In democracies under strain, the most important truths often arrive too late, uttered hesitantly by those who should have spoken earlier. A striking case occurred on 5 July 2025, when Ty Cobb—former White House special counsel—accidentally revealed, in what he thought was a private Facebook comment, that Donald Trump was “worse than anyone in our history.” The post went viral, becoming an insider’s indictment few external critics could match. Cobb wrote that Trump “has real contempt for the country, appoints wholly unqualified people to key positions,” and even “killed worldwide healthcare efforts monitoring pandemic producing diseases including Ebola.”&nbsp; He added that Trump had “just kicked 12 million people off Medicaid, eliminated child food support” and witnessed a personal net worth growth of over USD 3 billion, describing it as “purely personal, corrupt and [with] zero policy-based support.” These were not partisan talking points but hard facts previously reported and now authoritatively confirmed. Yet, these truths surfaced only by accident, underscored by Cobb’s insistence that his words were “not intended for wide circulation.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025082715088_8992956bf90a632ae105a501c931cfff9d2224915248555ee7c5f053daf43517.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025082715088_8992956bf90a632ae105a501c931cfff9d2224915248555ee7c5f053daf43517" data-rendition-name="original" width="448" height="624" loading="lazy" alt="Reluctant truth-tellers and institutional fragility"> </figure>  That phrase has become emblematic of a deeper malaise: the unwillingness of insiders to speak candidly until their words escape by chance. That reluctance reflects a broader pattern observed in recent United States politics: internal criticism is rare, delayed, or voiced only after political risks have diminished. The effect is a dangerous silence that leaves citizens uninformed and institutions weakened. This dynamic is not unique to the United States. In Brazil, military officials who privately questioned Jair Bolsonaro’s authoritarian drift remained publicly loyal until after his defeat. In Hungary, European Union officials observing Viktor Orbán’s erosion of judicial independence offered only anonymous briefings, avoiding open confrontation that might have spurred international pressure.&nbsp; In both cases, the absence of early internal dissent permitted leaders to consolidate power and normalise abuses. When insiders delay speaking out, authoritarians gain vital time to dismantle checks and neutralise opposition. By the time the truth emerges, the institutional landscape has shifted. In fragile democracies and post-conflict settings, this pattern means early warnings that might prevent damage often go unheard. Such disclosures share a familiar anatomy: reactive, surfaced only after leaks or visible collapse, lacking in formal documentation, and offered by individuals whose credibility matters—but only too late.&nbsp; Silence often stems from various motivations: a belief that one can moderate from within, fear of being labelled partisan, or hope that self-correction via institutions is possible without personal sacrifice. However, these strategies frequently fail. The ‘adult in the room’ stance can instead enable wrongdoing. Autocrats learn to interpret silence as consent, and the public, unseeing of internal resistance, struggles to mobilise. By contrast, international experience shows that early truth-telling—however uncomfortable—is more effective. In Myanmar, civil servants—rather than staying silent—mounted one of the most powerful civil disobedience movements in the region, walking off the job in protest the day after the 2021 coup. Their defiance emboldened popular resistance and showed how decisive, collective action can shift political momentum, even if it could not reverse the coup.&nbsp; In South Korea, prosecutors exposed political meddling that catalysed civil society and led to the president’s impeachment. In Guatemala, judges and prosecutors brought down entrenched corruption networks from within government, enabling international action. Strengthening democratic resilience therefore requires reconfiguring incentives. Whistle-blower protections must be strengthened so that independent institutions can act swiftly on credible disclosures. Civil society and media networks should be prepared to amplify insider warnings before they are suppressed. We must build institutional cultures that treat early truth-telling as civic duty, not betrayal. International organisations can help by developing rapid-response mechanisms to protect and amplify important disclosures. Secure channels should preserve source anonymity while enabling coordinated global responses. Institutions must be ready to intervene when systems falter. Civil society, meanwhile, must reduce the personal cost of speaking out—through legal support funds, secure communication tools, and rapid media response strategies. The goal must be to make courage less costly, and delay less tempting. Ty Cobb’s unintended post was more than an accidental slip: it was a mirror held to institutional fragility and the perils of delayed honesty. As he put it, “I could of course be tilting at windmills but don’t really have much choice if I want to sleep at night given the stakes as I see them.” When insiders wait for the perfect moment to speak, that moment rarely arrives—and the public pays the price. Democratic societies cannot rely on accidental disclosures to expose institutional failures. Instead, the international community must build systems that reward courage over caution and recognise that institutional silence in the face of authoritarian behaviour is too often indistinguishable from complicity. Jordan Ryan is a member of the Toda International Research Advisory Council (TIRAC) at the Toda Peace Institute, a Senior Consultant at the Folke Bernadotte Academy and former UN Assistant Secretary-General with extensive experience in international peacebuilding, human rights, and development policy.&nbsp; This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/reluctant-truth-tellers-and-institutional-fragility.html">the original</a> with their permission.

