This is the 90th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. The Musahar community lives in the Nepal Tarai and India, they have been historically excluded and are at the bottom of the economic and caste ladder. Many families still work as sharecroppers for landlords, but overseas migration is changing their lives as this conversation between Abhinash Sada and Lalit Majhi shows. Both were home for a vacation from work in Malaysia which coincided with the election. They are hopeful that the new RSP government will improve things.&nbsp; Abhinash: I was born into such poverty that we worried about the next meal. My family used to work near the river, mining sand and gravel. They were paid in rice. Sometimes we children went to the field to help with work, not for money but for the roti we got for lunch. I was eight when I was sent to school, and I still remember the first day. Lalit: We were classmates. Abhinash already knew how to recite the Nepali alphabet, but did not know how to read the letters. Meanwhile, I knew how to write s v u but did not know what those letters stood for. I just liked using a stick to scribble the alphabets in the sand while tending to the water buffalos. We finally learnt the alphabets properly in school. We used to skip school a lot but became interested after they offered sports like volleyball, and they also let us use a computer once every week. We started focusing on our studies, and Abinash used to stay at my my house so we could start studying together at 4AM because the teacher said our minds were freshest in the morning.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> </figure>  Abhinash: I used to sleep over at Lalit’s house so we could get up and study together early in the morning before school. We enjoyed studying so much we even asked the teacher for more homework. Sometimes, we used to skip class to do some work to earn some money so we could afford stationery or uniforms. Lalit ranked better than me in class.&nbsp; Lalit: My best memories of childhood was us swimming in the river after the rains when water levels were high. My mother thought we would get sick, but we did not listen. When we finally came home in the evenings, she would be fuming. My father worked in Punjab as a contractor and took fellow villagers there to work.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040432_0f8b3936c1edef4ff2e3682a66131278bf822022b1e8ae3aca1418e0fa232136.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260411040432_0f8b3936c1edef4ff2e3682a66131278bf822022b1e8ae3aca1418e0fa232136" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash with his family.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: My father went to Saudi Arabia to support the family. When he came home for a break, he enrolled me in a private school so my English would improve and private schools were also stricter. I was in Grade 5 in the government school, but the private school put me in kindergarten. It felt strange because everyone else was much younger. After three years, I rejoined Grade 6 in the government school but Lalit had already moved on to Grade 8. We no longer studied together. Lalit: I did not pass my SLC. Instead of retaking the exam, I went to Chennai and got a dishwashing job although I was promised waiter. I came back after a month and started getting my paperwork done for Qatar. I borrowed Rs100,000 from a villager at 36% interest. Even so, in three years there I helped my family repay loans and bail out my eldest brother who had been cheated in Malaysia. All my savings in Qatar and what my middle brother earned in Malaysia went to rescue our oldest brother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_716000dceca4fbf31b9364fa712e30cbdca83783d59c8e10b47f6ae3e39b8825.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260411040436_716000dceca4fbf31b9364fa712e30cbdca83783d59c8e10b47f6ae3e39b8825" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Lalit with his mother.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: We Musahars can work hard. Our forebears worked from childhood tilling the fields of land owners whose children went to school. Saying no was not an option. Our fathers’ generation prioritised education because they did not want us to be trapped in servitude. I studied until Grade 12 but failed my exam. I worked in a sweet factory in Bangalore to support my parents. I returned after a year, and did odd jobs in a brick factory and sometimes as a day labourer with my father. I did not go abroad because I did not have money and people were not willing to lend to us. It was only when I got a free recruitment job in Malaysia that I decided to migrate.&nbsp; Lalit: I came back from Qatar, got married and remigrated to Malaysia with Abinash. It has been 2.5 years and we work in the same factory and share a dorm room just as we did as kids. With the money we earned, we have bought land back in our village. We are returning to Malaysia after our vacation here. My wife put mehendi in my palms, and told me that I should remember her whenever I see it. I also gave her a silver chain I was wearing as memento. My wife said the mehendi will last about a month and will fade away, that is the most difficult part of being overseas — but after a few weeks the working life takes over and we get occupied with duty.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260411040436_431dc4b60a1a49977f5fea69b19aaf66b172e3b606573dd9673aa32c9eb9e2b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1787" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash's family seeing him off in 2023.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_5a4faef596e76365fce3181fe8f3a215306755287cbe353c433e34758df0aaec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260411040436_5a4faef596e76365fce3181fe8f3a215306755287cbe353c433e34758df0aaec" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> <figcaption>Abhinash and Lalit getting welcomed by family after their return.</figcaption> </figure>  Abhinash: The election coincided with my vacation and I voted for the RSP in both ballots. They have already started building a road in our area, so there is hope. People in other parties were angry, but I told them my one vote would not have made a difference, they would have still lost. You can feel new energy in the village now, maybe things will change. We Musahars have always been discriminated against, even though our situation has improved. At least we do not have to worry about food anymore. It is not just my father who is the breadwinner. Now, I am also earning to support the family.&nbsp; Lalit: The whole point about migrating is to take care of my parents and make sure they are happy. They are my role models, and struggled all their lives for us. They invested in our studies so we would not have to live through what they did. They are happy that we are earning and supporting them. We bought land with the money saved in Malaysia. Now, as we go back, the next goal is to build a house. Then we will think about our future. When Abhinash and I were children, we thought we would be 7'nf] dfG5] one day. I looked up to my teacher and wanted to be like him. But now that I am grown up, I do not have anyone I look up to. I just make my goals and achieve them.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260411040436_83af55ced9108a0604495df2f808e497f6ecb73d1772c30af72cef94a4f21915.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260411040436_83af55ced9108a0604495df2f808e497f6ecb73d1772c30af72cef94a4f21915" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="DD 90"> </figure>  Abhinash: We have our whole lives ahead of us, and it is our turn to support our parents. What is the point of anything if our family is not happy? I do not want my parents to have to depend on others for money. We Musahars have been historically mistreated. We are known to be too trusting, and we do as we are told. We grew up believing that we were underdogs because of our caste. People still treat us as untouchable, although less than before. We were invited to parties but made to sit separately; at friends’ houses, we were asked to remain outside. We accepted all this because that is way it always was. Even when it made us feel bad. My younger brother stopped going to parties altogether because he did not like that discriminatory treatment. The new generation is not like that thankfully.&nbsp; Lalit: I once ran away from a feast because the Musahar invitees had to eat last. High caste or low caste, we all have the same red blood. The young ones thankfully are not like that. We were invited to a wedding recently during this vacation from Malaysia, and all of us young boys sat and ate together. But if the elders had been around they would have asked Abhinash and me to sit separately from the others.&nbsp;

