When the United Nations held its Summit of the Future at its headquarters in New York in September, many world leaders, including Nepal’s Prime Minister K P Oli, highlighted the effect of climate breakdown in increasing the frequency and intensity of natural disasters. What did not get as much attention was the long term impact of the climate crisis on food production. In fact, heat stress, weather extremes and the consequences on rain-fed agriculture is already being felt worldwide, undermining the chances of the <a href="https://unstats.un.org/sdgs/">UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)</a> being met by 2030.&nbsp; The SDG’s 17 targets commit countries like Nepal to reduce poverty and inequality, end malnutrition, protect the natural environment, and ensure that citizens all enjoy health, justice and prosperity without leaving anyone behind.&nbsp; However, besides the impact of climate breakdown on agricultural production, in Nepal the area under cultivation is impacted by urban expansion, falling productivity and the need for expensive inputs like fertiliser and pesticides.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Kathmandu's urban sprawl is eating into its fertile cultivable lands. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  Now, a new study led by Nepali researcher Prajal Pradhan at the University of Groningen in The Netherlands looks at how urban agriculture may offer a solution to falling food production and meeting SDG targets. The researchers evaluated 1,450 publications exploring the contributions of urban agriculture with both positive and negative effects, and published their findings in the journal Cells Report Sustainability. Urban agriculture can help achieve 17 SDGs, positively influencing 81 targets. However, it could also undermine 51 goals.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land">The vanishing land</a>, Taylor Mason “Urban agriculture offers immense potential for sustainable development, but realising this potential depends crucially on adopting practices that minimise its adverse effects while maximising its benefits,” Pradhan explains. Urban agriculture can substantially enhance urban food security, provide employment to the urban poor, serve as ground water recharge in built-up areas, and preserve open spaces that can serve as safe havens during disasters like earthquakes. However, it also presents problems like the potential health risks from contamination and the need for expensive inputs. &nbsp; “Urban agriculture plays a definitive role in advancing the SDGs, but achieving this requires tailored, context-specific solutions that address the unique challenges of different regions,” says Yuanchao Hu of Wuhan University in China and who is a researcher at the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research. “But it needs equitable access and rigorous management of environmental risks.”&nbsp; Rapid urbanisation is eating into Nepal’s most fertile agricultural land, which means farming in remaining open spaces inside cities can be a viable alternative, especially as food prices rise.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>A vegetable patch in between new houses in Thimi. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  “The conversion of Nepal’s most fertile land into cities is a severe problem,” Pradhan told Nepali Times. “Crop cultivation, horticulture, agroforestry, beekeeping, livestock rearing, or aquaculture can all be farming activities within and around cities.”&nbsp; The study makes recommendations for sustainable practices that build on the positive aspects of urban agriculture while mitigating the downsides, thereby promoting more resilient cities in future. Research shows that urban agriculture has been helping many countries attain SDG targets by enhancing food security and biodiversity while helping education and preservation of open spaces.&nbsp; Indeed, many farmers from the hinterland who have settled in Kathmandu Valley or other urban areas of the country have been practicing urban agriculture, leasing neighbourhood patches or cultivating roof gardens both out of necessity because of inflation and falling income to grow their own food, and also as a fulfilling hobby. Saurav Dhakal, a sustainability advocate with Story Cycle and now research fellow at the Asian Institute of Technology in Thailand, says there are socio-economic and environmental benefits of urban agriculture. “It provides benefits to all urban dwellers, regardless of their income status,” says Dhakal, “families get fresh food, and there are many other benefits like water retention, heat regulation and biodiversity. These are all public goods, so special government incentives may be needed.” It is not unusual to see vegetable patches and even paddy fields within inner city Kathmandu where an older generation of farmers are using available fertile land and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/rooftop-gardens-kathmandu,1415">roof gardens to produce fresh, nutritious food </a>to reduce their dependence on food items that have to be bought after being trucked in from large distances.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>An older generation of farmers are using any available fertile land to continue farming but it is getting more and more difficult. Photo: TAYLOR MASON </figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s urban population grew rapidly from only 3.6% in 1991 to 25% today. There is large outmigration from the mountains to peri-urban areas of the Tarai, to Kathmandu Valley and Pokhara, with many young men then moving abroad for work. Kathmandu Valley’s population has swelled to nearly 3 million, and is growing at 6.5% a year. Dilip Shrestha, 71, used to work for Nepal Food Corporation, so he knew firsthand about inflation, shortages and vegetables with pesticide residue. So, when he designed his new house in Kathmandu, he built a spacious roof where he grows cucumber, ginger, garlic, coriander, onions, tomatoes, chili, beans, okra, pumpkin and lettuce. His family eats healthier, and he has reduced dependence on the market.&nbsp; The co-author of the Cell Reports Sustainability journal article, Daya Raj Subedi who is a PhD candidate at Beijing Forestry University, says urban agriculture also promotes inclusion and psycho-social wellbeing.&nbsp; He says, “A crucial finding of the study is the identification of opportunities and challenges associated with urban agriculture, it can promote sustainable transformation of society.” In Banepa, 55-year-old Bijaya Manandhar in her lifetime has watched the fertile farms of her neighbourhood that used to supply vegetables to Kathmandu, now completely built up with no open space left. The pandemic lockdown prompted her to turn to the family’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world">ancestral livelihood by growing food</a> not on terrace farms, but on the roof terrace. Manandhar is now a part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world%5C%5C">कौसी खेती र करेसाबारी क्रान्ती</a> (Rooftop Farming and Garden Revolution) which has an online membership of 52,000, and awards annual prizes to women who excel in urban agriculture.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="736" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Rooftop farming is gaining popularity as a form of urban agriculture. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> </figure>  Pradhan says the challenge now is to upscale such examples of successful urban agricultural practices so they support Neal’s efforts to meet SDG targets. He adds, “Crop cultivation around cities can be protected by land use plans and regulations. Promoting community-based agriculture, including rooftop gardens, requires community engagement and public-private partnerships across the food value chain.”&nbsp; Such support would accelerate the popularity of existing rooftop farming and community gardens in Kathmandu Valley, or kitchen garden initiatives in Pokhara, and building on traditional farming practices that are preserved and integrated into urban settings like in Bhaktapur and Banepa. In Lalitpur, the Women Entrepreneurship Facilitation Center promotes urban farming enhancing both sustainability and empowerment.&nbsp; Another co-author of the report, Yuanchao Hu from China says followup research of the team will aim to identify good practices in local urban agriculture practices. He adds, “There are examples of urban agriculture that optimise sustainability, ensuring that it remains a viable solution for cities globally while countries try to meet SDG targets.” Prajal Pradhan, Daya Raj Subedi, Kshitij Dahal, Yuanchao Hu, Prakriti Gurung, Sijal Pokharel, Sagar Kafle, Biplav Khatri, Sudeeksha Basyal, Monika Gurung, and Aruna Joshi. Urban Agriculture matters for sustainable development. Cell Reports Sustainability, 1:100217, 2024. [DOI: 10.1016/j.crsus.2024.100217] Prajal Pradhan (<a href="mailto:p.pradhan@rug.nl">p.pradhan@rug.nl</a>) This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

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Back to the land in the cities

