Three years ago, the Auditor General's Office asked for justification for the government’s revenue exemption on vehicle assembly plants. That year, Bajaj, which assembles two-wheelers in Nepal, received an exemption worth Rs767 million in excise duty and VAT on imported spares.
Since then, Yamaha, Hero, Honda, and TVS have all set up two-wheeler assembly plants in Nepal, and most motorcycles now sold in the country are assembled here. The distributor of Hyundai vehicles Laxmi Intercontinental is even assembling cars in Nepal.
These companies get a 50% rebate on excise duty but there is no value addition, they do not use local materials or resources, rendering the tax exemption they enjoy rewarding the captains of industry, and not citizens. The cost savings are not passed down to the consumers, instead two-wheelers assembled in Nepal are as expensive as imported ones.
An advisory committee on tax system reform last year recommended gradually doing away with the Rs200 billion in revenue exemptions that the government provides every year that does little to boost the economy or generate employment.
“Year after year, we have a different finance minister who hands out tax exemptions to cronies. This is disastrous and should be abolished,” says one of the members of the committee, Ram Prasad Gyanwaly, a professor of economics at Tribhuvan University.
Every year around budget time, there is a big debate about taxing electric vehicles. On one side are environmentally conscious groups in favour of tax rebates, while others consider it a luxury that needs to be taxed. But rebates on private EVs and battery-powered buses would reduce the petroleum import bill and clean up the air-- an argument that is lost in the annual cacophony.
One in every five Nepalis (6 million people) live in poverty, which means they earn Rs200 or less daily. They can barely make a living, let alone afford education or regular healthcare. Most are forced to migrate.
This monsoon was deadly on Nepal’s roads because taxpayers' money did not get to where it could save lives. It is not fair to award large tax rebates to individuals so they can drive their SUVs on potholed highways.
Seventeen years ago, the government announced that it would give a 50% VAT refund to businesses importing mobile phones, the argument being that it would control the theft of mobile phones and reduce the market price. Two years later, this figure was increased to 60%. But a task force three years since has concluded that this tax exemption worth billions has nothing to do with consumers but only goes to benefit powerful importers with political connections.
The number of goods and services with VAT exemptions should be decreasing every year, but it has been increasing annually. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) has also reminded the government that the current system of VAT refunds and tax exemptions is not working. If concessions must be given, it says, that should be a subsidy through the budget.
Then there is the whole question of transparency in announcing these exemptions at budget time every year. Two years ago, nearly Rs100 billion in tax exemptions were handed out through the Economic Act and the Customs Act, even though such exceptions are only allowed for certain items like foreign loans and diplomatic facilities.
Nepal’s airlines are also exempted from paying customs duty on spare parts, even though the same exception is not made for surface public transport companies that may need it more.
Even more anomalous was a budget two years ago during when Finance Minister Janardan Sharma allowed the import of 10 buses at 1% customs duty for under construction five-star hotels. Such irregularities are widespread in other sectors including oil, jute, private healthcare as well as LPG. Tax exemptions in Nepal are essentially making the rich richer and the poor poorer.
The Auditor General’s report goes on to state that there is no record of the basis on which these exemptions were made, and an analysis about how it would benefit the economy. There is no attempt to correlate the tax cuts and rebates with encouraging manufacturing, creating jobs, and attracting investment. It is not difficult to see that it is you-scratch-my-back-I-scratch-yours.
India is doing away with tax exemptions to stamp our political cronyism, even though it has been only partly successful.
Committee member Laxman Aryal put it simply: "If tax exemptions do not help in job creation, economic expansion and growth in manufacturing, it is ill-gotten.”
Ramesh Kumar