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Here & Now

From Mahottari to Malaysia

Know your Ministers

It is only April, and Himalayan expeditions are already making rotations to acclimatise on Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, and will soon be making summit pushes.&nbsp; On Mt Everest, Icefall Doctors are fixing ropes and ladders into the Western Cwm as international climbers arrive at Base Camp. Spring 2026 is going to be the busiest and most crowded so far in the Nepal Himalaya. The main reason is that China has closed expeditions from the north side for eight-thousanders Everest and Cho Oyu, and also Xixapangma.&nbsp; The closure is informal, from what one can make out. The Chinese have not put out any official statement, but there are no permits either. The reason seemingly was the ‘Rising Dragon’ firework display last September by pyrotechnic artist Cai Guo-Qiang near Xigatse.&nbsp; Working with outdoor wear company Arc’teryx, Guo-Qiang set off an impressive sequence of orange and white fireworks that wound up a mountain. The spectacular display was criticised for damaging the fragile ecology of the Tibetan Plateau. But this cannot be the only reason the north side is closed. Experienced Everest blogger Alan Arnette anticipates that about 125 climbers will shift to the Nepal side of the mountains, and expects there to be up to 900 summits this spring — up from the highest spring number so far of 876 climbers on top in 2019.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260404050428_8c31812bf38f699c4faa74f25814a6ddaee397f71a629e549023f29250f05082.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260404050428_8c31812bf38f699c4faa74f25814a6ddaee397f71a629e549023f29250f05082" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="mountaineering"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TENZING</figcaption> </figure>  The early Base Camp arrivals are having problems with their first rotations because of heavy snow this season. Unlike previous springs, this year has seen back-to-back blizzards at high altitudes since February. The increased snow load on the slopes have increased avalanche danger right across the mountains.&nbsp; There has been an increase in numbers on Everest despite the West Asia war, flight disruptions, LPG shortage and new regulations. The permit fee has gone up for the first time since 2015 from $11,000 to $15,000 this year.&nbsp; The Tourism Bill passed by Nepal’s Upper House last year would have required climbers to have first summitted a 7,000m peak in Nepal before attempting Everest. However, the Department of Tourism has confirmed that there are no new experience requirements this season. Some want this rule changed to include 7,000m peaks anywhere in the world. That could be one reason people are rushing to climb Everest before the Nepal government changes its mind and enforces the new regulations on prior experience on Everest. “It’s probably going to encourage a lot of people that simply are not ready to go,” reckons Alan Arnette. “Once again, we may see a lot of inexperienced people on the mountain trying to get in before the rule comes into place, if it does.”&nbsp; Arnette has always been sceptical of Everest regulations, and points out many instances where rules have been announced but not implemented over the ten years that he has been tracking them. For example, a helicopter ban to Everest Base Camp was announced last year, but rescinded. A rule requiring climbers to bring down waste was never seriously enforced. Since there is so much money involved for the government and for the operators, any any rule that would reduce revenue is never fully implemented. This year there is another ‘High-Altitude Trash Quota’ rule requiring climbers and guides operating above Camp 2 to collect and bring down at least 2kg of waste from the higher camps.&nbsp; The Nepal government has tried to diversify peaks on offer by reducing the royalty on climbs, but the draw of Everest, Annapurna and other eight-thousanders seems to be too great. Even when the permit fees for some remote peaks like Kangri Shar, Himlung and Api, were reduced to $400, there are few takers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120436_a90cd44858e97086f773aa1fbd592b3434bb07d89cd4a1843b2ca32a84e7c72d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260402120436_a90cd44858e97086f773aa1fbd592b3434bb07d89cd4a1843b2ca32a84e7c72d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Photo Damien Francois"> <figcaption>Photo: DAMIEN FRANCOIS</figcaption> </figure>  TIME LAPSE Clients and expedition operators have been trying to shorten the time needed to complete an Everest expedition from the city of origin to the top and back. Since Nepal has no rules about spending a certain number of days in acclimatisation, this has allowed some expedition organisers to use new technology.&nbsp; Austrian operator Lukas Furtenbach last May led a group of four British ex-military clients to the summit within a week of leaving London. This climb was scrutinised because the group had practiced breathing xenon gas, a substance that increases the count of red blood cells and is banned in competitive sports. The climbers had also trained for months at home in hypoxic tents, and used supplemental oxygen during the actual climb.&nbsp; The success of that expedition prompted an investigation by Nepal’s Ministry of Culture, Tourism, and Civil Aviation, but there was nothing it could do because the team had taken the xenon in Germany two weeks before their trip. But even if they had administered the gas in Nepal, it would technically not be illegal. Furtenbach is firmly in favour of speed, and of using the gas. “The only reason why we are working with xenon is to make climbing safer, to protect climbers from high altitude sickness,” he says, arguing that the less time climbers spend on the mountains, the less their exposure is to disasters, sickness, and they also generate less trash.&nbsp; His firm, Furtenbach Adventure, offers a three-week Everest South Flash expedition, at a cost of €100,000, using custom oxygen systems. Other expeditions take up to two months.&nbsp; A young American duo of Ryan Mitchell and Justin Sockett got to Everest Base Camp five days ago. They are preparing for an oxygen-free summit attempt.&nbsp; ‘ Being around these mountains for one day has already brought me so much joy. Every time I come back to the Khumbu I feel more familiar and connected,’ posted Mitchell. He and Sockett have since summitted Lobuche East (6,119m) as they continue to acclimatise and wait for the Khumbu Icefall route to be fixed.&nbsp; There are other sans-O2 trips planned this climbing season in Nepal. Norwegian Kristin Harila, the fastest in the world to climb all 14 8,000ers (in 92 days), is attempting the Nuptse, Lhotse, and Everest three-peak climb without supplemental oxygen. American Tyler Andrews and Ecuadorian Karl Egloff are continuing their race to break records in Everest. While Andrews is attempting the Fastest Known Time from Base Camp to the top without oxygen, Egloff is taking it a step further and going for a round trip: from Base Camp to the summit and back in record time.&nbsp; Both Egloff and Andrews had attempted these climbs in 2025 spring, but abandoned around 7,000m due to bad weather.&nbsp; Kami Rita Sherpa wants to extend his all-time record of total Everest summits to 32, while Kenton Cool from England is chasing 20, a non-Nepali record.&nbsp; The first summits of the season will be in late April, or early May depending on weather. Besides Everest, there are a lot of interesting climbs on lesser known peaks.&nbsp; The Japanese trio of Masayuki Takenaka, Tatsuro Sugimoto, and Ryota Nomura, for example, are attempting the unclimbed Jarkya Himal (6,473m) near Manaslu. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Fake rescues</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120436_600c0176e24327fd3dfcfd634e4b871f3e5314aa00eb4885ad137ac6f9c4a3b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260402120436_600c0176e24327fd3dfcfd634e4b871f3e5314aa00eb4885ad137ac6f9c4a3b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="519" loading="lazy" alt="Fake rescues"> </figure>  This year’s spring climbing season has coincided with Nepal’s new government taking action against alleged perpetrators in fake rescues and insurance fraud. The Central Investigation Bureau (CIB) has already arrested more than a dozen trekking agency executives, hospital managers and helicopter company executives for medevac insurance fraud. Climbers are known to fabricate medical emergencies, get flown down from as high as Camp II on Everest, and then submit false insurance claims.&nbsp; Sometimes one flight is made to look like many using fake invoices. Trekking companies are also involved in fake rescues of hikers who just get tired of walking.&nbsp; Too many fake claims could lead to insurer’s losing confidence in the industry, and increased premiums, leading to delayed responses in real accidents.&nbsp; As a result of the scandal, there is now more scrutiny from the government about rescues. Already, helicopter operators have to wait for permission before carrying out rescues while their application is vetted.&nbsp; The worry is that this could cause unnecessary delays when time is of the essence in mountain rescue. Already, medevacs are delayed because of the bureaucracy needing permits to fly to sensitive regions bordering China. Last year, a climber died on Himlung because helicopter rescue took too long while operators ran from door to door in Kathmandu to obtain necessary permits. <h2>Mingma David Sherpa, MP</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_05c1600440327f4ae4bcae641b634714951f45702080a88d4e2628587190aa25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260402120432_05c1600440327f4ae4bcae641b634714951f45702080a88d4e2628587190aa25" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Mingma David Sherpa"> </figure>  Meet Mingma David Sherpa, Nepal’s first mountaineer to be nominated to Parliament. Sherpa is a self-made professional climber from Rolwaling, who rose up from an expedition porter to a record-breaking mountaineer and expedition organiser. As an insider, he is now in a position to streamline laws related to Nepal’s trekking and mountaineering sector. He is co-owner of EliteExped with Nims Purja, and in 2021 the two were part of a team of Nepali climbers to be the first to make it to the top of K2 in winter, the second highest mountain in the world in Pakistan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_c4ec586e7a27b09a72e61925a3897d843f864563d9e82a3fd3e25293e22cbe54.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260402120432_c4ec586e7a27b09a72e61925a3897d843f864563d9e82a3fd3e25293e22cbe54" data-rendition-name="original" width="2082" height="1396" loading="lazy" alt="Mingama David Sherpa"> </figure>  Mingma David was also on Purja’s Project Possible to climb all the 14 eight-thousanders in six months, shattering the previous record of seven years. He was featured in Purja’s documentary 14 Peaks: Nothing is Impossible.&nbsp; At age 30 he became the youngest climber to reach the top of all 14 eight-thousanders for which he was awarded the Piolet d’Or. Mingma David has taken part in dozens of successful rescues of fellow climber, including the highest ever long-line rescue on Dhaulagiri and saving the life of fellow-climber from 8,600m on Everest. <h2>April Fool</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_775afff27d4a2889a60730aa25bbc5f8eb8ea343528c8c031a6febbfd74814c4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260402120432_775afff27d4a2889a60730aa25bbc5f8eb8ea343528c8c031a6febbfd74814c4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="1820" loading="lazy" alt="Furtenback Adventures"> </figure>  The Austrian expedition outfitting company Furtenbach Adventures spoofed the anticipated crowds on an April First post on social media this week, showing ‘a fully galvanized, weather-resistant steel staircase, complete with a sturdy handrail’ to make the Hillary Step bottleneck on Mt Everest less dangerous.