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Reluctant truth-tellers and institutional fragility

Of all the geopolitical stunts <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trump-s-second-coming">Donald Trump</a> has pulled since returning to the White House, the United States’ votes at the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) on 4 March stand out as the most revealing. The US opposed a seemingly innocuous resolution establishing an International Day of Peaceful Coexistence and reaffirming the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/how-will-nepal-develop-in-the-next-decade"> UN’s 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development</a>. Despite its symbolic nature, the US voted against the resolution, with representative Edward Heartney <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/usun.usmission.gov/remarks-at-the-un-meeting-entitled-58th-plenary-meeting-of-the-general-assembly/" target="_blank">explaining</a> that the US ‘rejects and denounces the Agenda 2030 for Sustainable Development and the Sustainable Development Goals, and it will no longer reaffirm them as a matter of course’.&nbsp; Despite US opposition, the resolution ultimately passed with 162 countries voting in favour, two abstaining, and only three, the US, Israel and Argentina, voting against. Then the US was the sole vote against a resolution reaffirming ‘the right of everyone to education … including equal opportunities for young women' likely because it conflicted with a pillar of the Trump administration’s domestic agenda: dismantling diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250311100316_36e63634a5e29d69a64b4245e40401c4f731ee12a6918545f64e04023762bf09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250311100316_36e63634a5e29d69a64b4245e40401c4f731ee12a6918545f64e04023762bf09" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="533" loading="lazy" alt="UNGA 1"> <figcaption>The General Assembly also voted on a draft resolution titled Education for democracy with only the United States voting against it.</figcaption> </figure>  These moves may well foreshadow America’s withdrawal from the UN, something Elon Musk and other Trump supporters have <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/nypost.com/2025/03/02/us-news/elon-musk-appears-to-back-us-withdrawing-from-nato-the-un/" target="_blank">urged</a>. Trump has <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/theconversation.com/trump-pulls-out-of-who-and-paris-how-did-international-bodies-get-through-deglobalisation-last-time-around-247919" target="_blank">already pulled</a> the US out of the WHO, and abandoned the Paris climate agreement.&nbsp; His administration has also <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/02/withdrawing-the-united-states-from-and-ending-funding-to-certain-united-nations-organizations-and-reviewing-united-states-support-to-all-international-organizations/" target="_blank">withdrawn</a> the US from several UN bodies, including the Human Rights Council (UNHRC) and the Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA), and is now reassessing its involvement in the UN Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO).&nbsp; This week, the non-profit group Civicusannounced the inclusion of the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/mar/09/watchlist-decline-civic-freedoms-civicus">US on its 2026 Watchlist</a>, alongside the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Italy, Pakistan and Serbia. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/trump-s-first-month">The Trump administration </a>is not merely unhappy with certain international institutions, it is fundamentally opposed to any multilateral framework that even suggests equality among countries. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">Trump shock wave hits Nepal</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar Some analysts <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/theglobalobservatory.org/2024/11/what-might-be-in-store-for-the-united-nations-under-a-second-trump-presidency/" target="_blank">argue</a> that a complete US withdrawal from the UN is unlikely, given the disproportionate influence America wields through its Security Council veto. But given Trump’s law-of-the-jungle approach to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">geopolitics </a>even that advantage may no longer seem essential. Should the US leave the UN, the financial consequences could be immediate and severe. As the UN’s largest financial backer, the US <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/financingun.report/un-financing/un-funding/funding-entity" target="_blank">contributed a record $18.1 billion</a> in 2022, accounting for roughly 20% of the organization’s total funding. Notably, more than <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/financingun.report/un-financing/un-funding/funding-entity" target="_blank">70%</a> of US contributions went to just four UN entities: 40% to the World Food Programme (WFP), 12% to the High Commissioner for Refugees, 10% to UNICEF, and another 10% to the Department of Peace Operations. And since much of this funding was <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/oig.usaid.gov/sites/default/files/2023-05/UN%20Orgs%20Graphic%20051823.pdf" target="_blank">channeled through USAID</a> which Trump has shut down, it may have already vanished. Given the current geopolitical climate, it would take nothing short of a miracle for other governments to step in immediately to fill the gap. As a result, many critical and life-saving UN programs are now at risk.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-great-game-2nd-half">The Great Game, 2nd Half</a>, Sonia Awale The paradigm shift in US foreign policy does not necessarily signal the impending decline or outright collapse of multilateralism and the UN system despite the Trump administration bullying individual countries rather than work through international institutions.