Collectivisation may have earned a bad reputation because of Stalin’s policies in the 1930s that led to widespread famine in the Soviet Union, but in Nepal today it is becoming a way for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Recharging-the-mountains,3465">women farmers to work together to make up for the absence of men</a>.&nbsp; Sumitra Karki had been observing the worrying trend of young men moving to the cities or abroad, and in the absence of farmhands more terrace fields were fallow. In recent years, even the women had started leaving to take care of their grandchildren in the cities.&nbsp; Baglung in the lap of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/power-to-the-periphery">Mt Dhaulagiri in central Nepal</a> is the district with one of the highest proportion of out-migration of young men. In the scenic village of Galkot, tucked amidst forested mountains in the back of beyond, women like Karki who stayed behind have taken over farming.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231007041028_b461d5de822910754893904e0af877fed6d492f4fa5db816e97ae9445a9ff979.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20231007041028_b461d5de822910754893904e0af877fed6d492f4fa5db816e97ae9445a9ff979" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="973" loading="lazy" alt="Community farming in Nepal"> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/women-and-water">feminisation of farming in Nepal </a>is an example of necessity being the mother of invention, so that women who barely grew enough to feed their families now make up the shortfall with money sent home by their husbands abroad.&nbsp; “Farming was not productive at all,” says Karki. “The women had to wait for the menfolk to send home money even to buy and wear bangles. What kind of a life was that?” But Sumitra Karki had other ideas. During a visit to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/weaving-the-fabric-of-a-new-life">Palpa</a>, she had seen women engaged collectively in agriculture to grow more food and cash crops by putting fallow fields to good use. On return, she put forth the idea at a mothers' group meeting, but the other women did not quite grasp the concept.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231007041024_46bb7e5e8d1150cf582ec86200d4251f356f8c3a5d65970701f310c715430e27.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20231007041024_46bb7e5e8d1150cf582ec86200d4251f356f8c3a5d65970701f310c715430e27" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="976" loading="lazy" alt="Community farming in Nepal"> </figure>  “They had not seen what I had seen. There is a difference between seeing with our own eyes and listening to someone describe it,” she explains.&nbsp; But Karki did not give up, and a few years later the mothers' group applied for a government grant to grow vegetables and onions. The women realised the power of working collectively, where two and two became more than four. Encouraged, the women formed the Melmilap Ekikrit Krishak Samuha collective farmer’s group in 2019 with eleven members and Karki as president. Today, the women of the Dudilabhati settlement of Galkot who were once confined to household chores and dependent on remittances, are growing valuable vegetables, including unseasonal ones in greenhouses.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/access-to-water-changes-the-face-of-rural-nepal">Access to water changes the fac of rural Nepal</a>, Anita Bhetwal “It is easier to work in a group,” says collective member Nirmala Gurung. “We get to learn from each other and it also makes the work more fun when there are more of us.” For Nirmala, there is another reason to be happy: seeing her income rise, her husband has returned from the Gulf.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231007041028_0c8f1db51ac2c35a3f6eee625f19e92fa8555612683531f05913ef917eb1d349.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20231007041028_0c8f1db51ac2c35a3f6eee625f19e92fa8555612683531f05913ef917eb1d349" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="Community farming in Nepal"> </figure>  Nita Gurung is also happy she joined: “The collective farm has given us a sense of collective security. Sumitra has been a good guide and coordinator.”&nbsp; Besides vegetables, the women also leased 5,000 sq m to grow millet this season, a native crop which is falling out of favour because it is more labour intensive and has been displaced by rice and wheat. But Karki wants to make this a model farm for the revival of the nutritious and climate-hardy indigenous crop. “We want to give priority to what was traditionally grown here and make an income from that,” she says.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231007041028_2e9e160febce9226a1d13373e646d0ed56ef6fa20b49cfb412f6ce02a5aa4926.