<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b919a9c7e80680e06f0fdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="1280"/><figcaption>Bidi Yolkey Rai mapping the sate of deliberative decision-making in her Palika.</figcaption></figure>Bidi Yolkey Rai, 28, struggles to conduct an online session on the importance of local government committees that deal with Covid-19, the climate impact on agriculture, or road construction. “मलाई सुनि राख्नु भएको छ?” (“Can you hear me?”) She asks from time to time.The internet in this remote part of Rolpa district is erratic, and the faces of local government officials freeze often on her laptop monitor. Her work is to mentor members of local municipalities to better understand problems, plan solutions and implement them through a deliberative decision-making process.After Nepal’s local governments were elected in the 2017 federal elections, many municipal council members were unsure of their responsibilities, mandates, and decision-making roles. Rai’s job is to support them in local governance.Till a month ago, Rai would pack some snacks and a bottle of water in her backpack, put on hiking shoes and be off to visit another distant ward in roadless Rolpa to meet the local representatives. However, as the second wave of the Covid-19 pandemic moved up to the mountains it changed everything.“Why are we not treated equally?”Bidi Yolkey Rai is one of the many local government mentors who had to return home after the pandemic hit the country in late April, and she now conducts her meetings online – bandwidth permitting.She is part of the ‘Coherence’ program that supports elected members of Nepal’s municipalities and wards to strengthen their planning and decision-making capabilities. Politics is all very new in this rugged and isolated district that was the cradle of the Maoist armed struggle in 1996.Rai herself saw the decade-long conflict up close as a child. Almost every day, the insurgents would appear at their home and her parents would have to feed them without asking any questions.One day while on her way to school, she was caught in the crossfire between the guerrillas and the security forces. Witnessing violence up close, she was convinced politics was a dirty game and all about killing people, and she was never going to be a part of it. Nineteen years later, she still cannot walk the path where the skirmish took place.Yet, after the conflict ended in 2006 and her father joined the movement for the inclusion of indigenous rights in the Constitution, Rai began to slowly change her opinion about politics—it could be a vehicle for peaceful societal reform. She respected her father, and it all started making sense to her.“I started thinking maybe politics was not such a bad thing, after all,” Rai recalls. “If all of us are humans, why were we not treated equally?”At an age when her teenage friends were out having fun, Rai found herself taking part in conversations about identity politics. She moved to Kathmandu to go to college, but there she got a rude shock. Her classmates made fun of her for talking about political rights and inclusion. To be accepted by her peers, she had to cut herself off any talk of politics and gossip about fashion and celebrities like her friends.But after volunteering for Teach for Nepal, Rai found her true calling in life, and although the idea of mentoring politicians twice her age was intimidating at first, she has been more than up to the challenge.“Fake speeches and hollow promises”Nara Sunar, 29, is also a mentor with the Coherence program, and had to flee his home village in Humla at age 13 when the Maoists demanded that every household had to contribute one fighter for the revolution. It took him six days to walk to a road head to get a bus to the border, and he worked in India for a few years.At the end of the conflict he landed up in Kathmandu to continue his studies with the help of a child rights organisation. Like Bidi Rai, he was also turned off by politics and thought it was “full of fake speeches and hollow promises” because every time he went back to his village in Humla, the reality struck him that nothing had changed.“My friends who fought the war were behaving exactly like they did before. It was as if politics was all about using us people for the benefit of a few to get to power,” Sunar recalls.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-past-present-and-future-in-a-photo/">Nepal’s past, present and future in a photo</a>, Bhumi Ghimire<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b919c9c7e80680e06f0fejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1943" height="1404"><figcaption>Nara Sunar conversing with the Chair of a Palika in Humla</figcaption></figure>When Indra Nath Mishra, 26, returned to his village after graduating in mechanical engineering from India, schools were closed, there were protests across the Madhes and people roamed around with guns.“Politics for me meant fear, I saw it as something that only brought trouble,” Mishra recalls. It was only after he joined a government college in Kathmandu that was steeped in debate about the new constitution that he began to reconsider his earlier perception about politics. He found the issues raised by the Madhes-based parties agreeable, but not without questions.Chiranjivi Pandey, 29, did not hate politics as such, but his perception of political issues of the day were rather shaped by teashop discussions or newspaper headlines. He believed that politics itself was not bad, it was the politicians that were the problem who were giving politics a bad name.With the promulgation of the new Constitution in 2015 that replaced Nepal’s unitary and centralised state structure with a federal system of governance, the ‘system’ formally changed. The first elections under the federal constitution in 2017 reinstated political representatives at the local levels for the first time after 20 years of being ruled by civil servants appointed by Kathmandu.The new Constitution promised the ‘elimination of all forms of discrimination’ and the formation of ‘an egalitarian society’ based on the principles of proportional inclusion. The Constitution promised hope through the devolution of political decision-making and inclusion.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b919f9c7e80680e06f0ffjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Indra Nath Mishra and Chiranjivi Panday in a Palika in Madhesh.</figcaption></figure>“The youth are free of baggage of the past”Seizing the opportunity, the intergovernmental <a href="https://www.idea.int/">International IDEA</a> in partnership with Nepal’s Ministry of Federal Affairs and UK’s General Administration and Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office (then DFID) designed a program to support the newly-elected local governments.In 2018, it had its first batch of mentors ready to pilot the approach in Humla. However, it was not an easy decision to make because the perception was that federalism was such a complex issue that only ‘experts’ could explain it to local governments.Budhi Karki of International IDEA, who proposed the idea of young mentors recalls: “We were clear that supporting local governments means supporting the federal system, and that would bring devolution. You cannot support change with the same old way of thinking and working. If we had used experts, they would have needed to unlearn what they had been doing with local bodies in the past. With fresh youth, we were free from that baggage, they had a learning attitude and they were ready to work in any place with extreme conditions.”Under the program, the mentors were selected and went through a month-long induction designed to prepare the mentors about the basics of Nepal’s federal system, structure, and processes of local governance, and most importantly, the attitude and approach needed for the new way of support.Since 2018, International IDEA has mobilised almost 50 mentors, some in partnership with Kathmandu University and Nitishala Nepal who have served in 15 local governments in Karnali, Lumbini Provinces, and Province 2.As a mentor Bidi Rai immediately came face to face with the powerful idea of letting local people decide local issues. “When I was younger I used to wonder why Kathmandu made all the decisions about our community without knowing anything about local problems. The elected local leaders I interacted with knew everyone in their village, and this forced them to be more accountable to people,” she says.