&nbsp; As the world’s leading superpower turns its back on global cooperation, the system of multilateral governance that the US helped establish nearly eight decades ago could begin to unravel. Paradoxically, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/trump-s-diminishing-power-and-rising-rage">Trump’s actions</a> could also serve as a catalyst for greater <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">international cooperation</a>, impelling other countries to work together more closely. The reason is simple: no matter how vehemently the White House denies it, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/living-with-climate-anxiety">humanity’s most pressing challenges</a> are global in nature. They will not go away simply because Trump refuses to acknowledge them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-needs-to-get-its-climate-act-together">Climate change</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/environmental-destruction-is-a-medical-emergency">environmental degradation</a>, extreme <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/institutionalised-inequality">inequality</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/is-free-health-care-possible-in-nepal">emerging health threats</a>, the rise of disruptive <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">new technologies</a>, and the erosion of stable employment all transcend national borders.&nbsp; Global solidarity is thus not just a moral imperative but an existential one. Many political leaders seem to understand this and <a href="https://archive.ph/o/8f1Hp/https:/geopolitique.eu/en/2025/03/06/lula-ramaphosa-sanchez-joining-forces-to-overcome-global-challenges/" target="_blank">remain committed to multilateralism</a>. International negotiations on taxation, climate action, and development financing are moving forward, even without US participation. In fact, the absence of the US, which has all too often acted as a spoiler anyway even under previous administrations, could pave the way for more ambitious and effective global agreements. In this sense, the current climate of uncertainty and upheaval could represent a unique opportunity to build a truly international movement for progressive change.©Project Syndicate&nbsp; Jayati Ghosh, Professor of Economics at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, is a member of the Club of Rome’s Transformational Economics Commission.

The UN vs Trump 2.0

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/636934219c7e80680e03dfdajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="720"/>NEW YORK – The drama of Donald Trump’s presidency has centered around whether an extremist president would be able to carry out an extremist policy agenda against the will of the majority of Americans. So far the answer has been no, and the midterm elections make it far less likely. Yet Trump’s rising frustrations could push him over the edge psychologically, with potentially harrowing consequences for American democracy and the world.None of Trump’s extremist policy ideas has received public support. The public opposed last year’s <a href="http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2017/09/27/more-americans-favor-raising-than-lowering-tax-rates-on-corporations-high-household-incomes/">Republican-backed corporate tax cut</a>, Trump’s effort to <a href="http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2017/02/23/support-for-2010-health-care-law-reaches-new-high/">repeal the Affordable Care Act</a> (Obamacare), his <a href="http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2017/02/24/most-americans-continue-to-oppose-u-s-border-wall-doubt-mexico-would-pay-for-it/">proposed border wall with Mexico</a>, the decision to <a href="http://cdn.cnn.com/cnn/2018/images/05/07/rel5c.-.iran.pdf">withdraw</a> from the Iran nuclear agreement, and the imposition of <a href="http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2018/05/10/americans-are-generally-positive-about-free-trade-agreements-more-critical-of-tariff-increases/">tariff increases</a> on China, Europe, and others. At the same time, contrary to Trump’s relentless promotion of fossil fuels (coal, oil, and gas), the public favors <a href="http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2017/01/23/two-thirds-of-americans-give-priority-to-developing-alternative-energy-over-fossil-fuels/">investments in renewable energy</a> and <a href="http://climatecommunication.yale.edu/publications/paris_agreement_by_state/">remaining</a> in the Paris climate agreement.Trump has tried to implement his radical agenda using three approaches:<ol><li>To rely on the Republican majorities in the two houses of Congress to pass legislation in the face of strong popular opposition. That approach succeeded once, with the 2017 corporate tax cut, because big Republican donors insisted on the measure, but it failed with Trump’s attempt to repeal Obamacare, as three Republican senators balked.</li> 	<li>To use executive orders to circumvent Congress. Here the courts have repeatedly intervened, most recently within days of the election, when a federal district court <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/09/climate/judge-blocks-keystone-pipeline.html">halted work on the Keystone XL Pipeline</a>, a project strongly opposed by environmentalists, on the grounds that the Trump administration had failed to present a “reasoned explanation” for its actions. Trump repeatedly and dangerously oversteps his authority, and the courts keep pushing back.</li> 	<li>To rally public opinion to his side. Yet, despite his frequent rallies, or perhaps because of them and their incendiary vulgarity, <a href="https://news.gallup.com/poll/203207/trump-job-approval-weekly.aspx?g_source=link_newsv9&amp;g_campaign=item_203198&amp;g_medium=copy">Trump’s disapproval rating</a>has exceeded his approval rating since the earliest days of his administration. His current overall disapproval rating is 54%, versus 40% approval, with strong approval from around 25% of the public.