Durga Buda is in Grade 10 in a school in the remote mountains of western Nepal. Not long ago, she saw a personal computer for the first time. Many young women in this socially conservative region are limited to housework, herding livestock, &nbsp;before being married off. But for Durga, the flickering computer monitor is a portal to a whole new world out there – a world filled with possibilities she had never imagined. Through a peer-led after school program known as EDGE (English and Digital for Girls’ Education) Durga is no longer intimidated by the computer, soon browsing the Internet and speaking English with confidence. Knowledge of English and access to the Internet combine to give Durga and her fellow students access to a world of knowledge they did not before. They now have a voice long denied them by &nbsp;their families and communities. Durga’s story is not unique. Millions of girls across South Asia and the developing world remain cut off from the skills that could redefine their future. Science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) are reshaping every part of modern life, yet female students in many countries are systematically excluded from these fields. Deep-rooted social norms, limited access, and a lack of female role models hold them back from a field traditionally regarded as a male domain. The result is inequality, and a loss of potential, for individuals, communities, and entire countries. Globally, women make up less than 30% of researchers, with even fewer in high-growth areas like computer science and engineering. This disparity is even more pronounced in South Asia. Interest in STEM subjects among girls tends to drop off by age 15, often due to a lack of encouragement, inadequate resources, and few visible examples of women succeeding in these fields. Without early interventions, the gender gap in STEM only widens with time. This is why early STEM education like the one in the rural school in Nepal matters. Encouraging girls to explore and build practical, problem-solving skills from a young age in safe, inclusive environments not only develops their capabilities but also boosts their confidence. Digital fluency is fast becoming the new literacy, from managing mobile payments to building educational apps; and girls must be part of that conversation. The British Council’s EDGE program offers a promising pathway forward. Operating across multiple countries, it sets up after-school clubs where girls develop foundational skills in English, digital literacy, and social interaction. EDGE strongly aligns with it goals through its emphasis on digital proficiency, language skills, critical thinking, and problem-solving using ICT tools. At the heart of the program is a distinctive, peer-led learning and leadership model. Girls are trained as Peer Group Leaders, who mentor others and lead collaborative learning activities. This approach fosters a human-centered, inclusive environment where girls build confidence, navigate both online and offline learning spaces, and develop the skills to speak up and thrive in fields often dominated by men. Over 20,000 female students have participated in EDGE in Nepal and other South Asian countries. Participants marked improvements in English speaking, digital skills, and self- confidence. Many go on to lead their own clubs, becoming role models in their schools and villages. In Nepal alone, 98% of surveyed participants reported feeling more confident, and 87% credited EDGE with helping them improve their grades. More importantly, 92% said the program encouraged them to pursue higher education, although only 13% are currently enrolled, pointing to systemic barriers beyond the reach of the program. Girls like Simrika Giri who joined EDGE as a participant later returned as Peer Group Leaders, challenging stereotypes, opening doors for others, and are more likely to find jobs. Some students in Nepal credit their EDGE experience directly for securing NGO or teaching positions. The impact of programs like EDGE goes far beyond the classroom. In many communities, the achievements of the students challenge long-standing patriarchal norms and spark conversations about social justice through a STEM-informed lens. Events like ICT fairs and community showcases give parents and local leaders a front-row seat to what girls can truly accomplish. Durga Buda’s story is a powerful example. Once expected to become a daughter-in-law at a young age, she is now seen as a symbol of possibilities that come from access to digital tools and consistent support. Changing one student at a time, survey data shows that 95% of EDGE participants believe family attitudes toward girl’s education have improved since they joined the program.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025090216098_18e8bdc3fcca28270428089ec4f4d0300443a67eb55fdf9ccfcf6a6cb7842abd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025090216098_18e8bdc3fcca28270428089ec4f4d0300443a67eb55fdf9ccfcf6a6cb7842abd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Taking STEM to the grassroots"> <figcaption></figcaption></figure>  The British Council’s Women in STEM Scholarships is a global initiative which enables women from Nepal to pursue master’s degrees in cutting-edge fields such as artificial intelligence, biomedical engineering, data science, and renewable energy at leading UK universities. It covers full tuition, living expenses, and travel costs. Last year, six Nepali women were awarded the scholarship, a significant milestone that underscores both the talent and the untapped potential of young women in Nepal. This is not just about studying abroad, it means stepping into leadership in fields that are shaping the future. When women are given the tools to lead in such spaces, the benefits extend far beyond individual achievement, they spark change at the community and national level. STEM education also helps girls become informed citizens by cultivating civic education and democratic values. Digital literacy enables them to access information, stay safe online, and engage in public life. Girls with prior digital training are more likely to stay engaged in learning activities and less vulnerable to early marriage or isolation. In fragile settings, these skills can be lifelines. The economic argument is compelling. Closing the gender gap in STEM could add to the national GDP of countries, but the moral imperative is just as strong. No society can thrive while excluding half its population from shaping its future. The climate crisis, public health emergencies, and digital transformation all demand diverse, inclusive leadership. If there’s one lesson from EDGE, and similar efforts, it’s that change is possible, and it starts early. Girls like Durga and Simrika are learning new digital and English skills, but they’re also reshaping what is possible for themselves and for those who come after to build their common futures. Bhogendra Lamichhane is the English and School Education Lead at the British Council in Nepal and is involved in the EDGE program. Dinesh Sanjel, who leads the Language and Inclusivity in Foundational Education (LIFE) at the British Council project contributed in preparing this article.

