Originally published on Global Voices

Participants of Himalaja Renkontiĝo 2019. Photo by Nepal Esperanto Association. Used with permission.

Esperanto, a universal language created by L. L. Zamenhof, has experienced fluctuating fortunes in Nepal since its introduction in 1957. Meaning “one who hopes” in English, Esperanto is the most successful constructed language, known for its simplicity and ease of learning, with an estimated 100,000 speakers worldwide.

Sanjib Chaudhary from Global Voices spoke with Bharat Kumar Ghimire, President of Nepalese Esperanto Association, to learn about the Esperanto movement in Nepal. The interview has been edited for length and clarity:

Global Voices (GV): How did the Esperanto movement start in Nepal? Who started teaching Esperanto in Nepal, and when did it happen?

Bharat Kumar Ghimire (BKG): Esperanto was introduced in Nepal in 1957 by Tibor Sekelj, a Hungarian born polyglot, explorer and author. During his visit, he taught a group of young people at Tri Chandra College [in Kathmandu], a historic academic institution that remains prominent today.

During his six-month stay, he not only taught Esperanto but also founded the Kathmandu Esperanto Society in Nepal in the same year. Nepal, up until then, had not yet opened its doors to foreign visitors. King Mahendra of Nepal invited him to thank him for founding the country’s first public university and for teaching Esperanto.

Sekelj also met Nepal's renowned poet and then-Minister of Education, Laxmi Prasad Devkota, who began learning the basics of Esperanto in his office.

In 1959, Sekelj wrote the book “Nepalo malfermas la pordon” (Nepal Opens the Door), originally in Esperanto, during his stay in Madras, South India, where he divided his time between writing and studying yoga philosophy. The book was later translated into several languages, including English, Spanish, Serbian, and Hebrew.

Later, in 1961, Simo Milojević, a Bosnian journalist and professional Esperantist, arrived in Nepal and taught Esperanto to more than 200 students over an eight-month period. He wrote several articles about Nepal.

Despite these early efforts, the Esperanto movement in Nepal stagnated for various reasons. However, in 1990, the Nepal Esperanto Association was established by three co-founders: Baikuntha Man Maskey, Shree Prasad Shrestha, and Dr. Keshav Ram Joshi. They remained active in the movement following the association's founding. Sadly, both Mr. Maskey and Dr. Joshi have since passed away.

Participants of Himalaja Renkontiĝo 2024. Photo by Nepal Esperanto Association. Used with permission.

GV: How many people speak Esperanto in Nepal? What are the challenges faced by the Esperanto movement here?

BKG: It is quite challenging to determine the exact number of Esperanto speakers in Nepal, as many people learn the language independently. Since the Nepal Esperanto Association was established, we’ve taught Esperanto to roughly 5,000 people, though the actual number might be even higher. Around 200 to 300 people are estimated to speak the language fluently, while over 1,000 have a basic understanding.

One significant challenge for the Esperanto movement in Nepal is the issue of migration. Following the COVID-19 pandemic, many Esperanto speakers have migrated to more developed countries, which has posed a considerable obstacle to the growth and sustainability of the Esperanto community in Nepal.

A group of Esperanto learners at Koteshwor Multiple Campus in Kathmandu. Photo by Nepal Esperanto Association. Used with permission.

GV: Being the president of Nepal Esperanto Association, can you tell us what steps you have taken to take forward the Esperanto movement in Nepal?

BKG: I am one of the founding members of the Nepal Esperanto Association and have played a key role in sustaining it through its various ups and downs over the years. After establishing the association in 1990, we have been following a new course conducted by Joachim Verdin from Poland.

As the president of the association, my primary goals include increasing the number of Esperanto speakers in Nepal and sharing updates about Nepal's Esperanto-related activities with the global community. Additionally, I aspire to translate key Nepali texts into Esperanto to further enrich the language's cultural exchange.

GV: Can you tell us about the Himalaya Renkontiĝo that you organize every year?

Resources available for learning Esperanto. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary. Used with permission.

BKG: The Himalaja Renkontiĝo (Himalayan Meeting) began in 1995 with the primary goal of addressing the financial challenges faced by Nepali Esperantists, which often made it difficult for them to travel abroad. To overcome this, we decided to invite Esperanto speakers from around the world to visit Nepal instead.

