<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413114/63722f1d9c7e80680e0c24fcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1001"/>Sixteen years after the war everyone in Nepal still needs Transitional Justice.In November October 2006, the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) promised us truth and justice about what had gone on in the previous decade. But nothing has happened.Perhaps most shocking, the promise that the whereabouts of the disappeared would be revealed within 60 days has been completely ignored, and their families have been badly betrayed.The only real outcome of the CPA has been the creation of myths and false promises around transitional justice for survivors.Certainly, the victims, survivors, families, and friends all are central to the process and they must be the first to be consulted. Their priorities and demands fit neatly into what is now an established international tradition of transitional justice after conflict. Four main elements are key: truth, justice, reparations and non-recurrence.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/">Nepal runs out of excuses to address war crimes</a>,Tufan NeupaneBut we must be clear that while reparations and memorialisation are primarily for victims, truth, justice and non-repetition affect every Nepali— all the people who lived through the conflict had their lives changed, mostly in a negative way, even if only at the basic economic level. Some lost land, others were badly treated, many lived in fear, were displaced, lost jobs, income and opportunities. Everyone has the right to know the truth, to know what happened, and why.As a society, we also need to know what it is to be like to wait for your loved one for years not knowing their fate. What is to suffer in silence following a gang rape? How does it feel to live without a limb and with the trauma of witnessing the beheading of your near and dear people? What is it like to not have closure?As a nation, we all need to know what led to the war that cost so many lives to prevent a similar situation in future.All of those old enough to remember the period before conflict will recall how badly the state served them. How awful the police and army were, how hopeless, expensive and slow the justice system was, how the political patronage destroyed the public institution. Finding the truth of the conflict, unpacking the basis of such conflicts, and the experiences of survivors will help us understand how it affects our daily life today and what needs to be done.Not many people feel that the police force protects and serves us all as it claims. Not many understand why the army is still so big, and why it is such an important economic actor.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/toothless-commissions/">Toothless Commissions</a>, EditorialNot many people realise why law does not treat everyone equally, why they still have very limited access to justice unless they are rich or have good connections. A truth process about the conflict will shed a lot of light on these issues and our system which is often difficult to understand and analyse.Sexual violence against women is among the biggest societal issues today, as it was during the conflict. If we understand sexual violence in the conflict, we will be better informed about its nature. This in turn will provide us with a much clearer picture of how we must deal with them at present time.Many of the young women protesting against recent rape cases including that of Nirmala and Sushmita were not even of school age when the conflict ended. They need to know the history to better campaign today.It is clear that young people are not satisfied with the political set up today, 16 years after the CPA. And they have a right to know the history of their country, the events that made it what it is.This is not really surprising. We are living in a post-conflict period. Those who make decisions for us in 2022 are the same people who did so during the conflict years, whose decisions cost lives of many people and forced many more to suffer silently, including women raped and tortured. These women are not recognised as conflict victims. They are deprived of interim relief offered to other conflict victims.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/rocky-transition-to-justice/">Rocky transition to justice</a>, EditorialIt's tragic we have learnt very little from the conflict which could have taught us so much.  Some of us remember the excitement and promise of Republic Day in May 2008, nearly 14 years ago.No one told us then that there would be no reformation of the police, why we still need the APF, a counterinsurgency force set up in the conflict which no longer has an insurgency to fight. No one told us that our taxes would be used up paying for an army of nearly 100,000, with no enemy to fight unless we decide to invade India or China. No one told us that the new Nepal would remain a place where the lives of women would continue to be hidden and misreported.Yes, we demand reparations and memorialisation for victims. But we also want truth and justice because this is the society we decided we wanted when the war started and when it ended.This week, around 30 women who suffered sexual violence and rape during conflict are coming to Kathmandu from different parts of country once again to demand what they want from the TJ process. Their demand for truth, justice and reparation is to help build a new Nepal, to unearth the past and learn from it.Let us hope the people who have previously claimed to campaign for human rights provide safe space for those open to sharing their pain and anguish, and deliver their promise to establish a credible TJ process in Nepal.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-struggle-for-transitional-justice/">The struggle for Transitional Justice</a>, Hari PhuyalMohna Ansari is Commissioner, National Human Rights Commission of Nepal. Mandira Sharma is a lawyer and human rights defender who co-founded Advocacy Forum in 2001.

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No closure after Nepal’s insurgency

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208639c7e80680e0b54e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1189"/><figcaption>Ila Sharma and Hishila Yami in conversation at Indian Embassy, January 2022. Photos: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>Last month, a small group of people sat in a hall at the Indian Embassy, listening to two women in conversation around <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/nepals-maoist-revolution-from-the-inside/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a book by former minister Hisila Yami</a>. What was interesting about this conversation was that it was happening between two women who had  been on opposite sides during Nepal’s Maoist conflict. Hisila Yami, was a former Maoist leader and Ila Sharma, a former election commissioner whose husband was killed by the Maoists.…When snail-mails arrived at my hostel in a hill-town in India in 1996, a friend wrote saying a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/revisiting-maoist-demands,2860" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist insurgency</a> had begun in Nepal. Then, while watching the news in the hall one evening, Ms Chakraborty said: You have a Naxalite movement in Nepal, it seems. I looked at her and then at the tv. Naxalite movement? My teenage mind had a difficult time stringing terms 'insurgency' and 'Naxalite'.I had little knowledge of what was going on in Nepal. But every time I came home on vacation, meal time conversations spilled with news about the Maoists. My mornings at home began with parents focusing on the Kantipur daily spread before them, reading bits of news aloud -- much of it about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-unpunished-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">people being killed across Nepal</a>.…Soon after I returned to Kathmandu for good, I received an offer to work at the Indian Embassy’s Press and Information and Culture section. As someone who had just returned with an inflated ego pumped in by convent education, I thought I could take the world by storm. And so, I worked at the embassy as a translator, carefully transcribing news, a lot of which was on <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/hospital-destroyed-in-conflict-and-earthquake,2971" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Army-Maoist clashes</a>. The work took a toll on me and I quit to go back to studies -- I had become tired of recording death, not knowing then that there was going to be more.…As a broadcaster, I spent endless hours writing and reading news about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-scars-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bombings and ambushes</a>. For a sheltered urbanite, who at that time was doing armchair journalism, the Maoists appeared to be at a great distance.I would only meet Maoist cadres much later at the Gokarna Resort, when covering the Government-Maoist peace talks. (Future rounds would happen in Baluwatar, and reporters would all wait through chilly nights, shivering.) When sharing common space, the mystery and romanticism the 'insurgents' had become shrouded in, based on third-hand information, gradually faded away.…A conversation to mark Women’s Day: on the dias at Nepal Tourism Board are Shahana Pradan, Kalpana Dhamala and other women leaders. I am an trainee reporter, who ends up filing about how women representing different sides of politics were able to share a platform that day. I fiercely disagree with violence, but I still thought the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12936#.Yf388i2B2b8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">insurgency had given something to some Nepali women</a> -- a voice.…<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208669c7e80680e0b54e4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On a foggy December morning, I sat at the Shaktikhor Camp talking to Maoist deputy commander Uday Bahadur Chalaune. I wrote about how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/ex-guerrillas-regret-the-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist rebels</a> were languishing in the camps, while their leaders who had shed so much blood on their way to power, reigned in newfound glory. During our conversation, Chalaune and the others reiterated their party stand, at times nodding their heads in that familiar way.Eventually, Chalaune and his relatives would choose the golden handshake instead of integration. Was he disillusioned with the long wait? I have often wanted to meet him again and ask him.…In her one-roomed home in Bhaktapur, Sunita Regmi 'Yojana', a former Maoist warrior, offers me tea. She wears a prosthetic after losing a leg during an attack of an army barrack. During our conversation, she tells me she wants their daughter to grow up to have nothing to do with politics. It makes a good quote to end my story with. I have never met the family again, but have hoped that they have been able to educate the child as Yojana had hoped to.…Jelbang is sunny but cold. Everywhere you turn, you meet someone who lost a loved one to the war. In Thabang, a strange coldness seems to have settled over conversations with outsiders. Who do you trust? Something about the neatness of the place makes me want to stay longer, but it also feels too far away from home. Sadness looms in the air, and I think I probably made it up in my head.…Over the years, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war/">Kiran Chaudhary</a> has become the closest subject to my heart. She awaits justice, years since her <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/wartime-rape-victims-of-Kanchanpur-speak-out-wait-for-justice,4222" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rape</a>-in-custody by the APF during the war. She comes to Kathmandu once a year to see doctors who are still treating her violated body. Her time in Kathmandu is spent shuttling between hospital and the National Human Rights Commission.…Years on, I have never been able to come to terms with the violence that unfolded during the war. Attending the conversation at the Indian Embassy between women who are a privileged minority -- women like me, who went to schools in India and can read and write English text -- made me wonder what Nepal’s endless political wrangling has really done to propel <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-leaders-seen-but-not-heard/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women into politics</a>.Sharma, the father of whose children was among the first casualties of the war, said during the conversation that the way forward to a peaceful politics is to make use of the right to vote. In Nepal, a generation of us grew up without an election for the longest time, and I still don’t vote because I have come to believe that an annulled vote is also a vote.During the conversation, Sharma asked Yami how she now feels about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-the-frontlines-of-nepals-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the war</a> to which so many people on both sides were lost. Yami paused, sighed, expressed regret and then said history is evidence that revolution always demands sacrifices.I have become stuck in her pause. Watching Ila Sharma and Hisila Yami was to watch a repeat of the reconciliation process. But it made me wonder: is reconciliation even a thing after what has passed?Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