Vishad Raj Onta

Nepal Himalaya Spring 2026

Nepal is known internationally for its successful community forestry programme, and the country has doubled its forest cover to over 45% in the last 25 years.&nbsp; But the opposite is true for densely populated urban centres like Kathmandu Valley which have turned into concrete jungles, with no remaining open spaces. Air pollution is increasing to hazardous levels, and the urban heat bubble means the temperature in the city is 2°C-3°C higher than in the outskirts. But there is a solution with a proven track record from similar densely populated cities in Japan — the ‘Miyawaki Method’ of growing local varieties of trees in any small patch of land in the city and turning them into compact forests. Named after Japanese botanist Akira Miyawaki in the early 1970s, carefully selected native trees and plants grow in tiny plots of land, or even in household backyards. They regenerate degraded urban soil, and help restore some greenery and biodiversity back to sterile city centres. The group Lily Leaves has planted Miyawaki forests in six sites across Kathmandu, and is on a mission to green all the river corridors in the Valley. So far, it has planted more than 17,000 trees belonging to nearly 40 species in patches of land along the Bishnumati and Swayambhu, and is eyeing the UN Park area along the Bagmati. “It is extremely important to connect with nature and greenery in cities,” says Lily Katuwal of Lily Leaves. "Besides restoring nature, these forests also clean air pollution and reduce summer temperatures.” Unlike traditional reforestation where trees of the same species are planted in bulk at a distance of 3-4m, Miyawaki prioritises native varieties best suited to Kathmandu Valley’s microclimate. The saplings are packed densely together, spaced only 60cm apart. After they start growing, native grass and undergrowth also thrive. The most recent plantation was along the banks of the Bagmati in Sanepa where, in addition to camphor and jacaranda which are grown in the area, native species such as kabro (Ficus lacor), kanike (Forget-me-not), parijat (Night-flowering Jasmine or Coral Jasmine), chanp (Plumeria), harro (Ink Nut) and barro (Bahera) were planted. A new site in Kirtipur is being readied for the next plantation. Miyawaki has been carried out elsewhere in various parts of Nepal, primarily in Dhanusha which has seen forest regrowth that has brought back insect, bird, reptile and amphibian life.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120428_e70c196852945760d082fc73ee18ea6883d13c16186893c00c10fd0a0ea12105.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260402120428_e70c196852945760d082fc73ee18ea6883d13c16186893c00c10fd0a0ea12105" data-rendition-name="original" width="1201" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Planting seeds for a greener Kathmandu"> </figure>  EMPOWERING WOMEN Lily Leaves employs just 17 women, six of whom have hearing disabilities. Many have been neglected or abandoned by their in-laws for various reasons. They have a livelihood and learn new skills so they can also find jobs elsewhere.&nbsp; “We trained them in plantation and other skills including tailoring, as well as jewelry, bag and reusable pad making,” says Katuwal. “They are now experts in planting trees.”&nbsp; Lily Leaves gets support from Pipal Tree International in the UK and Nepal, and hopes that the idea of compact urban forest spreads. This is especially important in areas like Taudaha, which is an important stopover for migratory birds. Once noted for its aquatic and avian biodiversity, Taudaha has become lined with concrete and has turned into a loud picnic spot. Urban expansion has encroached upon what used to be the floodplain of the Dhobi Khola, Bishnumati, Bagmati and Manohara rivers. The open spaces along the river corridors are being turned into green belts haphazardly. For many wards, the concept of green space is to have cement pavements and ornamental hard-to-maintain potted plants instead of allowing urban forests to grow back naturally. “Apartment buildings and housing colonies that are being constructed can include green spaces that can increase the real estate and rent value of property,” Katuwal says. “Engineers designing the buildings can suggest such changes so that we remain connected with nature.” Although Lily Leaves needs to have permission from local ward and municipal councils before implementing any program, it continues to face challenges in ensuring smooth coordination.&nbsp; In one such plantation along the Bishnumati River corridor, for example, a heavy earthmover uprooted young trees that were just beginning to thrive. Despite this setback, Katuwal’s team returned to replant them. The land mafia often covets the last remaining open spaces in Kathmandu, deploying local strongmen to try to take them over. &nbsp;They tear down fences, uproot saplings and loot tools. There is a lack of awareness about the importance of greening the city. But now that the former mayor of Kathmandu Balendra Shah is prime minister, national awareness could translate into more urban forests not just in Kathmandu but also in overcrowded urban centres across Nepal. Says Lily Katuwal: “We just plant the seed in people’s minds. Once people in the neighbourhood see that restoring nature lifts their quality of life and increases land prices, there is support. That is when the power of a good example spreads, and communities build on the idea.” &nbsp;

Planting seeds for a greener Kathmandu

Nepal got a radically new and young government this week, and among the many choices it has to make will be to decide on embracing bleeding edge technology like cryptocurrency and the blockchain. All crypto activities are currently banned by Nepal Rastra Bank (NRB), and violations can be punished by confiscation of bought goods, fines of three times more, and prison time.&nbsp; “This ban comes from ignorance, not strategy,” says blockchain expert Bijay Bogati, Head of Engineering at Mandarix IT services. “Nobody at the policy-making level in Nepal really understands the technology.” Bogati is also building the Himalayan Art Council’s art certification blockchain, which tracks and archives the transaction history of traditional Paubha paintings as non-fungible assets, ensuring the original artists are credited and paid if the artwork changes hands. &nbsp; This group of technology, often called Web3, is not a fringe movement anymore. Some governments recognise that digital assets have to be integrated into their economies, although there are also those who say it is a corrupt bubble.&nbsp; Donald Trump announced a strategic bitcoin reserve for the US government a year ago. El Salvador has adopted bitcoin as legal tender, and even has ATMs for conversion. France recognises it.&nbsp; Bhutan uses its surplus hydroelectricity to mine bitcoin at its Gedu data center and has used earnings to invest in its Gelephu Mindfulness City project, boost civilservant salaries, and curb the brain drain.&nbsp; In this month’s GenZ-inspired election, Nepal’s voters replaced the older generation of leaders with mostly millennials who are more fluent with new technologies.&nbsp; The tech sector has grown with the country exporting nearly $1 billion worth of software products last year. This is seen by some as the perfect timing to harness the technology in the national interest.&nbsp; NEPAL’S BAN Central banks and financial regulators are averse to switching to technology, and NRB fears crypto transactions could foster money laundering, terrorism financing, capital flight and tax evasion.&nbsp; Critics say this is hypocritical, like a pot calling the kettle black, because it ignores the fact that Nepal’s centralised financial regulator has itself not been able to control rampant corruption, money laundering and tax malpractice. The NRB justifies its ban by saying that people were getting scammed or were at risk of losing money when influenced to bet on digital assets. Others reject this reasoning, saying it dictates how people spend their money.&nbsp; A real concern for Nepal in recognising crypto would be in maintaining ties with bodies like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and other international creditors, just as the backlash some countries have faced.&nbsp; In Nepal, it is the cybercrime department of the Central Investigation Bureau that invigilates, and it has made a handful of arrests since 2017.&nbsp; But ambiguous laws and a lack of knowhow about the technology means enforcement has not been easy. Says Bogati: “Crypto persists in Nepal. The ban just pushes activity underground.”&nbsp; BHUTAN’S PLAN Bhutan started mining Bitcoin in 2019, when the price for one BTC was $5,000 -- it is now over $70,000. The logic was simple: the country had excess hydroelectricity which was used to power supercomputers to mine bitcoin.&nbsp; The energy was renewable and fit in with Bhutan’s sustainability commitments. The country’s cold climate meant less heat was required to cool the machines.&nbsp; It was state-owned entities doing the mining. Crypto was not something the average Bhutani used every day, and the country has accumulated over 13,000 BTC valued at up to $1.4 billion — 40% of its GDP. It has sold some BTC and used it to raise civil servant salaries and try to reverse youth outmigration.&nbsp; Nepal also has surplus clean energy, especially in the monsoon, and also has natural cooling in the mountains. It also needs money. Every terawatt-hour (TWh) of electricity is worth roughly $84.8 million in gross mining revenue at current bitcoin prices. Nepal’s current surplus of about 3TWh would translate into $254 million a year. Selling the same amount of electricity to India earns Nepal only $56 million a year. In the near term Nepal’s surplus hydropower is expected to reach 14TWh, generating about $1.2 billion a year — almost 3% of its GDP.&nbsp; Currently, Nepal does not have surplus power in winter, the hardware costs to set up the mining operation would be huge, and the value of bitcoin is volatile.&nbsp; Bhutan also made over 100 cryptocurrencies usable for tourists for flights, hotels, and restaurants. After adopting bitcoin as legal tender, tourism to El Salvador surged 22%. Nepal is already a major tourism destination, and adding crypto infrastructure would attract global high-income remote workers who deal in crypto.&nbsp; Experts say there is always the risk of putting all the eggs in the bitcoin basket. It is a speculative asset, and could crash, governments may suddenly outlaw it citing its heavy energy use. Breakthroughs in quantum computing might break its cryptographic basis.&nbsp; But in the 15 plus years it has been active, bitcoin has survived crashes and regulatory and technological attacks.&nbsp; Perhaps as important as the money is the message that Nepal would send out about being open to innovation and investment, providing its engineers jobs within Nepal, and signaling its tech ambitions. For a country so dependent on remittance, using crypto would also save about 4% on transaction fees, as is happening in the Philippines now. The estimated 5 million Nepalis overseas send home $11 billion a year, although the unofficial amount is said to be much higher.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026032803030_ff2106a8941d17e05d4defef183e05a226f03fe67b4b51507d134ad42971534a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026032803030_ff2106a8941d17e05d4defef183e05a226f03fe67b4b51507d134ad42971534a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1777" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Web3 Nepal"> <figcaption>Photo: YALE UNIVERSITY</figcaption> </figure>  All this could be points to ponder for the youth-led RSP when it forms a government this week. It is especially relevant in addressing the party’s main mandate of reducing graft, and could be sold to international creditors like the World Bank and the IMF as a good investment when most capital expenditure projects in Nepal face delays and quality issues because of corruption. One way would be to create a blockchain system for government projects. Funds would be withheld until work is completed, reducing cheating and delays.&nbsp; Any Nepali could poke around to see which firm is granted which project at what cost, and how much progress has been made would improve government efficiency and help reduce fraud. “Lots of Nepalis are actively in Web3/Blockchain development despite the ban. The talent exists,” says Bijay Bogati. “But developers are scared. People with real skills do not want to take the risk.”&nbsp; Raunak Raj Rauniyar leads Superteam Nepal, a global talent network of creators and developers in Web3. He organises regular hackathons and bounty hunts where the best projects can win cash prizes.&nbsp; In a recent college tour across Nepal, it introduced and connected communities to blockchain developers.&nbsp; “We found that there is talent across Nepal. In fact participants outside the Valley were much more engaged and hungrier than those in it, perhaps because they have fewer tech events overall,” says Rauniyar.&nbsp; “More women are involved, the ratio is about 70-30, up from perhaps 90-10 a few years ago.” The Janamat app built on the blockchain is a recent Superteam product that lets any Nepali with a citizenship to anonymously share opinions and vote. This could let the government quickly understand public sentiment of Nepalis home or abroad instantly and on a wide range of topics.&nbsp; During the 5 March election, a Janamat poll for Jhapa-5 showed that 87% thought Balendra Shah would win, which accurately predicted the actual result. Users on the app are now discussing and voting on who should be in the RSP Cabinet (see page 1).&nbsp; WHAT NEXT Nepal continues to be wary and circumspect of these emerging technologies, responding with outright bans that it can hardly even enforce, and maintain an illusion of control.&nbsp; The alternative would be to identify talent which exists, and adopt these technologies, regulate it effectively and reap the benefit. It could make it easier for people to spend and invest their money in Nepal, create jobs, and even slow the brain drain.&nbsp; The timing seems to be just right, as a new forward-looking government of technocrats assumes control. Nepal is set to have a 35-year-old prime minister, and a supermajority government that will hopefully be stable for the next five years. &nbsp;