Additionally, we aimed to foster socio-cultural exchange between local and international participants. Since 2014, we have also introduced a special excursion (Speciala Ekskurso) to Nepal, designed for those who may not be interested or not able to go in trekking in the mountains but wish to explore the rich cultural and natural beauty of Nepal.

We organize the International Himalayan Meeting (Internacia Himalaja Renkontiĝo) every two years, alongside the Special Excursion (Speciala Ekskurso) during alternate years.

GV: How can one learn Esperanto in Nepal? What are the resources available in Nepal?

BKG: Nowadays, if someone wants to learn a language, they can do so through the internet, for example through Duolingo. Our organization also conducts language courses from time to time. For example, we are currently teaching two classes: one is being organized at Koteshower Multiple Campus, and the other is being held at the association's office.

As for the resources, we carry out these activities voluntarily. There is no consistent funding or support from either domestic or international sources. Unfortunately, the situation in Nepal is quite challenging, and while one or two individuals or organizations occasionally support us, it is not enough.

Written by Sanjib Chaudhary

Originally published on Global Voices

Everyday life in Pyangaon. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary. Used with permission.

Fourteen kilometres to the south of Kathmandu Valley lies a small village that has evaded modernization. Pyangaon, named after “pyang” — traditional Nepali measuring containers made from bamboo — is at a crossroads, faced with either continuing their artisan traditions or modernizing their products to suit new markets.

Bamboo containers of all shapes and sizes

Pyangs were mostly made to measure grains equivalent to a mana or a pathi, the customary units of measurement still used in rural parts of Nepal. While one mana is equivalent to 10 fistfuls, 8 manas make a pathi. Pyangs are also used to store grains, spices, clothes and other valuable items.

In the past, most of the Pyangaon residents used to make pyangs and either bartered these containers for rice and grain or sold them at neighbouring markets.

Pyangs of different shapes and sizes. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary. Used with permission.

The lightweight yellow pyangs turn golden as they’re used over time. The bamboo containers are treated to be pest and insect-resistant through a process where they are heated on a haystack, soaked in water and compressed under pressure. They are also environmentally friendly, according to the makers.

Tirtha Maharjan, 41, has been making pyangs for the last seven years. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary. Used with permission.

However, despite their usefulness, pyangs are not much in demand anymore. “We can get cheaper containers made from plastic and more durable containers made from iron easily in the market,” said Tirtha Maharjan, an artisan who learned to make pyangs seven years ago and has been continuing with the tradition, in an interview with Global Voices. “After improvising the designs with the help of Aman Shahi, my products have been exported to many countries, including Japan and Bangladesh.”

“I have also designed promotional materials for the handicrafts to bring wider recognition of the folk traditions and knowledge of the people about pyang,” writes Aman Shahi, an artist who has been working with local artisans. “This project aims to highlight, preserve, artistically document and suggest ways to keep alive the heritage of Pyangaon and its bamboo art.”

He adds: “For my Project Pyang, I am collaborating with designer Alina Manandhar who shares my passion for the artisanal tradition. Together we hope to work with the community to build a new market for pyang that will undoubtedly lead to many eco-social benefits besides shedding light on the immense potential for crafts to support a greener economy in Nepal.”

Walking down memory lane

Aside from the pyangs, the town of Pyangaon is a marvellous place that has managed to preserve its unique identity. Life in the idyllic village is laid-back and reminiscent of previous times – the old brick houses laden with dried corn ears, grains left to dry on the streets, flocks of ducks and chickens roaming the streets and men and women basking in the sun, chatting and doing household chores.

Pyangaon in 1975. Photo by Gerard Toffin. Used with permission.

According to Gerard Toffin, Emeritus Research Director at the National Centre for Scientific Research in Paris, who studied Pyangaon in the 1970s, “…the only street in the locality, still flanked on both sides by high wooden stakes to dry maize and by two compact rows of terrace houses, is still the same.”

Toffin further writes: “What is more, young people are trying to revive the craft of making bamboo containers, pyāṅg (or dyāṃcā, hāpā) (hence the Nepali name for the village), once used to measure grain and to store varieties of spices.”

Written by Sanjib Chaudhary

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by Khagendra Khatri. Used with permission.

This article by Marty Logan was originally published in Nepali Times, and an edited version has been republished on Global Voices as part of a content-sharing agreement.