Vignettes from war

<figure><img width="1000" height="716" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/6372049d9c7e80680e0b286fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Image from a series by Chinese photographer Guligo Jia’s exhibition of ‘reunions’ of people with family members they lost in the war projected in the wall behind them. Here, Suman Adhikari is photographed with an old photograph of his father Muktinath Adhikari, himself and his brother. Photo: GULIGO JIA </figcaption></figure>My father Muktinath Adhikari was a science and math teacher at the Panini Sanskrit Secondary School in Duradanda in Lamjung district. I had just got into Grade 8 when my mother became ill.We had to take her to hospital in Kathmandu, carrying her in a doko. My father was so dedicated to his school that he did not come with us. It was not because he did not love her.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12522#.YeVp1S8RqLc" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D12522%23.YeVp1S8RqLc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0lOkM1Nl9In27odcK2tW9V">Both my brothers</a> were studying with me in Kathmandu at the time. One was in college and the other was preparing for his SLC exam. I had gone home to Lamjung for winter holidays with one of them.  <figure><img width="200" height="207" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/6372049f9c7e80680e0b2870jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>My mother had to go through two operations, and I pushed back my return to Kathmandu till 18 January 2002. My sister had also come home for the Maghe Sankranti festival. We were all home on 17 January when my grandfather and his brother came hurriedly to tell us that our father had been taken away by the Maoists.They said he was being taken for “interrogation”.He had been teaching his Grade 10 science class when a gun-wielding militia entered the room, tied a rope around his leg and led him off.We did not know what to do. On the one hand, we reasoned, our father had not done anything wrong, had not harmed anyone, so they would let him go. But we had also heard about Maoist executions and feared the worst.He had told his colleagues as was led away: “You see the situation. Whatever happens to me, manage the school well, do not damage the future of the students.” <figure><img width="1400" height="701" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204a19c7e80680e0b2871jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="2070" height="1576" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204a49c7e80680e0b2872jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>We had no news till evening. I followed my brother to look for our Dad. When we reached near the school, someone told us the news was not good, and there was no point looking for him. I had an inkling that something terrible had happened and that no one was telling us, and I returned home. My brother came back at 7PM, and told us that <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17894#.YeVpZS8RqLc" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D17894%23.YeVpZS8RqLc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2N-_RLEZnLbI0cI4QoiUS2">our father had been killed</a>. They had taken him from the school, past our house, tied his neck to a tree with his muffler, and killed him. My family tried to shield my other brother from the news because he was preparing for his school exam. They did not allow him to even listen to the radio, but he found out anyway from my uncle who had gone to Kathmandu to fetch him. When he got home, the whole family went to the site of the crime. My mother, sister and I could not bear to look. I tried to force myself to at least catch a glimpse, but I could not. The photograph of my father’s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16781#.YeVpYi8RqLc" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D16781%23.YeVpYi8RqLc&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0aH2JvgxXsXBuNl3GQVhXh">lifeless body still tied to a tree</a> was on the cover of Himal magazine (pictured right) that week. The editor took a big risk by printing that photograph in the midst of war. Later, the picture was picked up by many other newspapers and spread through social media.Even after 20 years, I get the chills if I see that cover photograph. I cannot describe what my family went through. Our father was the sole source of support for the family. Despite his meagre earnings as a school teacher, he used to help others in the village who were in need. But when it was his family that needed support, no one stepped forward to help.In fact, they tormented us by their silence. No one spoke out. They were too afraid that they would also be killed by the Maoists. Before the murder, my aunt had told my father that many other teachers had fled the village because of threats from the Maoists and he should not put himself in danger. My father had replied: “I have never stolen one paisa from anyone, I have never wished anyone any harm, if I leave the school what will become of the future of my students?” <figure><img width="640" height="867" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204a79c7e80680e0b2873jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It later emerged that the Maoists had asked all teachers to donate 25% of their salary to the revolution. My father stood by his principle that donations should be voluntary, and besides he had to also take care of his family with his salary. He had told the Maoists he would consult the others and give his response, but they did not wait for his answer.We could not even remove the body, or observe funeral rites because of the fear of Maoists. My brothers conducted some rituals at home and returned to Kathmandu.I could not leave my mother alone during such a tragic period, and besides she was not well. I had to discontinue my education, but that was nothing compared to the trauma our family had to go through. We mustered the courage to lodge an FIR at the Lamjung District Police Office. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Commissions-of-convenience,1530" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Commissions-of-convenience,1530&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806496000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2a5uINM9W70AtKb3zZ1Rk0">There are two Commissions</a> to provide justice to the families of the victims of conflict like us, we even went to the National Human Rights Commission.But even after two decades, there has been no justice. The perpetrators were never caught. If this is the condition of such a high profile war crime, imagine what it is like for others who are not as well known. How will the conflict victims in remote parts of the country ever hope for truth and justice?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPK1y8MSMHc&amp;feature=emb_logoThe Commission on Enforced Disappearances and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission are more interested in letting war criminals off the hook than in providing justice. The commissioners are selected on the basis of party wheeling-dealing, and it looks like their sole intention is to protect the perpetrators. And we hear that they want a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw12XhhNJcMJn9L4BGusBJzm">blanket amnesty for all war crimes</a> by both sides in the conflict. International norms say that whether a perpetrator of a crime is to be pardoned or not is solely at the discretion of the victim. Still, they address political rallies and blatantly boast that they killed 5,000 people and those who were responsible for conflict-era crimes are walking openly in broad daylight. My father, who had no connection at all to the Maoist insurgency, was killed by them. We lost our father. Nothing will bring him back. If his murderers are not caught there is a danger <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/history-on-replay/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/history-on-replay/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1SnZqMPw1s7CMEwi7T7g2L">there will be another conflict</a> like this, and there will be other orphans like us. That is why we are still fighting for justice. I just hope no one in Nepal in future has to bear the kind of physical and mental torture that we did as a family. Twenty years later, my father appears to me in my dreams sometimes. I am so happy to see him alive. But then I wake up, and weep. I wish my dream would never end. Translated from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/127861?fbclid=IwAR32w5E-Totbc63ZAnwgR13Lre3VnPxI8_Vt-uf4e8RFqC6ZncnVTwb6KXQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/127861?fbclid%3DIwAR32w5E-Totbc63ZAnwgR13Lre3VnPxI8_Vt-uf4e8RFqC6ZncnVTwb6KXQ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2e4nzefESDuc7Xr6JVIQUS">Nepali original</a> in <a href="http://himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://himalkhabar.com/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642512806497000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0eWk9SdO610RJSKCHi_R-5">himalkhabar.com</a>

Nepal’s unpunished war crimes

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d142b9c7e80680e0a9965jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2002" height="1032"/>A network of 24 civil society groups have demanded that the <a href="https://www.ipu.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU)</a> withdraw its invitation to House Speaker Agni Sapkota to attend its <a href="https://www.ipu.org/event/143rd-assembly-and-related-meetings" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">143rd assembly</a> that begins Friday in Madrid.Sapkota of the Maoist Centre has been accused of summary execution during the conflict, and his case is pending in Nepal’s Supreme Court.The <a href="http://www.advocacyforum.org/what-we-do/transitional-justice-department/accountability-watch-committee.php">Accountability Watch Committee (AWC)</a>, a network of human rights groups and victims of the conflict of Nepal, have written an open letter to the President of IPU Duarte Pacheco, Spanish Foreign Minister José Manuel Albares Bueno and Ambassador to India and Nepal José María Ridao Domínguez asking that Sapkota not be invited to the conference.‘We ask the Government of Spain to direct its immigration authorities not only to refuse Mr. Sapkota entry into the country but also to open an investigation under the principles of Universal Jurisdiction, given the continuing investigation in Nepal in relation to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal/">international crimes</a> committed during Nepal’s conflict,’ wrote AWC coordinator <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-real-story-in-nepals-supreme-court-debacle/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Charan Prasai</a>.The news comes as Nepal this week marks the 15th anniversary of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/by-the-way/justice-adjourned-for-nepal-conflict-victims,454">Comprehensive Peace Accord</a> between Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala and Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda), effectively ending the insurgency in which at least 17,000 people were killed, and more than 2,000 are<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-stalls-on-war-crime-probes/"> still missing</a>.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/state-of-impunity,2976">State of impunity</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/speechless/">Speechless</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d142e9c7e80680e0a9966jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1611" height="1062"><figcaption>Agni Sapkota</figcaption></figure>But <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/">one and a half decades and 14 prime ministers later</a>, and despite the formation of two commissions to investigate war time excesses, conflict-era survivors of torture, abuse, rape and families of those killed continue to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/One-To-Many/victims-waiting-for-justice,698">wait for justice.</a>Nepal’s <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2019/04/13/nepal-reform-transitional-justice-law">delayed transitional justice</a> and multiple cases of the perpetrators being set free have added to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war/">injustice and anguish of the victims and their families</a>.Speaker Sapkota himself is alleged to have been involved in the April 2005 abduction, torture, disappearance, killing and illegal burial of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/quest-for-justice-unites-two-women-whose-relatives-were-victims-in-the-hands-of-the-maoist-and-nepal,1295">Arjun Bahadur Lama,</a> a civic leader from Kavre district. During conflict years, Sapkota was a central committee member and leader of the underground Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist (CPN-M) in Sindhupalchok district, neighbouring Kavre.Sapkota was elected as Speaker in January 2020 amidst protests against his candidacy. Before this, he served as a cabinet minister after his party entered mainstream politics in 2006 after the peace accord.‘Despite the order of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/rights-groups-laud-nepal-supreme-court-ruling/">Supreme Court</a> requiring impartial and prompt investigation and an arrest warrant pending against him, investigations have not proceeded for more than a decade nor has he been arrested. Meanwhile, even as Mr. Sapkota’s political career has progressed, as far as the Nepal Police administration is concerned, he still cannot be located,’ the letter states.Due to the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/05/31/hearing-set-for-case-against-minister-agni-sapkota/">allegations pending</a> against him, Sapkota has had visa applications rejected by the United States and Australia in the past.The letter has been endorsed by prominent members of the civil society and rights organisations, including:<ol><li>Advocacy Forum-Nepal (AF)</li> <li>Amnesty International Nepal</li> <li>Bandurmudhe Ghatana Pidit Samiti</li> <li>Conflict Victim Women National Network (CVWN)</li> <li>Conflict Victims Common Platform (CVCP)</li> <li>Conflict Victims National Alliance (CVNA)</li> <li>Conflict Victims Orphans Society (CVOS)</li> <li>Conflict Victims Society for Justice (CVSJ)</li> <li>Conflict Victims’ Rights Forum, Myagdi</li> <li>Democratic Freedom and Human Rights Institute (DFHRI)</li> <li>Ganesh Ujjan Foundation</li> <li>Human Rights and Justice Centre (HRJC)</li> <li>Human Rights for Justice</li> <li>Human Rights Organizations Nepal (HURON)</li> <li>Informal Sector Service Centre (INSEC)</li> <li>Legal Aid and Consultancy Centre Nepal (LACC)</li> <li>Maina Bal Bikash Samiti</li> <li>Nagarik Aawaz (NA)</li> <li>National Alliance of Women Human Rights Defenders</li> <li>National Network of Disabled Conflict Victims (NNDCV)</li> <li>Nepal Forum for Restorative Justice</li> <li>Tarangini Foundation</li> <li>The Story Kitchen</li> <li>Voices of Women Media (VOW Media)</li></ol>Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/justice-delayed-justice-denied/">Human Rights Watch, said in a statement issued jointly with Amnesty International, the International Commission of Jurists and TRIAL International</a> on 21 November: ‘State officials’ reluctance to investigate and prosecute such serious crimes has exacerbated the suffering of victims, undermined the rule of law in post-conflict Nepal, and increased the risk of such violations in the future.’She went on to warn: ‘If justice is continually denied in Nepal, perpetrators of these international crimes committed during the conflict will be prosecuted abroad under international jurisdiction.’Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/toothless-commissions/">Toothless commissions</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/rocky-transition-to-justice/">Rocky transition to justice</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/its-a-crime-not-to-call-it-terrorism/">It’s a crime not to call it terrorism</a>, Kunda Dixit