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

The taxman looteth

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19939c7e80680e0ac827jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="664" height="450"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Even as Nepal tries to recover from the impact of the pandemic, the country’s economic indicators released this week by the central bank show dismal performance in the first two months of the fiscal year.The report by the Nepal Rastra Bank shows that Nepal’s foreign currency reserves fell to $11.1 in mid-September, 6.6% below the figure for last year, this is enough to pay for only 8 months of total imports.Even more worrying is that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/defying-predictions-nepals-remittances-still-high/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">overseas remittances that had held steady despite the pandemic</a> for the past two years have now started declining. Nepalis abroad sent home Rs155 billion in the past year, which is 6.3% below the same period last year.Despite the pandemic, remittances had risen by 8.1% in fiscal year 2019-2020. Experts attributed that to overseas workers sending money home as the economic crisis hit families back home, and not necessarily due to higher earnings.The concurrent decrease in foreign currency reserves to finance <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/blood-sweat-tears/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s imports, mainly of petroleum</a>, food and other commodities, is seen as an indicator of an impending economic crisis. The main reason for the current downturn is shrinking remittances, which prop up Nepal’s economy.Indeed, compared to 2019-2020, the past year has seen a steep 76% increase in imports to a record Rs352 billion, mainly due to a rise in the import of petroleum products, gold, silver and other items, according to Rastra Bank figures.Even though exports went up by 115% in the same period to Rs44.4 billion, it did not put much of a dent on the trade deficit which has risen to Rs270 billion in the past two months of the fiscal year. This represents a 71% increase in the trade gap compared to last year.The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-less-and-less-able-to-feed-itself/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">growing asymmetry between imports and exports</a> means that the country’s balance of payments situation is now Rs83.4 billion in the red — up from Rs38.7 billion in July.With the alarm bells ringing, the government has drastically reduced the amount of money Nepalis can officially exchange before traveling abroad from $1,500 to $200-500. This week, further austerity measures were announced, including a ban on the purchase of vehicles for official use.The negative trend in economic indicators could not have come at a worse time. Just as the country was recovering from the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-real-cost-of-nepals-second-wave/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">economic impact of the pandemic</a>, it was hit by extreme rainfall this month which killed more than 110 people across the country, and destroyed up to one-third of the country’s ready to harvest rice crop.The Ministry of Agriculture estimates that nearly 90,000 hectares of rice fields were severely damaged by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/post-monsoon-rain-ruins-nepals-crops/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the unseasonal post-monsoon rains</a>, and paddy losses will amount to more than Rs8 billion. Lumbini Province is said to have suffered the worst, with more than half of the initially reported damage nationwide.The unprecedented destruction comes just as farmers and officials were optimistic about a healthy rice harvest because of a healthy monsoon season. Rice is such an important component of Nepal’s economy that it will impact on the GDP, economic growth, and have a knock-on effect on the trade deficit because more rice will now need to be imported.Last year Nepal produced 5.6 million tonnes of rice from 1.4 million hectares of paddy fields, up 1.3% from the previous year. However, rising income levels of Nepalis has also meant that rice consumption is growing, and the country had to import Rs 51 billion worth of rice last year, compared to only Rs23 billion in 2019.Analysts say the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/are-nepalis-really-eating-more-rice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">sharp increase in rice imports</a> cannot be attributed only to rising consumption, explaining it by the rise in demand from Nepal’s breweries and the dramatic rise in domestic beer consumption.