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Taking STEM to the grassroots

Growing up in Jhapa, Sabita Giri often had to cross over to India with her family to buy daily goods and essentials. On one such trip, she overheard some people talking about how the bridge across the Mechi River was “dying”.&nbsp; As a sixth grader, she wondered what made bridges “die”. It was only when she came to Kathmandu for higher studies and became a civil engineer that she realised that bridges indeed have a life expectancy. Today, Giri is among 21 trainee engineers working on the Motorable Local Roads Bridge (MLRB) Program that aims to connect Nepal’s roads with bridges across the country’s mainly north-south rivers. “When I was young, all I knew as a career choice was completing a PhD and working as a teacher. Becoming a civil engineer has opened a whole host of possibilities,” says Giri, who is stationed at MLRB in Hetauda. An average rural road in Nepal needs a bridge across a river every 15km, and this is not counting culverts and drainage overpasses. Although there are now roads almost everywhere, the lack of bridges means large parts of the country are inaccessible during the monsoon. Giri and her colleagues provide the much-needed technical expertise to design and construct safer, more accessible bridges throughout Nepal. Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/bridging-the-gap-in-nepal/"> Bridging the gap in Nepal</a>, Amit Machamasi  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230304050340_2633ab30e9044836e94a86efd9be38257bb921ac56168d80b6e3e75d17c3df1c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230304050340_2633ab30e9044836e94a86efd9be38257bb921ac56168d80b6e3e75d17c3df1c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="719" loading="lazy" alt="Women Engineers 1"> <figcaption>Photo: SDC(Photo: Photo: SDC)</figcaption> </figure>  Over the last two decades, the government worked on expanding both the Local Road Network (LRN) and Strategic Road Network (SRN). These have now been reclassified as national highways, provincial highways and local roads by Constitution of Nepal 2015. While most national highways are now all-weather, provincial highways and local roads remain largely unpaved and are fair-weather. The Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation (SDC) initiated MLRB program in 2011 in response to a request from the Nepal government, and it is a logical extension of Swiss technical assistance in designing and building nearly 10,000 trail bridges across Nepal since the 1970s. After 2015, national highways fell under the purview of the federal government while many of the 25,728km roads previously identified as district roads were the responsibility of provincial governments. These provincial roads needed 1,720 bridges to make them all-weather, but the provinces lacked institutions, legal frameworks, and technical capacity to deliver. The government approached the Swiss, and the initiative continued.SDC had started an internship program for female civil engineers in 2008, with six women engineers recruited in the first cohort to work in the District Road Support Program (DSRP).&nbsp; This internship program has continued and grown since with women engineers working on various infrastructure projects across the country. “During the nine-month traineeship, engineers learn and are involved in a whole cycle of bridge building: survey, design, investigation and construction,” explains Aman Jonchhe at SDC. For the first month, the engineers are trained in technical aspects, designs as well as constitutional provisions and management skills. Then they gain first-hand experience working on trail bridges as well as motorable bridges.&nbsp; This year, 31 female civil engineers have been enrolled in the traineeship program in Swiss-funded projects: 21 in motorable bridges and 10 in small-scale irrigation.&nbsp; So far, 82 women engineers have worked on various infrastructure programs including DSRP, MLRB and irrigation. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6703#.Y3ysxuxBzDJ">Bridge builders think nationally and act locally</a>, Hemlata Rai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230304050340_2b0074f7aec8f86922b7fc9e688a6ef306b50edfc5005fbc9db434433542b0de.