Nepal Speaker’s IPU trip slammed

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d141e9c7e80680e0a9960jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="700" height="490"/><figcaption>The then Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala and rebel leader 'Prachanda' Pushpa Kamal Dahal signing the Comprehensive Peace Agreement in Kathmandu on 21 November 2006. Photo: SAGAR SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>The headlines for the past month have all been about the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/what-is-happening-to-nepals-supreme-court/">Supreme Court</a>, and whether or not Chief Justice Cholendra SJB Rana should be <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-lawyers-on-warpath-against-chief-justice/">impeached, or resign</a>, over past naughtiness.The controversy goes to the heart of Nepal’s governance failure and the erosion of the rule of law. Politicians have tampered with the doctrine of the separation of powers, and politically appointed justices have returned the favour.But there was a larger lapse of justice that went virtually unnoticed this week. It has been exactly 15 years after the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/justice-delayed-justice-denied-transitional-justice,3556">Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA)</a> was signed on 21 November 2006 between the Maoist commander Prachanda and Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala of the Nepali Congress (NC).As per the provisions of the CPA, two commissions to investigate the disappeared and for truth and reconciliation were to be set up and given two years to do their job. This being Nepal, it took a full ten years for the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/truth-about-truth-commission,3565">Truth and Reconciliation Commission</a> (TRC) and the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Who-doesn-want-a-TRC,2042">Commission on the Investigation of Enforced Disappearances (CIED)</a> to start their work.The United Nations, Nepal’s Western partners and international human rights watchdog groups were the driving force behind the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2014/08/18/justice-under-threat/">transitional justice process</a>, and if it was not for them it would have been unlikely that the country’s 14 prime ministers since 2006 would have made any moves to rake up wartime excesses.The rationale behind <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/truth-and-justice-for-relatives-of-murdered-and-disappeared,2122">transitional justice</a> is that until survivors and families of victims find truth and justice, there will be no closure, residual revenge will poison societal relations, and there will be a danger of the country slipping back into violent conflict.Justice denied also <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/Justice-in-transition,458">promotes impunity</a> in other arenas of national politics, as we see today. It is also important to keep the memory of the conflict years alive, and document the untold death and suffering it caused. Nepalis have to be reminded not to forget.Yet, memories fade, time moves on, people drift into everyday routines and try to get on with their lives. Transitional justice would have at least helped heal the loss for families of the victims, provided society with closure, and perpetrators of war crimes a chance for atonement.But, as with all other spheres of national life, the transitional justice mechanisms have been politcised from the word go. The leadership of the Maoist, NC and to a lesser degree the UML, all colluded to appoint yes men to the TRC and the CIED, extending their mandates over and over again with no hearings, trials or verdicts against those involved in heinous crimes.The toothless commissions collected tens of thousands of testimonies from families of victims and survivors, but the files are all mothballed in steel cabinets in their offices. Meanwhile, in the past 15 years, there has been plenty of lip service, blame game, scapegoating and tokenism. The two commissions have actually been used by politicians to prevent cases from moving through the regular courts.In fact, on the 15th anniversary of the CPA, Prachanda who has gone back to his peacetime name of Pushpa Kamal Dahal, vowed to complete the transitional justice process. In a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/justice-delayed-justice-denied/">statement</a> on 21 November and an English <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/columns/2021/11/20/the-nepali-peace-process-as-a-global-model">op-ed in The Kathmandu Post</a>, he termed Nepal’s peace process a ‘successful homegrown model’ for other post-conflict countries.‘Although the conflict was brought to an end, the task of investigating events that occurred during the war and to provide victims with transitional justice remains,’ Dahal said in his <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/justice-delayed-justice-denied/">statement</a>. ‘We are proud of what the revolution achieved, but we will probe wartime excesses.’The fact that most other political leaders did not even bother to acknowledge the CPA anniversary showed that Dahal knows the sword of justice hangs over his head. With Western backing for the transitional process not as vigorous as it once was, he knows he just has to keep on saying the right things.The CPA pledged to ‘investigate human rights violations and those involved in crimes against humanity’. With every year that goes by, it looks less and less likely that will happen. There are still more than <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16267#.YZxyclVBypo">2,000 people listed as missing</a>, and some of their families have waited two decades already to know whether they are dead or alive, or what happened to them.Many <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/1,334,3287">families of the disappeared</a> interviewed by this newspaper have said finding out the truth is more important than justice. This could also mean they do not expect the state to persecute known perpetrators, so they do not even ask for justice. But their anguish is heightened when they see war criminals in senior leadership positions, who never had to answer for their crimes.As Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/justice-delayed-justice-denied/">Human Rights Watch, said in a statement issued jointly with Amnesty International, the International Commission of Jurists and TRIAL International</a> on 21 November: ‘State officials’ reluctance to investigate and prosecute such serious crimes has exacerbated the suffering of victims, undermined the rule of law in post-conflict Nepal, and increased the risk of such violations in the future.’She went on to warn: ‘If justice is continually denied in Nepal, perpetrators of these international crimes committed during the conflict will be prosecuted abroad under international jurisdiction.’