“Is he really a people’s leader if he rides a horse to meetings?”Chiranjivi Pandey was also struck that decentralisation of government was beginning to allow people to channel their grievances. One day, he heard someone say at a municipality training in Karnali Province: “Is he really a people’s leader if he rides a horse to meetings?” It showed to him that federalism had empowered local people to speak up.“Suddenly, they could stop the representatives they elected anywhere and anytime to vent their problems,” he adds.Contrary to his experience in Karnali, Chiranjivi found less political awareness amongst the people as well as local representatives in Madhes. His colleague Indra Nath Mishra, who has experience working in both the mountains and plains, has an explanation for this.He says, “The mountains have geographical complexities which are not man-made, they are of a topographical nature. The problems in Madhes are man-made. Important leadership positions in local governments are held by old-generation leaders who are still in the Panchayat era. They do politics for their own political or economic gain, they don’t care for us, they don’t fear us.”He adds that the problems do not end there. Many elected representatives, such as ward council members lack a basic understanding of their roles and responsibilities under federalism. They are the ones whose decision-making capacity and accountability have to be enhanced. But the trainings are conducted by so called ‘senior’ (and mostly retired) experts who are rigid in their ways, and lack the empathy to support the devolution process.“We stayed in a few trainings they delivered, and I observed a disrespectful attitude towards the locally elected representatives,” says Pandey. “They think local politicians don’t know anything. The PowerPoint slides provide fragmented information, and they often miss the bigger picture. There is no follow-up, it’s like a one-time job for them. Unfortunately, the government and development partners often go after them.”After attending a few of these trainings in the mountains, mid-hills and Tarai, Pandey is convinced that it is in the Madhes where the capacity building through mentorship is needed the most.He also feels that political parties have deceived the people by their choice of candidates for the reserved posts of historically excluded groups. “Even when more politically aware candidates from these groups were available, the ones chosen are often the silent, pliant individuals who do not question their authority. I wonder if this was a calculated move by the parties,” Pandey adds.As a member of the Dalit community himself, Nara Sunar feels that there is still a long way to go, even within the federal system, towards meaningful inclusion in social and political spaces.“The Dalit and women are there only because of the quota. Even then, a few influential ones have captured the power, and other representatives are silent observers. I have had Dalit representatives come to me asking to come along while presenting their plans in the meeting because they would not be heard if they were alone,” says Sunar, while admitting that it is because of the mandatory quotas that the dynamics of political space is more favourable to change than the social space.“The biggest change is that the minorities are there and they know that they have equal rights and a share of the resources. The question in front of us now is how to support them and make the best use of those resources and it’s not easy,” Sunar adds.Bidi Rai blames the lack of deliberation around the planning process for this anomaly. “There is no proper assessment of problems. The budget distribution, especially for the women and Dalit is considered as a checklist. How does a one-day pickle-making training or a celebration of women’s day serve to change the lives of women?” she asks.“Nothing is apolitical”Born to a privileged family in Kathmandu, Melissa Shrestha, 25, got her education abroad. Staying in Karnali, Melissa learnt the hardships of rural life, the basic day-to-day necessities they struggle to meet that she took for granted.“My parents were  opposed to me joining this program till the last minute, but I wanted to get out of my bubble,” Shrestha says. “I used to post only pretty pictures on Facebook so that they did not force me to return. Coming here helped me examine my privileges and understand the dynamics of governance.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91a29c7e80680e06f100jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption>Melissa Shrestha visiting a Palika in Rukum West with her teammate.</figcaption></figure>As a youth, Indra Mishra was always saddened to see the state of his village: the roads would be ‘soil-topped’ only to be swept away by floods every year.“I used to think that development was all about infrastructure. This program made me realise that service delivery and social development are equally important, and so is the process through which we reach the decisions on development priorities. However technical the subject is, if it involves a political process, it is a political decision,” Mishra says, “That’s why nothing is apolitical. Politics is like the universal set of a Venn-diagram, and every other topic are the subsets of it.”Working closely with local representatives, listening to their personal stories of struggle and success, their frustrations and satisfaction have given Mishra and his fellow mentors of the Coherence program an insider look into local politics. They are not just mere observers of the system anymore.It has given them a deeper understanding of the political process, the knowledge of ground realities, and most of all an attitude not to take things at face value. Some are taking the knowledge and perspectives they gained as mentors beyond their jobs to support their own municipalities during the Covid-19 crisis—transforming them to become more responsible and conscious citizens.Despite the gloom and doom of the political paralysis in Kathmandu, the mentorship program brings a glimmer of hope that political decentralisation is the way forward for Nepal. There is also the realisation that a new generation of young Nepalis have the energy and optimism about the future to bring about the changes from the grassroots up.They strive to break the glass ceiling while at the same time diving deep to see things holistically. This is a generation that vows to correct the injustices of the past, and that believes as much in the process as in the final goal.However, these young mentors are also proof that there has been so little investment to channel the energy, motivation and commitment of Nepal’s youths. They are considered nothing but stepping stones by the political parties for their own partisan gain, and they are not trusted enough to participate as the agents of change.Just like many of the Coherence program mentors themselves believed before they joined up, there are many young people in Nepal who abhor politics because they think it is a dirty game, they avoid following the news and blame politicians for everything that is wrong with the country. This program has shown that it is possible to change that, and to engage the youth and turn them into agents of political reform.“If not us, who?”Phanindra Adhikary leads the Coherence program at International IDEA and screens applications for the post of mentors, and admits that it is disheartening to see these youths with big degrees not having the basic knowledge of what is happening in the country.“Maybe this is why a program like this is more relevant than ever,” says Adhikari, who himself was in the last batch of the National Development Service volunteer program in the 1970s after finishing college.“For us at that time, the learning was limited as we were just volunteer teachers. But it was also thrilling and it helped me to widen my worldview,” he says. “What the youth have here is a lot more than that – it is a direct engagement to influence governments at the grassroots.”Indra Mishra, who had thought of running for local elections in 2017 has not ruled out the possibility in the next polls.Being one of only two people with a master’s degree in his village, Nara Sunar is skeptical that people would vote a Dalit as a municipality chair, but he is not giving up yet.Bidi Rai says the program has helped her realise that she has a key role in the process of change. She says, “If not us, who?”Durga Karki herself worked as a local government mentor for International                IDEA and now works for its Coherence program. <img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91a59c7e80680e06f101jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="88" height="109">