Time for Nepal to enter Web3

This is the 89th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. Growing up in a remote village in Parbat disrict, we walked uphill 90 minutes to get to school. We were never on time for morning assembly. We had to cut grass, feed the livestock before school.&nbsp; My father served in the Indian Army and came home once a year. I preferred it when he was away because he was strict. Even his shadow scared me, and until I was 16, I could not even look him directly in the eyes.&nbsp; I now know that he had good intentions, and if I had followed his guidance, I would probably be in a much better position today. Despite my father’s discouragement, I prepared for Indian Army recruitment walking up at 3:30 to run and do workouts.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_14b41a7f5380221adf841ad58f73b905a86399817a4e3643ec8d7aca496aa1ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260323130328_14b41a7f5380221adf841ad58f73b905a86399817a4e3643ec8d7aca496aa1ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="1285" height="831" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  I failed thrice despite making it to the final round. I accepted my fate, it was not meant to be. Like everyone else, I sought my fortune in the Gulf. I paid a recruiter Rs40,000 and headed to Qatar to work in a garment factory. The heat there terrified me. My salary was not what the agent had promised, but since I was &nbsp;already there I decided to work hard. My managers took notice and promoted me to supervisor. It came with its perks: a higher salary, a brown shirt that commanded more respect, fewer number of people in our room, and basmati rice.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_dad6c1d476e08e0f79072612fb6b9dfefd7fa9ccd3bfc368474e65196db49858.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260323130328_dad6c1d476e08e0f79072612fb6b9dfefd7fa9ccd3bfc368474e65196db49858" data-rendition-name="original" width="1360" height="913" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  I was promoted again to an assistant timekeeper, keeping track of the shifts and overtime of 600 workers. I also learnt to use a computer with the help of a friend from Kolkata.&nbsp; Rising up through the ranks made me understand what other workers were going through, and I treated them with empathy and respect. This made me quite popular in the company.After three years in Qatar, the company shut down. I returned to Nepal but saw an ad in the papers asking for security guards. Two Americans interviewed me, and I gave them my best salute. They did not ask me much, and said they wanted to see me in Kuwait the following week. My father somehow managed to collect Rs60,000 for the job.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_dbec508694937ea6c9e19fa7dc00fc23b742abc4b985e7490bf4d2f53fc21cbc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260323130328_dbec508694937ea6c9e19fa7dc00fc23b742abc4b985e7490bf4d2f53fc21cbc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  It was tough at first. We did not have food or mattresses. Later, news reached the main client that our contractor was not providing us good facilities so they intervened and things started improving. I soon got promoted to the post of a site supervisor. A group of us were smart and disciplined, the kind of security guards our contractor proudly showed to potential clients as ‘Gurkha’ guards. This helped them gain new business and opened opportunities for more Nepalis to be recruited. People there called me ‘Tyson’ because I was hot headed. I never started fights, but if someone came at me, I did not back down. I was dismissed twice for hitting an Egyptian after he struck me first, and a Bangladeshi who grabbed my throat when I told him not to park in a restricted area.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_e681354e16121cffecc7bb909d5b5ef5ded910e39202599a54441604b411b13c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260323130328_e681354e16121cffecc7bb909d5b5ef5ded910e39202599a54441604b411b13c" data-rendition-name="original" width="896" height="1030" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  In both cases, the management was forced to reverse the dismissal. First because nearly 150 Nepalis protested the decision to fire me, and second because American managers from the client intervened and instead promoted me to patrolling supervisor. I married young at 17, and by 19 I already had two children. For me, they were my biggest priority. While working at the American base camp in Kuwait, I often saw VIPs and wondered why I had not studied harder so I could be more than a security guard. People in suits with neatly combed hair, and the cars they stepped out of were impressive. I wanted my children to have such positions. I invested heavily in their studies.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_65f6ab934b90aab26fdeee2b24338f0bad6eef4f1e2c6d82ad5145814273b496.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260323130328_65f6ab934b90aab26fdeee2b24338f0bad6eef4f1e2c6d82ad5145814273b496" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="479" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  After six years, I returned to Nepal and applied for a seafarer position in the United States. The screening process was intense. I passed the first interview, after which we had two months of training focused on physical preparation, language, and preparation for the final interview.&nbsp; Going to America was the dream, so I took the preparation very seriously. I practice English with my niece and nephew and often studied throughout the night. The questions I had prepared for were mostly about security work. But when Philip, an Australian, came to interview us, he asked random questions such as my favourite Western food and why I wanted to work on a ship.&nbsp; I still remember him asking whether the tie I was wearing belonged to me. I explained that I borrowed it from the guy who interviewed before me, which he had noticed. My honest reply made him smile. That night I could not sleep a wink in anticipation. 10AM. No call. 11AM. No call. At 3PM, I got too anxious so I called the office. They said I did not get the job. Disappointed, I packed my bags to return to my village. Just as I left my in laws’ house they got a call informing me that the recruiter was joking and I had in fact gotten the job. I was so happy I cried.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_9e212dbf6bacc277196ea5ed83217d9bce922ebee3fde3254345b04929c5948b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260323130328_9e212dbf6bacc277196ea5ed83217d9bce922ebee3fde3254345b04929c5948b" data-rendition-name="original" width="896" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  Going to the USA was exciting. People in my village did not believe me. For someone who used to get off in Doha, this time I was in transit. After Doha, the passengers were different and wealthier. Their standards seemed higher, and the food provided was different. I felt out of place on that leg of the flight. My new job was on a cruise ship. Our room, shared by two, was below water level and had no windows. Sometimes the waves hitting the ship were so loud that they kept us awake. Back then, there was no wifi, and we typed long messages to post when we got free wifi when we docked at a port.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_2e3a94fa27963867a89814da259b7b9d203ee62561841170b1b2a7bbb79f991c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260323130328_2e3a94fa27963867a89814da259b7b9d203ee62561841170b1b2a7bbb79f991c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  I sold the land I bought in Pokhara with my Kuwait earnings and purchased land in Lalitpur with my maritime earnings. I also bought a house in Pokhara where my mother and brother live. As I was managing loans and major expenses like my children’s education, my younger brother, who had gone to Qatar as a security guard, fell sick with kidney failure.&nbsp; He received a transplant as our mother was a match, but even after the operation the medical costs remained extremely high. I took care of his family and the &nbsp;bills. Because the problem was long term, I encouraged my sister in law to apply for a job like mine. She failed the first interview, so I had her enroll in English language courses.&nbsp; She passed the second time and has been working on another ship since 2016. This has helped my brother’s family immensely. Then, there was Covid and I was stuck in Nepal. The next job was on the humanitarian Mercy Ship, that offered free medical treatment to poorest people around the world. Right now we are stationed in Sierra Leone and will go on to Ghana.&nbsp; The medical personnel volunteer their time to serve, and the patients receiving treatment are also grateful because they are given a second life. I can see it in their faces when they leave the ship post surgery or treatment. I have now built a house in Lalitpur. My son is studying in Japan and my daughter is in public health. My journey has helped those around me.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260323130328_bfa7ba1c52186e1f610767b817a710a58c75e93a90e7db9907a6d41fd3c2252a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260323130328_bfa7ba1c52186e1f610767b817a710a58c75e93a90e7db9907a6d41fd3c2252a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="DD 89"> </figure>  My father unexpectedly passed when I was away. Baba was the pillar of my house. Without him, everything has fallen apart. All responsibilities fall on my shoulder. He had an orange orchard with 700 trees and used to sell the fruits in Kalimati, but now we have leased it. I am not sure when I will come back to Nepal. &nbsp;The work is easy because we just have to work six hours a day and four days a week. I get to come home for three months every six months on paid leave to be with my family.&nbsp; I am very lucky that way. I see other Nepalis staying 17-18 years until they cross their 60s. Even when they leave, they pass the baton to their sons who take their positions. I think I will also stay on this job as long as my health allows me.