Toothless Commissions

<figure><img width="640" height="426" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d14089c7e80680e0a9958jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: Jan Møller Hansen</figcaption></figure>Nearly an entire generation of Nepali youth has grown up following the Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA) that was signed on 21 November 2006, and which brought the Maoist insurgency to an end.
The accord marked the entry of the Maoists into democratic politics, effectively ending the war. But thousands of families of those killed, maimed or disappeared still <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/12-years-later-justice-is-a-mirage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wait for truth and justice</a>.
Signed 15 years ago on this day, the CPA pledged to ‘Investigate human rights violations and those involved in crimes against humanity’.
But 14 prime ministers later, the whereabouts of nearly 2,000 people who went missing during the war remains unknown. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-runs-out-of-excuses-to-address-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Conflict-era survivors</a> of torture, abuse, rape and families of those killed continue to wait for justice all these years later.
“State officials' reluctance to investigate and prosecute such serious crimes has exacerbated the suffering of victims, undermined the rule of law in post-conflict Nepal, and increased the risk of such violations in the future," says Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at Human Rights Watch.
In 2015, the government formed the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/truth-about-truth-commission,3565" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Truth and Reconciliation Commission</a> and the Commission to Investigate Enforced Disappearances. Both received more than 60,000 complaints but not a single investigation has been resolved, said four rights organisations in a statement released on the anniversary of the CPA agreement.
Rather, the two commissions are being used as a pretext to prevent cases from moving through the regular courts. 
The current 5-party coalition government includes former enemies in the conflict: the Nepali Congress and the Maoists. Critics have said there is an unspoken agreement between them to delay the transitional justice process since so many of their senior leaders could be considered culpable for war crimes.
It was perhaps to deflect criticism from human rights groups and international watchdogs that Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal (who was known by his nom de guerre 'Prachanda' during the conflict) issued a statement on 21 November, saying that his party was committed to meet the obligations under the CPA on justice for wartime excesses.
'Although the conflict was brought to an end, the task of investigating events that occurred during the war and to provide victims with transitional justice remains,' Dahal said <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/126682" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">in the statement</a>, which was also published in English in The Kathmandu Post on Sunday. 'We are proud of what the revolution achieved, but we will probe and bring out wartime excesses.'
Amnesty International, the International Commission of Jurists, Human Rights Watch and TRIAL International issued a joint press release on Sunday stating that the promises made in the agreement have not yet been fulfilled 15 years later, there has been no progress in providing justice for the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-must-reboot-human-rights-rule-of-law/" target="_blank" style="letter-spacing: 0.01em;" rel="noopener noreferrer">crimes and other offenses</a> committed against international law. 
“Nepal's transitional commissions have not been able to achieve anything in the last six years. These commissions have long since lost the trust of the victims,” says Mandira Sharma, Senior International Legal Adviser to the ICJ.
The commissions also drew much criticism for a clause that recommended <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/just-not-justice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">granting amnesty</a> to those that committed serious crimes under international law. After international pressure, the Supreme Court <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/rights-groups-laud-nepal-supreme-court-ruling/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">issued an order</a> to annul the provision, which the government has since implemented.
The statement from the four international organisations reinforced the Supreme Court's order to amend the law, while urging for timely justice and reparations for the victims. 
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/rocky-transition-to-justice/" target="_blank" style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s delayed transitional justice</a> and multiple cases of the perpetrators being set free by the court have diminished its credibility in the world community. In October 2020, the country was <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-elected-to-2nd-term-at-unhrc/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">elected to the second term at UNHRC</a> (United Nations Human Rights Council) even as it had failed in fulfilling human rights pledges at home, much to the criticism of activists.
All four organisations have called on the Nepal government to set a clear timeline for a reliable <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">transitional justice process</a> with the needs of the victims at the forefront, to begin meaningful consultations with them and to fulfill their legal obligations.
Adds Meenakshi Ganguly of Human Rights Watch: "If justice is continually denied in Nepal, perpetrators of these international crimes committed during the conflict will be prosecuted abroad under international jurisdiction."

Justice delayed, justice denied

<img width="1169" height="747" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08ca9c7e80680e0a603ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The Human Rights Watch (HRW) on Tuesday wrote a letter to Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, urging him to uphold the rights of Nepali citizens and strengthen the rule of law.
Recent <a href="https://www.thelancet.com/action/showPdf?pii=S2214-109X(20)30345-4">reports</a> have revealed that the pandemic has decreased institutional delivery by half, increasing risks of premature birth, stillborn deliveries and newborn deaths, setting back Nepal’s past gains in maternal and child care.
Additionally, reduced family income coupled with prolonged school closures has pushed many Nepali children into labour, with projections that half of the girl students may not rejoin schools once they <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/half-of-nepals-girls-may-drop-out-of-school/">reopen</a>. Child marriages are on the rise.
“The new government should take measures to safeguard and continue progress on health and education, including through assistance for households whose livelihoods have been devastated by the pandemic,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “Safety nets are critical for ensuring that crises do not prevent children from continuing their education or harm progress on reducing child marriage and child labour.” 
The letter paid special attention to pressing human rights issues pertaining to Nepal’s failures in addressing war crime and transitional justice.
In 2015, Nepal formed the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and the Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons. A year before that in 2014, the Supreme Court scrapped provisions in the transitional justice law that allows amnesty for offences including torture, murder, and enforced disappearance during Nepal’s armed conflict. The law has not been revised.
Successive governments have stopped conflict-era cases from being heard in regular courts citing the supposed transitional justice process, even as victim groups and Nepali human rights organisations have long questioned its credibility. 
But their protests seem to have fallen on deaf ears, one of Deuba’s first acts in office was to extend the terms of transitional justice commissioners by another year.
“Successive governments have stalled on delivering justice to victims for the many grave cases of abuse, preferring to protect the abusers instead,” adds Ganguly. “As a result, abuses continue while principles of accountability, the rule of law, and the independence of institutions have been eroded, with negative consequences for everyone in society.”
Nepal has made little progress in investigations of human rights violations at home despite being re-elected as a member of the United Nations Human Rights Council. This has had a corrosive impact on wider principles of accountability and the integrity of institutions.
Of late, Nepal has seen a marked increase in alleged extra-judicial killings, custodial deaths allegedly from torture, and the excessive use of lethal force against protesters. In fact, the NHRC in October 2020 published a list of 286 suspects of serious crimes that included law enforcement officials, military personnel, and former Maoist insurgents that police had refused to investigate.
A culture of impunity has undermined the rule of law, there is no accountability for abuses of power. Instead, they continue to climb up the bureaucratic ladder, like the promotion of a police officer alleged to be involved in the extra-judicial killing of two men in August 2018. 
Justice and relief for survivors of sexual violence during the conflict is even more difficult to come by. On the other hand, families of six young Dalit men murdered in Rukum in May 2020 —among the deadliest instances of caste-based killings in Nepal, still await justice. Those linked to the death of a 12-year-old girl forced to marry her rapist in May 2020 have yet to be held accountable.
The HRW has also called on the Deuba government to reverse appointments made to independent institutions like NHRC and the Election Commission after the Oli government pushed an ordinance amending the law in December 2020 to allow only three members of the Council to make appointments.
There are numerous other pending challenges such as the 2006 Citizenship Act, provisions in the 2015 Constitution, and a draft citizenship bill that limits women’s ability to transmit citizenship through marriage. The bill is similarly discriminatory against Nepal’s transgender people.
The HRW also opposed restrictions on the freedom of religion, rights to peaceful assembly, expression, and association of Tibetan refugees in Nepal who have fled Chinese persecution.
Says Ganguly: “Prime Minister Deuba faces many pressing problems, but he also has an opportunity to craft a positive legacy. Meanwhile, Nepal’s international development partners should press the government for measurable action on accountability if they hope to achieve change.”