Nepal’s remittances, forex reserves drop

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21709c7e80680e04173ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="730" height="886"/>In 1991, India’s foreign exchange reserves almost emptied when the country’s balance of payments collapsed. The Central Bank eventually averted a full-blown crisis, but poverty in India increased in the years that followed. Manmohan Singh was finance minister, and he introduced dramatic economic reforms that unleashed India’s economy and has been the foundation of its growth.Today, Nepal is at the risk of facing the same crisis India experienced three decades ago. There is a net outflow of foreign exchange, as remittance income fails to keep pace with the growth in <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/from-a-fossil-past-to-an-electric-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">imports, mainly petroleum. </a>Nepal’s foreign exchange reserves currently can sustain only 7 months and 26 days of imports, compared to 14 months and 3 days as recently as 2016. (See graph above) Nepal Rastra Bank also calculated that in the first four months of the fiscal year, Nepal’s balance of payments deficit stood at Rs57 billion and in just the last month it increased by Rs22 billion.“The current rate of increase in the balance of payments deficit will be a huge crisis in the future,” warns Bijaya Nath Bhattarai, an ex-governor of Nepal Rastra bank.Read also : <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18194#.XC73rFUzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hydrocratic dreams</a>, Ratna Sansar Shrestha Nepal’s over-dependence on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kleptocrats-of-kathmandu-and-kualalampur/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">remittance </a>is deepening the crisis. Among different sources of foreign exchange for a country such as investments, exports, or tourism, remittances from overseas workers is the most unreliable income source because it can easily be affected by political tension and conflicts. Nepal’s remittance income is also not ploughed into productive sectors, and is mostly used up in paying for imported consumer goods and energy.Some 65% of Nepal’s total import bill is paid through remittances, while exports constitute only 6% and investment only 17% of Nepal’s annual foreign exchange income that is used to pay for imports. But even with all these sources combined, Nepal cannot meet 12% of its import bill, which is what is leading to the balance of payment deficit. The country has been forced to dip into its foreign exchange reserves to meet the gap.In the first four months of the current fiscal year, Nepal imported goods worth approximately Rs400 billion while exports were only worth Rs29 billion. Even though this is a tremendous difference, finance minister <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/calendar-of-economic-change/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Yuba Raj Khatiwada</a> admits that what worries him more is the gap in the service sector. Most of the current outflow is for energy and vehicle imports, while there is also a huge outflow due to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-certificate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">students</a>, medical patients and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/where-are-you-going-this-dasain/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepalis vacationing abroad</a>. Nepali tourists spent Rs35 billion abroad in the four months of this fiscal year, but foreign tourists spent only Rs25 billion in Nepal during the same period.This deteriorating balance of payments deficit may compel the government to adopt a restrictive monetary policy, but economist Keshav Acharya explains that this will mean only two choices for the government: “Either the government must take foreign loans, or reduce imports to prevent the outflow of hard currency.”The easiest step would be to borrow, but ex-governor Bhattarai notes that adhering to the strict conditions of the donors might be very painful for Nepal as it has been for other countries. Moreover, the crisis may also lead to policies to stop Nepalis going abroad, and limit imports to only basic goods.The CEO of Nepal Rastra Bank Nar Bahadur Thapa says, “If the balance of payments deficit and growth of imports continues at the present rate, we may not be able to import even the goods needed for development projects.”It is accepted practice that an import-dependent country without a sustainable source of foreign currency needs to maintain foreign exchange reserves to handle at least six months of imports. But with Nepal’s total annual export meeting only 24 days of imports, Nepal Rastra Bank’s policy is to maintain foreign exchange reserves to last at least 8 months.If not, depleted reserves can put pressure on Nepali fixed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/dollar-laxmi/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">exchange rate </a>with Indian currently at Rs160. If that happens, there will be ruinous capital flight to India, as has occurred in the past. Ex-governor Krishna Bahadur Mandandhar says that the government and the central bank still have time to remedy the situation by limiting imports of luxury items. But this could lead to an expansion in the black market.Earlier this year, when the government applied quantitative restrictions on the import of sugar, the price immediately shot up by Rs5 per kg. Worse, if there is a devaluation of the Nepali rupee it will raise inflation and that could lead the economy into a downward spiral.Experts advise that while the central bank needs to be free from political interference to stabilise the economy, the government and the central bank must coordinate their actions. In the longer-term, there is no other way but to attract investors by increasing the competitiveness of the Nepali economy and increase exports.