Khagendra Khatri had his sights set on working in South Korea. He had even relocated from Rolpa district to Dang district in Lumbini Province of Nepal so he could take classes to prepare for the mandatory Korean language exam.

One day a man approached him in Tulsipur in Dang District and asked if he was interested in going to work in Russia. He said he was not, but the man persisted. Six weeks later Khatri changed his plans, and on October 15, 2023, he took off for Moscow via Dubai from Kathmandu together with 52 Nepali job-seekers.

He had heard about the Russia-Ukraine war, but the recruiter had promised him a job as a cook behind the front lines. The salary would be equivalent to NPR 500,000 (USD 3,698) monthly, and after one year, he would get Russian permanent residency. Khatri was even told he would be eligible for a US visa after that.

The Nepalis in the group spent a couple of days in Moscow filling out paperwork. Then they were put on a bus and driven to a camp in the forest where they were trained for a week, including on how to use a rifle.

Khagendra Khatri with other Nepali soldiers in Russia. Image by Khagendra Khatri. Used with permission.

At that point Khatri still thought he would be cooking for the fighters.

“It was only after we were taken to a second training camp, where I saw my name suddenly pop up on a list of conscripts going to combat. And that is when it hit me that I was going to war,” Khatri recalled in an interview in Kathmandu.

“After I saw my name, I started talking to an important looking soldier, using Google Translate,” he continued. “I tried persuading him to take me out. He was not listening to me at the beginning, but I kept talking to him for a day and a half, and he finally agreed to take seven of us Nepalis if we each paid him 17,000 rubles [USD 174].”

The man dropped the Nepalis off in his own vehicle some five kilometres out of camp at midnight. From there they started walking through the forest in the bitterly cold Russian winter.

“We did not fear that somebody would come and capture us,” says Khatri. “We were more afraid of encountering wild animals — what would we do? It was also snowing, so we worried that maybe we would just perish in the cold.”

The group walked for 16 hours straight, until a vehicle approached on a road, and stopped. After the men explained what had happened and where they were from, the driver agreed to drive them the seven hours to Moscow.

Learning their visas had expired, the helpful driver took them to a hostel where he knew they would be safe. He even refused to accept any money for driving them all the way and helping them.

Safe in the hostel, the men contacted friends and family back in Nepal who sent them airline tickets. A day later, they were already at the Moscow airport, boarding their flight home.

Image by Khagendra Khatri. Used with permission.

Today, almost exactly one year later, Khatri says the experience sometimes seems unreal: “It actually feels like a story, and maybe people don’t believe it. But when I was actually there, I was really afraid. One thought in the back of my mind was … oh this is it I’m going to die here,” he says.

Khatri has started a farm in Rolpa with his family. But he is doubtful that he will make enough money to pay off the NPR 1 million (about USD 7,741) he owes money lenders. He is now looking for a new, safer opportunity abroad.

Asked if he’s worried about being tricked again, he replies, “Yes, I’m afraid of that. And I think it is normal to think that way. But then again, I feel like if I only choose countries that have agreements with the Nepal government, maybe I will not be tricked again.”

Khatri says he can’t think of any of his peers who have done well for themselves without migrating abroad. He adds, “Most of my friends, even those who have attempted to do something in Nepal, have failed and had to finally go abroad. I do not think I have seen any of my friends actually succeed in Nepal.”

Khatri along with other Nepalis was recruited by men named Mohan Oli and Nim Bahadur Kunwar (Sushant), according to a report by the Centre for Investigative Journalism Nepal. The police has a list of 61 traffickers involved in recruiting Nepalis into the Russian Army and arrested 22 of them. Some refunded the fees, and most have been set free.

There are estimated to be a few thousand Nepalis in the Russian Army. At least 44 of them have been killed in action, while six were captured and are said to be prisoners of war in Ukraine.

Written by Nepali Times

Originally published on Global Voices

Image via Professor Surya P. Subedi. Used with permission.

Professor Surya P. Subedi, OBE, KC is a distinguished scholar in international law and human rights, currently serving as a Professor at the University of Leeds, UK, and as a barrister in London. He has held the role of UN Special Rapporteur for human rights in Cambodia and served as a legal advisor to the UK’s Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

Honored with the Order of the British Empire (OBE) by Queen Elizabeth II and the title of King's Counsel, Professor Surya P. Subedi was also awarded the Suprabal Gorkhadaxinbahu by the late King Birendra of Nepal in 1998. His work has earned him a Nobel Peace Prize nomination and a global reputation as a preeminent international lawyer and champion of peace, human rights, and the rule of law. Professor Subedi has authored 12 books and over 60 articles in international journals, with a focus on global governance, economic justice, and the role of international law in fostering peace.