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230304050340_2b0074f7aec8f86922b7fc9e688a6ef306b50edfc5005fbc9db434433542b0de" data-rendition-name="original" width="2592" height="1728" loading="lazy" alt="Swiss ambassador with women engineers"> <figcaption>Swiss Ambassador to Nepal Elisabeth von Capeller with trainee civil engineers building bridges across Nepal's seven provinces.(Photo: Photo: SDC)</figcaption> </figure>  “The best team must be as diverse as the society it works in. Diversity is proven to generate more innovative, creative, and inclusive decisions and better performing teams,” says Elisabeth von Capeller, the Swiss Ambassador to Nepal. “We need to change the mindset of society, challenge gender stereotypes, and do a better job of showing, supporting, and promoting diversity.” As of July 2019, with technical support from the MLRB program, the government constructed 358 motorable bridges, making an additional 4,895km of local roads accessible throughout the year. Says Ambassador von Capeller, “Attracting and supporting more women in engineering benefits everyone by increasing the potential to develop inclusive, innovative solutions for the complex problems the world is facing.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230304050340_892e3144871b721999678031b6f728dbea403fec1579ded510c7e20689a496d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230304050340_892e3144871b721999678031b6f728dbea403fec1579ded510c7e20689a496d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Women Engineers 2"> <figcaption>Photo: Bigyata Sitoula(Photo: Photo courtesy: Bigyata Sitoula)</figcaption> </figure>  Bigyata Sitoula (pictured above) was in the first cohort of trainee women engineers to work on the motorable local bridge program. She joined the traineeship in 2013 right after graduating with a degree in civil engineering and today heads the team in Karnali Province as Project Coordinator. Sitoula is from Tehrathum and is no stranger to the hardships posed by lack of access in the mountains. When she was young, a trip to her hometown from Kathmandu meant days of walking. The bus would take her family to Basantapur from where the district headquarters was a day’s trek. From there it took two more days of walking to reach her village of Chuhandanda. With a new road, the trip is much shorter today. Having motorable bridges contributes to better access to health, education, and economic opportunities, especially for women who often have to travel long distances to fetch water, firewood, or during childbirth and health emergencies, which can be life-threatening. In fact, the spread of Nepal’s road network has been a factor in bringing down the country’s maternal mortality rate dramatically through an increase in institutional deliveries. Although Bigyata Sitoula has not had the opportunity to work on bridges in her own Tehrathum, she has been to almost all the districts in Karnali Province designing and building bridges. One of her work trips took her to parts of Jajarkot, where the roads were yet to be connected via motorable bridges. “We had to cross a suspension trail bridge then change vehicles, then get off and cross another suspension bridge and then get on another vehicle numerous times during the entire trip,” says Sitoula. “It was one of the more challenging areas I have been to, and it showed the problems we faced.” Sitoula says her main motivation is the realisation of how much a bridge helps local people. In Jumla where a bridge joining the district to Mugu is under-construction, villagers crowded around her team to urge them to work faster. “They were excited about the possibilities of trade, shorter travel time and because the bridge would help women in their daily chores or to get to a health post,” says Sitoula. Read more: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Dolakha-rebuilding-bridges-after-quake,3702">Bridge builders</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230304050340_62de3f9f08818e3203e79601cb3876eb7a8823eba8d6406750f35ce38fce4fce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230304050340_62de3f9f08818e3203e79601cb3876eb7a8823eba8d6406750f35ce38fce4fce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="901" loading="lazy" alt="Women