Nepal living beyond its means

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

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

My father’s son

Singha Bahadur Lama worked for six years in Malaysia, but back home in Nepal he is now earning more than he ever did overseas. Here in his village 60km east of Kathmandu, Lama now harvests Buddhachitta seeds from sacred trees that grow in the mountains, and turns them into prayer bead necklaces revered in Tibetan Buddhism. The Buddhachitta tree (Ziziphus budhensis) is indigenous to Nepal and grows in the mountains of Kavre district, and demand boomed after the Dalai Lama proclaimed that the seeds found in Nepal were the best. People from Kavre had gone to Bodh Gaya 12 years ago and presented the Dalai Lama with Buddhachitta prayer beads. Not long after, while speaking in Taiwan the Dalai Lama told followers that the seeds from Nepal had special powers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8" data-rendition-name="original" width="737" height="536" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama shows a visiting journalist different types of Buddhachitta seeds. Single-faced beads are the rarest and most valuable, as are the smallest 8mm beads. A prayer necklace made of 108 beads would easily cost Rs1.5 million (over $10,630). “We cannot say if our trees will give smaller beads or even how many faces or clear eyes, it’s all natural,” says Lama, who now works as a consultant, advising people all over Nepal about planting the tree, and has since spread it across the country. Four years ago, a Chinese middleman made 7mm plastic cups to cover the seeds, hoping the trees would produce smaller pods. It did not work, and the trees died. Such is the demand for high-quality Buddhachitta beads that a group of 20 men employed by a Chinese dealer cut down a tree along the Rosi River last year. The harvest from that tree had made $212,600 the year before. With that kind of price, the trees are in danger of being chopped down. &nbsp; Lama himself used to make Rs10 million ($70,880) from the seeds of each tree. With this money, he built new houses and sent his daughter to Japan, all with Buddhachitta income. But the market for the seeds is volatile.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama invested Rs10 million when prices were high ten years ago, but he lost most of that when the prices collapsed for bigger seeds.&nbsp; He adds: “That year the demand was only for small seeds, and it has only been three years since the prices have risen again for seeds that make no sound when you shake them.”&nbsp; HISTORY Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche left seeds of Buddhachitta while meditating in the Temal region of Kavre district in the 8th century as a blessing. He is known in the Himalaya as the ‘Second Buddha’ whose birth was foretold by the Buddha himself, and spread Buddhism in Tibet. Now, almost every household from the Tamang community here has on average 50 trees. The tree thrives on gravel and sandy soil, needs to be protected from excess water, and can grow up to 10 meters high. It starts bearing fruit annually from its third year and one tree lives for 90 years. The fruits are handpicked every June and July, and then have to be processed by boiling the seeds to remove their hard outer skin. The seeds are then dried in the sun for a few days.&nbsp; “Our families have been growing Buddhachitta for generations, but it started becoming hugely profitable only about 12 years ago, it has become a cash crop and has even replaced staples like maize,” says Dev Lama, 55.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Dev Lama</figcaption> </figure>  What helps is that Buddhachitta is not a high-maintenance crop, it just needs some weeding, watering, and protection from hailstorms and pesticides. Once it matures, it does not need much care, and farmers intercrop it with other grain.&nbsp; “You don’t have to work on it every year like maize, which needs to be planted year after year,” explains Shova Shrestha, 33. “We also continue to grow other vegetables and spices, all of which help to preserve soil nutrients.” Generally, farmers do not sell directly to Chinese traders but deal with local middlemen who take a cut before they take it to the Chinese traders who lodge in Kathmandu during the harvest season. But the bulk of the profit is made by Chinese wholesalers across the border. &nbsp; And now with the proliferation of the plant, and with nearly every family growing several trees, farmers sometimes struggle to find buyers and are often severely short-changed, as was the case with Maiya Tamang’s family.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Maiya Tamang</figcaption> </figure>  “I wasn’t home that day two years ago, but my sons later told me that my husband sold an entire tree for just Rs1,500,” recalls Tamang, 60. “We asked him why he sold it for a price that wouldn’t even buy a sack of rice, and he just shrugged.” Tamang did make a profit two years ago, but last year’s crop was destroyed by a hailstorm. Despite this, the bead business has augmented the income of a family dependent on subsistence agriculture. &nbsp; A neighbour, Sonam Tamang, had a few Buddhachitta trees in his backyard and has bought saplings from a nursery to expand. Saplings cost Rs500, but it is double that for plants that give high value seeds. Says Sonam Tamang: “The middlemen sometimes cheat us by offering much less than the seeds are worth, and they don’t allow us to speak directly with the Chinese buyers. But even if we did, there would be a language barrier.” Meanwhile, Singha Bahadur Lama who started out as a Buddhachitta farmer now owns a nursery and is a dealer in saplings himself. Some Nepalis have tried to sell directly in China, but face added costs of travel and hotel while there. &nbsp; With contributions from Qian Sun, Global Voices.