Global Voices interviewed Subedi via email to understand his perspectives on the evolving role of international law in promoting peace and justice, his journey from Nepal to becoming a global advocate, and his insights on the future of human rights worldwide.

Sangita Swechcha (SS): Your life and work have been chronicled in two biographies. How do you feel your personal and professional journey is reflected in them? What do you hope readers — both in Nepal and internationally — will gain from your experiences?

Prof. Surya Subedi (PSS): My publications — Prof. Surya Subedi: From Distinguished Scholar to Nobel Peace Prize Nomination (in Nepali by Bhagirath Yogi and Nabin Pokharel) and my English-language autobiography The Workings of Human Rights, Law, and Justice: A Journey from Nepal to Nobel Nominee — reflect well on my achievements and contributions toward making life fairer through the advancement of human rights and the rule of law, both nationally and internationally. When I wrote my memoir, my primary aim was to inspire the younger generation, encouraging people from all backgrounds to aim high in life. Both publications primarily focus on my work in international law and human rights, though it was not possible to cover, in a single volume, my work outside the legal field, including contributions to various charities and society at large. I hope to write a comprehensive memoir in the future that covers my work in all aspects of life.

SS: In your role as UN Special Rapporteur for Human Rights in Cambodia, what were some of the significant challenges you faced, and how did these experiences shape your views on international human rights law?

PSS: My experience of work for the United Nations in Cambodia has significantly contributed to my approach to life. In gaining knowledge, I learned much of people’s suffering around the world; and I made it my mission to help alleviate this however I could. This is what kept me going when I was fighting for human rights in Nepal, working for the UN in Cambodia and advising the British foreign secretary on human rights.

I consider myself a compassionate person — someone who notices suffering and acts to alleviate the pain. International law, I realised, has the potential to alleviate suffering. Thus, through my academic work, I have endeavoured to define, develop and enhance this tool, which I have also applied to the best of my abilities in my many hands-on engagements to promote human rights.

SS: What are your observations on Nepal's peace process since the resolution of the Maoist conflict, and how do you view the country's progress toward peace and democracy?

PSS: Despite avoiding a resurgence of violent conflict, Nepal’s post-conflict era has been far from perfect — it can be characterised as two steps forward and one-step backwards process. After the conclusion of the comprehensive peace accords (CPA) in 2006, Nepal has witnessed ethnic violence, rampant corruption, the politicisation of key public institutions and a failure to fully implement the provisions of the CPA. Of the three pillars of the Nepalese peace process, two — the integration of Maoist combatants in the Nepal Army and the promulgation of a new constitution — have been accomplished. But the third one — transitional justice — has been stalled again and again. The rights of the victims of the 10 year long civil war (1996–2006) and the principles of transitional justice, namely truth, justice, reparation, and institutional reform have been neglected and fallen victim to political consensus. What is most unfortunate is that these issues have been trapped in the constant making and breaking of governments in Kathmandu by politicians. However, after the compromise reached recently by the major political parties comprehensively address these issues, one can hope that they will be sincere this time in addressing these issues.

SS: As a member of the Expert Group on India-Nepal boundary issues, what positive impacts do you believe your work can bring to resolving these sensitive geopolitical matters? How do you approach these complex diplomatic challenges?

PSS: India and Nepal must resolve their borders through dialogue and diplomacy and when doing so they can benefit by the report that I submitted to the government in my capacity as a member of the expert group. If there is political will to resolve the dispute there are many models in resolving it and I have outlined these models and options available to the government.

SS: You’ve written extensively on global governance and economic justice. Based on your publications, how can international law better address economic inequality, especially in developing nations?

PSS: One of the things needed is the reform of international institutions including the United Nations. Their composition and decision making process do not reflect the current global reality. Another is to have a comprehensive international policy for financing development. The third is to demonstrate a genuine desire to address the impact of climate change on human rights and on the life of people in particularly vulnerable countries such as the least developed countries and small island states.

SS: As a nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize, how do you envision the future of human rights and peace-building in today’s world? What reforms do you think are necessary to enhance international cooperation for peace?