</li></ol>In the midterm elections, which Trump himself described as a referendum on his presidency, the Democratic candidates for both the House and Senate <a href="https://elections.huffingtonpost.com/2018/results/hq">vastly outpolled</a> their Republican opponents. In the House races, Democrats received 53,314,159 votes nationally, compared with 48,439,810 for Republicans. In the Senate races, Democrats outpolled Republicans by 47,537,699 votes to 34,280,990.Nonetheless, the Republicans hold a slight majority in the Senate, where each state is represented by two senators, regardless of the size of its population, because they tend to win their seats in less populous states, whereas Democrats prevail in the major coastal and Midwestern states. Wyoming, for example, elects two Republican senators to represent its nearly 580,000 residents, while California’s more than 39 million residents elect two Democratic senators. Democrats win more votes, but Republicans win more seats.Without control of the House, however, Trump will no longer be able to enact any unpopular legislation. Only policies with bipartisan support will have a chance of passing both chambers.On the economic front, Trump’s trade policies will become even less popular in the months ahead as the American economy cools from the “sugar high” of the corporate tax cut, as growing uncertainty about global trade policy hamstrings business investment, and as both the budget deficit and interest rates rise. Trump’s phony national-security justifications for raising tariffs will also be challenged politically and perhaps in the courts.True, Trump will be able to continue appointing conservative federal judges and most likely win their confirmation in the Republican-majority Senate. And on issues of war and peace, Trump will operate with terrifyingly little oversight by Congress or the public, an affliction of the US political system since World War II. Trump, like his recent predecessors, will most likely keep America mired in wars in the Middle East and Africa, despite the lack of significant public understanding or support.Nonetheless, there are three further reasons to believe that Trump’s hold on power will weaken significantly in the coming months. First, Special Counsel Robert Mueller may very well document serious malfeasance by Trump, his family members, and/or his close advisers. Mueller kept a low profile in the run-up to the election. We will most likely hear from him soon.Second, the House Democrats will begin to investigate Trump’s taxes and personal business dealings, including through congressional subpoenas. There are strong reasons to believe that Trump has committed serious tax evasion (as the New York Times <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/10/02/us/politics/donald-trump-tax-schemes-fred-trump.html">recently outlined</a>) and has illegally enriched his family as president (a lawsuit that the courts have <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2018/11/02/politics/donald-trump-emoluments-clause-dc-maryland/index.html">allowed to proceed</a> alleges violations of the emoluments clause of the Constitution). Trump is likely to ignore or fight the subpoenas, setting the stage for a major political crisis.Third, and most important, Trump is not merely an extremist politician. He suffers from what author Ian Hughes has <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H44BMM6/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&amp;btkr=1">recently</a> called “a disordered mind,” filled with hate, paranoia, and narcissism. According to two close observers of Trump, the president’s grip on reality “<a href="https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2018/07/27/inside-the-mind-of-donald-trump-219074">will likely continue to diminish</a>” in the face of growing political obstacles, investigations into his taxes and business dealings, Mueller’s findings, and an energized political opposition. We may already be seeing that in Trump’s <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/09/us/politics/matthew-whitaker-donald-trump.html?smid=fb-nytimes&amp;smtyp=cur&amp;fbclid=IwAR0MxF9dqRt5w1M5HT6Gy6syoaqbsJjfg6SRlN4JhcdURUrV-btCv_pHgt4">erratic</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdFe-LmFRV8&amp;t=1s">aggressive</a> behavior since the election.The coming months may be especially dangerous for America and the world. As Trump’s political position weakens and the obstacles facing him grow, his mental instability will pose an ever-greater danger. He could explode in rage, fire Mueller, and perhaps try to launch a war or claim emergency powers in order to restore his authority. We have not yet seen Trump in full fury, but may do so soon, as his room for maneuver continues to narrow. In that case, much will depend on the performance of America’s constitutional order.  © <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/weaker-trump-more-unstable-and-dangerous-by-jeffrey-d-sachs-2018-11?utm_source=Project+Syndicate+Newsletter&amp;utm_campaign=8154a24117-sunday_newsletter_18_11_2018&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_term=0_73bad5b7d8-8154a24117-93570157##" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Project Syndicate</a>Jeffrey D Sachs is Professor of Sustainable Development and Professor of Health Policy and Management at Columbia University and his books include <a href="http://jeffsachs.org/books/the-end-of-poverty/">The End of Poverty</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Building-New-American-Economy-Sustainable/dp/0231184042" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Building the New American Economy</a>, <a href="https://cup.columbia.edu/book/a-new-foreign-policy/9780231547888">A New Foreign Policy: Beyond American Exceptionalism</a>.