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20231007041028_2e9e160febce9226a1d13373e646d0ed56ef6fa20b49cfb412f6ce02a5aa4926" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="931" loading="lazy" alt="Community farming in Nepal"> </figure>  Agriculture in Galkot used to be subsistence, with low yield on steep terrace farms, dependence on rain, limited market, risk of natural disasters and wild animal raids. All these factors have been exacerbated by the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya">impact of climate breakdown in the Himalaya</a>. The first major challenge for the women’s collective was Covid. All members of the group tested positive, the market closed down and lots of vegetables went waste. Not one to give up, Karki took charge as soon as she recovered and started posting photos of vegetables on her Facebook page during the lockdown.&nbsp; The group no longer sells vegetables through social media posts, but has developed contacts in the municipality to take their produce to market.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/agroecology-nepal-s-answer-to-climate-change">Agroecology, Nepal's answer to climate change</a>, Zachery Barton Growing up, Karki never thought she would ever be a farmer-entrepreneur. She had wanted to be a staff nurse. But when she was in Grade 9 at the age of 17, she was married. A year later, her oldest son was born.&nbsp; “Although my in-laws and husband were supportive, I couldn’t go back to school because I wanted to bring up my son myself,” says Karki who missed going to school. When her oldest was in Grade 4 and the younger boy was pre-school, she joined private classes and passed the school exam.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231007041032_82f1f0457fda1c8561b9397c800811b21ccaf01d039a3f1a375199b7e4529a4d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20231007041032_82f1f0457fda1c8561b9397c800811b21ccaf01d039a3f1a375199b7e4529a4d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="986" loading="lazy" alt="Community farming in Nepal"> </figure>  In those days, her husband Padam tried his hand in farming, running a rice mill, poultry and running a shop, Sumitra was always by his side, learning the ropes. There was just one thing she wanted to change: society knew her as someone’s wife, daughter-in-law, sister. But she wanted to carve her own identity. “Setting up a collective farming group has given me my own identity,” she says. “Now people know me as Sumitra Karki,” she says with visible pride. The seven women in the group work together in the fields, dividing time between their own plots and the group’s collective farm. The men come in as consultants and help with physical labour when needed. Profits are equally divided between the women, with some amount going into a savings account to buy seeds, or lease more land. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/back-to-the-future-of-farming">Back to the future of farming</a>, Anil Chitrakar Karki is aware that running a successful business needs time, but making an agro-business work takes even more effort because of prices, weather, and other changing variables. But the women find their strength in numbers, and this cushions them from hurdles along the way.&nbsp; “Women are often left behind in our society. But when we gain financial independence our voices are heard in the family and larger community,” explains Karki. “So my dream is to add more women to the collective and make them financially independent. For farmers like us, there is no better way.”&nbsp;

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Strength in numbers for female farmers

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171144/636bd8de9c7e80680e0801e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="540"/><figcaption>All photos and videos: MUKESH POKHREL</figcaption></figure>Women members of the Chisapani Community Forest in Bardaghat in this district in Nepal’s Tarai plains used to spend much of their day in the forest. They still do, but it is no longer to gather fodder or firewood .They are busy in the care, weeding and production of herbs including citronella and lemongrass in 40 hectares of degraded community forest land. The women have formed the Laligurans Mahila Herbal Farmers Group, and harvest the valuable essential oils from the aromatic plants once every three months.Mankumari Khatri leads the women’s group and says it is a win-win-win situation – they can put degraded land to good use, increase the household income of members, and return greenery to the margins of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/tree-mendous/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the community forests</a>."Women used to spend time at home watching television or chatting with neighbours once done with their household chores. Now we use our free time tending to our herb gardens at the edge of the forests, and we now earn money from selling the oils,” adds Khatri.