”

Three toots for Tootle

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Mamata Kumari Yadav was born just before her father passed his high school exam on his second attempt. Which is why Ram Kewal Ray thinks his daughter brings good luck. Mamata is now a government civil servant, and has three sisters and a younger brother. All are doing well in their professions: one is a doctor at the Army Hospital, another has an MSc in Microbiology, and the other is working in Australia after finishing her MPh. Her brother, an engineering student, is in Kathmandu. “It was all because our parents prioritised education that we did so well in life,” says Mamata. Instead of being woken up to do household chores or work on the family farm, they were encouraged to finish their homework first. While Ram showed his daughters the way and encouraged them to study, it was Sanjeev Karn, a primary school teacher at a school near their home, who motivated them to do well. On International Women's Day, the story of Mamata and her sisters is an inspiring account of dedication, hard work and good guidance.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260309070332_e15e07735cf958367ccf7457f17b181ca168def7d3c7cf01a6d1fc76559e1422" data-rendition-name="original" width="873" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Samata, Punam, Kumudini and Mamata, the four accomplished Yadav sisters from Sarlahi</figcaption> </figure>  Boys always came first in class, but that changed when Mamata and her sisters started excelling in their studies. All four sisters consistently ranked first in their classes and became widely known in the community for their performance. “My friend Sanjay Chaudhary was my biggest competition and used to stand second. He is an engineer now. We are still good friends and laugh about how we were rivals,” recalls Mamata. In a school where no girl had previously passed the high school exam with first division, Mamata became the first to do so and set a record that her sisters later followed. Her uncle in Kathmandu called her father Ram Kewal with the news that Mamata had passed in the first division. Overjoyed, her father went to school and bought Fanta for all her teachers in celebration.&nbsp; Mamata went to Chitwan after receiving a scholarship for a health assistant course. Although her school in Sarlahi was Nepali-medium, she was not able to speak the language properly and felt more comfortable using Maithili. In the new environment, she struggled with language and confidence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260309070324_030cd8d2bd9eb6334b5dac6f402253a582e4f3c64d03ef820327935b6dd2346e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata in Sarlahi with her siblings and father when she was young</figcaption> </figure>  She was surprised to learn that Maithili is not spoken all over Nepal. The course was demanding, the textbooks were in English, the student community was diverse, and academic expectations were high. But Mamata began building friendships and confidence. Her sisters later joined her in Chitwan. Mamata returned to Sarlahi and began working with an organisation as a counsellor on sexually transmitted infections. It was her first job, and was proud to be able to support her father. Her second job with a non-profit required field visits across Sarlahi district, so she bought her own second-hand scooter.&nbsp; “Some neighbours did not approve that my parents gave me so much freedom, but they did not pay much heed to such warnings or gossip,” she says. Seeking stability she prepared for the civil service exam for auxiliary health worker position and was stationed in Sindhupalchok. When her father came to drop her off, being used to flat land he was a bit nervous about the steep mountains and 90-minute commute on foot. But he was proud to hear her patients call her ‘doctor’. Later, Mamata transferred back to her home district of Sarlahi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260309070324_2a91efea2735ba33b6e7945d46ce1c8c8f014679f14909829be3247f68619f78" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Mamata Kumari Yadav</figcaption> </figure>  On a work trip to Kathmandu, on her family's recommendation she met a young man who was pursuing a master’s degree in engineering. Their first meeting was at a cafe in the presence of her brother. She found him simple, gentle, and committed to his studies, qualities that resonated with her own personality.&nbsp; “We got married, and my parents did not have to invest in dowry for me and my sisters because they had invested in us,” recalls Mamata, who then became a health post in-charge in Lalitpur. Following administrative restructuring, she found herself reporting to juniors, which limited her sense of growth. She then decided to prepare for the civil service exams in administration. Coming from a health background, the syllabus was unfamiliar and broad. Her first attempt taken without much preparation was unsuccessful, a first failure ever for Mamata.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260309070328_19fa4ca6fde0d8a9311116c64302eddc08f22280632fc16a83c489194ef06120" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="The Girl Dad of Nepal"> <figcaption>Seeing off her sister Samata who studied MPH under the AusAID Scholarship</figcaption> </figure>  By this time, she had a son and the exam took a back seat for two years while managing her health post and raising him. When he turned two, she sent her son to Sarlahi, where her mother Phul Kumari took care of him so she could focus on her studies. This time, she passed. She became the first from her family in a government administrative position. After gaining enough experience, she aims to go back to the Madhes to serve in government positions as an honest bureaucrat. Her parents continue as they always have. Phul Kumari takes care of the household while Ram Kewal runs a pharmacy and tends to the farm back in Sarlahi. &nbsp; “We daughters owe a lot to our parents because our peers were never given the kinds of opportunities we had,” says Mamata. “They were married young and now have adult children. There is nothing girls cannot do if given the right guidance and opportunities.”