Nepal must work on human rights

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc489c7e80680e08bc14jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="452"/><figcaption>A narrow ridge that served as a helipad in Kalikot district back in 2004 when the Maoist War was on its peak. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>Twenty-five years after the Maoist insurgency started on 13 February 1996, journalists who covered that war remember their own experiences reporting on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/end-of-war-is-not-peace/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the conflict</a>.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc4b9c7e80680e08bc15jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="467"><figcaption>One of the many ruins left behind by a decade long Maoist War 1996-2006.</figcaption></figure>Shivering with fearWe reached Pandusen of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15778#.YCx9Si2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bajura district</a> in September 2003. Men were ploughing a terrace with two oxen and sowing wheat. We took out our camera and tripod. But when the men saw us, they fled. Later one of them told us, “We are afraid of strangers. We thought you were soldiers.” He told us the army had come through and killed six people in the village, including Padam Bahadur Shahi.At Padam Bahadur’s house, relatives were in mourning. “He had gone to harvest paddy, he had done nothing wrong, ” his mother Koila told us, weeping. “They brought him here and hit him with rocks.”Padam’s father Gorakh Bahadur said the soldiers even kicked their baby grandson, injuring him. “They led my son away and I followed,” he told us. “They were beating him all the way, his teeth were scattered across the road, he was bleeding.”We climbed up the trail to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2027#.YCx9Ty2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Martadi</a>. Within half-an-hour we were at Ramlal Damai’s house. He had been killed with a bullet in his head, and his relatives were wailing as they removed his body from the house. Further up in the village of Angaupani, we came across a whole village in mourning for six men who had been killed by soldiers the previous day.We reached Kolti airfield where 12 police had recently been killed. Nearby, the army had killed another 10 villagers accusing them of being Maoists. A couple was in shock after their children aged 10 and five were killed after a Maoist pipe bomb they found in the forest exploded. All around us there was nothing but death and destruction.A year later, I went to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/a-battered-future,3218" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kailali</a> and Bardia which had the highest number of disappeared during the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">conflict</a>. Their relatives are still waiting for truth and justice.In war, people take to guns. But ultimately it is the gun that takes people away.Mohan Mainali<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc4e9c7e80680e08bc16jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="669"><figcaption>A father trying to stop his young son who had decided to join the Maoists. Khotang 2004.</figcaption></figure>Families torn apartIn February 2000, we travelled to the Maoist heartland of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12393#.YCx-nC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rolpa</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6164#.YCx-vC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rukum</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2928#.YCx-yC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jajarkot</a>. Along the way, we noticed police sentry posts located on treetops for safety. The policemen were playing carom with guns slung on their shoulders. We knew we were entering a war zone. In Libang, we visited Maoist prisoners in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-spark-that-lit-the-Maoist-revolution,2870" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rolpa</a> district jail. They spoke about being innocent, framed and tortured by the police. We interviewed a Maoist leader, Lokendra Bista. He told us the revolution was actually in response to state violence, but he said the resolution of the conflict was only possible through dialogue, not through violence.In Khalanga of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=328#.YCx-ty2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rukum</a>, there was also a lot of fear. Many who had been driven out or tortured by the Maoists had fled to the district headquarters for safety. We came across children cooking by themselves. One 11-year-old was kneading dough, but he wept as he told us: “The police killed our father and mother, I feel like drinking the blood from their hearts.”Four years later, we went to eastern Nepal. By this time, the army had joined <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10616#.YCx-lC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the war</a> and Maoist influence had spread throughout the country. One indelible memory of that time was the farewell of a distraught father in Chisapani of Khotang for his ninth grader student son, Kiran Bista.In the video, the father clutches the boy’s legs and does not want to let go. The boy tries to placate his father: “Don’t do this, Dad. My friends all have fathers. We are all going to war, please don’t do this.”A confident speaker, Kiran later told us later on camera: “I am joining out of my own free will because I have understood that we have to fight for our country.”When we got to Mugu, local Maoists detained us for 22 hours. But it was not till we got to Mudbara of Doti that we found out just how badly the war had affected children. The army had attacked a school in September 2004 after they found out the Maoists had gone there to recruit. Six of the Maoists were killed, but so were four students.“I didn’t even know I had been hit, I was unconscious when they took me to hospital,” said one student Dharma Bhurtel. Her mother, Krishna Maya, broke down as she told us of the pain at seeing her only daughter wounded.Bishnu Prasad was hiding inside a classroom with other students, when soldiers kicked the door in and started shooting. He was hit, and paralysed. “I like to go to school, but I cannot walk now.”Teachers were on the frontlines of the war, and nearly 220 of them were killed by both sides. “After the war started, we were caught in the crossfire. Whichever side fires the guns it is us teachers who get killed,” Ram Bahadur Raut principal of the Chisapani Secondary School in Khotang told us then.Dhruba Basnet<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc529c7e80680e08bc17jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="518"><figcaption>Many Maoist cadre associated carrying guns with being powerful and empowered.</figcaption></figure>Power of the gun<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12319#.YCx_3C2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Children</a> would follow us everywhere. They were very loyal to the Maoist party. Even 10-year-old <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13190#.YCx_5i2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">children</a> had been so effectively brainwashed that they would speak in Maoist jargon, saying “When the revolution is successful, we will be also be rich and powerful.” And they believed it.We went to homes, and heard families talk about the fear of both the police and guerrillas. The Maoists had ordered every household to contribute at least one person to attend their revolutionary meetings and listen to speeches. We attended those cultural programs, as well. The Maoists cadre were full of enthusiasm and energy, <a href="https://www.google.com/url?client=internal-element-cse&amp;cx=bead8272edd0f2143&amp;q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/still-singing-and-dancing/&amp;sa=U&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiYw6ix8O_uAhUy83MBHRiACWYQFjAAegQIBhAC&amp;usg=AOvVaw06kcWD1ctXQGTrve9YQNmE" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">singing and performing revolutionary dances</a> about the liberation of the proletariat. Villagers watched with interest, but there was fear in their eyes.The armed Maoists looked like they were really empowered. I asked some of them how it felt to be carrying a gun? They used to reply: “I feel powerful, now no one can do anything to me.”Amrita Lamsalhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzHLTaNnSDo&amp;feature=youtu.beThe smell of fearIn October 2004, we took a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1890#.YCybTI8zbAU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">helicopter from Surkhet to Kalikot</a>, flying over the mountains of Dailekh and the Karnali River. On the left we could see Kotbada, where a year previously the Royal Nepal Army had <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/02/13/tears-of-joy-and-sorrow-in-kalikot/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">killed 36 workers building an airfield</a>, mistaking them to be Maoist guerrillas. We were in the heart of the conflict zone to understand how the war was affecting ordinary people in the Karnali.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_219.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kalikot was remote then</a>, as the highway was still being built. At the end of the first day’s walk in Pili, we saw small children slither down from tree tops and scamper off to the village. We found out they were Maoist ‘wholetimers’ on sentry duty.The local Maoists held a village gathering that evening and paraded us on the stage, accusing us of being military spies and “royal mongrels”. The language they used during interrogation that night was straight out of the Khmer Rouge. Two years later, 55 soldiers were killed in a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=721#.YCyBmi2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist attack in Pili</a>.Finally let off the next day, we were detained again in Jubitha by 12-13 year-olds with guns. They could not read, and held our press passes upside down. “We are now in the armed struggle phase of our revolution,” said one youngster.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc559c7e80680e08bc18jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="467"><figcaption>Comrade Mukti in Kalikot in 2004.</figcaption></figure>Along the trail, we passed a group of women guerrillas who gave us red salutes and gripped us in firm handshakes. It was a surprise to see such empowered young women in what was at that time, a part of western Nepal most steeped in patriarchy.As we got closer to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/No-peace,432" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jumla</a> amidst the spectacular scenery of golden terraces of ripening paddy, the blue-green Tila River and the snow-capped Kanjiroba in the distance, there were signs of war damage. Ruins of destroyed homes, charred buildings, empty silent streets. There was no laughter from children, they peered at us from behind upstairs windows, no one talked to strangers. You could smell the fear in the air.Kunda Dixit<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc589c7e80680e08bc19jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="362"><figcaption>Baburam Tamang, one of the 18 Maoist cadre massacred in Ramechap in 2003.</figcaption></figure>The National Human Rights Commission was sending a team to investigate the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4639#.YCylnY8zbAU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">massacre of 18 Maoist cadre in Doramba</a> of Ramechhap on 17 August 2003. It included former Chief Justice Krishna Jung Rayamajhi, former Attorney General Bhim Bahadur Bista, forensic physician Harihar Awasti, advocate Hari Phuyal and myself. We reached Doramba 11 days after the killings and found the fresh graves.Local Maoists had gathered at the home of Yubaraj Moktan. The army encircled the house, and those who could, escaped. The others were rounded up, and were led off up towards the Sailung forest with hands tied behind their backs. The army unit was led by Major Ram Mani Pokhrel. Down in the village, people heard calls for help, and then gunshots.The villagers helped us exhume the bodies, and Harihar Awasti went down to examine them one by one. He would dictate the details, which I noted down and shared with Hari Phuyal. The stench of rotting bodies was overpowering. Villagers would recognise the faces, and point to them, saying: “That is Bishnu Maya. That is Lila.” Most had been shot at point blank range in the forehead.A young man handed me a 35mm film roll. We developed it, and found images of the bodies had been thrown over the edge after being killed. And there was a photograph of a local man named <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18623" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Baburam Tamang</a>, the only one without a gunshot in the forehead, but in the arm. It looked like he had bled to death.Villagers told us that night they had heard someone up the mountain call out for help “Ama, ama.” But they were too afraid to go up and check. We think it was a dying Baburam Tamang.The villagers had later buried the bodies, wrapping them in cloth and flag. Nearby was a pile of half-burnt personal effects of those who had been killed. Among them, I found a notepad belonging to Bishnu Maya Thapa Magar, one of those who had been killed.Kanak Mani Dixit

From the frontlines of Nepal’s war

<figure><img width="1815" height="1017" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2849c7e80680e08f914jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: KANAK MANI DIXIT/TWITTER</figcaption></figure>A mother who is on the 25th day of a hunger strike in Kathmandu <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Maoist-hungry-ghosts,3261">demanding justice</a> against the murderers of her son during the Maoist conflict is in critical condition, doctors and human rights activists say.
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/hunger-for-justice/">Ganga Maya Adhikari</a> started her latest hunger strike on 21 December 2020 on the 7th floor ward of the Trauma Centre, and has not taken any food or water since. She is receiving intravenous fluids, and her condition has deteriorated.
Her son, Krishna Adhikari was kidnapped, tortured and killed in June 2004 by the Maoists in Chitwan who accused him of being a spy. Those allegedly behind the murder have been set free by the courts.
“Ganga Maya is on strike because she has abandoned any hope for justice from this government, which has insulted her struggle,” said human rights activist Charan Prasai, who was among artists, lawyers, and rights activists at a sit-in outside the hospital on Thursday.
Doctors at the Trauma Centre said Ganga Maya’s health was deteriorating fast, and she needed intensive care because it was now a question of life-or-death.    
After the Comprehensive Peace Accord, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/ganga-mayas-endless-road-to-justice/">repeated attempts by Ganga Maya and her husband</a> Nanda Prasad to get justice failed, and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/The-deadline/sad-saga-of-adhikari-family,367">the couple came to Kathmandu</a> to protest when former Maoist ideologue <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/The-deadline/sad-saga-of-adhikari-family,367">Baburam Bhattarai</a> was prime minister in 2012.
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/ganga-mayas-endless-road-to-justice/">Nanda Prasad died seven years ago</a> in Bir Hospital after a year-long fast, and his <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dead-and-dying,3955">body is still in the morgue</a> at the Teaching Hospital since Ganga Maya has refused to cremate him until the guilty are punished.
Krishna Adhikari had just finished his SLC exam when a group of Maoists put him in a sack and dragged him behind a motorcycle in Chitwan. After the conflict, the couple lodged a complaint with Chitwan police, naming 13 people who they said were involved.
The 13 were charged, but the Chitwan District Court ordered their release on bail. A year later, the appellate court in Hetauda upheld the bail decision. The Supreme Court then ruled on an appeal by Ganga Maya in 2015 to put Chhabilal Poudel, the main accused, in judicial custody, but when he did not surrender the couple went on another hunger strike until he was re-arrested. 
But in 2019, the Chitwan District Court acquitted all the accused except one. Ganga Maya appealed again, but no further hearings have been held.
Doctors attending to Ganga Maya said she had told them that she had no reason to live anymore because she had no hope left for justice, her husband was dead, and her elder son had been jailed on trumped up charges.