PSS: The reasons why we have witnessed major conflicts in various parts of the word in the recent past is due to the failure of the United Nations and the failure of diplomacy. The UN is making itself increasingly irrelevant in peace-building in the conflict areas. It is bogged down in its own bureaucratic methods of addressing the major challenges of our time and suffers from inefficiency. Powerful states are using human rights as a tool of their foreign policy objectives. The political architecture that was put in place in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War had a grand vision of ushering the world into a rules-based international order. The UN as an institution was founded on the three main pillars: the maintenance of international peace and security, human rights, and development. The rise of populism and nationalism, renewed claims of national sovereignty over international collective commitments, the impact of new technologies on personal liberty and the excesses of capitalism are posing an unprecedented challenge to liberal values, the rules-based international order, and the human rights agenda. Therefore, the peace-loving people from around the globe should be united to revive the spirit of the time when the Charter of the United Nations was adopted.

Written by Sangita Swechcha

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

It took the Great Nepali Floods of September 28, 2024, for the residents of Kathmandu to fully grasp the extent of the trash being dumped into the Valley’s sacred rivers.

Even three weeks later, plastic bags still hang like flags from the high branches of trees in Teku and Sankhamul suburbs in the Nepali capital, stark reminders of how high the water rose on that fateful day. Pieces of cloth, Styrofoam, plastic bottles, and other debris remain scattered along the damaged pavements and embankments on the banks of the Bagmati river.

This was the revenge of the rivers. The Bagmati, Vishnumati, Manohara, and Nakkhu struck back at the city dwellers for treating the once sacred rivers as dumpsites. The rivers threw the trash right back where it came from.

“If we do not want such garbage being washed away during the monsoon, we should prioritise waste management. We should focus on every aspect of waste generation,” says Shilashila Acharya of Avni Ventures, a recycling company in Kathmandu. “Dumping sites are often near the riversides. So, we might also want to rethink the locations of the dumping sites.”

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Single-use plastic is the largest source of trash in Kathmandu Valley, with an estimated 5 million plastic bags used daily. About 800 tons of this non-biodegradable material is dumped in the river or in landfill sites every day.

Thicker plastics, such as bottles and other discarded household items, are collected by waste pickers for recycling. However, plastic bags thinner than 20 microns — often used just once to carry vegetables or other food — are simply discarded. One plastic bag takes 500 years to completely biodegrade, and microplastics contaminate drinking water and find its way into the human food chain.

Plastics thrown carelessly into rivers can clog drainage systems, disrupt the water cycle and poison aquatic species and wildlife. Waste collecting companies have realised that there is money in trash, and are doing good business recycling the plastic bottles and large items. However, since thin plastic bags aren’t recyclable, they often end up being swept down the Bagmati River towards the plains.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

“Cleaning campaigns are not enough. When we clean, we pick up the waste from one site and throw it off in another likely a landfill. This does not deal with the main problem of waste,” says Nabin Maharjan of Blue Waste to Value (BW2V) which recycles waste and turns them into sellable products such as cooking utensils.

He adds: “But what we can do instead is pick the waste in a segregated form, reduce them to products and sell them. And that is how a circular economy can thrive. The government and local authorities should be involved.”

Nepal’s governments has attempted to ban polythene and single-use plastic bags thinner than 20 microns several times in the past, but these regulations were quickly repealed due to lobbying by plastic pellet importers with political connections.

Hanging from railings on the Bagmati banks, and swinging from trees at its confluence with the Vishnumati in Teku are at least seven types of plastic. The lowest grade are single use thin plastic bags that need to be banned at source.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

But half-buried in the silt of the Bagmati’s floodplain are PET (polyethylene terephthalate) bottles, which can easily be recycled. While waste collectors do remove most of these and other recyclables before disposal, many still end up in the river. Without extended producer responsibility, the Nepali government does not require manufacturers to ensure proper recycling.

“The first and foremost step of waste management starts is the segregation of biodegradable and non-biodegradable trash at source. Secondly, there should be more planned landfills within a community. While we prefer landfills to be away from the city, planned smaller landfills help better manage the waste of a community,” adds Acharya.