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109171144/636bd8e19c7e80680e0801e4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="360">Just this group produced 220 litres of citronella and lemongrass oil every year. Lemongrass can be sold at Rs2,200 per liter and citronella at Rs1,900. Given its economical value, some have now planted the herbs also on their private land. The group has also segregated a hectare of land for the even more lucrative mint, which produces 100 litres of oil annually, and sells at Rs4,000 per litre.The group has Rs200,000 in savings after distributing rest of the sales money among the women since they started growing the herbs for oil eight years ago. Many of the families have their <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Recharging-the-mountains,3465" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">men folk working overseas</a> or in the cities, but this income has given the women confidence and spending power.The plantation site once used to be degraded and used for open grazing. The chair of the Federation of Community Forest User Groups of Nawalparasi West, Kamal Pariyar is also a member of the community forest and says the area has become healthier and greener with the cultivation of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-grass-is-greener-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">medicinal plants</a>.“The community forest had agreed to the proposal to cultivate herbs in order to empower women economically, but this has also allowed for natural regeneration in our forests,” Pariyar adds.The community forest user group does not charge any fee from the women for cultivating herbs art the edge of the forest. Instead, in collaboration with <a href="https://wcn.org.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Wildlife Conservation Nepal (WCN)</a>, it has installed oil processing equipment and is helping market the herbal oils for export to Europe.While <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/taking-away-forests-from-communities/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s community forestry program</a> is widely acclaimed internationally for doubling Nepal’s forest cover in the past 25 years, WCN is adding value to that achievement. By supporting women's enterprises in community forests in various parts of Nepal, it augments family income while increasing Nepal’s carbon sink capacity."Conservation alone is not enough, we should involve people in livelihood which is why we have launched a campaign to also engage them in economic activities," says Sanjeevani Yonjan of WCN. “Often times we think of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17226#.X3cHaWgzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">timber</a> as the only forest product, but there are valuable herbs too which can be sustainably cultivated. We want to export Nepal's forest products to the international market as a brand.”The WCN has collaborated with companies to find a market for the herbal oil produced in Nawalparasi. In fact, Nepal-made oil is now sold throughout Europe, marketed as the Himalayan Biotrade brand.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mjXwWnuWFg&amp;feature=youtu.behttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PcTeTES85JI&amp;feature=youtu.beTen additional <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/who-now-owns-nepals-forests/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">community forest</a> groups in Nawalparasi have started similar initiatives to the one in Chisapani, one of them being Sitapokhari Community Forest where 38 women have been planting lemongrass for the last three years.Apart from its ecological and economic benefits, these ventures have also helped develop women leadership in local communities. In the 2017 local election, 10 women involved in the forest group contested from different wards of Bardaghat municipality, two of them were elected.Says Kamal Pariyar: “Cultivating herbs in the forest has many benefits, we haven’t even realised all of its true potential. Women have become financially capable, and are now in leadership position. And we have helped green the planet in a small way.”

Now, Nepal’s herbal oil in Europe

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Early on Monday morning, a bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu plunged off the highway in Dhading killing 19 passengers. Two weeks ago, another bus fell into the Tama Kosi in Manthali, killing 12. A few days before that a bus crash in Baitadi killed 13 people.