Trump’s diminishing power and rising rage

Shantanu Dhakal wakes up to a cold misty dawn, dons his college uniform and fastens his tie, tightening it carefully so as not to dislodge the tracheostomy tube protruding from his throat.
Gingerly, he brushes his teeth, mindful not to hurt the wound on his left cheek, where a bullet tore through during the GenZ protests on 8 September in the highway town of Itahari in eastern Nepal.&nbsp;
Dhakal, 18, came home from college that day three months ago and then took the bus to Itahari to join some friends who were protesting in front of the sub-metropolitan city office. It was mid-afternoon, and the crowd was chanting anti-corruption slogans and holding up placards.
Like most young Nepalis, Dhakal and his friends had been angered by videos on social media of the offspring of Nepal’s rich and powerful flaunting their lavish lifestyles.&nbsp;
"That was the trigger for me to join the protest, it opened my eyes to just how widespread nepotism and corruption was," Dhakal told Nepali Times.&nbsp;
The police arrested a few students, angering the crowd even more. They massed at the gate of a nearby police station to demand their friends be released. &nbsp;
Dhakal was standing across the street from the police station when the first shots rang out. The crowd scattered. As he ran for cover, there was a searing pain in his left jaw. Blood was streaming and it took some time for him to realise he had been shot.&nbsp;
“I was bleeding profusely and couldn’t speak. My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears,” Dhakal recalls. “I collected myself and continued to run, fearing that I would be shot a second time.”
Dhakal collapsed some distance away, and a fellow protestor took him to a nearby hospital, where doctors bandaged his jaw. He was referred to Birat Medical Teaching Hospital, where surgeons immediately performed an emergency operation. &nbsp;
The bullet had torn through his left jaw, shattering the bone, teeth, and soft tissue. Blood had rushed into his throat, obstructing the airway so doctors first performed a tracheostomy, installing a tube in his throat to help him keep breathing. A week later, the doctors reconstructed his jaw with metallic plates, grafting skin from his chest and transplanting it to the lower left side of his face.&nbsp;
Dhakal spent three weeks in hospital before being discharged. But the relief of being home was marred by disturbing thoughts. He says, “Just sitting there doing nothing began to take a toll on my mental health.” &nbsp;
Since he was always interested in content creation and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@docsbyshantanu">producing short documentaries</a>, he decided to document online his near-death experience and post-protest life.&nbsp;
Shantanu Dhakal’s Instagram and TikTok <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shantanu__dhakal/">posts are simple, short videos</a> every other day about his treatment process, dressing his wound and cleaning his tracheostomy tube, attending events with others injured during the protests, and scenes from everyday life in his family farm.&nbsp;
The comment section has Nepalis and people from around the world reaching out to ask how he is doing and keeping his spirits up. Dhakal now has a caring social media community, and he uses the platforms to keep in touch with other injured protestors across the country.&nbsp;
Life is returning to a new normal. This week, he returned to college to resume classes after more than two months and is making up for lost time. He has adjusted to speaking and eating with the tube, although the pain never quite goes away.&nbsp;
“I can eat mostly fine, but it is still difficult to speak,” he says. Soon, he will go to hospital for his fortnightly follow-up, and doctors will determine when his tracheostomy tube can be removed.
Like other young Nepalis, Dhakal is now even more politically engaged and actively reads the news of the interim government installed after the GenZ protests.&nbsp;
With the 5 March elections only three months away, young Nepalis like Dhakal hope that the elections will throw out the old and bring in the new. He is among the more than 800,000 new voters who have registered.&nbsp;
“The most important thing is that we have stable government,” he says. “As far as candidates go, an ideal one for me would be a person who prioritises health and education. But if the candidates in my constituency are not up to mark, I may not vote.”
Dhakal along with other injured protesters and relatives of those killed met &nbsp;Energy Minister Kulman Ghising, who has launched his own Ujyalo Nepal Party, and he is cautiously optimistic about the work of the current leadership. &nbsp;
It is a different story in Kathmandu, where Prime Minister Sushila Karki is struggling to manage the expectations of various youth collectives while trying to convince the old parties to participate in elections.&nbsp;
While the UML and NC are actively trying to delegitimise Karki’s government as they prepare to hold their respective general conventions, they are also preparing to give out tickets for elections.&nbsp;
Self-proclaimed GenZ leaders who used Discord to elect Karki prime minister are putting up their own conditions for the polls, even demanding her resignation for failing to meet their demands. This is in sharp contrast to the feelings of many of those injured during the protests who want elections so the nation can heal, and move on.