Kathmandu Valley, once known for its bumper harvests of rice, has seen declining production because urban expansion is devouring once fertile rice fields.&nbsp; There are still some terraces on the outskirts of the city that have rice fields, but even these are threatened by new settlements. The same is true of Pokhara Valley, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/pokhara-tries-to-save-its-famous-paddy" target="_blank">home to Pokhreli, Jetha Buda</a> and other brands of indigenous rice. The middle of Asar is time for rice planting, and 29 June was the supposed to be <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/not-so-soon-monsoon/" target="_blank">National Paddy Plantation Day</a>. It is a festival not just for transplanting paddy seedlings on water-logged fields, but also for jubiliation and merrymaking. This year, there was not much to celebrate on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-celebrates-paddy-planting-day/" target="_blank">Paddy Planting Day</a>. Only 10% of farms across Nepal have transplanted paddy seedlings, whereas the normal figure for end-June is double that.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630100624_89fa0f1ab01aa249120c080bda65230d98bfd9799adf6f066b16c56cc1bae611.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240630100624_89fa0f1ab01aa249120c080bda65230d98bfd9799adf6f066b16c56cc1bae611" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Rice plantation Nepal"> <figcaption>An excavator makes way for land plotting even as a child prepares to plant rice saplings in Bhaktapur's Sipadol this week. </figcaption> </figure>  The monsoon has been starting weeks later than its usual arrival in Nepal in mid-June, which many experts <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-change-hits-himalayan-rice" target="_blank">blame on climate breakdown</a>. This year, the rains actually arrived a week early in the aftermath of Cyclone Remal, and unleashed floods and landslides in eastern Nepal in mid-June, while the western half of the country was enduring a prolonged drought. The clouds did advance up to central Nepal, but the rains fizzled out. When the monsoon did arrive in Kathmandu Valley on 27 June, it had been too little too late. Kathmandu Valley usually received 250mm of rain in June, this year the figure so far has been only 125mm. The chronic lack of subsidised fertiliser during the planting season due to an inefficient government procurement and delivery mechanism also meant that many farmers were not ready to transplant paddy even if the rains came. Rice is grown in Kathmandu and other mountaion valleys, in the Tarai and up to 3,200m in Jumla, which is famous for its nutritious <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/himalayan-red-rice-is-red-hot" target="_blank">red Marasi rice</a>.&nbsp; The Tarai is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepals-rice-economy" target="_blank">Nepal’s rice basket</a>, producing most of its paddy. Although the plains cover 15% of Nepal’s area, 53% of the population lives there. Here too, settlements along highways and major intersections are eating into rice fields.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630100632_051ccb4df85ee10f1f44fc67a32b3d6666bf438c00b9f5a51ef2df5fab5a0b01.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240630100632_051ccb4df85ee10f1f44fc67a32b3d6666bf438c00b9f5a51ef2df5fab5a0b01" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Rice planttion in Nepal"> <figcaption>Kathmandu's unrestrained growth as seen from Halchok in 2020.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630100632_68dff2295cf039e50ad743ece4bb1473fd55e9c36e571f92259a882a073b558e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240630100632_68dff2295cf039e50ad743ece4bb1473fd55e9c36e571f92259a882a073b558e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Rice production in nepal"> <figcaption>In this photo from 2021, hills in the outskits of Kathmandu Valley have been cleared for land development. </figcaption> </figure>  So far this year, rice planting has started in only 3% of the area of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/grain-drain" target="_blank">Madhes Province</a> because of the delayed rains and a prolonged heatwave. The province produces a quarter of Nepal’s rice in a normal year. The western Tarai has been particularly badly hit by a heatwave that lasted into June with daytime temperatures soaring to 45°Celsius and staying there. Rainfed farms have not planted rice, and those that used to pump water from tubewells have not been able to do so because of a falling watertable.&nbsp; Outmigration from rural areas and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/agroecology-nepal-s-answer-to-climate-change" target="_blank">falling rice production</a> has become a chicken-or-egg story: is rice production falling because people are turning away from farming, or is declining paddy production driving people away from agriculture? The annual Rice Day has therefore become not a time for celebration, but a reminder of how much <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/are-nepalis-really-eating-more-rice/" target="_blank">Nepal is more dependent on the import</a> of rice than before. Nepal spent Rs35 billion last year to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-agro-imports-at-all-time-high/" target="_blank">import rice and paddy</a>, which was a slight decline from the previous year, but is still more than all its exports. Nepalis are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/are-nepalis-really-eating-more-rice" target="_blank">eating more rice</a> than ever before as people turn away from traditional grains like millet and buckwheat, and because of a falling poverty rate as well as the spread of the road network.&nbsp; Still, the country’s population growth rate is outpacing increase in rice harvests. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-price-of-rice" target="_blank">Rice productivity</a> has hit an all-time high of 3.8 tons/hectare with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepal,2378" target="_blank">irrigation and mechanisation</a>, but total production is not increasing as much because of a decrease in area under rice cultivation. Nepal once used to be a rice exporting country. If current trends continue, Nepal will be spending nearly everything it earns from remittances in importing petroleum products and rice.

Pouring concrete on rice fields

For a year or two after the 25 April 2015 earthquake, the residents of Kathmandu were too terrified to return to their high-rise apartments. None of them collapsed in the 7.8 disaster, but many sustained serious structural damage. &nbsp;
Fast forward nine years, and they have all but forgotten that frightful day. Kathmandu is back to building substandard structures, even as land prices drive developers to build taller.&nbsp;
With no more space to spread horizontally, Kathmandu is going vertical. But structural engineers say most of the high rises do not take into account seismicity, soil condition, construction methods, quality of raw materials, fire hazard, and search and rescue in collapsed concrete structures.
“Much of our focus since the 2015 earthquake has been on building and construction, but not as much on where we are building,” warns Sangeeta Singh, Professor of Urban Planning and Deputy Director of Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">In a disastrous state</a>, Sonia Awale
She adds: “Kathmandu is not really suited for high-rises. We have to first test the condition of the soil, but building permits are being issued without this fundamental step.”
Kathmandu Valley is a former lakebed with soft topsoil prone to liquefaction and excessive shaking, as seen during the 1934 megaquake. Many ruptures tore up the surface in 2015. &nbsp;
During an earthquake, the rock layers below Kathmandu ring like a bell and the vibrations on the surface take between 0.5 to 2 seconds for one oscillation. Buildings also vibrate, but at different frequencies depending on their height, construction material, and arrangement of their structural components.
At five floors, the vibration period of a building is 0.5 seconds, which is the same as that for Kathmandu Valley, and this could cause more damage, says structural engineer Surya Narayan Shrestha at the National Society for Earthquake Technology - Nepal (NSET).
“Building anything that is five storeys or higher in Kathmandu needs special design and structural considerations,” says Shrestha.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/shaking-things-up">Shaking things up</a>, Editorial
Technologies exist to reduce seismic risk in high-rises, and these are used in earthquake-prone cities like Tokyo, Los Angeles, Jakarta or Mexico City.&nbsp;
Base isolation, for example, separates the vibration of the land and the building, reducing damage from soil-building resonance. Base isolators move and stretch under pressure, absorbing much of an earthquake's impact by reducing swaying and shaking. &nbsp;
Seismic dampers change the pattern of vibration altogether, dissipating energy as vibrations move across a structure. But these are all expensive technologies, and none of the high-rises in Kathmandu use them.
However, Nepali engineers who can help with technology transfer are working in the field in Nepal and overseas. Kathmandu’s high-rises are already very expensive, and making them seismic-resistant would be an incremental cost.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/learning-from-jajarkot-what-we-didnt-after-2015-695vpzle">Learning from Jajarkot what we didn't after 2015</a>, Sushil Gyewali
The shape of high-rises also matters. Reinforced concrete buildings with asymmetric designs of the kind that are seen in newer structures in Kathmandu experience more torsion and shear during quakes. High-rises with regular geometry are stronger. &nbsp;&nbsp;
An even bigger concern is that of emergency evacuation and rescue in case of fire or earthquake. Kathmandu fire services do not have ladders that reach the higher floors of most new structures.
“High-rises mean more people and potentially higher casualties,” explains Shrestha. “We need immediate evacuation routes, fire escapes, emergency ladders, and fire trucks that can reach higher. Right now, safety features are voluntary and not mandatory.”
The street access, shelters, open spaces, and evacuation routes are integral to disaster preparedness and the safety of neighbourhoods and not just buildings. Most new high-rises in Kathmandu have narrow access roads.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later">Rebuilding resilience 7 years later</a>, Anil Pokhrel
Since most of the buildings that survived the 2015 disaster were reinforced concrete structures, it fed the misconception that they are safer. But Himalayan seismologists say that if the intensity and duration of the shaking had been just a little higher, many substandard concrete structures would have collapsed.&nbsp;
And that is the final gap: Nepal’s limited expertise and equipment for search and rescue inside collapsed concrete structures. Kathmandu’s high-rises need to be better prepared for the next Big One.
“Structural safety and design were at the front and the centre after the 2015 earthquake, we also revised some building codes but we are back to square one with contractor-driven construction, especially in peri-urban areas,” says Sangeeta Singh, who is also with the National Planning Commission. “We need to monitor construction as much as design.”&nbsp;
Shrestha at NSET agrees there have been improvements in building practices in the past nine years, but adds, “We have both learnt and unlearnt lessons from 2015. The awareness hasn’t yet translated into action on safety.”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">Lessons not learned from 2015</a>, Sonia Awale