&nbsp; In just the month before Nepal's election, more than 50 people have been killed in road traffic accidents. Most of these cannot be called 'accidents'. They are a direct result of poorly maintained highways and lack of enforcement of traffic discipline. Political parties in Nepal have rolled out their election manifestos, and voters are once again presented with a flood of promises. Page after page, these documents list megawatts and microcredit, highways and airports, jobs and investment. In these manifestos, growth is quantified, projects itemised, revenue forecast — and there are even threats to beat up contractors who do not finish their jobs. But when everything is declared a priority the stale promises are empty. The voter is left confused as to where the party’s loyalties really lie. Will any of these plans and pledges actually ever materialise and help Nepalis live longer, safer, healthier lives? The main job of any accountable government is to protect its citizens, not so much from foreign enemies but from domestic mismanagement. And this means the most basic test the new government should be made to pass is whether it can ensure basic well-being and protection for all its people. The problems of safety, health, and survival remain unresolved for most Nepalis, and are quietly eroding their lives. In the past year alone, the country’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">roads and highways claimed more than 2,300</a> lives. An estimated 41,000 Nepalis die each year directly because of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous">air pollution</a>, and their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/air-pollution-killing-season-starts-early">lifespans are lessened by 3.4 years</a>.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health">Non-communicable diseases</a> now account for well over half of total deaths in the country. And even where survival has improved, deprivation remains. Chronic malnutrition continues to haunt communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mass-migration-from-muktikot">Nepal’s western mountains</a> despite progress in maternal and child health.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="683" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  These are the lived realities of most Nepalis, and it is here that development can deliver its most immediate returns. A rising GDP, in and of itself, does not make roads safer, clean polluted air, or provide enough nutrition to children. Such outcomes demand intentional, granular policies that confront the specific, everyday problems shaping people’s lives.&nbsp; Macroeconomic growth, trade and investment are important, but these alone cannot guarantee improvements health and safety. The word ‘growth’, after all, is also synonymous with malignancy. Economic progress and human protection are correlated only when governance deliberately links them. Impact on life is the unit in which ordinary Nepalis calculate progress. What is needed, then, is a governing philosophy measurable in these same terms: a ‘life-first’ standard where every policy, budget, and reform can be understood and judged by its impact on protecting and extending human life. Such a ‘life-first’ approach would scrutinise three aspects of every policy. First, whether the policy prevents loss of life. A death is termed preventable if better, more coordinated response systems and regulations could have avoided it (vaccines, drugs, road safety, clean drinking water). A newly built six-lane highway <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/highway-accidents-are-no-accident-in-nepal">can be a death trap</a> due to poor design or lax enforcement of safety rules. If neonatal deaths continue in a district despite hospitals being present, or if malnutrition claims lives in predominantly agricultural regions, they too are failures. Preventable deaths also cluster where accountability is less direct. Just last year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/suicides-a-pandemic-within-a-pandemic">Nepal recorded 6,866 suicides</a>, with nearly 20 lives lost every day, yet these deaths fail to prompt any serious examination of governance. The same holds for fatalities linked to domestic or communal violence, alcohol and substance misuse, or ‘natural’ disasters, which register as ‘tragedies without remedy’ rather than as outcomes policy can influence. But when avoidable loss of life recurs at scale, isolated incidents become patterns, and patterns reveal systemic neglect. Saving lives, however, is only the first step, and what matters just as much is the quality of years lived. Nepal’s life expectancy now stands at 71 years, yet many citizens spend years in avoidable disability, untreated chronic illness, or mental distress. A life- first government must ask not only whether people live, but whether they thrive. Are citizens able to pursue education, work, and family life without fear of preventable harm? Do communities have access to clean air and water, nutritious food, and basic healthcare? Can a teenager anywhere in Nepal imagine a future not foreclosed by premature marriage, or untreated depression?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940" data-rendition-name="original" width="2529" height="1427" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  Thriving requires policies that prevent suffering and promote well-being in addition to ensuring survival.