Mother on 25th day of hunger strike

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8b39c7e80680e087876jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1760" height="1054"/><figcaption>Representatives of the civil society staging demonstration at Maitighar Mandala, Kathmandu. Photo: NEPALI TIMES/ARCHIVE</figcaption></figure>Amidst growing concerns over a shrinking civic space, Nepal’s civil society, especially rights-based organisations continue to play an integral role by complementing, consulting, or challenging the government vis-à-vis international law.Sustained efforts by non-government organizations (NGOs) over a decade, led to the ratification of the UN Protocol against Human Trafficking, to Prevent, Suppress and Punish Trafficking in Persons, especially Women and Children in June 2020.Their relentless work which generated local level evidence and data was as significant as political will in making this critical shift possible. The existing laws on human trafficking will be amended to punish trafficking to Nepal.Developments in international criminal law reveal a new pivot, where NGOs are increasingly becoming prominent on the international plane. International criminal trials warrant domestic support, especially from NGOs to create a conducive environment for investigations and institutionalisation of justice.A precedence was established by the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia in the early nineties, when it worked with the broader civil society for local information, testimonies, and evidence. Its successor, the UN Court for International Residual Mechanisms for Criminal Tribunals, continues to engage with NGOs to forge lasting peace in the Balkans.The International Criminal Court (ICC) has institutionalised its relationship with NGOs with due acknowledgement of their capacity to assist or obstruct trials. NGOs can prompt investigations by submitting situation reports to ICC’s prosecutors. The ongoing investigations on crimes against humanity, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Uganda, and Myanmar stand as evidence of this.Investigators and prosecutors from foreign countries rely on NGOs for local knowledge, expertise, and access to key sources, to further such trials. State entities such as the police may face constrains to cooperate, given the politically-sensitive nature of such investigations.NGOs therefore become <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/Transboundary-jurisdiction,27" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">critical in documenting, collecting, and verifying</a> information and evidence. In the ICC system, Coalition for the ICC, a group of NGOs from 150 States, have observer status in the annual Assembly of State Parties, the Court’s governing and oversight body.Nepali NGOs have the potential to emerge as salient actors in national and international criminal justice system. The closed case of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/The-gadfly/truth-and-reconciliation-with-justice,440" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Colonel Kumar Lama</a> who was indicted for torture before a court in the UK and eventually released on mistrial, provides important insights.The government refused to cooperate, which led to the legal teams in the UK to seek unofficial Nepali sources for evidence. Lawyers involved in the case questioned the integrity of evidence gathered by a local NGO which lacked expertise to document, catalogue, and preserve evidence according to UK’s standards. Similar outcomes could happen again, given the sluggishness of Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/12-years-later-justice-is-a-mirage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">transitional justice mechanisms</a>.Investments in NGOs should be recalibrated to empower them to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/geneva-or-the-hague/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bring the perpetrators to justice</a> while ensuring innocents are not wrongfully convicted on foreign territory. Trainings in domestic evidence law will be foundational while orienting NGOs in certified, user-friendly digital tools for documenting, collecting, and preserving evidence.Additionally, while international criminal tribunals do not have homogenous standards to provide evidence, making NGOs familiar with ICC’s distinct framework may prove effective in the long run. It is also imperative to fortify the institutional memory of NGOs to sustain this exercise. This can be attained by prioritising wholesome institutional learning over isolated, individual expertise.Nonetheless, NGOs should function well within their mandate and not strive to emulate or replace State functions. The primary objective of acquiring these competencies is to complement, and not challenge state functions of maintaining peace and rule of law.For instance, resource-strained police will benefit from timely and reliable access to information gathered according to domestic law. Should there be an international probe on past or future irregularities, a competent civil society will share the State’s burden in providing answers, while truth and reconciliation can endure through the work of NGOs at the community-level.Only when the State is unable or unwilling to discharge its duties, will NGOs exclusively serve as focal contacts for the international community in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/tortures-go-unprosecuted-in-nepal-despite-laws/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">holding the state accountable</a>.Access of the international community to local NGOs and vice-versa, has opened a new vista for both parties. This symbiotic relationship should be explored by Nepali NGOs to galvanize efforts in upholding law and justice.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-rome-statute-and-the-hague/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nischala Arjal</a> is a lawyer with specialisation in public international law.

Nepal’s rights groups must step up

Born in Khandbari in eastern Nepal, Parashuram Pathak helped his family around the farm, sold what they grew in the market and lent a hand in the kitchen.&nbsp; After working as a chef in Dubai, San Francisco, Denmark, Australia, and on cruise ships, Pathak has now brought back what he has learnt to the Tusa Restaurant in Bhaktapur that opened on Nepali New Year on 13 April. Tusa uses fresh indigenous ingredients from various parts of Nepal, and fuses them with international methods to produce unique dishes. Pathak is a global Nepali, and is introducing global Nepali cuisine to his homeland. Pathak left an executive chef job to intern at three-Michelin-starred Noma in Denmark, named the best restaurant in the world five times. Noma runs on a philosophy of foraging to rediscover wild local ingredients, and Tusa’s mission is similarly noble: preparing dishes with Nepali ingredients using modern techniques and equipment. “We are taking Nepali food beyond dal-bhat and momo, we are taking it international,” Pathak said on the phone from Sydney. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-baker-rises-to-the-top-in-denmark">Denmark’s best baker is a Nepali</a>, Vishad Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_1312bc016cbb2fe59c6d4a78d1f8b463af4a10b3f79559a2405fd54ea5b3197a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240419180424_1312bc016cbb2fe59c6d4a78d1f8b463af4a10b3f79559a2405fd54ea5b3197a" data-rendition-name="original" width="801" height="802" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> <figcaption>Photo: PARASHURAM PATHAK/FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  Pathak’s team in Nepal includes chefs Rupesh Bohara and Sagar Shrestha who have also worked extensively in Dubai and Australia, and share his vision. The three realised they shared the same dream, and over the past five years have travelled across Nepal to research their menu, collecting ingredients and ideas from homestays, food carts, and nature. The team then scouted for Nepal’s best architect, and zeroed in on Bhaktapur-based heritage conservationist Rabindra Puri who designed the Malla-era house for Tusa in the Nag Pokhari neighbourhood. Bohara and Shrestha have moved back to Nepal for good, and Pathak arrives in September. “I made dishes from all over the world, but when someone asked what Nepali food was like, I had no answer,” says Bohara, “I came back to find out.” &nbsp;“You can get citizenship, a green card, big houses and cars, but where is the self-satisfaction?” asks Shrestha, who has a red-and-blue chef’s knife with the sun and moon of the Nepali flag tattooed on his right forearm.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/the-return-of-a-master-baker"> The return of a master baker</a>, Raju Pakhrin  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_c601264463e5a28d4e71a46781f340a53619a08d00949a7aaebfef84e75a319d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240419180424_c601264463e5a28d4e71a46781f340a53619a08d00949a7aaebfef84e75a319d" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> <figcaption>Photos: TUSA</figcaption> </figure>  Bohara and Shrestha passionately recount stories of their trips across Nepal, speaking of generous lodge owners who introduced them to local ingredients. Tusa can seat 28, and dining here is a sensory experience with a live kitchen. The chefs cook and place dishes on a large granite countertop with induction sections built in. Behind the counter is a grill on an indoor fire with pulley control to adjust the fire. Everything that can be made in Nepal — chairs and tables, ceramic dishes, the grill — is locally sourced. The executive kitchen/laboratory is downstairs. It is spacious, spotless, and contains appliances rarely seen in restaurants here: a sous vide machine that cooks vacuum-sealed packets at consistent temperatures, and a dehydrator for sisnu nettles. A fresh batch of deep purple kimbu (mulberry) muffins has just come out of the oven. Fridges have dry-aged fish and marigold kombucha. Fermentation seems to be the theme at Tusa, and Pathak explained: “Fermentation takes away the natural sugars in food, leaving behind a true, umami taste.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/vikings-khukri-passion">Viking's khukri passion</a>, Alisha Sijapati  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_c59e2b4230864f646bc36108adb951e95ec85da6156740294b1ec715b86acf89.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240419180424_c59e2b4230864f646bc36108adb951e95ec85da6156740294b1ec715b86acf89" data-rendition-name="original" width="5895" height="3930" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> </figure>  Tusa itself means ‘shoot’ in Nepali, and can be a dish of fermented bamboo shoots. The restaurant serves a tasting menu with six courses, plus surprises. It starts with a fermented potato and millet roti with charred green garlic and tomato chutney. The bread tastes like a mix of alu paratha and kodoko roti with a satisfying, mild flavour. The chefs do not show off, and overdo it. Dishes are tastefully simple and faithful, a theme that runs through the meal. The second course is a filet of fish charred on one side and placed in a broth. It is delicate and smokey, and does not mask the character of the fish.&nbsp; The next is Batuk Chukauni, a Magar dish with a lentil snack and a yoghurt-based potato achar. The batuk, made of lentil batter, is light and the chukauni has potatoes and peas. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/money-is-not-everything-but-you-need-money-for-everything">"Money is not everything, but you need money for everything"</a>, Rohit Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_e3f51228ff792e8d4297f81f8e67d138584e922ae035d131977494219e5e85c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240419180424_e3f51228ff792e8d4297f81f8e67d138584e922ae035d131977494219e5e85c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> <figcaption>Batuk Chukauni. Photo: VISHAD ONTA</figcaption> </figure>  Next is a skewer of jackfruit with a tamarind and mustard glaze that has the texture of a slice of sausage and melts in the mouth. Then comes the first off-menu item: a steak of watermelon, glazed and grilled, tasting sweet, sour and smokey. After that a palate cleanser sorbet made with laligurans syrup adorned with a frozen candied rhododendron petal. Finally the main course: barbeque chicken and chyakla coarse corn grits. The chicken has been brined, marinated, cooked sous-vide and seared on the grill. The delicate consistency of the chicken stands out. Desert is a smooth, creamy cheesecake that uses the local juju-dhau yoghurt. And the last course is a moist, moss-green sisnu cake laced with mulberry jam and cream.&nbsp; There is nothing gimmicky about Tusa. It is the coming together of skilled Nepalis with international exposure who have mixed what they have learnt abroad with the flavours of home.&nbsp; The tasting menu is Rs3,500, and it may take some time before Nepalis develop a predilection for some of its items. The chefs are excited, vindicated, and relieved. Coming back to Nepal, uprooting successful careers abroad to take a chance on Nepal must not have been easy.&nbsp; Tusa had a soft launch on New Year’s day with Kathmandu-based diplomats. Australian Ambassador Felicity Volk was one of them, and wrote on a Facebook post: ‘Chefs who honed their skills in Australia and returned to Nepal to give back. We call it fine dining, they call it #cominghome.’ Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-baker-of-barpak">The baker of Barpak</a>, Tara Aryal Pandey