Sonia Awale

The rise of high-rises

<figure><img width="1600" height="1200" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2af9c7e80680e0d3031jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Green onions grown recycling plastic waste at Manandhar’s rooftop. Photo: BIJAYA MANANDHAR</figcaption></figure>When the Covid-19 pandemic disrupted food supply, Bijaya Manandhar, did not anticipate that her life would be ruined upside down.Her hometown of Banepa has seen the city expand rapidly, obliterating much of the surrounding fertile plains. So the 52-year-old just went back to her ancestral livelihood — not on terrace farms, but on her rooftop terrace.“The food on my plate now comes from my roof,” says Manandhar proudly. “We had to regain our food self-sufficiency during the pandemic so we had no other option but to grow vegetables in our roof garden.” <figure><img width="1600" height="1145" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2b39c7e80680e0d3032jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Bijaya Manandhar tending her rooftop garden. Photo: BIJAYA MANANDHAR</figcaption></figure>Manandhar is part of an initiative Kausi Kheti and Karesabari Kranti (Rooftop Farming and Gardening Revolution) which has an online membership of 52,000.More than half the world’s population now lives in urban areas, and 80% of all food produced globally is consumed in cities. In future, the socio-economic and environmental sustainability of food systems will largely be determined by the diet of urban and peri-urban inhabitants. In Nepal, the urban population has spiked dramatically from 3.6% in 1991 to 6.5% in 2001, and is now 21%. Most of the migration took place during the conflict, and later families moved to urban areas for jobs. Kathmandu Valley, with an estimated population of 2.54 million, is growing at 6.5% per year, as one of the fastest-growing metropolitan areas in South Asia. <figure><img width="720" height="540" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2b79c7e80680e0d3033jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Women gardeners participating in Kausi Queen Competition 2078 organized in coordination of Banepa Municipality. Photo: BIJAYA MANANDHAR.</figcaption></figure>A survey in August 2020 found that one in every five households in Nepal during the pandemic did not have enough food to meet daily calorie requirements. Manandhar remembers as a child helping her family during the seasonal farming cycle, planting, weeding, harvesting. But there are now tall houses where her family farm once was. “The land is no longer for planting crops now, they now plant buildings there,” she says, gesturing at the houses from her rooftop. <figure><img width="1398" height="930" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2ba9c7e80680e0d3034jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Aerial images of house roofs with urban farming in Kanthu Tole, Banepa. Photo: GEOMATICS ENGINEERING SOCIETY, KATHMANDU UNIVERSITY.</figcaption></figure>Once known for its succulent vegetables that supplied the market in Kathmandu, Banepa is now the site for a research project by the Geomatics Engineering Society of the nearby Kathmandu University to study the scope for rooftop farming in the municipality. The study mapped roof spaces suitable for farming using OpenStreetMap to create geospatial data. This was a pioneering study, and could be upscaled nationwide if successful.“Our research not only tries to shed light on the trends and benefits of rooftop farming, but creates a baseline survey, database and information to be used in the future,” explains Rehana Shrestha, Doctoral Researcher at Universität Bremen and adviser to the urban rooftop farming project in Banepa.While the idea of rooftop farming is quite common and widely practised, the data regarding buildings, houses, and people practicing it in any peri-urban areas were thus far unavailable. That is why the open source OpenStreetMap (OSM) came in handy, as a platform to identify buildings with suitable roofs. The researchers still needed high-resolution imagery to map out Banepa’s buildings and roofs in detail.  <figure><img width="1397" height="933" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2c09c7e80680e0d3035jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Aerial images of house roofs with urban farming in Bhakteshwar, Banepa.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1412" height="933" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2c49c7e80680e0d3036jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Photo: GEOMATICS ENGINEERING SOCIETY, KATHMANDU UNIVERSITY</figcaption></figure>“We initially identified buildings, studied their types and shapes,” says Sushma Ghimire, a geospatial analyst. “Then we identified flat roofs and their types and created a database of the six wards in the municipality. Using OpenStreetMap, we have digitised every building footprint.” The research and database in Banepa could serve as a way forward in urban agricultural planning and policy-making that newly-elected local governments could implement. Locals like Bijaya Manandhar are on the frontlines of this research, since it is her expertise in farming that will make or break the experiment.  The project has the full support of Banepa’s newly-elected municipal officials, who have allocated a budget line for urban farming. Deputy Mayor Bimala Sapkota says: “To help rooftop farmers we will also distribute compost bins to turn kitchen waste into fertiliser and also train them in rainwater harvesting techniques.” <figure><img width="895" height="1012" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd2c89c7e80680e0d3037jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Maps showing temporal urban change in six wards of Banepa Municipality since 2000. Photo: GEOMATICS ENGINEERING SOCIETY, KATHMANDU UNIVERSITY</figcaption></figure>The OSM and geospatial data have also helped identify areas with water shortage by presenting a detailed overview of roofs and water tanks available in houses spread across different wards: for instance, the maps have shown an absence of rooftop tanks in Ward 7, indicating water scarcity. At Kanthu Tole, farmers use plastic bags, pots and styrofoam as containers to grow food on, and Narayan Thapa of the Geometrics Engineering Society says farmers can also experiment with vertical farming to increase the area under cultivation. Researcher Rehana Shrestha is confident that the project will infuse a new passion for rooftop farming, especially among younger members of households.“Projects like this provide opportunities for the empowerment of youth, cultivating a generation of young leaders, to create resilient communities,” she says. “And with climate-induced disasters, urban farming is more necessary than ever.” Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/four-years-later-nepal-farmers-rise-from-the-rubble/">Four years later, Nepal’s farmers rise from the rubble</a>, Lisa Choegyal