“Third is the partnership that can exist between government authorities like Kathmandu municipalities with private organizations who are already working in waste management. This collaboration can help them better manage the waste,” she says.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

The Kathmandu Valley produces an estimated 1,200 tons of waste every day, most of which ends up unsegregated at the landfill site at Banchare Danda of Nuwakot, after the previous site at Sisdole got filled up in 2022. Nearly 65 percent of it is still organic household waste, and can easily be turned into compost and need not end up in landfills at all.

Much of the paper, plastic bottles, metal and glass can also be recycled easily if they are segregated at source — as Mayor Balen Shah promised in his election campaigning. This could reduce the volume of garbage that has to be sent in fleets of tipper trucks every day to the landfill.

Residents living near Banchare already suffer serious health risks from water contaminated by leachate from the dumpsite.

Says Nabin Maharjan: “We have to start working on minimising the waste generation. Until waste prevention is not taken seriously, this cycle of people throwing waste and people cleaning it up will never end.”

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Image by Suman Nepali via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

Written by Nepali Times

Photo of Kathmandu Durbar Square by Martijn Vonk on Unsplash

We're excited to announce that the 2024 edition of the Global Voices Summit will take place on December 6-7 in Kathmandu, Nepal at the Hotel Yak & Yeti.

Our ninth Summit takes us to one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the world, a vibrant city with a multi-ethnic population and a rich heritage of art and architecture. In Kathmandu, we’ll convene journalists, translators, activists, technologists, policymakers, development experts and others from around the world to discuss digital media, knowledge and activism from a Global Majority perspective.

Like all Global Voices Summits, the 2024 edition will be a unique opportunity for learning and sharing with an international community of folks who are as diverse as they are dynamic. 

Throughout two days of conversation and workshops, we will analyze issues related to free expression, language diversity and the conditions that help or hinder both. We will examine threats like transnational repression and digital authoritarianism, explore open knowledge initiatives in a fragmenting internet, and hear from the Third Pole about lessons learned in media making, political activism and environmental justice.

Supporters and funders include the W.K. Kellogg Foundation, the MacArthur Foundation, Nepali Times, Accountability Lab, CMR Nepal Journalism Academy and others. Register today to save your spot, and stay tuned for more information on the program! 

Written by Georgia Popplewell · View original post [en]

Originally published on Global Voices

Flood in Kathmandu, Nepal. September 2024. Screenshot from YouTube Video by MrMin. Fair use.

As Nepal's festival season of Dashain approached, heavy and continuous rains starting on September 26 turned the celebrations into a national tragedy. Torrential rainfall across the country led to devastating floods and landslides, resulting in the deaths of at least 219 people and the displacement of over 12,000 families, with many more still missing. Even the typically flood-resilient Kathmandu Valley, the country's capital region, was heavily affected, with numerous districts impacted. The Bagmati River overflowed, destroying homes and businesses and placing severe strain on Nepal's infrastructure and economy.

User Neha Gurung shared some heartbreaking videos on X (formerly Twitter):

Some heartbreaking videos of #NepalFlood

Pray for Nepal. https://t.co/tzxal4d05R pic.twitter.com/fZSMwNDjYr

— Neha Gurung (@nehaGurung1692) September 29, 2024

Some major highways were blocked by landslides, leaving people stranded and struggling to survive, while air travel was disrupted due to low visibility and domestic air travel was suspended for two days. In Eastern Nepal's Jhapa district alone, nearly 300 millimetres of rainfall was recorded in just a few days, far exceeding the expected seasonal averages. This year, the monsoon rains began earlier than anticipated, arriving in the country on June 10, three days ahead of the usual onset date of June 13. The rains also lasted significantly longer than average. These unusual weather patterns have been linked to the growing impacts of climate change, resulting in extended and heavier monsoons that left both rural and urban areas unprepared for such disasters, particularly in vulnerable countries like Nepal.

On X, user Tilak Bhusal indicates that the land grab in the riversides hampered the natural flow of the water:

The real catastrophe began when land mafias illegally encroached the riversides. I hope recovery is swift. The best time to act was 20 years ago and next best time is now. We must give rivers back their space, they owned this land long before us.#NepalFlood #climatechange pic.twitter.com/mwzxI6S1DX

— Tilak Bhusal (@TilakBhusal75) September 29, 2024

The floods have brought back the discussion of the significant challenges in Nepal's urban planning and disaster preparedness strategies. The Kathmandu Valley, known for its rapid urban expansion, experienced major damage due to inadequate infrastructure and poor drainage systems, making it highly vulnerable to flooding. Environmental and infrastructure experts have repeatedly highlighted the unchecked expansion of residential areas, particularly in flood-prone regions. Numerous residential houses have been constructed in these areas without proper safety inspections. However, no substantial efforts have been made by the government or policymakers to address these challenges.