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“Everything is political”

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141132/636bac0d9c7e80680e077f10jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1840" height="1228"/><figcaption>Photo: ENOUGH IS ENOUGH NEPAL CAMPAIGN/TWITTER</figcaption></figure>As the<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-plans-to-open-in-five-stages/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> lockdown enters its fourth month with no sign of any letup</a>, many people (even city-dwellers) seems to be taking up roof gardening and food production because they have time to kill, and the need to stock up on food during the pandemic.Indirectly, the lockdown has helped promote an activity we should have engaged in anyway. It has forced us to re-learn the experiments and projects from high school biology class.As eager students we all studied germination by dropping a seed into the soil, and found out that no matter which side is up, the first green shoots shoot up to the surface to catch the sun. The roots instinctively fan out downwards to gather vital nutrients.Plants cannot be convinced or corrupted to do things differently. In politics, however, everything and anything is possible. It really depends on how many votes can be mobilised to say and do anything a politician seeks.In a country with a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/bow-out/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">self-described communist party in government with a two-third majority</a>, the opposition has become irrelevant. Question time in parliament is just a formality, and a video op for those who want to show off oratorical skills.Biology is a science of all forms of life. Politics, it seems, is the art of manipulation and the end goals are to stay in power and accumulate wealth at any cost to perpetuate that power. Politicians study neither biology, nor political science.Then there are political scientists who can tell us ten ways to run the republic with examples from all corners of the globe. They have almost no say in how Nepal manages the pandemic or how our country is governed. They can be seen in heated debates on political talk shows on tv, or pontificating away on the op-eds -- but are never consulted when politicians have to make decisions based on science or expertise.The current global crisis offers us a chance to explore and understand these issues, adopt best practices from elsewhere so we do not end up making the same costly mistakes others have made. South Korea and Singapore believe in science and make policies based on it, but the USA and Brazil patently do not. New Zealand’s prime minister looks like someone who understands the interface of politics and science, the German chancellor is a biologist herself.With over 140,000 Americans dead from COVID-19, should that country still be arguing over masks? Should that decision even be left to politicians? All around us we hear and read the works of amazing biologists and political scientists who are angry, and often frustrated because they are not taken seriously by politicians.In Kathmandu there is a push to open up new roads and expand or widen existing ones so that the price of land will continue to go up. Land is limited in the valley, but an even more limiting factor is the air we breathe. If there is one take-away from the current pandemic it is that the virus attacks those body parts that are most vulnerable. Our respiratory system in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-lockdown-proves-air-quality-can-be-improved/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the polluted valley</a> was already at risk, the virus has increased it.The science may be clear but we would rather buy oxygen cylinders and ventilators than clear the air, because it is good for the economy. Biologists tell us we need to protect remaining forests, cut emissions. This science needs to be translated into political policy.George Floyd was gagged by a policeman’s knee and could not breathe. We are gagged by policies that are also killing us. Even without the coronavirus.Young Nepalis get it. They are out in Patan Darbar Square on hunger strike with ‘Enough is Enough’ placards. Essentially their message is that we have wrong policies, and even when we have the right ones, corruption, mismanagement and apathy gets in the way. They have had enough.We have all had enough, but these <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/social-movement-through-social-media/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">youngsters are making their voices heard</a> in creative ways to save the future. Nepal’s obsolete politicians better sit up and listen.Biology is a science, and political science or politics may be more of an art form. All three need to come together to fundamentally change the way we run our societies and pursue progress. A new post COVID-19 world is one in which humans co-exist with other species on the planet.If we destroy the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/crushing-tale-of-Chure" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Chure Hills</a> by removing its forests and extracting construction material from it, Birgunj, Janakpur and other cities in the Tarai will be inundated every monsoon. Local governments should be ready to spend all their tax revenue on flood relief and recovery for a long time if we keep electing politicians who do not understand the science of floods.The past three months have displayed that neither the biology of a virus nor the political science of good governance took centre stage. Nepal needs to brace itself for worse to come because we did not.Anil Chitrakar is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddharthinc</a> and writes this fortnightly column 1/2 Full in Nepali Times.