&nbsp; Finally, governance must consider graceful aging. Elderly Nepalis should not be left to navigate disease, poverty, or isolation alone. Social systems, healthcare, and community support must enable their continued participation and dignified well-being. Adopting this three-layered standard would gradually reorient how success of any new government is defined. Transportation would be judged by fatalities reduced on the roads. Electricity generation would be measured by whether households can switch from firewood dependence to smoke-free electric stoves.&nbsp; Increase in annual rice harvest must translate into better nutrition, reducing the prevalence of chronic diseases like diabetes. Accountability must follow problems rather than stop at Singha Darbar. Only then will politicians and bureaucrats eventually recognise that their work converges on the same human endpoint. Critics will argue that economies are complex, trade-offs are inevitable, and that governance cannot be reduced to a single metric.But, as Acemoglu and Robinson show in their book <a href="https://ia801506.us.archive.org/27/items/WhyNationsFailTheOriginsODaronAcemoglu/Why-Nations-Fail_-The-Origins-o-Daron-Acemoglu.pdf">Why Nations Fail</a>, the key difference between prosperity and poverty lies in inclusive institutions that empower citizens and create broad incentives for well-being.&nbsp; Extractive institutions concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few while keeping the majority trapped in neglect. Nepal’s governance has remained a striking example of extraction. If lawmakers in the new Parliament continue to resist changes that would save and improve the lives of ordinary citizens, the same systemic rot will persist for generations to come. A life-first mentality can cut through this inertia by clarifying the moral centre of governance and reminding policymakers that behind every policy failure lies human cost. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-hunger">Every mother in Bajura</a> with a child going hungry at night, every farmer in the Madhes unable to afford medical care, and every family that has lost <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">a migrant son to kidney failure</a> understands the true <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating">value of a life saved</a>. Life is the one metric that transcends ideology, ethnicity, and region. Centering governance on this single, focused metric, can shift an election from a contest of rhetoric to a contest of evidence. Which party ensured access to safe water and basic healthcare? Which made work at home and abroad safer and less exploitative. Which measurably extended healthy years of life for ordinary citizens? Health is wealth. By improving the healthy lifespan of citizens economic prosperity would follow naturally. A ‘life-first’ governance model would therefore compel Nepal to address the underlying structural failures across all sectors, rather than merely alleviating their symptoms. The GenZ protest that toppled the government last September was, at its core, a demand for accountability and a rejection of politics as usual. But as the country edges closer to the polls, that clarity has started to dissipate. Parties are now echoing the language of reform, but the public discourse remains dominated by promises that feel disconnected from Nepal’s most immediate and basic priorities. Every preventable death, every hungry child, and every neglected elder becomes a direct failure of governance and a moral debt the state must answer for. It is how we can make sure we keep the next government in check. The writers are Nepali GenZ students of biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Nepal’s life or death election

Chronic winter drought and decades of unmanaged forest biomass have turned wildfires into a systemic risk for Nepal. We need to re-learn to convert fire fuel in forests into fertilizer for crops.&nbsp; On 11 January, a huge forest fire spread rapidly from China into the forests of Sindhupalchok, 40km northeast of Kathmandu. The newly-opened Tatopani border checkpoint was closed. Smoke from the fire spread across central Nepal, blocking the sun.&nbsp; The fire burnt itself out within a few days, but the border stayed closed for longer. Such wildfires were once rare in mid-winter, and traditionally peaked between March and May as temperatures rose ahead of pre-monsoon showers. What is unsettling is not just the early onset of the fires, but also their scale. This shift is not accidental, the pattern has been unfolding over years due to winter drought, weakening post-monsoon moisture, and the accumulation of dry forest biomass as Nepal’s forest area doubled in the past 30 years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009024_5f4a84bb389f9b56f4fa47d4f694adcd464eb13b192d184af0f1eb20efdfeebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026022009024_5f4a84bb389f9b56f4fa47d4f694adcd464eb13b192d184af0f1eb20efdfeebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1055" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>A NASA FIRMS image of Nepal with red dots signifying fires in February 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  Together, these factors have made forests tinder dry in spring, just waiting for a spark. Nepal has experienced winter drought in eight of the past ten years (this winter was an exception). Winter rain and snow at higher elevations play a decisive role in maintaining surface moisture, recharging shallow aquifers, and keeping forest floors damp enough to resist ignition. When winter rains fail, forests dry out months earlier than usual. Satellite-based assessments show a steep decline in surface moisture across the middle mountains of Nepal, particularly in areas with dense forest cover but limited undergrowth management. Springs that once flowed year-round are now seasonal.