Raju Shah, a father who lost his five-year-old daughter in a flood on the morning of September 29 in Kathmandu Valley, still holds hope that she will return. He works in a small iron factory near the banks of the Nakkhu River, located in the Lalitpur district of the capital. The Nakkhu River was heavily flooded that day, and his daughter was swept away. He said to BBC Nepali, “If my daughter had been rescued in time, she could have survived.” He urges the government to help him find his daughter.

Despite government efforts to issue flood warnings and evacuate communities living near rivers such as the Bagmati and Koshi, downstream districts like Rautahat and Sarlahi remain at risk as water levels continue to rise due to the ongoing monsoon. Local volunteers, security forces, and humanitarian organizations have been mobilized to support rescue and relief operations, but the scale of the disaster has overwhelmed the country’s limited resources.

Mountaineer Nirmal Puja urged:

URGENT HELP NEEDED

Nepal has been hit by a huge flood in #Kathmandu, the @nimsdaiFNDN is already in action but we need your urgently need your help and support in donations.

Donate here https://t.co/8cp0kMOZiE pic.twitter.com/KycA1Nahvn

— Nirmal Purja MBE (@nimsdai) September 29, 2024

Criticism of the government’s lack of preparedness for the monsoon season has intensified as this year’s extended rains have exacerbated the country’s natural vulnerabilities. Monsoons are annual occurrences in Nepal, with multiple landslides and road accidents happening each year. However, the government's response has always been slow and neglected.

The economic crisis resulting from the disaster is equally devastating. Many areas affected by the floods are agricultural regions where livelihoods depend heavily on farming. Crops and businesses have been washed away, and livestock lost, worsening the hardships faced by rural communities that were already struggling economically. Disruptions to transportation networks have made it difficult to deliver essential goods and services to the hardest-hit areas, further compounding the challenges faced by those affected.

Health experts are now warning of an increased risk of waterborne and airborne diseases. With water sources contaminated and the living conditions of displaced people poor, hospitals are already observing a surge in infectious diseases such as cholera.

User Nirmal shared:

It was the morning of Saturday, Sept. 28, and the rain would continue for another day, causing landslides and floods in areas surrounding Kathmandu, Nepal’s capital. More than 200 people were dead in the worst flooding to hit the region in five decades. pic.twitter.com/i9w6vS5oTt

— Nirmal (@Nepali) October 2, 2024

The need for systemic change has never been clearer. This devastating natural disaster highlights the vulnerability of Nepal's geography and infrastructure. As the country grieves its losses, the focus must shift toward stronger disaster preparedness, environmental sustainability, and infrastructure capable of withstanding future natural disasters.

For many families across the country, this disaster has overshadowed what should have been a time of celebration. Instead of preparing for the festivals, families are mourning the loss of loved ones, trying to reclaim their homes, and relying on emergency aid to survive. Temporary shelters have been set up in schools and public buildings, but for many displaced families, the road to recovery will be long and challenging.

Written by Benju Lwagun

Originally published on Global Voices

DEFORESTATION FROM SPACE: Parsa's Gadimai Partnership Forest in 2008 and in 2021 on Google Earth Pro. The vegetation colour is different because the images were taken in different seasons. Image via Nepali Times. Used with permission.

This article by Ramu Sapkota in collaboration with the Environmental Reporting Collective was first published on the Nepali Times. An edited and shortened version is republished below as part of a content-sharing agreement with Global Voices.

The Gadhimai Partnership Forest extends 4,150 hectares in Parsa district bordering a nature reserve adjacent to Chitwan National Park.

Half of Gadimai Forest in the Terai region is made up of hardwood species like sal, sisau and khayar that have high commercial value. Illegal logging by timber smugglers on the Indian border is now thinning the jungle.

An on site investigation earlier this year confirmed what was seen on Google Earth Pro satellite images. We saw more than 30 tree stumps deep inside the forest with scars in the undergrowth showing where the logs had been dragged away from the once-healthy stands.