Rooftop agriculture on the roof of the world

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221207101212/639059869c7e80680e0ce1f3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1139" height="640"/><figcaption>All photos: GOPEN RAI</figcaption></figure>Over the last decades, Nepal’s socio-political transformation has led the country from an agriculturally-dependent rural nation to a country with expanding urban spaces.Although rural Nepalis are still dependent on farming, the contribution of agriculture to the country's economy has shrunk to 25%, while the expansion of banking, telecommunication, trade and other service sectors has been rapid.The Kathmandu Valley has nurtured 2,000 years of civilisation and culture, and is among the oldest and largest cities south of the Himalaya. Its thriving non-agricultural economic activity remained the one true Nepali urban centre for much of the country’s history -- to the extent that citizens outside of the city called it ‘Nepal’ in the past, considering the city a nation unto itself.The evolution of most cities outside the valley has emerged as a relatively new trend, after the expansion of trading centres along Nepal’s southern border following the extension of railway lines in north India by the British towards the end of the 19th century. Subsequently, cities in the hills — like Tansen, Dhankuta and Pokhara — emerged after the establishment of state administrations.However, access to road infrastructure like the East-West highway — which facilitated an increase in economic activity as well as migration from the central hills to the fertile southern plains—played a significant role in the establishment of major cities like Hetauda, Narayangad, Damak and Mahendranagar.But as many cities as there are now, most of them share similar characteristics: unorganised settlements, improperly managed urban infrastructure, and unequal access to opportunities. Urban planner Jagdish Chandra Pokharel says, "Nepal’s cities are chaotic because an adequate inclusive blueprint to make them liveable does not exist, and cities have little urban character to them because expansion often takes place without planning."Rather than urbanisation, Pokharel adds, there has been a “ruralisation of cities”.In the 2017 Nepal Labor Force Survey conducted by the Central Bureau of Statistics, 36.2% of respondents said that their residence was different from their place of birth, showing an increasing trend of internal migration. There were only 16 urban centres across the country according to the 1971 census, and Nepal’s urban population was 3.6%. Kathmandu was the only city with a population of more than 100,000, while only five other cities recorded a population of more than 20,000.But migration to the Tarai expanded in the 1970s, and more cities formed. By the time Nepal became a democracy in 1990, the market centres of the Madhes were connected to the hills, and the urban population expanded rapidly.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221207101212/639059899c7e80680e0ce1f4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="961" height="640">Nepal’s urban population growth rate grew almost three times in the last decade of the 20th century, and beyond. Fifty years after the 1971 census, data from the 2021 census puts the number of cities with a population of more than 100,000 at 39, most of them in the Tarai where urbanisation is concentrated.Even as internal migration has impacted the evolution of cities in Nepal, foreign employment has also had a hand on where Nepalis have settled. Nepal’s lahure, who returned from the British Army, began to resettle in cities in the 1970s, leading to an increase in population density in cities like Dharan, Pokhara, Bhairawa and Kathmandu.In the 1990s, Nepalis began leaving in droves to work in foreign countries other than India, changing the socio-economic dynamic of the country. This resulted in remittance income changing production, consumption and lifestyle of Nepalis, enabling rural families to migrate to urban hubs in search of better education and healthcare.Moreover, the decade-long armed insurgency also contributed to in-migration as Nepalis began to move away from rural Nepal— mostly to district headquarters and to Kathmandu. Subsequently, the second People’s Movement centralised Kathmandu’s power.The World Bank's 2016 Moving Up the Ladder, Poverty Reduction and Social Mobility in Nepal report states that Nepal's urbanisation is the fastest in South Asia, with the urban population expansion outpacing its 4% increase in annual GDP growth in the last few decades.The federal restructuring turned many of Nepal’s villages into municipalities without any clarity as to the economic criteria for changing the status of local administrative units. This means that 66% of Nepalis now live in cities, according to the 2021 National Census, and a significant number of the municipalities do not have urban characteristics.Across the world, cities are defined on the basis of population density, access to infrastructure, and the existence of a non-agriculture economy. Indeed, even Nepal’s National Urban Policy, 2007, stipulates that in order to be declared an ‘urban area’, the population density must be at least 10 people per hectare with more than half of the population engaged in non-agricultural activities. However, most of Nepal’s new cities do not meet that criteria.Urban planner Mahendra Subba argues that in Nepal, cities are declared on the basis of political decisions rather than any scientific procedure, and the policies are as ambiguous as they come. The National Urban Development Strategy 2017, states that the urban system in Nepal is imbalanced, with poor urban infrastructure, and inadequate standards.Adds Subba: "Water supply management, safe roads, quality housing, clean air, sufficient open space and waste management are important challenges to address.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221207101212/6390598c9c7e80680e0ce1f5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1586" height="1126"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Ruralisation of KathmanduThere is no better example to observe the flaws of urbanisation in Nepal than Kathmandu. Unsafe roads, polluted air, unmanaged traffic, inconvenient public transport, insufficient drinking water, garbage, and sewage mismanagement have become characteristic to the concrete jungle that is the capital.This disorganisation has not only taken away from the aesthetic of the city, but also increased disaster risks of earthquakes, floods and fire. Kathmandu is a city of villages.Access to water is at the top of Kathmandu’s problems. While global standards stipulate an individual have access to 120 litres of water daily, Kathmandu residents have less than half that amount.  In fact, Kathmandu’s population needs more than 450 million litres of water a day, but the supply does not amount to even a quarter of that. Even the Melamchi water supply project, which will bring 170 million litres of water per day, will not be enough to address Kathmandu's water shortage. The capital’s traditional Malla-era stone spouts have dried up due to haphazard urbanisation.Access to infrastructure is another problem. The city has become a maze of hazards navigable only by the rich and the able-bodied. Kathmandu has no organised roads for pedestrians, nor does it have disability-friendly structures. Even basic requirements like zebra-crossings are not maintained, leading to the deaths of dozens of pedestrians, including that of a Nepali diplomat right in front of the Singha Darbar recently.On the other hand, uncontrolled increase in the price of real estate is reducing access to housing for middle and low income citizens in urban centres. The nexus of banks, land dealers, investors and the government have monopolised land ownership in Kathmandu as well as cities across Nepal. Urban poverty and squatter settlements have increased.Urban planner Upendra Sapkota says that if affordable housing is not provided by the government and non-government sectors in cities including Kathmandu, squatter settlements will increase in the future. "Private housing companies should set aside at least 20% of their construction for affordable housing for the poor,” he adds.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221207101212/6390598f9c7e80680e0ce1f6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2250" height="1312"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Moving to the cityThe transformation of villages to cities is happening worldwide, and people have been leaving villages for cities for ages. The urbanisation of Nepal is therefore not a surprise, and may even be essential to raise living standards.“Urbanisation is not bad, but it is important to pay attention to what kind of urbanisation is taking place,” says urban planner Jagdish Chandra Pokharel.Increasing greenery and electric vehicles to reduce pollution, managing accessible and disaster-friendly housing to low-income Nepalis, and ensuring an inclusive space for Nepalis of all socio-economic backgrounds could be immediate steps to make cities more liveable.Systematic urban development also increases the ties of cities to villages, facilitating development in rural areas. Experts add that urban expansion is the right path to increasing access to infrastructure and socio-economic services in Nepal’s villages, which will go on to create opportunities and curb migration.“We should think about how to connect urban centres with villages so that facilities are extended to rural Nepal as well,” says another urban planner, Saroj Basnet.In recent years, discussions about urbanisation have extended to 'Smart Cities' and 'Satellite Cities'. However, there is no clear blueprint for building such a city, and discourse remains limited to political announcements.The National Urban Development Strategy has pointed out the need for additional investment of more than Rs12 trillion to build infrastructure in just 217 municipalities. By the year 2031, this need will reach Rs36 trillion.Mahendra Subba adds: “Although municipalities are legally entrusted with the responsibility of urban expansion, the technical, administrative and financial capacity of local units is not up to par." Indeed, even though the government has announced the creation of 10 big cities, there has been no real discussion or preparation regarding investment, availability of resources, or need.“Our urban policies have failed to address how to mobilise and distribute available resources to build smart cities,” says geographer and regional planning expert Pitambar Sharma, adding that cities cannot be built on political pronouncements alone.