A new normal

This is the 75th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father was a country boy from Sarlahi, and my mother a city girl from Kathmandu. They had an inter-ethnic marriage, which was difficult until the two families gradually began to accept it. My parents, who worked in development, viewed the world through a social lens. They often traveled overseas for their INGO work, leaving me and my sister behind. We spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house, or in rented apartments with guardians. Between Grades 1 and 10, I must have switched schools seven times. Our parents prioritised our education, and enrolled me in the most expensive schools. I was shocked by my school fees, and often wondered how they managed with their salaries.&nbsp; I wanted to become a businessman, so I could have the kind of life some of my well-to-do friend had. My family was not from a business background, and social services didn’t lend themselves to that kind of lifestyle. Now I realise what my parents gave me was already over the top, a truth that becomes clearer as I get older. Our family was getting along fine until our father died while working on a project in Dhading in September 2021. The official reason was ‘heart attack’. We do not talk about this much, perhaps as a way of dealing with the loss.&nbsp; He was our rock, and everything got harder. At least we had good people around us who reminded us to take care of our mother and to work hard. And we did. My sister and I made TikToks during the lockdown, initially in a joint account which reached its peak in 2022-2023. I had always wanted to be an actor, but I knew the film industry does not pay well. My parents also urged me to keep my interest in acting as a passion project. TikTok enabled us to showcase our talent for comedy. We figured out how to crack TikTok’s algorithm and stayed on top of trends. People liked our duo and the raw and authentic content. It required a strategy, luck, planning, and understanding the game.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121236_1afc10a8107e0aef5b94977860bc2cb138ddd1a100cadc7324da675b7ca0810c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251204121236_1afc10a8107e0aef5b94977860bc2cb138ddd1a100cadc7324da675b7ca0810c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1778" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  We use a hashtag #NakarmiKhanalAF in all our content drawing from my parents’ last names although they did not need to know what ‘AF’ stood for.&nbsp; My first viral content involving a humorous take on a Marvel character hit over 500k. That fusion combining international trends with Nepali humor worked really well, and I started making it my niche, adapting content.&nbsp; My father was always thick-skinned and did not have to try to be cool or tough. He was unapologetically himself, sometimes to the point where my sister and I felt embarrassed. When he was invited as a chief guest at a cricket game, for example, I remember feeling proud to be the child of an ‘important person’, but he grabbed the mic and told everyone to start cleaning the ground.&nbsp; Many of our friends came from wealthy families because of the schools we attended, and he proudly lectured them about our humble background and the importance of social service. Growing up, we tried hard to get his validity. My proudest moment was gifting him a shirt bought with my first salary. My father did not get to see our rise on social media, but I know he is watching over us just as he always did. The first brand deal I got was memorable but awkward. It was for a grooming package for private parts. I used to think about how movie actors start their journeys with advertisements for underwear, and this was going to be my story, my ‘humble beginning’ as a content creator.&nbsp; They did not even pay me money but just gave me the items. Other brands started coming in and with them, money. I earned as much as Rs40,000 per content and tried to make one every day. This was a big contrast to my monthly salary of Rs35,000 in a clothing store. All along, I was acutely aware that fame would not last forever. Just like one of my singer friends Wangden had said in a podcast: he was going to have fun while fame lasted.&nbsp; After TikTok was banned in India, there was even more uncertainty about social media. The alternates were also not assuring: people running businesses had to close up or were stuck, and the political uncertainty was scary. This pushed me to think about migrating, and Australia was a safe backup. I uploaded content right upto two hours before my flight from Kathmandu. I wanted to have enough savings so I did not have to start working right away in Australia. I was buying freedom. Since I had to change schools frequently, Rodin was one of few enduring friends I had. He was in Australia and assured me that he would take care of everything, and he did. He was my family there, and I did not have to go through the initial struggle that other international students had to endure.&nbsp; In Australia, I have done multiple jobs over the last two years and completed my MBA. My interviewer challenged me to make him laugh with one of my content videos. He did and I started work the very next day though I know I got the job because a hardworking friend had recommended me. To the boss, I was just another Nepali who could work swiftly. I mopped floors, washed dishes, and served customers. This was Australia, and I hustled. But I knew there had to be more to life. The long hours and little sleep eventually caught up with me. One day I slept 14–15 hours straight, and when I woke up, it hit me that I should try networking.&nbsp; I reached out to admins of Australia-based Facebook groups. Some replied, some did not, some offered jobs that were not for me. Then came an email from 8848 Momo House, and I travelled to Brisbane to meet the owner Hom Pyashi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121232_ef61cf49eaa208293eecc7e2c5c075644ca6dd4bb844881249889586ae91025e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251204121232_ef61cf49eaa208293eecc7e2c5c075644ca6dd4bb844881249889586ae91025e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1548" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  “Do you want momos?” was the first thing he asked warmly. He told me to stop by one of his new outlets and make a video. I did, and I was hired the next day.