Anil Chitrakar

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The interface of politics and science

The World Economic Forum’s annual list of Young Global Leaders (YGL) has featured very few Nepalis so far. The 2015 batch included <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Policies-for-the-people,3640" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali Congress MP Gagan Thapa</a>.Others who have made it to the list include Aashmi Rana (2009), Ashutosh Tiwari (2011) and Tshering Lama (2015).Now, Nepali youth and social activist Pradip Pariyar has surprisingly, but deservedly, found a place on the list for his contribution to social inclusion and peace-building involving Nepal’s youth. Pariyar is the executive chair of the Kathmandu-based non-profit <a href="https://www.samatafoundation.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Samata Foundation</a>.		
							<figure><img width="1000" height="667" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101152/636b789d9c7e80680e0646aejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Activist and executive chair of Samata Foundation Pradip Pariyar. Photo: SANTU LAMA</figcaption></figure>His inclusion puts Pariyar in the company of Jacinda Ardern, Mark Zuckerberg, Jack Ma, Chelsea Clinton, Farhan Akhtar and Viswanathan Anand. Many previous YGL title-holders are now running governments, heading international organisations and changing the world with innovative business ideas.After making it onto the YGL list, a delighted Pariyar told the Nepali Times: “This is a very big moment not just for me, but also for my country and people.”The road thus far has not been easy for 38-year-old Pariyar. Born to a Dalit family in Sindhuli district, he had to struggle against untouchability and caste discrimination from a very young age.“Untouchability is as inhumane as apartheid, or even more so,” said Pariyar, who first experienced it as an innocent ninth grader. Every evening after school, he used to go for tuition to the house of a math teacher who was a Brahmin. The teacher would allow his non-Dalit pupils to sit inside, but Pariyar was made to sit outside the door.  One evening, it started to rain, and the young Pradip got wet. The teacher saw him drenched and shivering outside, but still did not ask him to come in and sit with the others. Pariyar felt hurt and humiliated, and never went back to the teacher’s house again.“That sowed the first seeds of caste consciousness in my young mind, and defined my later activism,” says Pariyar.Pariyar recalls the importance of his encounter with Dalit activist and politician Golchhe Sarki in the 1990s, who once created a sensation by throwing his shoes at Nepali Congress leader Ram Chandra Poudel for the latter’s racist remarks.Sarki had spent a night at Pariyar’s family home in Sindhuli during a political campaign. He had spoken with Pariyar’s father about <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16791#.Xmi1AXIzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">caste, Dalits, untouchability and politics</a>, and the young Pradip had listened attentively. He also understood why Sarki was staying with his family and not at the house of a non-Dalit communist cadre.Pariyar came to Kathmandu for higher studies, and caste discrimination pursued him to the capital. He was hounded out of his rented room many times, and finally found a Muslim landlord who agreed to take him in.   Years of suffering discrimination has forged Pariyar into a fierce social justice activist. He went on to produce radio programs, inspiring Dalits to share their stories of discrimination, exclusion and injustice.He says Dalits and other excluded ethnicities still feel excluded by the Nepali state, and says: “The absence of violence does not mean there is peace.”When the war ended in 2006, Pariyar travelled through the mid-western mountains, where he met many disoriented, disillusioned and hopeless youth. He realised it would not be possible to build peace without engaging the youth and igniting their minds. He founded Nepal Youth Forum, and also served as chair of the Association of Youth Organisations Nepal (AYON).Pariyar was also a member of the taskforces that drafted Nepal’s first National Youth Policy, and the Youth Vision (2015-2025). He says one of the reasons why Nepal is being run the way it is today is because younger Nepalis have not been given the chance to formulate policy and govern.  He says: “Youth in all the parties have not been able to challenge 70-something top leaders, and instead of confronting them the young cadre are just waiting for their turn to get old and claim the posts. This does not bode well for our future”.