Cost of living in a big city

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e2f9c7e80680e0bd52fmp4.mp4" title="" alt=""/><figcaption>Source: TROPICAL TIDBITS.COM</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1469" height="800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e2f9c7e80680e0bd530jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Source: SCOTT DUNCAN</figcaption></figure>This spring, northern India saw the hottest March since records started being kept 120 years ago, and this week people in the Indo-Gangetic plains are bracing themselves for maximum temperature to hit 50°C. All this hot air is also affecting next-door Nepal.After sweltering through record March heat, Kathmandu’s average temperature this week was at a 53-year record. Dharan registered 35.7°C in mid-March, another record. People in Nepal’s Tarai are used to heat waves, but not in March and April. All this makes Kim Stanley Robinson’s 2020 climate fiction <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ministry-Future-Kim-Stanley-Robinson/dp/0316300136" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Ministry for the Future</a> prophetic. It starts with a town in northern India as it faces a deadly heat wave that kills most of its 200,000 inhabitants in a week. The facts of climate change induced heat stress are imitating fiction, and a dystopian narrative is becoming our new reality. “Heat, temperature and moisture combined will be the killers in South Asia, and if there is anything that will genuinely force people to respond to the climate crisis it is frequent heat waves, because unlike other episodic extreme events it is widespread and will impact everybody,” Ajaya Dixit of the Institute for Social and Environmental Transition (ISET) Nepal told us from New Delhi where the maximum temperature was 44°C on Tuesday. <figure><img width="1500" height="636" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e329c7e80680e0bd531jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Graphs: BINOD POKHAREL, Data: DHM</figcaption></figure>A recent study from 2000-2019 found that over 5 million people around the world died each year in that time due to extreme temperatures, with some 2.6 million in Asia – with most of the fatalities in South Asia. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/turning-on-the-heat/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Heatwaves</a> in 2010 killed more than 1,300 people from dehydration and stroke in Ahmedabad alone. Another severe heatwave in June 2015 during which the mercury hit 49.4°C caused the deaths of 2,500 people in northern India and 2,000 people across the border in Pakistan.Another heatwave in India and Pakistan in 2019 was the hottest and longest since the British started keeping temperature records, with the maximum at 50.8°C in Rajasthan. A similar but slightly less intensive heatwave in Europe in 2003 killed between 35,000-70,000 people.The World Health Organisation (WHO) Climate and Health country profile for Nepal predicts that under a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-doubles-its-carbon-footprint/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">high carbon emission</a> scenario, heat-related deaths in people above 65 years are projected to increase to about 53 deaths per 100,000 by 2080 compared to the estimated baseline of approximately 4 deaths per 100,000 annually. <figure><img width="1222" height="735" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e359c7e80680e0bd532jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>While dry heat is still bearable because the body cools with perspiration, it is humid heat that is more lethal. And climate change is not just making the world hotter, but also wetter. For every 1°C rise in temperature, there is 7% more moisture in the atmosphere.This is called ‘<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-heat-is-killing-us/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wet-bulb temperature</a>’ that measures both ambient air temperature and humidity level to determine how hot it actually feels. For example, if it is 30°C with high humidity, it will feel much warmer. A wet-bulb temperature of 35°C is considered the maximum limit of heat and humidity that humans can handle. Beyond that, the body can no longer effectively cool itself via perspiration. A couple of hours of exposure to this without artificial cooling will mean that people will start dying of heatstroke and dehydration, with children and the elderly being the most at risk.“The climate crisis in the Himalaya is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/women-and-water/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the water crisis</a>. Heat stress is manageable as long as there is access to water, but that is not the case for the poorest in the Tarai,” says climate scientist Binod Pokharel. “Luckily, this week’s heat wave is mostly dry heat with lower humidity.”The rain that is forecast for Nepal from Thursday will cool things down, but it will also increase the humidity.  <figure><img width="1500" height="527" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e389c7e80680e0bd533jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>The other factor making heatwaves more intense are densely populated cities of vehicle exhaust, concrete and asphalt which form what are called ‘<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/preparing-for-kathmandus-heat-waves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">urban heat islands</a>’.  Ironically, the air conditioners city dwellers use to cool themselves indoors, is making it hotter still outside. There is a significant temperature gradient between the outskirts and Kathmandu’s city centre even in winter, which means the Valley does not have its characteristic winter fog anymore. On any given day, there is a temperature difference of 1.5°C  between Chobhar and Teku, even though the two places are only 3km apart.As more and more <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-loses-its-open-spaces/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">open spaces</a> are built over and the greenery disappears, Kathmandu’s ‘heat bubble’ is going to get bigger. Warns Dixit: “The fast pace of urbanisation in South Asia is a serious threat and we are a witness to an unfolding disaster. Business as usual means higher cost of response, both financially and institutionally.”  <figure><img width="1500" height="568" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e3a9c7e80680e0bd534jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Photographic evidence of ice loss in Mt Everest, taken in 1921 and 2007 by George Mallory and David Breashers respectively.</figcaption></figure>He says the only solution is to start designing climate smart cities that restore open spaces and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/building-back-better-and-stronger-with-bamboo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">building houses with insulating material</a> and use or block sunlight, reducing the need for energy-intensive heating or cooling.The impact of increased heat in the Tarai, city centres and now even in the high Himalayan valleys is not limited to public health but will have consequences for agriculture, energy generation, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-must-prepare-for-climate-migration/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">migration</a> and the glaciers.The hot and dry conditions this week have already fanned wildfires across the Indian Himalaya and in western Nepal. Although not as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/wildfires-ravage-nepal-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bad as last year</a>, Kathmandu has been shrouded in smoke haze for more than a month.  <figure><img width="1118" height="531" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111152/63721e3d9c7e80680e0bd535jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Open spaces have been replaced with concrete jungle in Kathandu. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>Having a good <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-weather-stations-in-the-himalaya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">forecasting system</a> in place will help with preparedness, and save lives. But Nepal does not yet have its own standards to determine heat or cold waves, and relying only on the World Meteorological Organisation has limitations when it comes to localised projections.“Nepal needs to study its historical heat and cold waves and come up with its own standards and adjust it for the changing climate for better forecasting and preparedness at local levels,” says Pokharel. The Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM) in Kathmandu is monitoring the heat wave this week, and despite projections of higher solar intensity <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-weather-elevates-air-pollution-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the smoke haze</a> has also been filtering the sunlight, lowering the maximum temperature slightly. “The heat wave conditions in the Indian plains this week is affecting us, and we expect more and more extreme heat events and anomalies made worse by the climate crisis,” says Archana Shrestha at the DHM.She adds, “Average temperatures will continue to rise and we have no other recourse than to be prepared. This means we have to rethink our <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/cars-vs-people-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">development pathways</a>, I’m genuinely worried about how concrete structures are coming, this is turning our cities into hot spots. We must prepare this and future generations for even hotter summers. This means the the health, finance, agriculture ministries should all be prepared, not just the environment ministry.”