The Girl Dad of Nepal

Amidst the euphoria in Nepal about the RSP’s landslide victory, the party’s future government, possibly led by Balendra Shah will plunge headlong into an energy and economic crisis sparked by the war in West Asia. Nepal gets all its diesel, petrol, gas and aviation fuel from India and lacks a strategic stockpile to buffer against shortages. The United States has unsanctioned Russian crude oil to India for one month, but India will only export refined petroleum products to Nepal after meeting its own domestic demand. As it is, India has only 10 days of stockpile of cooking gas and it is giving preference to household use. Energy experts say new oil and gas supplies from Russia and elsewhere will take another month to arrive at Indian ports. “This conflict didn’t develop overnight, yet we did nothing to augment our reserves. Clearly, we didn’t manage procurement anticipating supply disruptions,” says economist Pushkar Bajracharya. The conflict has escalated, seriously disrupting global petroleum supplies. Nearly 20% of the world’s oil and gas moves out of the Strait of Hormuz which is now blocked. The Persian Gulf makes up most of the oil and liquified natural gas supplied to Japan (75%), India (50%) and China (38%). Crude oil prices have nearly doubled to $100 a barrel this week.&nbsp; “This crisis is only going to intensify, so in the short term, it means fuel prices will increase as will the cost of goods and services,” adds Bajracharya. “This doesn’t bode well for the new government, especially when people have such high expectations from it.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1315" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Strait of Hormuz NT"> </figure>  Fuel stoppages from India have happened before, notably during the 2015 Blockade. But Nepal could be better placed this time to cushion the shock because of the proliferation of battery-operated vehicles, and electrification of household cooking to some extent. “The increase in electric vehicles provides some relief, but it is not enough,” says energy economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “Most critical services still run on diesel, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”&nbsp; Nepal’s expanding road network means diesel and petrol consumption is also increasing. If the war drags on, there will be a critical shortage of aviation fuel that could also hurt tourism at the start of the trekking and mountaineering season. There is already a nationwide shortage of cooking gas which is used by 62% of Nepali households. &nbsp; The fuel crisis will have a knock-on effect on the economy which the RSP government will have to tackle on an emergency footing as soon as it comes into office. The priority would be to cap fuel prices with subsidies, control hoarding, and in the longer term expedite the switch to electricity for transportation and cooking.&nbsp; MONEY IN The other impact will be on jobs in West Asia and remittances. Nearly half the $11 billion a year Nepalis send home every year comes from West Asian countries. Nepal’s hard currency reserves have hit a record high $21.09 billion, but that cash will be of no use if there is no fuel to buy. A sharp drop in remittances due to the collapse of the economies of the Gulf states if the war is prolonged will have a multiplier impact particularly on Nepalis' household expenses and the country’s economy in general. This in turn will have a knock-on effect on investment, and affect the RSP government’s main agenda which is to create jobs at home. The vicious cycle will then mean that more Nepalis will want to migrate for overseas jobs, but options in the Gulf may not be available. The RSP’s ministers in government will have to come up with innovative ways to re-integrate Nepalis forced to return because they lose their jobs, or for safety reasons. There are nearly 2 million Nepalis across the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and another 7,000 mainly women caregivers in Israel. “Other than the impact on remittances and the economy, there could be the additional challenge of rescuing over 2 million Nepalis in West Asia if it comes to that,” says Bajracharya. “We don’t have the resources, and we will have to rely on India’s logistical help.” The RSP’s main vote bank was among global Nepalis, who could not cast &nbsp;ballots themselves but influenced families and friends back home to choose the party. Social media was abuzz with slogans that promoted how choosing the RSP would bring their children back home from the Gulf. “The RSP got a majority, and that’s a good thing but voters came together to oppose UML, NC and the Maoists. But there is no clear ideology or philosophy, so while their slogan to bring Nepalis back from the Gulf sounds nice, what would they come back to?” asks Gyawali. The Nepali diaspora in the Gulf that influenced the electorate so effectively will now be looking at how the government it helped get to power in Kathmandu will help as war engulfs the region.&nbsp; There is an almost unrealistically high expectation of the RSP, and the party may not even get the customary 100-day honeymoon period. The cabinet could be put together easily enough, but the bureaucracy, judiciary, police, and the Upper House are all populated by loyalists of the old parties. Despite bad blood, the RSP will have to work together with all parties in the face of the crisis unleashed by the war. And Nepal’s politicised foreign policy must be galvanised to deal with the crisis.