The return of the natives

For a year or two after the 25 April 2015 earthquake, the residents of Kathmandu were too terrified to return to their high-rise apartments. None of them collapsed in the 7.8 disaster, but many sustained serious structural damage. &nbsp;
Fast forward nine years, and they have all but forgotten that frightful day. Kathmandu is back to building substandard structures, even as land prices drive developers to build taller.&nbsp;
With no more space to spread horizontally, Kathmandu is going vertical. But structural engineers say most of the high rises do not take into account seismicity, soil condition, construction methods, quality of raw materials, fire hazard, and search and rescue in collapsed concrete structures.
“Much of our focus since the 2015 earthquake has been on building and construction, but not as much on where we are building,” warns Sangeeta Singh, Professor of Urban Planning and Deputy Director of Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">In a disastrous state</a>, Sonia Awale
She adds: “Kathmandu is not really suited for high-rises. We have to first test the condition of the soil, but building permits are being issued without this fundamental step.”
Kathmandu Valley is a former lakebed with soft topsoil prone to liquefaction and excessive shaking, as seen during the 1934 megaquake. Many ruptures tore up the surface in 2015. &nbsp;
During an earthquake, the rock layers below Kathmandu ring like a bell and the vibrations on the surface take between 0.5 to 2 seconds for one oscillation. Buildings also vibrate, but at different frequencies depending on their height, construction material, and arrangement of their structural components.
At five floors, the vibration period of a building is 0.5 seconds, which is the same as that for Kathmandu Valley, and this could cause more damage, says structural engineer Surya Narayan Shrestha at the National Society for Earthquake Technology - Nepal (NSET).
“Building anything that is five storeys or higher in Kathmandu needs special design and structural considerations,” says Shrestha.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/shaking-things-up">Shaking things up</a>, Editorial
Technologies exist to reduce seismic risk in high-rises, and these are used in earthquake-prone cities like Tokyo, Los Angeles, Jakarta or Mexico City.&nbsp;
Base isolation, for example, separates the vibration of the land and the building, reducing damage from soil-building resonance. Base isolators move and stretch under pressure, absorbing much of an earthquake's impact by reducing swaying and shaking. &nbsp;
Seismic dampers change the pattern of vibration altogether, dissipating energy as vibrations move across a structure. But these are all expensive technologies, and none of the high-rises in Kathmandu use them.
However, Nepali engineers who can help with technology transfer are working in the field in Nepal and overseas. Kathmandu’s high-rises are already very expensive, and making them seismic-resistant would be an incremental cost.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/learning-from-jajarkot-what-we-didnt-after-2015-695vpzle">Learning from Jajarkot what we didn't after 2015</a>, Sushil Gyewali
The shape of high-rises also matters. Reinforced concrete buildings with asymmetric designs of the kind that are seen in newer structures in Kathmandu experience more torsion and shear during quakes. High-rises with regular geometry are stronger. &nbsp;&nbsp;
An even bigger concern is that of emergency evacuation and rescue in case of fire or earthquake. Kathmandu fire services do not have ladders that reach the higher floors of most new structures.
“High-rises mean more people and potentially higher casualties,” explains Shrestha. “We need immediate evacuation routes, fire escapes, emergency ladders, and fire trucks that can reach higher. Right now, safety features are voluntary and not mandatory.”
The street access, shelters, open spaces, and evacuation routes are integral to disaster preparedness and the safety of neighbourhoods and not just buildings. Most new high-rises in Kathmandu have narrow access roads.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later">Rebuilding resilience 7 years later</a>, Anil Pokhrel
Since most of the buildings that survived the 2015 disaster were reinforced concrete structures, it fed the misconception that they are safer. But Himalayan seismologists say that if the intensity and duration of the shaking had been just a little higher, many substandard concrete structures would have collapsed.&nbsp;
And that is the final gap: Nepal’s limited expertise and equipment for search and rescue inside collapsed concrete structures. Kathmandu’s high-rises need to be better prepared for the next Big One.
“Structural safety and design were at the front and the centre after the 2015 earthquake, we also revised some building codes but we are back to square one with contractor-driven construction, especially in peri-urban areas,” says Sangeeta Singh, who is also with the National Planning Commission. “We need to monitor construction as much as design.”&nbsp;
Shrestha at NSET agrees there have been improvements in building practices in the past nine years, but adds, “We have both learnt and unlearnt lessons from 2015. The awareness hasn’t yet translated into action on safety.”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">Lessons not learned from 2015</a>, Sonia Awale

The rise of high-rises

Midway along the stretch of the ancient trade route between Tibet and India lies the Kel Tol neighbourhood. The name is derived from the original Koligrām, and it is believed the Koli people, who were originally from Rāmagrām in present-day southern Nepal near the Indian border, settled here. The Koli were the maternal ancestors of none other than the Buddha. Kel Tol is famous for the Buddhist monastic complex of Kanak Chaitya Mahāvihar, featuring the majestic two-tiered gilded temple of the white god Karunāmaya.&nbsp; This elaborately decorated courtyard is a bustling centre of the Vajrayāna sect of Buddhism, practised widely by the indigenous Newā people of Kathmandu Valley. Karunāmaya, also known as Ārya Avalokiteshwor, is defined in great detail in the 1st century CE Buddhist text Sadharmapundarikā where he liberates all sentient beings from suffering. He helps rid the eight external fears metaphorically equated with their equivalent internal states of mind: lions (pride), wild elephants (ignorance), fire (anger), snakes (jealousy), floods (attachment), imprisonment (miserliness), thieves (wrong views) and cannibals (doubt).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_fe370cbee75003cd3eb5dccc7c3b2671630da193b0744db2aeac1bab3ff4a85c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240418130432_fe370cbee75003cd3eb5dccc7c3b2671630da193b0744db2aeac1bab3ff4a85c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1338" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  In the Pancha Rakshyā Sutra, a Buddhist scripture from 200 CE, Ārya Avalokiteshwor was counted among the eight major deities. Followers of the Brāhminical god Shiva worship Ārya Avalokiteshwor as Seto Machhindranāth. For Shaivites, Machhindranāth is the Indian saint who founded the Nāth cult in the 10th century CE. He is the guru of saint Gorakhnāth. During the reign of Yakshya Malla (1428–1482 CE), a beautiful image of Ārya Avalokiteshwor was dug up by a farmer in present-day Jamal, which was then a cultivated area outside the city. The farmer, known as a Jamami (meaning the one from Jamal) took the image home for safekeeping. That night, Ārya Avalokiteshwor appeared in the farmer’s dream and told him that the proper place for him to reside is at the confluence of two rivers. The nearest confluence was at present-day Wongha (Indrachok) and the image was installed in the Kanak Chaitya Mahāvihar complex in Kel Tol near Wongha. This made it easier for city residents to pay homage to Ārya Avalokiteshwor and spread compassion. Soon, the deity came to be revered highly as Jamaleshwor, the one found in Jamal. Eventually, the name got corrupted, as happens often in Nepāl Bhāsā, to Janabahā Dyo. The courtyard where his temple is located is now popularly known as Janabahā.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_5c9b219530e400445ef4e7f64856b43e7cdb756be26d9ed4565c84044c178a7e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240418130432_5c9b219530e400445ef4e7f64856b43e7cdb756be26d9ed4565c84044c178a7e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1668" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  The gilded temple of Janabahā Dyo, first built in the early 16th century CE, is adorned with wooden and metal artefacts that symbolise 108 forms of Ārya Avalokiteshwor. It stands out as the most decorated temple of its kind in Kathmandu. Today, Janabahā is a living heritage site where many ancient customs and rituals are widely practised as per Vajrayāna Buddhist tradition. Devotees throng the Janabahā Dyo shrine for daily worship and to receive Karunāmaya’s blessings. Being the compassionate one, Ārya Avalokiteshwor goes around town every year in his tall wooden chariot to allow sick and physically disabled devotees to pay homage to him from the comfort of their homes. One could say it is a door-to-door visit by the Compassionate One.&nbsp; For the pragmatic minded, the chariot festival is an annual renewal of communal harmony, validation of our ancient mathematical supremacy and demonstration of the need to keep practical skills alive, including the craft of building earthquake resilient houses.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_fc8b234ceca87dee4b99e897a485cef121fb953857fb61492a413fbfcc48360c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240418130432_fc8b234ceca87dee4b99e897a485cef121fb953857fb61492a413fbfcc48360c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  The Janabahā Dyo chariot is pulled from Jamal, where his image was found by the farmer, through the historic heart of Kathmandu in a gala parade every year. The procession, accompanied by folk music ensembles and revellers, starts on the eighth day of the bright half of the month of Chaitra, and lasts up to a week (ending on Saturday this year). Hundreds of devotees pull the chariot along the streets as a way of expressing their gratitude to lord Karunāmaya for blessing them with compassion and well-being. Purna Ratna Vajrāchārya is an ordained priest who belongs to the clan responsible for taking care of Janabahā Dyo. He has been studying the design and architecture of the chariot for the past 40 years, and overseeing its construction for the past 15. He has learnt that the engineering principles of building the chariot are based on the mathematical system in which Buddhism is taught. For example, 365 pieces of wood are used in the chariot, each representing a day of the year. Each of the four wheels consist of 25 pieces of wood, totalling 100, representing completeness or fulfilment. The chariot is vertically divided into 13 sections, a parallel to the Buddhist concept of Trayodashi Bhuvana that describes the 13 steps that one must take to achieve the state of Nirvana.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_36d9964c9845f6d9a074786361fc5ab7d49138503ad162086998b731349b0ec0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240418130432_36d9964c9845f6d9a074786361fc5ab7d49138503ad162086998b731349b0ec0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1668" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_2662753a9514a682ccdfd17bf05e2be3771183a68dc86b717ab67d9aad894563.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240418130432_2662753a9514a682ccdfd17bf05e2be3771183a68dc86b717ab67d9aad894563" data-rendition-name="original" width="1668" height="2500" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  &nbsp;Exactly nine types of wood are used, which is the sum of the four base elements that make up the universe (earth, water, fire and air) and the five human senses. The height and length of the chariot is 32 arm’s length (hāt in Sanskrit), 14.8m. The number 32 represents the maximum number of auspicious and physical qualities one could possess to be considered an outstanding human being.&nbsp; Says Vajrācharya, “Observing how the chariot is built helps one learn the fundamental pillars of the Buddha’s teachings, and find an easier path to Nirvana.” The structural design of the nearly 15m wooden chariot is not only awe-inspiring but also gravity-defying. It leverages the pliancy of the materials used in its construction -- flexible joints tied with cane soaked in water for several days. The precise proportions of the chariot ensure great manoeuverability in the narrow streets along the route of the chariot procession that include some 90° bends, without colliding into houses.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_9f5c2943f5d6b3f0010d3d5213697549945e87a6f7d3d8cbadd69f0dea6c6e2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240418130432_9f5c2943f5d6b3f0010d3d5213697549945e87a6f7d3d8cbadd69f0dea6c6e2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="3750" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  Driving and steering the chariot with brute muscle power of the mirthful crowd is a seemingly impossible task. But this has been achieved year after year, despite the fact that the devotees who tug wildly at the ropes lassoed to the two front wheels, are most likely in high-spirits (pun intended). Sanjay Manandhar, a US-based technology entrepreneur, recounts how his high school physics teacher from Canada asked his students to go observe the locals build the chariots of Karunāmaya if they were interested in becoming engineers in the future.&nbsp; “That made no sense to me then, but, after all these decades, I now see clearly how the structural design of the chariot, adopted early on by our ancestors is full of earthquake-resilient properties that need to be applied in building houses in an earthquake-prone zone like Nepal,” says Manandhar. A highlight of the chariot festival is that human goddess Kumari makes an appearance at the final destination in Lagan, usually on the third day. This is only one of the 13 times that people get to see the Kumari outside her temple abode.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_08aa39f3f004a212b33c60a2840d6013110de15dd34a0288f699dd5fda8957ab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240418130432_08aa39f3f004a212b33c60a2840d6013110de15dd34a0288f699dd5fda8957ab" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  On the last day of the festival (Saturday), the image of lord Karunāmaya is carried on a palanquin by priests from Janabahā in a gala procession and brought back to his permanent residence at the temple in Kel Tol.&nbsp; The chariot festival is thought to have started during the reign of King Pratap Malla of Kantipur in the 17th century CE. For close to four centuries, the construction of the chariot and its operation has proven to be a phenomenal engineering feat, and the people’s faith in divinity means the tradition is alive.&nbsp; The essence of the colourful rituals and the religious beliefs of this ancient chariot festival is now all but lost. The logic, technology and practicality must be brought back to light, as they reflect the high civilisation and wisdom of our ancestors that we can leverage in modern times and into the future. &nbsp; Alok Tuladhar is a culture and heritage documentarian.