Nepal’s new Davos man

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDzDf8n-eSYKarvika Thapa was living the American dream in Boston with a promising career in the Information Technology sector. But after 14 years she decided to head back home to Nepal with her husband and two young daughters.During the three years since, she has worked hard to establish a successful international software company, Kimbu Tech, one of the very few women-led IT startups in Nepal.“At first, it was nerve-wracking, but I was excited to give back what I owed to my country where I grew up,” says the 40-year-old Karvika. “I also wanted my daughters to learn Nepali culture.”Starting a company was not at the top of her mind when she returned to Kathmandu, but when she found that there were so few women in Nepal’s IT sector, Karvika decided to take the risk and work to create quality jobs, especially for women in a male-dominated industry.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying in Nepal to create jobs</a>, Naresh NewarKarvika had been one of the handful of female students in the first year of Kathmandu College of Management’s bachelor’s program in information systems. She then went to the US for her MBA and stayed on to work, over the course of her years there, in IT solutions, data management, database marketing and campaigns in education, healthcare, and retail.Today, she leads a quality team of Nepali women and men who provide software development and maintenance for companies in Israel and the US. Karvika hopes that their work will help create a home for qualified and talented programmers in Nepal and that that in turn will build recognition globally for Nepali programmers.There are a few other companies working in IT and Artificial Intelligence in Nepal, and the sector has great potential as an employment generator. But Nepal’s talent pool of skilled programmers is still a well-kept secret in the IT world.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70b29c7e80680e060090jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1188"/><figcaption>Photo : NARESH NEWAR</figcaption></figure>Read also: Migrant worker finds farming in Nepal more rewarding, Naresh Newar“We have very professional young Nepalis working on some of the world’s most innovative animation and block chain projects. They have also worked on Disney movies while still based in Nepal, so there is no shortage of talent here” said Karvika.Although Karvika got her degree and worked abroad, she has learnt from experience that it is not necessary to have an IT degree to get into programming or coding. Students can enter the tech business with an arts or any other degree, and neither do Nepalis have to go abroad to find such jobs. Karvika’s company has been providing software and programming training in order to create more programmers and has been working with the Robotics Association of Nepal to provide scholarships to encourage young women.Read also: Rupesh's epic journey, Naresh Newar“My dream is to see women not just become IT experts and programmers but also take a leadership role in this field,” said Karvika, who wants also to change the mindsets of parents, who are so keen on sending their children abroad for better education and jobs. She says times have changed, and it is possible to do as well right here in Nepal, especially in the tech sector.There is high demand for programmers globally and Nepal should prepare itself to ride this wave. There are many international companies trying to set up shop here and build our IT industry, but for this to happen the government needs to step in and take advantage of the opportunity, explains Karvika. She gives the example of Bangladesh, which until a few years ago was not known for tech, but where the industry is now booming.Asked about her most rewarding experience after returning to Nepal, Karvika says it was when her company signed a contract with an international client. She said: “We had worked hard to get the project, and when we got it we realised we had put Nepal on the global map. It was amazing not just for our company but also for the country, for being internationally recognised.”Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/lighting-up-her-darkness/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Lighting up her darkness</a>, Naresh Newar

Returning to Nepal has its rewards

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70349c7e80680e060066jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2250" height="1267"/><figcaption>Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>Many conversations these days about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-in-the-2020s/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the coming 2020s decade</a> for Nepal, somehow always turns to a debate about our past.Usually it is the fatalists and those who have profited by sending <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/why-nepalis-are-flocking-to-okinawa/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali workers</a> and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-certificate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">students abroad</a> who use the lost opportunities about the past to make a case to justify their business. They make it a point to run down Nepal and its vast potential to move ahead in order to justify their argument that the best option is to leave.Few still romanticise the past because that is where they had their space and comfort. Historical wrongs have taken place here, as they have all over the world. There are do-able ways to correct these injustices to ensure that we can coexist peacefully into the future. But for many, village life was that past and life in the city here and around the world is the future.Attempts to get the discussion back to the future and the potential that Nepal has for growth and prosperity, often drift back into needless comparisons with other countries. Nepal can, should and needs to learn from other countries, but it is a bit like comparing apples and oranges.The USA was partly built by slaves and the British enriched themselves by exploiting colonies. We do not have oil like the Gulf. We do not have a relatively homogenous society like Japan. What are we comparing, then when we compare Tokha to Tokyo, or Dhumbarahi to Dubai?It is not helpful to take one narrow example and to extrapolate to generalise it as the universal development principle. Many study tours that Nepalis have taken are quite futile because they actually end up in raising a greater sense of helplessness.The Nepali resolution for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-will-nepal-develop-in-the-next-decade/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the 2020 decade</a> has to be to built more on what we can be and not so much on the way we were. Lessons are useful, but what good is it to organise a donors’ meeting when we are actually seeking investments?How useful are lessons on Leninism from the Soviet era? What is the use of planning for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/from-a-fossil-past-to-an-electric-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">a fossil economy</a> when the path ahead is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-electric-transport-future-is-here/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">clean and renewable energy</a>? The world must resolve not to repeat the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/make-or-break-decade-for-climate-action/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">failure of the Madrid Climate Summit</a>. The coming decade has to be about innovation and creativity that will benefit many more people who have been left behind.A new decade has begun with many parts of Australia burning, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/us-iran-war-could-wreck-nepal-economy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the Persian Gulf</a> is in a hair trigger, Europe and the UK have started divorce proceedings, and large cities in the most populated areas of the world like Jakarta and Venice are going underwater.Yet, many Nepali migrants have chosen these very countries as where the grass is greener. Yes Nepal is plagued with political uncertainty, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-klepto-republic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">corruption</a>, nepotism, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">bad air quality</a>. For Nepalis who migrated to New South Wales, it must feel like from the frying pan into the fire. In the USA many Nepali Americans face the possibility of being drafted into an escalating war.If we stopped focusing on the past, making irrelevant comparisons, we could actually begin to look at Nepal’s future more objectively. For example, Nepal is an upstream country. This word is often not used to describe Nepal and what its comparative advantage could be. Being an upper riparian has numerous advantages and opens up all kinds of possibilities.A country of 30 million is not small. And Nepal is not poor, just poorly governed. So let us stop describing ourselves as “a small and poor country”. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Having a young population</a> is not a liability but a historic opportunity that is the envy of rapidly-ageing countries like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-from-chitwan-to-chidoya,4110" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Japan</a>.One thing we will need while moving ahead is to restore our faith in ourselves.  Recently, climbing the steps of Swayambhu a fellow-walker remarked, “If people went to work with the same faith as they do when they go to temples, Nepal would surely develop.”Anil Chitrakar is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddharthinc.</a>