From desert to sea

Deadly floods two years ago along the southern fringes of Kathmandu Valley killed 200 people. Climate change was blamed, but the destruction was magnified by quarries and sand mining owned by local politicians and crony contractors. Disaster mitigation and environmental risk was not a priority for any of the political parties that ran and won Nepal’s election last week. Although the RSP has a supermajority, rural municipalities that grant mining contracts are still ruled by the established parties that supply aggregates and sand to feed &nbsp;Kathmandu’s construction boom. Here in Lele Valley, residents are worried about another monsoon season that will start in June and fear more floods bringing unmanaged gravel from quarries down the Nallu River.&nbsp; The house of Sanumaya Nagarkoti, 65, and ten neighbours were washed away by the flood on the night of 28 September 2024. She and her husband petitioned the ward and municipal council to remove the crushers but no one listened. The slopes above are scarred by landslides from two years ago, and the banks of the river are strewn with bounders the size of cars that were brought down. “We live in constant fear of landslides,” says Chakra Nagarkoti, “the heavy crusher machinery and tipper trucks also constantly shake the house.”&nbsp; Google Earth images show that 24.6 hectares of mountain flanks have been excavated since 2010, and despite the disaster no lessons have been learnt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090348_bdce7f17500eadac0ce0814c32c2b4190d01325976fd4d29db9985148459c0bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260319090348_bdce7f17500eadac0ce0814c32c2b4190d01325976fd4d29db9985148459c0bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="907" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>Photo: GOOGLE EARTH</figcaption> </figure>  The RSP might have got a near two-thirds majority in Parliament but decision-making at the community level is controlled by politicians in cahoots with contractors.&nbsp; Along the Mahadev Khola, the Department of Mines cancelled excavation permits for crushers citing flood and landslide risk. Yet there are still 21 contractors mining stones and sand.&nbsp; Nearby Godavari Municipality also instructed operators who had not renewed permits to close down. No action was taken. One of them is Vinayak Multipurpose which delivers aggregate and stones for United Cement. Local ward chair Milan Silwal, has a stake in Vinayak and locals accuse him of taking the side of industry.&nbsp; Another slope is being gouged out near Mahadev Khola, and comparing satellite imagery from 2010 shows that the scar on the mountain is now five times bigger.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090348_21a8f7f7f9d6cc784c35719da737b20283f934bbe16c9de971d91bf01012499a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260319090348_21a8f7f7f9d6cc784c35719da737b20283f934bbe16c9de971d91bf01012499a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>United Cement operating near Mahadev Khola. Photo: ARCHANA DARJI</figcaption> </figure>  Nearby stands the lone house of 55-year-old Sabina Tamang, who lives with her husband and daughter. Due to the sound of the stone-breakers, they cannot hear each other speak. “Last year, a landslide destroyed our cowshed and latrine,” she says. “Next it is going to be our home.”&nbsp; DRY SPRINGS Lele gets its water from several perennial springs which have gone dry in recent years. One of them is near where the cement factory quarries limestone. “We hardly get any water, and the little that does flow is murky and red,” says local resident Rajesh Shrestha. A parliamentary committee directive ordered excavation to stop 15 years ago after a similar flood to the one in 2024.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090352_af7da754299116578cc1dd91d5318ec337b69e74b0676599260b7c57c6ec6fd7.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260319090352_af7da754299116578cc1dd91d5318ec337b69e74b0676599260b7c57c6ec6fd7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="494" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>Lele over the years. Photo: GOOGLE EARTH</figcaption> </figure>  United Cement’s manager Hari Upreti says his company has fulfilled all requirements and has permission to mine 15 hectares of its own property and 4 hectares of government land. “We have the Department of Mines permit which is valid till 2036 and extract 1,600 tons of limestone every day,” says Upreti. “The local community knew about the mining and if there is a problem with springs going dry it is not because of us.” Environmental researcher Uttambabu Shrestha, however, says there is a direct correlation between the quarry operation and floods, landslides and dry springs.&nbsp; “Extraction should not be allowed without an environmental impact assessment, and companies must stick to set limits,” he says. Investigation of permits show that there is collusion between local officials and contractors. Godavari-6 Chair Bishnuman Maharjan has investment in two quarries and crusher companies operating along Nallu Khola. A paper trail links Maharjan also to Sagarmatha Stone Crusher and Mankamana Aggregate Industries. IMPUNITY&nbsp; Godavari Municipality published a notice in June 2024, instructing crusher companies to submit environmental reports within two weeks, covering initial examination and impact assessment. It also told them to pay local development fees and clear outstanding dues. The municipality even wrote to the Department of Mines clarifying that it had issued permits to only five out of 27 contractors. Within a month, the Department wrote to the District Administration Office (DAO) and District Police Office instructing them to stop illegal excavation, and sent a copy to the Lalitpur Division Forest Office. The DAO then wrote to Lalitpur Police naming Machindranath Multipurpose as operating illegally and should be shut down. There was no followup. The municipality then issued fines worth Rs 60 million to it and one other company for non-compliance. The companies stalled, disputing the calculations.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090356_6e96403d3c5be4aef4d030974d6d92029a0eb396deafd19c511978dae30dd3d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260319090356_6e96403d3c5be4aef4d030974d6d92029a0eb396deafd19c511978dae30dd3d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="2250" loading="lazy" alt="Lele"> <figcaption>Another site of extraction near Mahadev Khola in Godavari. </figcaption> </figure>  Machhindranath Multipurpose operator Kedar Timalsina Shashi denies doing anything wrong, and says the landslides were collateral damage because of the steep terrain. When contacted Godavari Municipality Deputy Mayor Muna Adhikari declined to comment. It has been 10 years since Rajesh Shrestha, Nikesh Shrestha, and others raised their voices against the environmental destruction caused by the construction mafia. An agreement was finally reached two years ago between locals and mining and transport businessmen, stipulating that stone mines must close permanently by mid-2025. The agreement also stated that check dams must be built to manage mining debris, and damaged structures must be restored to their original state. Trees were to be planted at sites where stone mines had operated. But the mines in the catchment are still in operation with 500 tipper trucks working on the site every day, transporting stones and aggregate. Local youth have continued holding sit-in street protests and at Lalitpur DAO.&nbsp; After one sit-in, the mines closed for about a month but they started back up a month later.&nbsp; Birendra Maharjan owns one of the crusher units, and says he follows all environmental protocols. He told us: “You need stones to build, and we must dig to extract stones. Some trees have to be cut, people get employment, and besides, floods and landslides happen across Nepal.” &nbsp;&nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism – Nepal.