Engineers 3"> <figcaption>Photo: SDC(Photo: Photo: SDC)</figcaption> </figure>  There have been challenges. Some of it is geographical and some more socio-cultural. Female civil engineers have had to deal with the patriarchal mindset of local people and other stakeholders. “When I first started as a trainee, people were skeptical that a woman could be an engineer,” recalls Sitoula. “That attitude has changed to some extent, and I have now grown more confident in myself and my work. But even now, there are times when people are doubtful about my qualifications and experience just because I am a woman.” Nepal ranks among the countries with the lowest female representation in senior and middle management roles. According to the World Bank, in 2017, although the female labour force participation rate in Nepal was 78.7%, only 13.9% of women held jobs in management positions. “Maybe because the number of female civil engineers is still lower compared to men, the discrimination persists,” adds Sayara Bhujel, a civil engineer completing her traineeship in Bagmati Province. Women engineers also often have to deal with being undermined and ignored. Even when men in the same or similar position are addressed as ‘Sir’, women are called ‘Nani’ and ‘Baini.’ In the field, most queries are directed at the men, even if it is women leading the project. “There are times when contractors and labourers don’t take us seriously and resort to teasing us,” says Radha Yadav, who is also completing her traineeship in Hetauda. Some others have also had to deal with casteist remarks.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230304050340_f5e2293643f5529a143cb5c96188f37172ed41cc6566b902e04da8cee24eed23.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230304050340_f5e2293643f5529a143cb5c96188f37172ed41cc6566b902e04da8cee24eed23" data-rendition-name="original" width="4624" height="3468" loading="lazy" alt="Women Engineers 4"> <figcaption>Photo: Bigyata Sitoula(Photo: Photo: SDC)</figcaption> </figure>  Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4433#.Y3ysKexBzDI">Building bridges</a> But it is not just the professional environment where they face discrimination, it starts in college. “As a student, I had to speak up and asked to be included in lab work and other tasks like data recording, since boys were given more priority,” recalls another engineer, Nisha Lama. “Some teachers also discriminated against girls.” The female engineers we spoke with said they have taken all this in their stride, and have learnt to navigate, create, and claim spaces for themselves in the profession and society. When questioned about their technical designs or expertise, they all said they let their work speak for themselves. Says Bigyata Sitoula: “Being in a leadership position is a challenge and an opportunity to change the opinion of society and to create a safe space for the next generation of women coming into the workforce.” Coming from a community that does not usually give enough importance to the education of girl children, Radha Yadav believes she can serve as an example of what women can do if they are given equal opportunities. She says fair compensation for work and a good support system at home also help. “I am here because my father is a principal at a school and understood that girls have to be educated, and he encouraged me to realise my potential,” says Yadav. During one of her initial deployments in Surkhet, Sitoula got into an argument with a contractor when she pointed out that the plan for support work on an under construction bridge had problems. The design was eventually revised. “I could do that because my supervisor at the time gave me the authority to speak up,” she says. “The more representation we have in the workforce and the more people get used to seeing women in public spaces and professional environments, the easier it will become to gain the trust of the &nbsp;society.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nurture-in-her-nature/">Nurture in her nature</a>, Babita Shrestha