&nbsp; More than half of the springs in the mid-hills have either dried up or show significantly reduced discharge, a trend closely linked to declining soil moisture and disrupted recharge zones. Dry soil does not just threaten water security — it helps the vegetation ignite. FUEL WITHOUT FUNCTION For decades, Nepal’s forests have been accumulating dry leaf litter, fallen branches, shrubs, and deadwood. Historically, this biomass was not considered waste because rural households regularly collected leaf litter for livestock bedding, which was later composted and returned to farms as fertilizer.&nbsp; Forest floors were therefore relatively clean while the mulch fertilized farms. That relationship has steadily eroded due to outmigration, changes in livestock systems, restrictions on access to community forests, and the growing availability of chemical fertilisers.&nbsp; Community forests across the country today are thick with dry twigs, branches and leaves — a highly combustible carpet. When prolonged drought dries this biomass, even a small spark from a herder’s intentional fire, a cigarette, or lightning strike can trigger massive fires.&nbsp; Under such conditions, the question is no longer whether fires will occur, but how intense and widespread they will be. Forest fires are often framed as an environmental issue concerning trees and wildlife. In reality, their impact extends far beyond forest boundaries.&nbsp; Smoke travels faster and further than flames. Fine particulate matter, especially harmful PM2.5, spreads across countries. In recent fire seasons, air quality monitors in Kathmandu have recorded air quality levels several times higher than WHO guidelines. The smoke adds to Kathmandu’s own pollution and lingers for days.&nbsp; Flights are cancelled or delayed in cities like Pokhara, and poor visibility blocks mountain views affecting tourism. Health facilities report spikes in respiratory complaints, particularly among children and the elderly. Just as wildfires have multi-sectoral causes, the impact of forest fires go beyond forests. One critical dimension remains largely invisible: the soil. The fires cause silent damage beneath the ash, and the emergency does not end when the flames subside. Beneath the surface, soil suffers long-term damage. Organic matter burns away, beneficial microorganisms die. The soil structure weakens, reducing the land’s ability to absorb and retain water. The scorched earth is more prone to erosion, increasing the risk of floods and landslides once the rains return.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009028_cc54ff056b2cac8b789cfd4d11afef9eaf943368e47b99aabd57c7b63b776cf2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026022009028_cc54ff056b2cac8b789cfd4d11afef9eaf943368e47b99aabd57c7b63b776cf2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1717" height="2143" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>Wildfire risk map based on the validated Random Forest model (a) Overall reclassified wildfire risk map of Nepal, (b) District level wildfire risk, and (c) Municipality wildfire risk map.</figcaption> </figure>  In many of Nepal’s agricultural areas, soil organic matter levels are already below 2% -- lower than what is needed for resilient and productive farming. Repeated fires push these levels even lower, undermining soil fertility and forcing farmers to rely more heavily on chemical fertilisers, unleashing a vicious cycle of higher costs and food insecurity.&nbsp; Climate breakdown is often cited as the primary culprit, and rightly so. Rising temperatures and erratic rainfall have intensified fire risk. But fires in Nepal are increasingly the result of human intervention.&nbsp; The response of all three levels of government remains too little, and too reactive. Each year, resources are mobilised to extinguish fires once they have already spread. Far less attention is paid to managing the fuel load within forest undergrowth that makes such fires inevitable.&nbsp; Meanwhile, forestry and agriculture policies are not coordinated, missing opportunities to address shared challenges. Forest fires are not natural disasters, but predictable outcomes of governance choices. National plans and climate pledges set an ambitious target of raising soil organic matter to 4%. The science behind this goal is solid. Higher organic matter improves water retention, stabilises yields, reduces fertiliser dependence, and enhances long-term food security. What remains unclear is the pathway.