Loot in Lele

As war escalates across West Asia, Nepali workers navigate fear, uncertainty and the pressure to keep earning, while back home a new government readies to take charge. &nbsp;&nbsp; Khagendra Basnet, 42, has spent seven years as a security guard here. He sits silently during a long night shift as his mobile phone screeches alerts. Explosions follow as Iranian missiles and drones are intercepted overhead.&nbsp; Three weeks into the war, residents in Qatar have gone from fear to resignation, some even returning to dinners at the Pearl and Souq Waqif under flashes of missiles in the sky.&nbsp; Basnet’s company contracted him to US-affiliated institutions and he works near the American Embassy. He is apprehensive, “I panic from time to time as there is no saying when it is safe.” Qatar’s location and its US air base at Al Udeid puts it at risk of Iranian missile attacks. The base was struck on the very first day of the war on 28 February. Oil and gas installations in Iran and across the Gulf were targetted this week.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090332_e3b4c07574b9680a40263d0a005bd08a2864a4c49747762203fd92d01cdf799a.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260319090332_e3b4c07574b9680a40263d0a005bd08a2864a4c49747762203fd92d01cdf799a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1036" height="582" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Doha during war"> </figure>  While no deaths have been reported in Qatar so far, there is fear among Nepalis in the Gulf states, as well as in Israel itself where there are 7,000 caregivers and nurses.&nbsp; Three South Asian migrant workers were killed by debris from intercepted Iranian drones above Abu Dhabi on 28 February. Among them was 29-year-old Diwas Shrestha from Gorkha, who had been working as a security guard. “Hearing that news made my heart ache,” says Basnet. “What if my family has to bear a similar tragedy without saying goodbye, and hearing from news sources?” Basnet came to Qatar to save enough to support his family. His company had promised him a plane ticket home in April, but Doha airport is only partially open for limited routes. He says, “My family is really worried. I assure them that it’s all ok, just to lessen their fear.” Basnet’s thoughts are about the political change back home in Nepal. He blames the decades of corrupt governments for not creating opportunities for people like him in Nepal, and forcing him to work in a war zone. The Foreign Ministry issued an advisory to the nearly 2 million Nepalis in Israel, Iran and other West Asian countries telling them to follow local security instructions.&nbsp; “We have formed an Emergency Response Team with different departments in light of the ongoing conflict in West Asia. We are closely monitoring the situation through our 24/7-operating control rooms, our embassies and advisories in the region, and online information forms,” says Lok Bahadur Poudel Chettri of the Foreign Ministry in Kathmandu. More than 65,000 Nepali citizens have registered in the ministry's online system, among whom roughly 6,000 requested emergency assistance.&nbsp; Foreign Minister Balananda Sharma has said Nepal would “use both air and sea routes” if the number of people requiring assistance increases.&nbsp; However, the department sees no immediate need for mass-evacuation from the region.&nbsp; But for many workers here, the issue is not only whether they are officially asked to leave. It is whether they can afford to.&nbsp; On 14 March MoFA advised Nepalis in Qatar to secure Saudi tourist visas in advance so they could use the Salwa border route and fly out to Nepal.&nbsp; Other governments evacuated their nationals through overland transfers, charter flights, and consular assistance routed via Saudi Arabia or Oman.&nbsp; The Indian Embassy in Qatar facilitated departures through limited Qatar Airways flights and through Saudi Arabia, including temporary 96-hour Saudi transit visas for its Indian nationals.&nbsp; “I checked the available options and it will cost at least 4,000 riyals (Rs157,000) to fly to Nepal via Saudi Arabia, and most flights are already booked,” says Basnet, whose salary is only 1,800 riyal a month. NEW NORMAL For most migrant workers in Qatar, fear has become routine. Arun Thapa, 31, works at a food delivery company here, and was in his room scrolling through TikTok when he first saw videos and updates about war breaking out 28 February.&nbsp; Before he could fully process what was happening, emergency alerts began ringing on his phone, followed by explosions in the sky.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260319090332_4eeb6f20a1006baa2eaaa8461759a99a8c257099725c7bc3acf1b4b21a893603.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260319090332_4eeb6f20a1006baa2eaaa8461759a99a8c257099725c7bc3acf1b4b21a893603" data-rendition-name="original" width="1096" height="319" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Doha during war"> <figcaption>Snoonu, a Qatar-based food delivery app, message to its customers on the initial days of the conflict</figcaption> </figure>  For Thapa this was less scary than the Israeli air strike in Doha last September targetting the Hamas leadership. He was delivering food when he heard the bombs go off at that time.&nbsp; “That day, I was really frightened. It was my first time seeing this,” recalls Thapa. “That is not to say I am not scared now, of course, I am,” he says. “I try not to overthink, and get on with my job.” Thapa came to Qatar 10 years ago after being first rejected for medical reasons. He first worked in Bangalore as a waiter, and connections he built there helped him secure a job in a supermarket in Qatar. Unlike many migrants he did not have to pay an exorbitant amount to recruiters. Still, he was promised a salary of 2,500 riyals a month, which was the main reason he agreed to come, but found out he would earn only half that.&nbsp; His job is risky even without war: riders spend long hours on the road, exposed to traffic, heat and now the possibility of falling missile debris. But he came here to earn and save, and this means he has to overcome his fear. Thapa wants to stay on for another two years because he still has loans after buying land for his family. “It has become a habit. If I hear an alert, I park my bike to watch the fireworks, and get back to delivering,” he says. “People are not as scared as they were at first. Despite everything, Qatar feels safe.”&nbsp; But if the war escalates, Thapa does not expect much from his company beyond the annual return ticket, he will have to fend for himself. He is somewhat more optimistic about the Nepal Embassy helping than before.&nbsp; Even though Nepal is a neutral country, its citizens are now scattered across the globe — many of them in war zones like West Asia. Ten Nepalis were killed in the Hamas attack on Israel in 2023, at the Canadian Embassy in Kabul in 2014, and the dozen Nepalis were killed in Iraq in 2004. At least 1,000 Nepalis are fighting in the Russian Army against Ukraine, and 110 have been killed. Economic desperation and tempting offers by recruiters pushes many to risk their lives just to support their families. “Labour and migration must be diversified and not be entirely dependent on Gulf countries,” says Pitambar Ghimire at the Ministry of Labour, Employment and Social Security in Kathmandu. “We must ensure safe and dignified migration in our labour diplomacy.” With the change of government in Nepal, there is hope among migrants that in the long term there will be better job opportunities, but there is the immediate risk posed by the West Asia war.&nbsp; Nepal needs to move beyond lip service to migrant workers for supporting the country with their remittances, to ensuring their safety and security.&nbsp; Khagendra Basnet stares out at the glittering Doha skyline, gives a worrying glance at the sky, saying,“I hope I can still live safely and be here to work and earn. If not, I will have to find a way back.”&nbsp; Some names have been changed to protect their identity.