North Indian heat wave hits Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410118/637205b09c7e80680e0b28cejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1118" height="531"/><figcaption>Kathmandu's dense settlement as seen from Halchok.</figcaption></figure>Owning a house is a mark of success in Nepal — much more so than elsewhere. And if that house is in Kathmandu Valley, then you have really made it.You might have a stable job and family, but unless you have a roof over your head that you own you are not settled by society standards. It could be a small house and the tiny plot, as long as it is yours.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15757#.YfSXGS2B2t8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Owning a house</a> is part of our everyday conversation in households. There is always someone talking about how they are building their house, how there is no water coming out of an expensive bore well, how a neighbour built a multi-story structure and blocked out all the sunlight.Homes hold a special place in our society that very few other things can match and it is reflected in our numbers too.Nepal may lag in several economic and human development indicators, but when it comes to home ownership rates, it is far ahead of the rest. Some 85% of Nepali households live in homes they own. Proportinately, more people in Nepal own the houses they live in than in the US, UK, and Germany.Most other countries with higher home ownership rates than Nepal, such as Singapore and Russia, were able to achieve it due to their strong social housing programs. The fact that so many Nepali families own their <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6200#.YfSXGS2B2t8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">own houses</a> with little governmental support is remarkable. Nepalis prize homes as their most important investment.But even with this high home ownership rate, thousands of new houses are built every year, feeding <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the urban sprawl</a>. New apartments and housing projects come up to address demand.And yet, there are never enough houses to meet that growing demand. More and more cultivable agricultural land and green space are being turned into housing plots.Economically, it makes more sense for Nepalis to own their own house, even if it is at the very edge of the city. Unlike wealthier nations where buildings generally follow a standard national code for health and safety, most homes in Nepal function as isolated and self-sufficient units.Germany, for example, has laws that require housing units to have regular access to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-our-shit-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">water and sewage</a>, Nepal has no such centralised directive. A house in a Berlin neighbourhood will have roughly the same level of access to water and garbage collection as the one next to it.A house in one Kathmandu neighbourhood may have a running water and sewage system, but only if the owner is able to drill for water and have a septic tank.In the US, if landlords build a house with cheap construction materials and endangers the lives of tenants, they can be taken to court and prosecuted. In Nepal tenants are completely dependent on the whims of the landlord.So, it makes sense that people would want to move into their own house where they can make their own choices rather than live under the tyranny of someone else.Even if the landlord is agreeable and the living environment acceptable, renting is not a long-term, financially sound solution. Given how the rents have soared in the cities, it makes more economic sense to build one’s own home.Houses in Nepal are not just places of shelter, but also of income. Owning a house doesn’t just save rental money it can also earn rental cash. In a country with very few mature investment opportunities, a home is a nest-egg. Many Nepali families sell off their homes in times of acute need: to send a family member abroad, pay hospital bills or marry off children.Homes become important at festival time, and Nepali culture places a lot of emphasis on communal gathering and cooking, all things that are more conducive in personally owned houses.Nepal has always had a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ground-reality-of-landlessness-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">historical home-ownership culture</a>. Until very recently, most of Nepal’s population lived in rural areas where land is plentiful and houses are built with local materials. There were few constraints on building and owning a home. Houses were within the reach of many people, creating a cultural legacy towards home ownership that has persisted.Ultimately, there is a universal and innate desire to own your own home.  In archaeological remains all over the world, we see human settlements created with a meticulous level of care.From the earliest cave paintings, humans have been decorating and creating a material environment. Building technology may have advanced, but this fundamental human desire to elevate personal space from a place of rest to one with meaning has not changed.Homes are where we spend the most time, they are where we create memories. They are an extension of ourselves. How they are built and look end up becoming a reflection of how we think, act and behave. That is why we seek to permanently own this extension.By owning our own house, we give ourselves more freedom. In the end, home is where the heart is, and who would not want to own their own heart?Avani Adhikari is a student of Economics and Urban Planning in Singapore.