&nbsp; Where will the organic inputs come from? How will they be processed and applied safely at scale? Without practical answers, the 4% target risks remaining aspirational rather than achievable. Forest undergrowth can be turned into fuel and fertiliser. Biochar is produced by heating organic biomass in a low-oxygen environment, converting it into a stable form of carbon that can be added to soil.&nbsp; When properly produced and applied, it improves soil structure, enhances water and nutrient retention, supports microbial activity, and locks carbon into the ground for decades. In Nepal biochar addresses two interconnected problems: reducing the accumulation of combustible biomass in forests, lowering fire risk, while simultaneously rebuilding depleted soils. In doing so, it restores the broken link between forest management and agriculture.&nbsp; Done well, biochar is not merely an environmental intervention. It is an economic one, with potential to create local employment, reduce farmers’ input costs, and support climate-smart agriculture. But biochar propagation depends on improved governance. If promoted as isolated pilots or short-term projects, it will fail. What is needed is institutional clarity: standards for production and safety, quality control mechanisms, farmer extension services, and coordination across local, provincial, and federal levels.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022009028_e6e2218f38fae5b1fe81d9f99078fe01f58d04b4b3b2c41447f017c3f838a1d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026022009028_e6e2218f38fae5b1fe81d9f99078fe01f58d04b4b3b2c41447f017c3f838a1d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfire season NT"> <figcaption>Freshly prepared biochar under control tempature (350-600°C).</figcaption> </figure>  Community forest user groups could manage biomass collection. Local governments then support safe, decentralised production units. Agricultural extension services guide farmers on application, linked to soil testing and monitoring. Such an approach would reduce fire risk, improve soil health, and generate rural livelihoods.&nbsp; Poorly produced biochar or contaminated feedstock can harm soils and human health. Without training, standards, and oversight, good intentions can backfire. Nepal needs to move beyond fire-fighting to fire prevention and confront the structural causes that make them a growing risk. It is not just a technical choice – it is one that demands political will from newly-elected leaders after March. &nbsp;&nbsp; Ngamindra Dahal is a hydrometeorologist with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation specialising on climate and water management issues.&nbsp;

RED ALERT: Get ready for the wildfire season

Party flags and banners wave from electric poles, houses and e-rickshaws are festooned with posters. Madhes Province is in the grip of election fever, and in a tour through four of its districts, there is the sense that any efforts by mainstream political parties at reforms have come too little too late. Among the banners, the sky blue of the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/new-vs-new-in-nepal"> RSP is more prominent </a>here this time, and the rallying cry across the country for new and improved leadership is echoed on the ground. “For the people around here, whatever these old leaders are saying has become just noise,” says a lassi shop operator in Janakpur, waving a dismissive hand at flags with the NC’s tree symbol across the street. In Janakpur, UML nominee Raghubir Mahaseth was barred from canvassing door-to-door. Campaign posters of the mainstream parties have been torn from walls and replaced with RSP posters.&nbsp; In Inarwari village of Rautahat in the Madhes heartland, local elected officials whose parties have been merged into the Nepali Communist Party hope to retain enough supporters this election. But not many residents say they would vote for its candidate. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022005024_a793e3a19cbd536fde50708c4a41b8b0d39a4716c6973feddad889097b655641.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026022005024_a793e3a19cbd536fde50708c4a41b8b0d39a4716c6973feddad889097b655641" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Battleground Tarai NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SHRISTI KARKI</figcaption> </figure>  A first-time voter in Sarlahi’s Haripur is home on a semester break from medical school in Kathmandu, and is waiting excitedly for 5 March. “You can’t really say out loud whom you’re voting for around here,” he says, as he mimes ringing a bell. “It is time for someone new to be in-charge." In the highway town of Bardibas, an elderly teashop owner says that all she hears are calls for घण्टी, the RSP’s bell symbol. “After all, bells are rung in the house of gods,” she says. “It seems like the right choice.” The RSP wave sweeping the nation after the GenZ movement is seen in Madhes, and the PR ballots might reflect that, notes political analyst Tula Narayan Shah.