Sahina Shrestha

The women connecting Nepal

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

RSP’s activist DNA

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

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

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

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible While premium beauty product outlets were closing during the Covid-19 pandemic, two young women gambled on setting up a new skin and haircare brand with natural ingredients mostly sourced from Nepal and suited for the Nepali complexion. Arushree Sharma Khatiwada and Megha Agarwal were batchmates in school before they left for studies abroad, returning to set up Avani Nepal after year-long rigorous research into ayurveda-based cosmetic products. Avani in Sanskrit means ‘earth’, and as the name suggests it is committed to bringing all natural, pure and authentic range of beauty solutions.&nbsp; “We found a gap in the Nepali market demand for cosmetics, which is why we decided on a brand sourced from all-natural Himalayan herbs that are not used or explored properly,” says co-founder Khatiwada.&nbsp; Nepal is a treasure trove for medicinal plants and those with therapeutic properties. After all, legend has it that Hanuman flew right across the subcontinent from Sri Lanka to the Himalaya to find a rare medicinal plant to save the life of Lord Ram, who was wounded in battle. When he could not find the specific plant, he tore off a whole mountain and brought it down. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Looking good by doing good</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="2012" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Medicinal plants in Nepal range from yarsagumba to jatamasi and 500 other species traditionally used in the Ayurveda as well as now in the wellness industry. Avani is also trying to experiment hibiscus, Himalayan honey and other plants to eventually launch an export drive. Running a business in Nepal is no easy task, especially for small scale locally crafted products but in a few years, Avani has ammased loyal customer base and have many repeat customers. “While it was tricky initially, we were determined to launch our products with the best quality ingredients and in an affordable price range,” says Khatiwada. Following a worldwide trend and emulating the method used by Korean cosmetic brands, Avani has deployed celebrities and influencers to increase its outreach through tikTok , Facebook and YouTube. &nbsp;Actresses Barsha Shiwakoti and Shilpa Maskey and makeup artists like Lemi have reviewed their products favourably. Sutainability is a big part of the brand, and Avani uses glass bottles, cardboard boxes, paper bags for all its products. Plastic use is cut to a minimum, and where used is recycled.&nbsp; “Many people think that sustainable brands are expensive, we want to bust that myth,” Khatiwada told us. “We focus on being eco-friendly using ethically sourced materials that are paraben, silicon, and cruelty free.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/proud-to-wear-dolpo">Proud to wear DOLPO</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49" data-rendition-name="original" width="1048" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Avani has expanded its business to get a toehold in Nepal’s tourism and wellness industry, and the products are carried by spas in leading hotels and resorts in Kathmandu and Pokhara such as the Terraces, Marriott, and Kavya resort, and is in talk with the Hideaway Resort in Pokhara.&nbsp; The skin and haircare brand that initially started with 10 products has since expanded its line to 60 with goods placed in more than 100 stores across Kathmandu. Plans are in the works to expand to India, China and in Japan partnering with Okada. Avani Nepal’s founders say that they support empowerment through employment and training opportunities for women at the company. Khatiwada herself has been engaged with organisations such as Nepal Women Chamber of Commerce, and Nepal Youth Entrepreneur Forum. Additional support from the government such as the provision of lower excise duties has helped but guidance for export and other business regulations is as crucial. Such an environment would also foster opportunities for the youth who are otherwise moving away for jobs or study abroad. “While everyone is trying to go abroad, opportunities can be created here in Nepal itself, with adequate support from the government,” says Khatiwada. “In the meantime, we are eyeing for long term benefits. We are trying to create a legacy for cosmetic brands in Nepal.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/java-in-the-himalaya-y1ilc21h">Java in the Himalaya</a>, Vishad Raj Onta

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Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers

Redefining the criteria for beauty