Avani Adhikari

Home is where the heart is

<figure><img width="740" height="494" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01b99c7e80680e0a3641jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>Every spring Kathmandu turns into a city of flowers blooming with jacaranda and bougainvillea. People wait year-round to escape the otherwise dull and dusty concrete landscape with a vibrant streets of purple, red and green. But very few people know that these beautiful roadside trees and their colourful seasonal flowers are ill-advised for our climate, and can increase road hazard. Trees shelter us from sudden downpours, and during hot summer days, we seek their refreshing shade. In fact, they reduce the temperature of the asphalt surfaces beneath them by as much as 15° Celsius.  Trees purify the air by sequestering carbon dioxide and giving off oxygen, they remove harmful gases and particulate matter. They improve the soil by assisting in nutrient cycling and help regulate surface and subsurface water. And they provide food and shelter to insects, birds, animals, and plants.However, not all trees are suitable for urban streets. We need to select them based on more than aesthetics and convenience. Ecological value and road hazards are equally if not more important considerations when choosing a species.Unfortunately, past strategies and the recent <a href="https://www.moud.gov.np/storage/listies/July2019/NUDS_PART_A.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">National Urban Development Strategy 2017</a> and <a href="http://dudbc.gov.np/uploads/default/files/ae0b4f05ccb43bd80c1e5c39e3f69267.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal Urban Road Standard 2076</a> have failed to provide clear guidelines for tree selection, leading to haphazard planting along Kathmandu’s roads. Concerns raised by ecologists, conservationists and locals over the years have gone unheard.History of street treesEarly records of roadside trees date back to the 14th century when Jayasthiti Malla (1380-1395) ordered plantations alongside streets and public wells. Later, Prime Minister Jung Bahadur Rana, brought back exotic species like Eucalyptus, bottlebrush (Callistemon), and Kaiyo ful (Grevillea robusta) from his Europe visit (1850-51) to decorate palaces and roadsides. <figure><img width="1000" height="700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01bc9c7e80680e0a3642jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>More systematic efforts started in the early 20th century. Prime Minister Chandra Shumsher Rana (1901-1929) expanded Kathmandu’s road network and planted trees, introducing new species like Monkey puzzle (Araucaria araucana). Juddha Shumsher Rana (1932-1945) continued planting trees to beautify the roads like Putali Sadak, particularly after the devastation of the 1934 earthquake.Modern urban environmental planning began during the Panchayat in the 1960s and 1970s. The government renovated roads, mandating the planting of either a single line or double line of roadside trees. Part of the newly constructed Arniko Highway (Kathmandu to Kodari) and the Ring Road encircling the capital, had rows of trees on either side. In the 1980s, urban planners suggested three lines of green belt alongside the roads instead of previously mandated one-line roadside trees. As a result, more than a hundred thousand fast-growing trees were planted around the Ring Road.Rana and Panchayat planners were wrong to pick roadside trees such as poplars and eucalyptus based primarily on aesthetics and their fast-growing nature. In recent decades, Nepal has been steadily expanding its road network while integrating green belts, but planners have neglected the inclusion of criteria on species selection.Over time, attempts have been made to suggest a more scientific species selection. <a href="https://doi.org/10.3126/banko.v15i1.17042" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Researchers</a> have recommended over 300 potential species for urban forestry in Kathmandu, including a comprehensive list of suitable species that could be planted alongside roads. The list includes native and exotic trees and ornamental plants. These suggestions have been largely ignored.Mitra Pathak, research officer at the National Botanical Garden in Godavari says, “It is unscientific, we are planting whatever saplings are easily available.”Ecologically, the majority of trees planted around Kathmandu are misfits. Swami (Ficus benjamina) for instance is a weed, whilst Grevillea robusta, a deciduous branchy species, and Raj Sallo (Cupressus torulosa), are climatically unsuitable for the city.Urban environment expert Ramji Bogati also laments the lack of ecological criteria. “We should take into account factors like location, soil, nature of the species, in selecting roadside trees,” he says. <figure><img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01be9c7e80680e0a3643jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/342699040_Diversity_and_Species_Selection_in_Urban_Forestry_Reflection_from_Maitighar_to_Tinkune_Road_of_Kathmandu_Valley_Nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tinkune-Maitighar Road</a>, for example, is one of Kathmandu’s better-maintained green belt stretches. But despite having high species diversity, proper tree species selection has been disregarded. Planners mainly opted for exotic species that grow fast, with minimum care, and with a high survival rate instead of evergreen and local species. The 3.2 km road with four rows of plants consists mostly of non-native ornamental trees: fast-growing deciduous poplars, eucalyptus which lowers the groundwater table due to fast moisture absorption, and Jacaranda mimosifolia, an invasive species. Poplar and eucalyptus can damage foundations and develop cracks in pavements because their roots grow close to the soil surface. Some native species planted, such as birch (Betula alnoides) and silk tree mimosa (Albizia julibrissin), both deciduous and fast-growing, were poor choices owing to their open crown and drooping branches that are potential road hazards. Willow (Salix babylonica), native to central Asia, on the other hand, is a better choice because it is elegant, robust and tolerant to air pollution and injuries.Guides to roadside tree selection<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://tid.p3.gov.np/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Nepal-Road-Standard-2070.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal Road Standard 2070</a> has three guidelines for roadside plantations: ensure good visibility by planting trees on sides and shrubs on the median, avoid wide-crowned trees, and ensure tree crowns do not cross the pavement's edge. Yet, even this fails to address important aspects of species selection. In particular, we need criteria to evaluate ecological, economic, and aesthetic values. <figure><img width="2056" height="1286" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01c19c7e80680e0a3644jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><ol><li>  Functional Criteria:Block noise, clean the air, control wind and provide safety and shade to vehicles and pedestrians, and habitat for urban wildlife.</li><li>  Ecological Criteria:Fitting for the soil and climate of the city, resistant to wind, pests, diseases and air pollution.</li><li>  Socio-Economic Criteria:Cost, care, longevity, and reflection of urban identity.</li><li>  Structural Criteria:Fast development, pruning-ability, strong root system, tree shadow, flowering and fruiting, future size, and diameter.</li><li>  Visual Criteria:Colour of leaves, flowers, deciduous vs. evergreen, tree dimension, road width, and planting arrays.</li></ol>Selecting appropriate tree species is often complex but if we engage urban planners, ecologists, and specialists of the field, we can create sustainable roadside plantation guidelines. <a href="https://www3.diism.unisi.it/~mocenni/Note_AHP.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Analytic Hierarchy Process (AHP)</a> is an effective tool to aid decision-makers to set priorities and decide the most suitable trees for particular roadside ecologically and aesthetically.We have to be cautious with the types of trees to plant along our roads, beauty can often be misleading. Carefully selected roadside trees can help reduce negative environmental and social impacts of urbanisation, making Kathmandu more resilient in the face of changing climate and overexploitation of nature.Meena Bohara, PhD, is a researcher of ecology and environment. She is the President of <a href="https://ncsc.org.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nature Conservation and Study Centre</a>.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01c49c7e80680e0a3645jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="100" height="103">

Right trees for right seasons in Kathmandu

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00ce9c7e80680e0a35f9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Kathmandu Valley's only landfill site Sisdole has reached its maximum capacity. All photos: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>Nepal’s capital stank for more than a fortnight before Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) decided to resume garbage collection this week with the Department of Roads agreeing to repair the route to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/a-load-of-rubbish-kathmandus-garbage-problem,4039" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Sisdole landfill site</a>, 30km away.Kathmandu’s only landfill Sisdole has already reached its maximum capacity, and every monsoon the rains damage the access road to the site with the locals having to navigate in knee-deep sludge. The overpowering stench from the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/industrial-scale-litter/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">heaps of garbage</a> is enough to make residents sick.“Our water sources have been contaminated and farms are infertile. The road leading up to here is in a sorry state and yet the concerned people pay no heed,” says Bimala Balami of Sisdole.“From sunrise to sunset that mountain of garbage is all we see, we inhale the bad smell more than we do oxygen,” she adds.This is echoed by her neighbour Sangita Balami: “The odour from the garbage dumped here is there all hours of every day, there is no respite, people are getting sick.”The residents started a protest when a 70-year-old woman died on 22 August, attributed to a possible <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">cholera outbreak</a>. The local authorities brokered a deal with an agitating group obstructing the movement of vehicles with a 14-point agreement on Wednesday when the cholera suspicion was proven to be unfounded.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00d29c7e80680e0a35fajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00d59c7e80680e0a35fbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00d99c7e80680e0a35fcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00dc9c7e80680e0a35fdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>The garbage trucks and containers are now on the move, but it will still take a week for the municipality to manage to lift litter off the streets. Some 15,000 tonnes of waste have been piled up in different parts of Kathmandu Valley because of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/recycle-reuse-reduce-garbage-kathmandu,1279" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">lack of proper solid waste disposal</a> in the past two weeks.Stretched over 38 hectares, the Sisdole landfill is located on a gorge that is now not just full, but has grown into an enormous mountain of garbage. When it was first turned into a landfill site in 2006, the KMC proposed to use it only for three years but 17 years later, 75% of about 1,200 tonnes of daily <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-covid-19-plastic-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">waste generated in Kathmandu Valley</a> ends up here in Nuwakot.Under normal circumstances, up to 200 vehicles dump the waste in Sisdole daily, which is later pushed around the site by an excavator at a height of about 200 meters.“Back then the government had acquired our land for the site, we were promised jobs,” says Bimala Balami. “But they were distributed unfairly. Some people here receive annual grants from the government but others don’t even get a penny.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00e09c7e80680e0a35fejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00e39c7e80680e0a35ffjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00e79c7e80680e0a3600jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00ea9c7e80680e0a3601jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Rapid and unplanned growth coupled with poor municipal management has meant that <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Kathmandu-waste-management-problem-solution,1416" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu has always had a garbage problem</a>. Kathmandu needs another landfill site and the proposed alternative Banchare Dada, 1.9km west of Sisdole, has been under construction for years.The Ministry of Urban Development had signed a contract with Lumbini Koshi and Neupane JV in April 2019 to complete the work at <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/what-will-nepal-do-with-its-e-waste/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Banchare Dada</a> within a year. The project will cost at least Rs346.8 million with the 91 hectare site estimated to be usable for 25 years. But more than two years later, the new landfill has no completion date in sight.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00ed9c7e80680e0a3602jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00f09c7e80680e0a3603jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00f49c7e80680e0a3604jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Exactly 50 years ago in 1971, the first international consultant on solid waste management had studied Kathmandu's waste management system and proposed a landfill site.In 1996, after a 15-years-long effort by the Germans to set up a waste management system in Kathmandu, a German fact-finding mission concluded that the problems relating to municipal waste management in Kathmandu are not technical in nature, and the <a href="http://www.martinchautari.org.np/files/SINHAS-Articles/SINHAS-Vol.1-No.2_Bhushan-Tuladhar.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">constraints to developing environmentally sound, cost-effective and sustainable solutions</a> are institutional, organisational and financial.Studies have shown that segregating waste would cut the volume of trash by half, since up to 70% of the daily collection is biodegradable. We know what the problem is, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/making-money-from-garbage-in-kathmandu,2055" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">we know what the solutions are</a>, but there is little political will to follow through.There has been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepali-entrepreneur-turns-trash-into-cash/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">interest from the private sector</a> to recycle the organic waste, plastic, metal and glass, and install an incineration plant to generate electricity from the rest, but the project got stuck in the bureaucracy with reports that officials demanded kickbacks.Says environmentalist Bhushan Tuladhar: “Kathmandu’s solid waste mismanagement is once again making headlines as it does every monsoon. Unfortunately, the main obstacles to a solution have remained the same for the past five decades.”