Migrant workers in wartime

- High Court employee Amrita KC fulfilled her duties as a polling officer in Nepalganj on election day, with her six-month-old daughter held in her arms.&nbsp; - The same morning in Kathmandu-1, RSP candidate Ranju Neupane appeared at the polling station to cast her vote with her 10-day-old baby. The next day, she became the first candidate declared a winner by the Election Commission. Her party won a supermajority and will now be tasked with reforms in governance, development, the economy, and service delivery. At least four of the winning RSP candidates are doctors, and the party must fulfil its campaign promise of improving healthcare access across Nepal. Among the lowest-ranking region for healthcare indicators in Nepal is Madhes Province. Across the districts of Madhes and Karnali, where maternal and neonatal health outcomes remain poorer than in the rest of the nation, local governments in collaboration with non-profits, have financed and facilitated the operation of birthing centres where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-haemorrhaging-nurses">nurses are lifelines</a> for pregnant women, new mothers, and newborn babies.&nbsp; At the Inarwari birthing centre in Rautahat district, nurse midwife Manisha Kushwaha gently applies ultrasound gel on the abdomen of 28-year-old Robina Khatun who is having a sonogram in the first trimester.&nbsp; Kushwaha glides the transducer over Khatun’s belly before pronouncing her baby healthy. She will later send the ultrasound machine for the municipality’s monthly mobile sonogram program in a neighbouring village.&nbsp; Ministry of Health and Population guidelines recommend that pregnant people make eight antenatal care (ANC) visits to health posts before their delivery date. Expecting mothers are also provided Rs800 for the eight visits and travel costs according to geographical region. In Baudhimai, the local government provides more incentives: 10 eggs for non-vegetarian and protein powder for vegetarian mothers-to-be per visit. The municipality also provides free ambulance service for pregnant women, and conducts a monthly mobile sonogram program across all communities.&nbsp; The initiatives of local governments, health officials, non-profits, and volunteers have meant that institutional deliveries here have increased drastically. In Rautahat, institutional deliveries have increased from 50% to 68% in four years, according to figures from the non-profit One Heart Worldwide that works to improve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-lagging-in-safe-motherhood">maternal and neonatal health</a> outcomes arcoss Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260314020352_a3f66142aa6a0333b78d82cd5520b1818633a580885232c10625572e014b1b15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1034" height="650" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  “Home deliveries have completely stopped in Inarwari, and women are increasingly accessing ante-natal and post-natal care, as well as family planning measures,” says Manisha Kushwaha. “Women and families here are now more aware of maternal and neonatal healthcare.” One of them is Noor Jahan Khatun, who had her first baby at home and gave birth to her second child at the local birthing centre despite wanting another home birth. When the due date for her third child came around, she walked to the health post herself.&nbsp; “I realised it is much better to give birth at the hospital,” Noor, who is pregnant with her fourth child, told us. “They have everything we need in case of complications.” The nursing staff at the birthing centre, as well as other centres in the municipality also periodically review their training in the birthing simulation room set up on the premises of the Inarwari birthing centre so that they retain their training and continue to hone their skills. Over in Sarlahi’s Sundarpur in Chakraghatta Rural Municipality, a state-of-the-art birthing centre now stands adjacent to the derelict old structure from which nurses previously had to provide services.&nbsp; The new and improved maternity ward was built last year with Rs2.4 million from the municipality and a Rs2 million from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/what-can-be-more-fulfilling-than-saving-lives">One Heart Worldwide</a> under a cost-sharing public-private partnership formula.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260312120328_4e7f71b535541d56d267baa6f2656faf008b7e98cc16da0042253f4c0db3eeb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Sundarpur birthing centre in Sarlahi built through the collaboration of the local government and One Heart Worldwide.</figcaption> </figure>  Chief nurse Sunita Rai has been stationed here for the last six years, and looks at the old building. “I remember when we had to deliver babies while ankle-deep in flood water during monsoon,” recalls Rai. “This new facility and the equipment have improved service.”&nbsp; Since the start of the fiscal year, the six-nurse team at Sundarpur has delivered more than 140 babies. One day last month, a national holiday, the centre was quieter than usual, with just two women waiting for delivery.&nbsp; But fewer-than-usual patients does not mean there is no work to be done. In the afternoon, nurses make the rounds of the community to conduct post-natal care visits, and to keep track of how the new mothers and babies in the village are doing. This is important because neonatal mortality of babies within the first month of birth is still high. “For the people in this village we are both the doctor and the nurse,” Rai says matter-of-factly as she walks towards the village to see a new mother.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260314020352_24b9e04295150a8a64ff56f457e3faebd84eaa22a3e3521499ac17c23ec48027" data-rendition-name="original" width="790" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  In Sarlahi's Laxmipur Kodraha, Kanchan Rai makes her own rounds, calling out to several young children playing in the pale afternoon sun. Rai has been stationed in Laxmipur for 10 years and delivered most of those children playing outside herself. A beloved member of the community, Rai is greeted by several women and invited in for tea and snacks as she walks by. The Laxmipur birthing centre has seen major renovations to make it more spacious, better equipped, and hygienic. Mothers now have more privacy, especially from men who in the past would simply barge in wanting to know which woman from the village was about to give birth.&nbsp; “We deliver 400 babies on average every year,” Rai says. “There have been zero home births in this village for the last five years, and women are increasingly accessing maternal healthcare and family planning services.” Institutional deliveries in Sarlahi have gone up from 37% to 71% over the past five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260314020348_983e3b652b38cee4a1d977742e0211dd85c1ab8085f961876dde1ada78c7c2ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="359" height="329" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Pregnant women who require C-sections, or those who experience complications during pregnancies, are referred to the nearest provincial hospitals in Gaur or Malangwa. “Community-based awareness programs about going for hospital visits have helped reduce home deliveries, and counselling sessions provided to new mothers at provincial hospitals have contributed to better maternal and neonatal health outcomes,” says Sachin Yadav, obstetrician-gynaecologist at Malangwa Provincial Hospital. SAFE MOTHERHOOD Newborns with birth asphyxia, tachycardia, meconium aspiration syndrome and other complications are admitted to the special newborn care unit at the Gaur Provincial Hospital. But Apsana Khatun, chief nurse at the hospital’s maternal and neonatal unit says: “We have not been able to provide neo-natal care as effectively because we do not have an NICU.”&nbsp; Provincial hospitals provide life-saving services, but remain underfunded and in need of life-saving equipment. At the Gaur Hospital, Rukmini Kumari Shah gently rocks her three-day-old son, who was admitted to the special newborn care unit due to birth asphyxia and dehydration.&nbsp; “I have not even been able to think of a name for him,” says the 25-year-old. “My other two children were born normal but I worry for this one.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260312120328_2736dbc7660fdb60d928df22b387d084a244607126567e5cbf37235177d1ac3c" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> <figcaption>Gaur Provincial Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  This is where the election pledge of the RSP will be tested. Will the new government cut through the bureaucracy, corruption and resource constraints to provide life-saving services to mothers and babies in places like Rautahat and Sarlahi? There has been no maternal mortality at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital for the last two years, but the hospital has had neonatal deaths. “We need more spacious waiting areas and training for maternal and neonatal healthcare workers,” says Sachin Yadav. “Without that we are unable to serve our patients and have to send them to Kathmandu or Birganj.” In Baudhimai village, patient numbers have increased by 140% in the last three years, but the federal government slashed the health budget by 60%. The government across three levels is supposed to provide 98 types of essential medicine free of cost at primary healthcare centres, but the federal and provincial governments often fail to make their share of the drugs available.&nbsp; “Federal and especially provincial governments have been irresponsible when it comes to investing in local healthcare,” says Baudhimai mayor Pradeep Kumar Yadav. Health workers and institutions continue to work without being paid or funded when the budget remains frozen for months at a time. “It does not matter to a patient when the fiscal year begins,” says Sachin Yadav at the Malangwa Provincial Hospital. “Maternal deaths do not wait for the budget to be released.” And despite budget constraints, political posturing still continues. At local levels, officials build multiple birthing centres in each ward when one would suffice, and these buildings remain empty.&nbsp; Politics also plays a significant role in whether or not local officials are willing to agree when health officials try to refer pregnancy-related complications to better-equipped facilities. And while services have improved due to the efforts of dedicated healthcare officials, they are transferred from one place to another at the whim of governments that come and go, which means staff turnover in these institutions is very high, affecting consistent service delivery. &nbsp; Yadav has been at Malangwa for three years— during which yearly institutional deliveries have gone from 2,000 to 3,200 and C-section births have gone from 150 to 700. He had just begun to hit his stride at the hospital when he received transfer letters to another hospital.&nbsp; So far, he has managed to hold on to his position in Malangwa, but he does not know how long he will be able to delay the transfer. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Tackling patriarchy</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260312120328_7df47f32c19a10cd59efbd7e2639a1b719bd4f6ca50bfa24189c8ecc65f21d09" data-rendition-name="original" width="1850" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="maternal health"> </figure>  Nepal has made dramatic progress in reducing the maternal mortality rate (MMR) from 539 per 100,000 births to 142 over the past 30 years. But that is the national average. MMR is still high in parts of Nepal where access to healthcare and adoption of health services are not as extensive. One reason is that despite birthing centres and awareness of pre- and post-natal healthcare, s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-slaughter-of-our-daughters">ocio-cultural norms in a patriarchal society</a> also mean that female literacy remains low, and the rate of underage marriage is high.&nbsp; Rautahat has the lowest literacy rate in Nepal, and the lowest female literacy rate. This has a direct correlation with its its fertility and maternal mortality rates. Gaur Hospital continues to see maternal and intrauterine fetal death (IUFD) deaths due to a lack of ANC visits by patients. In the absence of education and information, socio-cultural misconceptions still persist. Women refuse to take essential pre-natal medication like folic acid because they think it will affect their babies’ complexion, and do not eat enough fruits because they believe it will cause fetal pneumonia.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260314020348_2ce41f5b625cb005b9477861d0c208e806601ce7eaa804d525030282675e3856" data-rendition-name="original" width="377" height="367" loading="lazy" alt="Motherhood in Madhes"> </figure>  Women are also expected to get through their pregnancies without going for health check ups in keeping with the tradition of their mothers and mothers-in-law enduring pregnancy and childbirth at home without access to healthcare. Maternal and neonatal health outcomes are also affected by child marriage, as well as the patriarchy-enforced preference of a male child in the family.&nbsp; At Gaur Provincial Hospital, 25-year-old Asha Kumari stands with her hands braced against the hospital bed as she is gripped by a contraction. Her eldest child is already 12, and she is at the hospital to have her fifth baby.&nbsp; “She had already had two children by the time she was 18,” explains her mother, who is here with Asha’s mother-in-law. &nbsp; Officials worry that reporting instances of child marriage might mean that women no longer trust health workers and hospitals, and stop accessing healthcare altogether. They insist that investment in maternal health needs to be accompanied by socio-cultural interventions. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FtVA--CRk3nM%3Fsi%3DJtFs6cwqOhJua9NI&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>