Sacred seed feeds boom

Dimar Chaudhary was born and raised in Old Padampur, the village inside what is now Chitwan National Park before it was dsignated a protected area. His Tharu community, as well as other indigenous groups, traditionally relied on Chitwan’s jungles and rivers for generations. Chaudhary himself had grown up collecting medicinal plants and wild vegetables, gathering wood, and grazing cattle in the forest. Chitwan, along with much of Nepal’s Tarai, was plagued by malaria until a US-supported DDT spraying campaign to wipe out the disease in the district in the 1950s. This opened the valley up to trans-migration of farmers from the hills. Before that, Chitwan was inhabited entirely by indigenous people: 90% of the district’s population was Tharu, and the rest were Bote, Mushar, Darai and Majhi communities. In 1973 Chitwan National Park became Nepal's first protected area and in 1996, the Nepal government introduced the Buffer Zone Management Rule under the National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act to manage forests surrounding protected areas, and ensure local participation in parks management. Old Padampur was subsequently relocated outside the park. Ntional parks formed buffer zone user committees (BZUCs) to manage and oversee community forests. Hundreds of thousands of local people were directly involved in managing buffer zone community forests across the country. Over three decades, these forests have not only made conservation collaborative, but also helped to mitigate wildlife-related crimes and human wildlife conflict. In 2014, 2015 and 2016, Nepal achieved zero poaching for its three flagship species: rhinos, tigers and elephants. But while these user communities have made wildlife conservation participatory, the process hasn’t been inclusive of Nepal’s indigenous and underserved communities. In 2022, WWF supported Community Conservation Nepal to collect data on natural resources used by Tharu indigenous people before the establishment of Chitwan National Park. The project also looked into the inclusion of indigenous, women, Dalit and disabled communities in the Baghauda, Paachpandav, Meghauli, Mrigakunja, and Amaltari Buffer Zone User Committees (BZUC) as well as the Someshwor, Gardi Chure, Radha Krishna, and Baghmara Buffer Zone Community Forests (BZCF).  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251210141228_83a5b021c62b6c4a67888e5eee85d3fdcba3fd34d00e581996213d1ae10d6977.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251210141228_83a5b021c62b6c4a67888e5eee85d3fdcba3fd34d00e581996213d1ae10d6977" data-rendition-name="original" width="1342" height="941" loading="lazy" alt="BZUC map"></figure>  BARRIERS TO INCLUSION The survey found that women are underrepresented in all the BZUCs despite women user groups being larger. Nepal’s Buffer Zone laws dictate that each BZUC has 13 members. Each BZUC is made up of nine units, and as many representatives are elected from those units. The elected members have the authority to choose the remaining four members. This meant that indigenous peoples, marginalised groups, and women have a far lower chance of being elected. Indeed, out of the total members, Paachpandav and Mrigakunja BCUZs had four women, Meghauli had three women, and Baghauda had only one woman, whereas Amaltari user committee had no woman member. In contrast, the BZCF are relatively more inclusive of women, with two out of four surveyed BZCF comprising half women members. Additionally, some grassroots user committees are made up entirely of women. Most women members of the user committees are not appointed through elections, but chosen by elected male members, and are not given positions of leadership. “Women have been the ones protecting the forests ever since the concept of forest conservation initially emerged,” one female participant told us during a focus group discussion. People would get angry when the women stopped them from cutting down trees and grass, and grazing cattle in the jungles, she recalled, adding, “We were dedicated to the user committees. However, we are no longer involved in the committees, nor are we invited to meetings.” When asked about the absence of women in the user committees, one BZUC chairperson responded, “There are only men here because they won the election. Women are unwilling to run for the election. How will they fit into the committee if no woman has ever run for election?” However, not only are women deprived of the chance to contest elections, the chances of them winning polls are also very low because a majority of the positions in the committee will already have been allocated by political parties to their male cadres. Women from marginalised communities face further hurdles.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251210141228_7ee7dc43b925b4d6e97bfdc5a02df85d4d828e8a82eb00d3086217baf2438b43.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251210141228_7ee7dc43b925b4d6e97bfdc5a02df85d4d828e8a82eb00d3086217baf2438b43" data-rendition-name="original" width="959" height="508" loading="lazy" alt="BZUC "></figure>  “No male member from the Musahar community has been elected in the user community, if they had, they could have suggested that women from our community be included in the committee as well,” said a female participant from the Musahar community. While the native Musahar and Bote people lack representation in the BZUC, indigenous people did make up the majority of the members in the committees, while Dalit members were included in some collectives. However, only one committee is led by an indigenous person. The others are chaired by upper-caste hill migrants. In addition, no committee had any representative with disabilities. One of the key reasons for the under-representation of marginalised communities in Nepal’s BZUC is its non-inclusive policy. When Nepal’s Constitution was promulgated in 2015, residents living in proximity to protected areas across Nepal had hoped that policies relating to buffer zones and their governance would be reformed to reflect Nepal’s new socio-political reality. But this has not been the case. However, this has not discouraged indigenous Nepalis, who have continued to demand buffer zone policy reforms that ensure the inclusion of women, indigenous and marginalised communities. In addition to policy revision, it is necessary to reform the buffer zone election so that it is more participatory for underserved communities. Reforms should also regulate the number of members in a user group. Similarly, the budget allocated for buffer zones must be used on activities that benefit conservation instead of local infrastructure development. Women, people with disabilities, indigenous and marginalised communities should be the primary beneficiaries of budget dispensation. Crop damage compensation, which currently is Rs10,000, can be increased by five times to Rs50,000. Policy revisions should ultimately guarantee the rights of indigenous communities like the Sonaha, Bote and Musahar to practice their culture and traditional livelihoods and receive a formal education. Buffer Zone User Committees must apply indigenous conservation practices for park management. Birendra Mahato is an elected member of the Ratnanagar Municipality Ward 6 and Founder Chair of the Tharu Culture Museum Research Centre in Sauraha.