Kathmandu’s gravity-defying chariot festival

In the run-up to the third Nepal Investment Summit this weekend, there have been seminars, conferences and workshops where the discourse has revolved around the economy and the investment climate.
The consensus that Nepal needs foreign direct investments (FDI) to grow was repeated, and the familiar litany of reasons about why it has not been able to was discussed.&nbsp;
Policy advocates and regulators have understood that the lack of urgency is compounded by procedural inconsistencies, on top of the already deficient investment environment in the country.
It is a welcome change from what used to be flippantly accepting matters as given. There now seems to be a sense of urgency, with procedural inconsistencies and lack of harmonisation between various Acts and regulations openly discussed.&nbsp;
Government stakeholders also appear more willing to learn and attempt to be part of the solution. Whatever policy changes have been introduced in the past have been piecemeal and address the few rather than the entire industry. This left dual regulatory approaches aimed at similar players.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/killing-investment-in-nepal-in-10-easy-steps">Killing investment in Nepal in 10 easy steps</a>, Dibesh Karmacharya
This time, unlike in the past two Summits, the government seems to be committed to amending 9 Acts, a positive step towards showing commitment to change. However, the deadline to do so during the winter session of Parliament is over. The option mooted has been to have it passed through ordinance, a lesser appealing step; albeit, a positive one moving forward.&nbsp;
To attract FDI in a competitive global market means that Nepal has to demonstrate that it is serious about bringing in investments with a more consultative and collaborative approach with investors. A departure from procedural to a result-oriented focus is needed.&nbsp;
To put issues in perspective, Nepal needs US$20 billion in investments to meet the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG) targets by 2030. If net-zero decarbonisation targets are to be met by 2045, another US$7 billion will be required annually.&nbsp;
Looking at our investment history and poor government capital expenditure, the gap is long and wide. In fiscal year 2022-23 Nepal booked a lamentable ~$59 million in FDI (equity). Nepal is in fact the lowest market in South Asia for FDI with 0.3% of the regional average.&nbsp;
What is it that we can do to fill the gap?&nbsp;
First, we need to move away from the notion that Nepal only needs large investments. This has proven to be a mistake, and time series data have proven that smaller investments, in aggregate, make a larger impact on economies.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/poor-cash-rich-nepal">Poor cash-rich Nepal</a>, Sonia Awale
We talk about an ‘enabling environment’ but without the right tools. We place restrictions on interest on debt ceiling (SOFR +5.5), without risk premium adjustments, we do not have an active secondary market for bond trading, nor do we have a yield curve, an integral part of the bond market, which is inhibiting us from tapping into the trillion dollar green bond market.&nbsp;
In order to attract green financing, Nepal needs to develop its bond market. Sovereign risk rating has been mooted and was expected to be operationalised before the Investment Summit.&nbsp;
However, to be rated in an adverse economic environment could further deteriorate investment potential due to a lesser-than-expected rating.&nbsp;
Hedging is another instrument that needs further research on. A commercial bank last year showcased the first risk-hedging mechanism for an investment of $8 million. This can be the beginning to expand on its modality. &nbsp;
Subordinated debt instruments have been introduced, but on a special nod basis, this now needs to be institutionalised as it is the most applicable form of investment after equity in a market that has volatile forex reserves.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment">Invest in investment</a>, Nepali Times
Viability Gap Funding has been introduced by multilateral development agencies implemented in solar installations. It is a tool to incentivise the private sector to invest in projects that are not financially lucrative initially, but have potential for profitability in the long run. This needs to be scaled up and replicated in sectors like infrastructure, where returns may not be immediate.
Moving forward, to attract FDI, Nepal needs to tap into the funds that are available for the growth of small and medium enterprises (SMEs) and climate change. Alternative investments such as Private Equity Venture Capital (PEVC) have been around in a structured manner in Nepal for nearly a decade now.
These funds have blended finance components and have attracted climate funding as well. PEVC is a new asset class and can address the issues of penetrating into SME financing by incorporating environment, social and governance issues into their investment process.&nbsp;
SMEs are the backbone of any economy, PEVC comes with the ability not only to scale up the enterprise with risk capital, but with the ability to bring technical knowhow to enhance not only the enterprise but also the entrepreneur.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/success-in-nepal-means-not-having-to-work">Success in Nepal means not having to work</a>, Anil Chitrakar
A differentiator from all other forms of financing available till date in Nepal. Blended finance is a way of de-risking investments, especially in frontier markets. Business Oxygen (BO2) is an example of blended finance with subordinated debt investments of IFC (World Bank Group) taking the lead and Climate Investment Funds along with FCDO as co-investors.&nbsp;
On a larger scale, the 216MW Upper Trisuli 1 is another example of blended finance with IFC, a Korean consortium and local investments. So far, we see that development finance Institutions have been taking the lead in Nepal as their risk appetite is greater than commercial investors and they are eager to help develop the financial markets.&nbsp;
In order to be sustainable, we need to step on this and attract commercial capital from all over the world. To do this there has to be political will to make that pivot.&nbsp;
Instead of being a means to an end, the two previous Investment Summits turned out to be intermittent and cosmetic, providing hardly any results. The third one’s success will depend on how the event will be implemented as a platform for continuous marketing for the country and facilitation for investors in future.&nbsp;
Nepal has outdone many countries in its macro-economic indicators, with sound forex reserves and a stellar history of debt payments to its creditors. This story needs to be propagated along with the drive for change to attract potential investors.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/alternative-investments-to-attract-fdi">Alternative investments to attract FDI</a>, Siddhant Raj Pandey

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