A load of rubbish

Tom Robertson

Kathmandu's ‘flash floods’ are 4 decades in the making

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

As soon as she milks her cow, 52-year-old Punam B K is off, pedaling her bicycle furiously along the highway with a blue milk can in the front basket.&nbsp; By the time she arrives at the Jaya Shiva Ganesh Dairy Producers Cooperative in Gopalganj village, others are already there, their bicycles parked on the roadside. The farmers are all holding on to their blue milk cans, and are chatting away.&nbsp; “We keep what is needed for the family, and sell whatever remains here at the cooperative,” says B K, as the volume, fat and non-fat solid content of her milk is measured. It is then poured into a bigger vat to be mixed with milk from other farmers. B K collects her receipt with the value of her milk, and prepares to head home. The farmers are reimbursed on a quarterly basis.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-family-that-works-together-stays-together">A family that works together stays together</a>, Sahina Shrestha “Everyone around here has at least a cow or buffalo to provide milk for the family, the cowdung is used for fertiliser, and we can bring whatever is left over to the cooperative,” says B K who, like the others, brings her milk by bicycle twice a day, once in the morning and again in the evening.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_0df32c0f6a572aef83eca02dc7a86f75ea5dbc88dc6c2390d42a44ab3cc93395.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241210081232_0df32c0f6a572aef83eca02dc7a86f75ea5dbc88dc6c2390d42a44ab3cc93395" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1275" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  All this may seem like nothing special, just an ordinary farmer selling her milk. But it has to be seen in the context of dairy farmers overcoming subsistence and increasing household income. Nearly 200,000 dairy farmers from over 1,200 cooperatives have not been paid by the government-run DDC for their milk for a year or more.&nbsp; The DDC has fixed a quota for buying milk from cooperatives that limits production even during the peak winter months. Farmers in Chitwan are so fed up, they have staged demonstrations in Kathmandu and even poured milk on the East-West Highway in protest.&nbsp; Punam B K’s milk ends up in Bhawani Dairy, a milk processing plant in Chitwan that buys milk from various cooperatives in the district. It was established six years ago by three entrepreneur cousins Devrath Baral, Drishya Baral and Subash Paudel and is now being supported by the Commercial Agriculture for Smallholders and Agribusiness (CASA) project.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_4e3c65390b9c5345f807b10cbb8c36b006ef6d3cb972e07b5067f4b2db2be32e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241210081232_4e3c65390b9c5345f807b10cbb8c36b006ef6d3cb972e07b5067f4b2db2be32e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1102" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  This UK-funded project implemented by Swisscontact in Nepal has been supporting agro-businesses in 23 countries in Asia and Africa. They focus on improving the capacity of private dairy and vegetable farmers to find markets and build a sustainable supply chain for their produce. It helps dairies like the one in Chitwan with branding and marketing, as well to track business through a Dairy Management System (DMS) digital database.&nbsp; Bhawani Dairy also got support to conduct orientation for cooperative farmers to learn about new ways to boost productivity with breeding, cowshed management and hygiene maintenance. Many commercial farmers in Chitwan, some with up to 60 cows and buffaloes, have benefited.&nbsp; B K says she only has six cows, so not everything she hears at the orientation about increasing cowshed area is applicable. “We are just happy our milk is not wasted, and we can earn some cash from the surplus,” she says.&nbsp; Bhawani Dairy’s clientele is based entirely in Chitwan and in towns along the East-West Highway. But building on its success here, the company is looking to expand nationwide and target the Kathmandu market. Being a perishable product, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/nepal-s-milk-heartland-rebounds">diary business is challenging</a>. Businesses also need investment and technical support to diversify into value-added milk products like cheese, yoghurt, ice cream or powdered milk.&nbsp; “For now, the best thing we as a dairy business can do for farmers is to buy their milk at a decent price and pay them in time,” says Drishya Baral of Bhawani Dairy.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_6c06efb5674dbcd8679015af543bfda87030755383a13c9269e272af28e85953.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241210081232_6c06efb5674dbcd8679015af543bfda87030755383a13c9269e272af28e85953" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1275" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  Another agro-industry supported by CASA since 2018 is Himalayan Supervores, a venture that sources farm produce to supply vegetables and other foods to restaurants and hotels in the city, and even export Halal-certified produce to Gulf countries.&nbsp; CASA helped with cold chain management system to keep vegetable produce fresh so that the products earn trust about quality in the national and international market. Himalayan Supervores is already exporting to UAE and Qatar, and is targeting other Gulf countries next. “The guidance provided by the international expert was invaluable, we could not have bought that knowledge even with money,” says Nelson Shrestha of Himalayan Supervores. “It was not about fancy hardware, but how to minimise wastage, increase productivity, save time and money.”&nbsp; Though Himalayan Supervores collects vegetables from vegetable cooperatives, it indirectly works with a network of thousands of cooperative farmers. Its catchment area therefore is enormous, and it has enhanced their knowledge about organic farming methods, bio-pesticides, and the right way to handle and package vegetables. CASA’s most recent tie-up is with Pokhara-based Poshilo Foods, which specialises in increasing the shelf-life of local nutritional food items. During the Covid lockdown <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p3bparajuli/">Prithwi Kallyan Parajuli</a> saw an opportunity to supply nutritional foods that stayed longer, and set up Poshilo.&nbsp; It took traditional satu flour made from dry-roasted pulse, added more nutrients, and packaged it. Four flavours of satu with nutrient values differentiated for various age groups now line the shelves of supermarket chains like KK Mart, Saleways. Poshilo is now exploring the export market in India.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241210081232_a8dbea8c8d45ac4eff6c37fb47da7ff461989c662ba86d207a008381101acdcf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241210081232_a8dbea8c8d45ac4eff6c37fb47da7ff461989c662ba86d207a008381101acdcf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1275" loading="lazy" alt="dairy farmers in Chitwan"> </figure>  In the five years of helping Nepali agribusinesses, CASA has already teamed up with 35 established companies. Parajuli heaps fulsome praise on the catalytic support and guidance he got early on, not just for product design, but to explore market viability, branding and marketing.&nbsp; He has participated in government-led programs before, but says those are one-off and focus only on technical solutions and do not pay much attention to the important back-end work with management and sales.&nbsp; Says Devrath Baral of Bhawani Dairy in Chitwan: “We would probably have eventually got to where we are now, but it would have taken years longer without CASA. And now we can share our experience with other agribusinesses in Nepal.”

urbanisation