&nbsp; It was that easy, and I have been working there ever since. My boss would later share in a conversation that he did not hire me because of the video but because I was young and he saw hunger in my eyes. To him, I was clay that he could help shape. I am now the marketing head, and the chain is doing well. Content creation is still a side job that brings in money. But just as my parents said, it remains a side passion.&nbsp; Then came the GenZ protests. On social media I compared Nepal’s youth to relaxed backbenchers who finally act when provoked enough to get things done. I could relate to the rage and suffocation. A song I was featured in was supposed to be released just when social media was banned in Nepal, and that fuelled my anger. But from the onset, I was wary of the headless nature of this movement, there was no ठुलो मान्छे leading and no one would be accountable if something went wrong. There was so much uncertainty, and I am not comfortable with uncertainty. We were glued to social media as the protests happened, at work and in the gym. When we learnt of the deaths of young Nepalis back home, a part of me died. The grief of unexpectedly losing my father came back.&nbsp; I left the gym early because I just could not take it. My friend and I just drove quietly to a nearby waterside. We did not even sit together because neither of us wanted to notice that we were in tears.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121236_99d662d9b4239e22410217146f87d7bed694d6543fa62d3b145401a5cf1cc7aa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251204121236_99d662d9b4239e22410217146f87d7bed694d6543fa62d3b145401a5cf1cc7aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  One of the messages I received was a GoFundMe link to support the victims. I shared it, but someone asked if it was genuine. That is when it hit me that I had a large social media following and could not just share things without verifying them. I removed the link. The only person I felt I could trust was myself, so I decided to start my own fundraiser. I felt emotional and helpless, and had to do something.&nbsp; I assumed we could raise around AUD5,000. I was wrong. Within hours, we had raised nearly AUD60,000. Fellow content creators Avash and Manzil from Minority Report had also started a GoFundMe, and we decided to join forces.&nbsp; Partnering with them was going to be a lifesaver because I was not at all prepared for what was ahead. Over 11,000 people contributed across our two campaigns, raising AUD514,386. But we had not thought through the logistical challenge, the online hate and the delays. We needed to release the money to the right organisations in Nepal, get complete information about the families of the martyrs and injured — our primary target groups.&nbsp; We faced a huge amount of backlash after a hate narrative instigated by a few people spread online. We just could not get our message across that it was not as simple as raising the money and handing it over. People believed what they wanted to believe. Internet hate can take you to very dark places, even when you believe in your cause and know it can bring some comfort to grieving families. You try to focus on the positive message, because many people did support us, but the hate and accusations do bring you down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121232_3045b4b91371fa210362f49a8d9ff279e1bb1cbee9fb8cc0641dbcbd6594aa98.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251204121232_3045b4b91371fa210362f49a8d9ff279e1bb1cbee9fb8cc0641dbcbd6594aa98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="2868" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  When I was paralysed by the internet hate to carry out even the most mundane activities like cooking and cleaning, my roommate Bibek took over. He even made me watch an episode from the Mahabharat capturing Krishna’s teachings on karma without worrying about the fruits, a lesson that did not just help me get out of that depressive episode but has become a guiding principle for life. How would I have emerged out of that darkness when I was battling with suicidal thoughts if people had not showed up for me? We worked day and night to find the right partners, and because of the large amount of money and the level of transparency we asked for, many influencers or organisations turned us down.&nbsp; This was not easy because we had our own jobs to take care of, our own bills to worry about that were not linked to the fundraiser. It helped that my team at 8848 let me deal with this during work hours, and assured me that they will stand by me no matter what. Thankfully, we finally partnered with Nepal Rising (Daayitwa US), a professional and transparent organisation that stepped in and saved the day. GoFundme finally released the funds to their account and it has begun reaching the right people. My sister helped ensure the money is delivered properly. As a final check, I speak with the families in Nepal and offer my condolences. I honour their loved one’s contribution to our country and we will make sure it is never forgotten. But no matter what we say or how much we try to help, the heartbreaking truth is that their young son or sibling is not coming back. The narrative is slowly changing. Slaps are now claps. But the trauma of the public hate is so great that it still gnaws at me, I have anxiety about attending Nepali gatherings like concerts here. I remember when a dance I had created for Bola Maya went viral on TikTok, with tens of thousands of people picking it up. A chef friend told me it was time to use that influence for a social cause. Those words stayed with me. As I navigated the backlash, I was also reminded of my parents who worked on social causes and asked my mother if they had faced similar cases. She had, and she reminded me that all we can do is stay focused on the cause and drown out the noise. Things will eventually work out.