Back to the future in Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141120/636a57d49c7e80680e054803jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2657" height="2208"/><figcaption>Illustration: SUBHAS RAI</figcaption></figure>Till only two centuries ago almost every human being lived and worked from home. The industrial revolution brought factories, then offices forced city-dwellers to commute to work and back.But with the Information Age, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/nepals-new-digital-landscape/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">smart devices</a> in the hands of smart people means we can once again work from home. Going to an office will and should become irrelevant. Home workers will also not have to work five days a week. They will be so productive, three days will be enough.That is probably what will also reduce traffic jams, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-to-clean-up-kathmandus-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">improve the air quality</a> and as we become healthier, we will once again live longer. Where you are physically located will become irrelevant and the notion of going abroad will be limited to leisure, adventure and disposable incomes. But even here, we have seen a 15% drop in domestic air travel in northern Europe as awareness of the extent of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tourism-aviation-and-carbon/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">impact of aviation on the climate crisis</a> becomes clear.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/lets-listen-to-nepals-young-changemakers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Let's listen to Nepal's young changemakers</a>, Anil ChitrakarThe transformation in the way we work is going to have huge implication for the designs of homes, neighbourhoods and cities. The key word is ‘work’. There still are many who are looking for a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/success-in-nepal-means-not-having-to-work/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">jagir</a> salaried job in the civil service or private companies. Perception and understanding of work and jagir will be very different depending on who you ask.Some still seek a ten to five jagir in an office that pays a fixed income each month, comes with a lifelong pension, and takes a little bit of chakari to keep bosses and political masters happy. Performance and delivery of output are not really an issue, and the worst thing that can happen is you get moved to a different office or to some remote area of the country away from your family and the schools your children attend.Many are seeking a jagir, while others seek work. From construction to managing a restaurant, from driving a taxi or tipper truck to growing crops and vegetables, there are many who work.Work requires self-discipline and a high level of skill and knowledge, which come with a piece of paper that proves you can actually do what you are claiming. There are many risks, including not being paid or being constantly told that the work you did was not good enough.Work may also involve long hours and no holidays, unlike in a jagir where days off are published a year in advance. People who seek work like being independent and want to take risks knowing the benefits are there. They love to have fun, they really know when and how to spend time with family and friends.With the ongoing restructuring of the state there will be fewer government and private sector jagirs going around in Kathmandu. This may be a good opportunity to carve out our work niche for ourselves. Many already have a head start.Numerous producers and service providers have set up businesses. Many <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/lets-listen-to-nepals-young-changemakers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">young people</a> tell us that they are skilled, they have support from the family, have a bit of savings and they want to work – gainfully and independently.These are smart Nepalis with smart devices who want to work smart. They partner with other smart people and wish to live in smart houses in smart neighbourhoods of smart cities. The marketing is all data-driven in an age where data is more valuable than oil.We now need to extend this concept to our towns and cities. For example, being climate smart is critical for the future of humanity and hence there is a need for all individuals and families to do their own carbon audits. A smart app can tell us our carbon footprints, and suggest ways to reduce it.The smartest system is our ecosystem, and we are all smart enough to learn how nature produces for us and its limits to absorb what we waste. As we plan our homes, cities, energy and infrastructure, let us place smart citizens and their work at the centre of all planning.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nt/opinion/12-full-opinion/">Anil Chitrakar</a> is President of <a href="http://www.siddharthinc.com/">Siddharthinc</a>