&nbsp; “But the socio-cultural networks, organisational setup, and legacy of democratic movement of traditional parties might still give them a fighting chance on the first past the post ballot,” he says. &nbsp;“The door-to-door campaign style of candidates has always been more prominent in Madhes than elsewhere.”&nbsp; Villages like Dhankaul in Sarlahi-4 where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/grand-split-in-nepal-s-grand-old-party">Gagan Thapa</a> of the Nepali Congress (NC) is running against incumbent Amresh Singh, is an NC stronghold. Singh won the election here twice before in 2013 and 2017 when he was an NC leader, and still had goodwill among NC voters when he ran and won as an independent during the 2022 election. “I voted for him twice before when he was in the NC, but he did not do anything for this or other villages. Once he is elected, he has not set foot here,” says Rajiv Yadav, a voter in Dhanakul. “The RSP will get more votes here than last time, but Gagan is sure to win. This village will vote for him.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022005024_26691bb5a37edf705cc197a632d0bf032f984079a838d31bcd943bc0b9c97ff3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026022005024_26691bb5a37edf705cc197a632d0bf032f984079a838d31bcd943bc0b9c97ff3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Battleground Tarai NT"> </figure>  Madhes is in the spotlight this election because two prime ministerial candidates have focused their attention in the region. Balen Shah began his campaign in Janakpur (main picture, left) in January as a ‘Son of Madhes’, and Gagan Thapa chose Sarlahi-4 as his constituency over Kathmandu-4, from where he has been elected since 2013.&nbsp; The Madhes has always been the battleground for Nepal’s electoral politics, and candidates from here, like Krishna Prasad Bhattarai from Parsa, Pushpa Kamal Dahal from Siraha, Jhala Nath Khanal from Sarlahi, and Madhav Kumar Nepal from Rautahat, have all been prime ministers. Despite electing politicians to high office in Kathmandu, districts of Madhes have consistently ranked low in development and service delivery indicators, especially in basic healthcare and education. Socio-economic inequalities stemming from a lack of opportunities has also meant that Madhes districts have the highest rate of out-migration in the country.&nbsp; What is different this time is that the people of the province have a Madhesi prime ministerial candidate who will represent them in national politics, and the main competition ultimately will be between the NC and RSP prime ministerial candidates. Interestingly, voters seem to be looking beyond Madhes-based parties who have historically campaigned on identity and federalism.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026022005024_1b5c1134fb02ded72a12221200918df584b0cd003139bb2be44951efe9a65bf1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026022005024_1b5c1134fb02ded72a12221200918df584b0cd003139bb2be44951efe9a65bf1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Battleground Tarai NT"> </figure>  “Leaders of Madhes parties have glorified their struggle for votes but failed to perform on good governance at local and provincial levels,” explains Tula Narayan Shah. “Now, Balen has become a PM candidate as a face of the region, and as someone who will deliver based on his work as Kathmandu mayor.” If the RSP wins, it will be governing in the absence of provincial leadership that would play a crucial mediatory role between Kathmandu and local units. On Wednesday, RSP’s Madhes province chair Mamta Sharma resigned from the party and joined the NC. There is also some underlying tension between RSP cadre loyal to Balen Shah and Rabi Lamichhane. “It is not prudent to predict who will win the election and whether parties will deliver on promises,” says Tula Narayan Shah. “But win or lose, there is little basis at this time to believe that the RSP will be committed to making the federal system and provinces more functional.” Voters here in the heart of the federalism movement, however, are willing to give the RSP the benefit of the doubt. &nbsp;Resident Brahma Dev in Janakpur told us: &nbsp;“The RSP, like parties that came before them, deserve a chance to prove their leadership in the next five years. If they do not deliver, we can always vote them out next time.”&nbsp; On Wednesday, NC leaders unveiled the party’s 10-point election manifesto at a large rally in Janakpur (main picture, right). Gagan Thapa began by addressing a cheering crowd in Maithili, and said the NC was reformed, adding:&nbsp; “The GenZ did not reject us, they told us to change our ways.” Also on Wednesday 800km away at the other end of the country in Dhangadi, Balen Shah, in a speech that lasted just three minutes, he said: “Don’t vote for us, give us work to do.”&nbsp;

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