Things eventually work out

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

In a democracy, governments come and go. But Nepal had become so entangled in the triangular affair between Sher Bahadur Deuba, K P Oli and Pushpa Kamal Dahal that it was becoming impossible to tell who was canoodling with whom.&nbsp;
All three had long since abandoned their party ideologies. Staying in power was all that mattered as they turned Nepal’s democracy into a kleptocracy.&nbsp;
For the past at least 20 years, we have warned them to mend their ways. Democracy had to be rescued from the hands of such kakistocrats. Waiting to pounce were monarchists and anarchists of every ilk, outcast Maoists, and supporters of a leader jailed for fraud. Tycoon Durga Prasai said his rally in March was to restore a Hindu monarchy, but he was just a temporary royalist whom even the ex-king spurned.&nbsp;
All this converged into a perfect storm on 8 September. Commandos shot and killed 19 innocent young people outside Parliament, the anger boiled over into targetted arson and vandalism the next day. The government fell, and Sushila Karki was elected interim prime minister through Discord.&nbsp;
With not just their monopoly on power but also their very lives in danger, the triumvirate was at first in total shock. Then came conspiracy theories and an inability to gauge the rage from decades of misrule.
Nepalis had assumed that after September the old parties would see their folly, and step down to hand over the leadership to a new generation. But 10 weeks later, there is no sign of any act of contrition.
In the NC, Sher Bahadur Deuba has sidelined the caretaker he himself appointed, Purna Bahadur Khadka, and is active again as the party prepares for a showdown in its Convention next month. The UML is proceeding with its own General Convention, where Oli is fully assured of a third term as party boss. Dahal sees no alternative to himself in his newly-forged Nepali Communist Party and is eagerly eyeing becoming prime minister for the fourth time.&nbsp;
The three leaders who everyone had hoped would finally retire have reincarnated. It is obscene for obsolete politicians to still hanker for power after all that has happened.&nbsp;
SHOCK AND AWE
The three leaders who have been prime minister a dozen times between themselves want to cling on, but this is not abnormal if we apply <a href="https://www.bbc.com/audio/play/w3cszmjz" target="_blank">Elisabeth Kübler-Ross</a>’ theory of the five stages of grief. The author of <a href="https://www.google.com.np/books/edition/On_Death_and_Dying/GlSq0AEACAAJ?hl=en" target="_blank">On Death and Dying</a> was analysing how people with terminal illness deal with their situation, but her 5-stage theory may be applicable to the way heads of the NC, UML and NCP are reacting to the shock of being overthrown — first with denial, then anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.&nbsp;
On 9 September, distressed by what had befallen them, the three were in total denial. Then began the stage of anger. Oli ranted in public about a conspiracy to install an ‘unconstitutional’ interim government, blaming the Nepal Army, and vowing not to take part in election even while preparing for it.
The NC has decided to participate in elections, although it has to first sort out its internal power struggle. The NCP and the RSP have united with smaller parties and are actively preparing to campaign. GenZ groups are speaking in different voices, with Sudan Gurung and Miraj Dhungana openly trying to unseat an interim government they themselves installed.&nbsp;
The parties are now in the third stage: bargaining. Instead of asking himself in hindsight what he should have done, Oli wants Parliament restored but has also registered his party for elections. The UML won't allow elections unless the government lifts restrictions on Oli’s movement.
Likewise, GenZ groups are putting up conditions for supporting polls: arrest Oli and others. Karki is single-mindedly focussed on elections, even if it has to be put off by two months. The Army would also like polls on time because it does not want a repeat of September when it had to intervene to form the interim government.
If Karki’s 6-month mandate ends without elections, and if by then the GenZ’s trust in the interim government collapses, then UML and NC could plan to press for an all-party election government, restoration of Parliament which would then dissolve itself to appoint a new prime minister that Karki would also be agreeable to.
The current state of affairs makes it difficult to imagine elections being held on 5 March — mainly because polls would be incomplete without the three main parties taking part, and it is unlikely they would participate in polls that they are certain to lose since they have not reformed themselves. Amidst these ifs and buts, the role of the Army will be critical.&nbsp;
The fourth stage of grief is depression, and that is what will happen to the parties when the reality of their unpopularity finally hits them. Only then will they finally accept their fate, realise that it was all their own doing, and perhaps reinvent themselves.
Kübler-Ross said the five stages did not necessarily have to be in that order, or that sometimes there may only be three phases, which may be applicable to the parties. What is for sure is that the three leaders are in no mood to atone for their sins.
Rabin Giri is an editor with <a href="http://nepalnews.com/" target="_blank">nepalnews.com</a>.&nbsp;