Smarter Nepalis with smarter devices

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a56e29c7e80680e0547adjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="439"/>The surest sign that Nepal has already become an online society is the spreading practice of ‘digital detox’, where <a href="Nepal%20is%20becoming%20a%20nation%20of%20net%20addicts" target="_blank" rel="noopener">addicted users</a> completely abandon connected devices, or at least take steps to drastically limit their online time.When checking, then rechecking, devices becomes such a daily distraction that it starts to disrupt our work, sleep or relationships, it is time to take a step back and evaluate the benefit of clicking yet another link to reveal the umpteenth bit of information for the day and ask: ‘Is it really necessary?’To be sure, there are many benefits also of the digital world for Nepal. The internet has democratised information flow, levelled the playing field, and in many cases turned citizens into actors and content providers themselves. #occupywallstreet morphed into <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2013/04/06/solidarity-for-justice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">#occupybaluwatar</a> and the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-women-take-to-media-to-expose-abuse/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">#Metoo movement</a> encouraged long suppressed revelations about sexual assault in Nepal.Whether we see <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-nepals-media-landscape-is-being-transformed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">growing digitalisation</a> as positive or negative, one thing is sure: it is both, and Nepal will be even more digitised in the coming decades. A recent survey showed that 90% of Nepalis now own mobile devices, with half of them producing smartphones when asked, 95% of households have mobile phones for an average 2.5 devices per home<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/facebook-nation/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">, 88% of us use Facebook frequently</a>, and a whopping 8.5 million Nepalis are on the platform today. 45% are on messenger, 35% use IMO for instant messaging and 34% are regularly on YouTube.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32527&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> So, you want to quit Facebook?,</a> Reeti KC <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32537&amp;preview_nonce=96e6eb44eb&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s new digital landscape,</a> Sonia Awale<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32431&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Message is the Medium</a>, EditorialThese trends already have a major impact on where Nepalis get their information, what information they believe, and how that affects the trust between individuals and the institutions at the heart of a democratic society, including media and government.The survey found most Nepalis still consider mainstream media as generally reliable, as opposed to information on the Net, which very few believed. But as recent cases of Rabi Lamichhane, protests against heritage destruction, violence against women and corruption have shown: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/social-media-and-democracy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">social media content is now driving mainstream media coverage</a>. It is setting the agenda, and with it the potential for manipulation is growing.The Nepali Net is affecting politics because the young middle-class is now wired. Half of Nepal’s population is under 21, and this networked youth bulge will have huge political implications in the 2022 general election. Where new voters get their information, how they get it and what kind of information it is, will determine who rules Nepal and how in future. If the information is correct and credible, exposes wrongdoing, is fair to all concerned, and lets voters make up their own minds, the New Media will strengthen Nepal’s fragile democracy.If not, expect to hear more cries of ‘fake news’ and the growth of a digital media landscape that is likely to fuel the ‘digital detox’ trend.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-are-drifting-to-digital-media/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepalis are drifting to digital media</a>, Madhu Acharya and Bhumiraj Chapagain<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-nepals-media-landscape-is-being-transformed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's changing media landscape</a>, Sharecast Initiative<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/new-news/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">New news</a>, Editorial

Digital detox

<img width="1400" height="934" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a56f99c7e80680e0547b5jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Nepalis are now increasingly in control of the media content they consume thanks to the proliferation of mobile devices, better internet connectivity and new media platforms. A survey conducted in 2018 showed that 90% of Nepalis now own mobile devices, with half of them producing smartphones when asked. 95% of households have mobile phones, for an average 2.5 devices per home. Nearly everyone uses mobile phones to access the internet.  These results are from the Nepal Media Survey 2019, which queried 4,129 respondents in 42 districts. A summary of the survey, conducted by Sharecast Initiative, was published in this paper in April, and is now available in book form.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32527&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">So, you want to quit Facebook?</a>, Reeti K.C.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32425&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Digital detox,</a> Nepali Times  With 88% of respondents using Facebook frequently, it comes as no surprise that 8.5 million Nepalis are on the platform today, while 45% are on messenger and 35% on IMO for instant messaging between friends and relatives. YouTube is also popular, with 34% using it on a regular basis. Twitter has a much smaller following in Nepal but influencers, academics and movers and shakers are progressively using it to wield power online. This trend is only likely to rise with affordable 3G and 4G services and expansion of broadband Wi-Fi service across the country.Eyeballs are shifting to online media at a rapid pace. Nepalis are now using Facebook not only to connect with near and dear ones but increasingly as a source of news and information. While very few trust social media content, networking sites are no longer confined to personal sharing but are being adopted by politicians and activists for their campaigns. This has larger implications for Nepali society, politics and development. Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32431&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The message is the medium</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/facebook-nation/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Facebook nation</a>, Madhu Acharya Radio continues to be the main source of local information, with 49% tuning in regularly for news bulletins, but tv is catching up. Surprisingly, 58% said they consider neighbours and friends as a key source for local news and information. This number falls considerably when it comes to national and international news, where tv is preferred.  Tv is the most accessed form of mass media in Nepal, with 60% of households owning a set, whereas only 28% of households have a functioning radio. But more people listen to radio on their phones than on a radio set.  Legacy media continues to hold its own against online portals for now, but newspaper readership in Nepal is fast shrinking and is limited to major centres. Distribution is a major hurdle — 59% of respondents said they did not read newspapers and magazine because they were not available in their area.  With alternative methods to access news, publication houses lamenting the decline of traditional print media might want to invest in better online and multimedia content to hold the interest of readers whose attention span is declining by the day. This is further proven by the fact that Nepalis are ambivalent about the content of all forms of mass media.  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/face-to-face-with-facebook/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Face-to-face with Facebook</a>, Nepali Times<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-are-drifting-to-digital-media/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepalis are drifting to digital media</a>, Madhu Acharya and Bhumiraj Chapagain The good news is that Nepali media is generally reliable. Among the respondents who regularly accessed tv, radio and newspapers, most trusted the content. And although most get their information on the Net, very few trust it.   Notable points:<ul><li>The 16-24 age group and those with Bachelors degrees are the heaviest consumers of all types of media</li><li>Newars have the highest access to all media except radio, whereas Tarai Dalits have the least access</li><li>Women lag behind in access to all media</li><li>As expected, media saturation is highest in Province 3 while mobile is least accessed in Province 5.</li></ul>Nepal Media Survey 2019 National Survey on Nepali Media Landscape Sharecast Initiative Nepal Rs1,000 (Institutional)Rs500 (Individual)Pages: 50Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-nepals-media-landscape-is-being-transformed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s changing media landscape</a>, Sharecast Initiative