Motherhood in the Madhes

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

Shristi Karki

RSP’s activist DNA

Samsung Nepal has opened pre-orders for the Galaxy A57 5G and A37 5G. Both phones run Samsung’s One UI 8.5, featuring AI capabilities like voice transcription, Circle to Search, and photo editing. They feature a 50MP triple-camera system, a Super AMOLED display, and six years of OS and security updates.

Galaxy A series

The war in West Asia has exposed the fragility of the economic architecture Nepal has built on over two generations. If the conflict continues, growth across developing Asia will slow and prices will rise. For Nepal, this will be felt through higher living costs, weaker economic activity, and growing uncertainty for the millions of families who depend on remittances.&nbsp; Nepal now needs to structurally transform from exporting labour to investing in domestic job creation. &nbsp; The country's current path toward a knowledge economy has a blind spot. A <a href="https://iids.org.np/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/unleashing.pdf" target="_blank">report</a> by the Institute for Integrated Development Studies (IIDS) in Kathmandu shows that IT export companies alone generated 7,228 jobs and income for 66,509 freelancers.&nbsp; We are building digital labour export, not an economy that accumulates institutional knowledge. The Nepali Upwork developer and a migrant construction worker in the Gulf are engaged in the same economic activity, but with different tools. Nepal’s reliance on a <a href="https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/BX.TRF.PWKR.DT.GD.ZS?locations=NP" target="_blank">remittance-driven economy,</a> means the country has failed to create enough <a href="https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/nepal/publication/unlocking-nepal-s-growth-potential" target="_blank">quality jobs</a> at home. For millions of young people, leaving the country is not a choice but a necessity to survive and support families back home. <a href="https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/nepal/publication/unlocking-nepal-s-growth-potential" target="_blank">Remittances</a> have no doubt helped reduce poverty. Thirty years ago, 55% of Nepal’s population lived on less than $2.15 a day, now it is 20% after the absolute poverty line was revised upwards. This progress has come at a cost — &nbsp;an economy that depends more on exporting workers than creating opportunities at home. This development reflects a deeper political failure to create meaningful jobs within the country. Since the democratic transition in 1991, Nepal’s leadership has largely recycled the same faces, with limited progress on job creation or industrial growth.&nbsp; Nepal cannot build a <a href="https://nipore.org/accelerating-nepals-startups/" target="_blank">knowledge economy</a> while its most ambitious people are outbound to Doha and Tokyo. We are also not just losing ‘labour’. We are losing the entrepreneurial risk tolerance of our youth.&nbsp; If the most ambitious 25-year-olds are abroad, who is left to support innovation and entrepreneurship? The same people who are working tirelessly abroad, are our biggest asset for development. Their work ethic and the know-how inurban renewal could well fit into the new RSP government’s mandate of 7% annual growth.&nbsp; The <a href="https://english.biznessnews.com/posts/-nepal%E2%80%99s-it-exports-cross-1-billion-" target="_blank">$1B milestone</a> of IT exports is a celebratory moment for Nepal. However, that cannot lead to a pathway to a $100 billion economy without innovation ecosystems that go beyond individual labour export. Companies like SecurityPal and industry associations such as NASIT have made significant efforts in building such an environment, recently championed by private sector leaders as a &nbsp;<a href="https://www.securitypalhq.com/blog/silicon-peaks" target="_blank">Silicon Peaks</a> model that emphasises a home growth tech cluster. The need to accelerate this transition is even more urgent with the escalating conflict in West Asia. &nbsp;The recent International Labour Organisation (ILO) <a href="https://www.ilo.org/sites/default/files/2026-03/Nepal%20LDC%20Graduation%20Employment%20Impacts%20Report.pdf" target="_blank">report</a> shows that LDC graduation is expected to adversely impact manufacturing with losses of $1 billion by 2030.&nbsp; If manufacturing takes such a large hit from losing trade preferences, then Nepal’s services and IT sectors need to structurally transform and shift from exporting individual talent to building firms. &nbsp; A generation’s frustration has finally forced a shift in Nepal’s political structure, handing the new government a clear mandate to fix failures. But the question still persists: what prevents Nepal from achieving sustained, productivity-driven growth? &nbsp;&nbsp; RSP is in the right place at the right time to put Nepal's economy on a firm footing. At the heart of Nepal’s economic underperformance lies a major development binding constraint: low returns to investment on projects.&nbsp; The government invests like a high-growth economy, with gross capital formation at around <a href="https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/NE.GDI.FTOT.ZS?locations=NP" target="_blank">25–30 percent of GDP</a>. Yet economic growth remains modest. The problem is not how much the country invests, but how little it gets in return. One way to see this is by looking at how much investment is required to generate growth.&nbsp; Nepal needs large amounts of capital to produce relatively small gains in output (graph, below). For instance, in 2024, the ICOR was 8.29, this suggests that Nepal had to invest more than 8 units of capital to produce a one unit of additional economic output.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260406040412_605dc527641d2ff2dc5723ed8bbec946898331d5538a55b9941e32a0725bf811.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260406040412_605dc527641d2ff2dc5723ed8bbec946898331d5538a55b9941e32a0725bf811" data-rendition-name="original" width="1827" height="925" loading="lazy" alt="Economy graph"> <figcaption>Source: Author's calculation based on a Growth Diagnostic simulation</figcaption> </figure>  This reflects a deeper issue in how investment is allocated and executed. Capital is often locked in low-productivity sectors or diluted by delays, inefficiencies, and policy uncertainty.&nbsp; As a result, even high levels of investment fail to translate into sustained growth. Until investment shifts toward productive, firm-building activities, higher spending alone will not deliver results. &nbsp; To reverse this, the government must focus on raising the returns to investment by enabling firms to grow and compete. This requires a shift from managing scarcity to creating an environment where capital can generate consistent and predictable returns. A central priority should be given to attracting and retaining both domestic and foreign private investment. Investors do not just respond to direct incentives, but also to policy stability in the country. Nepal’s economy cannot sustain high growth if its human capital continues to leave the country.&nbsp; The goal should not simply be to create jobs, but to build companies that scale, innovate, and compete beyond Nepal. This requires supporting sectors with strong productivity potential and ensuring that firms can expand without being constrained by infrastructure gaps or regulatory friction. Finally, the state must improve the quality of its own investment. Public spending should focus on lowering the cost of doing business through reliable electricity, efficient logistics, and digital infrastructure.&nbsp; The GenZ movement took two days to bring change. The economic transformation of Nepal might take a generation. The RSP can accelerate this transition, but only if it focuses on building a better investment climate for business and not just feeding the global labour pool. Kailash Raj Pandey is an MPA/ID and MBA candidate at Harvard Kennedy School and MIT Sloan School of Management and a fellow at MIT Kuo Sharper Center for Innovation and Prosperity.&nbsp; Siddhartha Raymajhí is a policy researcher based in Kathmandu.

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