Sonia Awale

Nepal’s new digital landscape

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a56bf9c7e80680e0547a1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1271"/><figcaption>Illustration: BHANU BHATTARAI</figcaption></figure>Agroup of young overseas Nepalis based in the UK wanted to invest in cloud computing in Nepal. They were already doing work for Amazon, Microsoft and Alibaba and were attracted by Nepal’s lower labour cost, as well as the availability of professional software engineers.It took one year for them to just register the company. In that same time, a company they set up in Bangladesh was not only registered, but had already started its work. In Nepal, they were given the runaround, sent from one ministry to another, and spent a year explaining what cloud computing was.After much to-ing and fro-ing the company was finally registered, and once fully operational it will employ 500 young Nepali IT engineers and spend more than $100,000 a month here.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-youd-like-to-do-business-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">So you'd like to do business in Nepal?</a>, Ritu Pradhan Malla<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/outdated-laws-limited-ecommerce-hold-back-tech-industry%20,3547" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu's Silicon Alley and the Law</a>, Sonia Awale“Not only does Nepal not even have rules about cloud computing, people in government have no idea what it is. If this goes on, no foreign investors are going to come here to invest in information technology,” said an investor involved in the project.According to the National Planning Commission, Nepal needs Rs20.25 trillion worth of investment to reach the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals in 10 years. While most of these investments will have to be in infrastructure and transportation, the country needs to make it easier for foreign investors to bring in new technology and resources so Nepal can leapfrog into the IT age.However, as our example shows, Nepal does not seem to be technically and mentally prepared for IT investors. Talk earlier this year about the need to register social media platforms before they can operate here shows how regressive the government’s mentality is.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Invest in investment</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-nepalis-are-not-impressed/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Overseas Nepalis are not impressed</a>, Sewa BhattaraiNone of the multinational giants involved in IT do all their work at headquarters. They outsource it to parts of the world with lower costs and know-how, like Vietnam, Philippines, Indonesia, Cambodia or India. Those countries have given IT investors tax holidays, as well as streamlined repatriation of profits. The greatest potential for foreign investment in Nepal is in the IT sector — in third-party contracts for developing apps, web design and maintenance, animation, digital mapping, etc.Nepal has competitive labour costs, and the country produces 7,500 IT graduates a year. We have to cash in on this potential, which would provide jobs for youth who would otherwise emigrate to find work. But first, we need to streamline the bureaucracy and legal process, and update our investment laws.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-has-to-curb-corruption-before-wooing-investors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal has to curb corruption before wooing investors</a>, Ramesh Kumar<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/animated-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Animated in Nepal</a>, Sikuma Rai

Can Nepal invest in the cloud?

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a56a59c7e80680e054799jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2250" height="1500"/>There has been a dramatic shift in the way young Nepalis think and generate ideas to bring about social change. Some have built robots that can operate in Nepali and help the differently-abled to live comfortable lives. Others are tinkering with artificial intelligence to improve the quality of health care or education.Funding for these ideas is currently limited to prize money and support from family. Nepal needs more risk-taking, high return-seeking, incubation investors and a venture capital culture. This will require individuals who recognise that the ideas and the people who develop them are worth investing in, and are willing to take a calculated risk. They are people who know success will come with high returns.Parents still want their children to focus on academics, get a stable job that pays a regular salary at the end of each month and eventually have grandchildren who will provide social security. Buying land in Kathmandu and building a house with a few extra rooms to generate rent is the priority for many. But there are signs these social trends are changing.Many people may not be aware of the term ‘social entrepreneurship’ but are practising it in their careers. Young Nepalis are setting up recycling projects to help clean up the city, making garbage their business. Others are turning plastic waste into building materials for housing. Some are helping slum-dwelling children to stay in school.The problem with these ideas is finding sources of funding beyond the initial grant, and how to scale the impact in a country that is used to getting things for free. Motivated youth struggle with policy, laws, finance and technology transfer, and this is where mentors can help. Mahabir Pun’s National Innovation Centre could be one of the catalysts to help the community understand the value of these new ideas.Nepal is full of projects with lofty objectives that tend to do more of the same (and make more of the same mistakes). Donors comfortable with buzzwords like ‘capacity building’, ‘training stakeholders’ and ‘gender mainstreaming’ are a dime a dozen, but they are not interested in real world innovations.Plagiarism and downloading ideas from the web is a real challenge. In our part of the world ‘copyright’ means ‘copy without making any mistakes’. The moment you search for ideas around water, plastics and climate change, the internet will give you access to thousands of them. Adapting ideas to the Nepali context with due recognition to the original thinkers would be more useful. Replication and scaling up are what make these ideas succeed.We also still need bankruptcy laws that protect investors’ companies whose ideas may not take off. The R&amp;D research budget of a country is just as critical as the amount we spend on health, education and infrastructure.There are many online competitions calling for social entrepreneurship that may not reach many Nepalis currently without access to the Net. Young hard-working people living in harsh, remote terrain may be the best source of ideas to uplift the underserved. The country has missed many opportunities to attain prosperity — it is time we listened to those with ideas whose voices we ignored in the past.The winning idea at a recent competition came from a young woman who had designed software to help municipalities create new drainage systems. She needs our support. We have listened far too long to those who talked and did nothing — let’s now listen to young changemakers.Anil Chitrakar is President of Siddharthinc

Let’s listen to Nepal’s young changemakers

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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