Comparing satellite images of the forest in 2008 and 2021 show a significant loss of forest area as well as reduction in canopy cover in the last 13 years (pictured, above). Gadimai Forest Management Committee chair Shahrum Gaddi explains some of the destruction:

Our staff have not been able to adequately monitor the forest because of the presence of smugglers in the Sonbarsha and Koilabhar Bindabasini regions. We have seen a rise in illegal logging since the pandemic.

The annual report of Parsa’s Division Forest Office cites smuggling of timber to India from Gadimai and two other community forests in the district.

Community forestry is considered Nepal’s biggest conservation success story and is internationally acclaimed. It was the main reason Nepal’s forest cover which at present is 46 percent doubled in 25 years. Communities have managed forests relatively better in the mountains, but in the Tarai it has been less successful because of the abundance of expensive hardwood timber and proximity to India.

Forest cover could be further undermined by an amendment of the 1973 National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act in Parliament in September 2024.

Global Land Analysis and Google Earth Pro images show deforestation of the 13,512 hectares of Sagarnath Forest Development Project in Mahottari, Sarlahi and Rautahat districts.

The project began in 1978 and involved planting fast-growing saplings of sal, sisau, and eucalyptus to increase timber production, but much of the sal and khayar stands have been logged from within these forests.

Used with permission.

Sarlahi resident Rajnikanth Jha, who is a central member of the Federation of Community Forestry Users Nepal (FECOFUN) blames collusion between Sagarnath Forest Development Project staff, government agencies, politicians and the “forest mafia”.

In March 2024, Brahmapur Community Forestry User Committee president Manoj Tamang was arrested on charges of smuggling sal logs. The Division Forest Office (DFO) also charged Tek Bahadur Basnet, Aashish Tamang and Heralu Pemba Tamang of the committee.

Another community forest in Lalbandi of Mahottari, which was once just two kilometers from Jha’s house has now receded six kilometers away due to encroachment and illegal logging. He says that Nepal’s forest cover may have doubled, but the eastern Tarai has lost half the area of national forests.

“From the highway the forest may look thick and lush, but if we go deeper into the forests most of the trees have been stripped bare,” says Jha.

Forest researcher Nagendra Prasad Yadav estimated eight years ago that the Tarai jungles were being destroyed at the rate of 0.96 percent, equal to 1,756 hectares per year. Given the evidence on the ground, that rate is sure to have increased.

In Parsa alone, one estimate said illegal timber worth over NPR 5 million (over USD 37,000) was smuggled out every month. The DFO does nab smugglers from time to time, and cases were filed against 66 loggers, but it is the tip of the iceberg, and those caught are mainly the hired workers.

The Madhes Province Forest Directorate says 931 illegal logging cases were filed in the courts last year, and 523 were arrested — mostly in Bara, Parsa and Rautahat districts, which have more forest cover than other eastern Tarai districts.

Global Forest Watch estimates Nepal lost 4,570 hectares of “biologically important” dense forest between 2002 and 2023 due to encroachment and smuggling.

“There is inadequate protection and not enough rangers and police to guard the national, community, and partnership forests,” says Parsa-based journalist Ram Mandal. The reason is lack of budget and often collusion between local politicians and their criminal cronies.

In Gadimai Forest, Shahrum Gaddi says he receives frequent death threats after timber smugglers are caught, and elected local government officials pressure him to release them.

Used with permission.

“The police do nothing while logging and smuggling is happening right under their noses, they only show up after we have been assaulted by smugglers and after all the timber has been taken across the border,” adds Gaddi, who says he has written to the CIAA, Hello Sarkar, DFOs, as well as the Ministry of Forests. There has been no response from any of them.

In 2021, timber traffickers injured four forest staff and looted their weapons during a clash in Bara’s Pipara, and were arrested soon after. Former FECOFUN president Bharati Pathak says smugglers set off fires in forests, steal logs and poach wildlife, by pretending to put out wildfires. Pathak says:

There is an established but under-the-radar network involved in illegal activities that must have smuggled millions of cubic feet of timber from the forests by now.

This network takes the logs to sawmills near the Indian border under the cover of night, then transports the wood planks across to Bihar. Trafficking gangs also use bicycles, tyre carts, tractors, vans, and trucks full of sand to smuggle timber, even modifying the vehicles to fit the logs in many cases. Sometimes, the logs are also floated down river into India.

Rajnikanth Jha of FECOFUN adds: “Infrastructure, expansion of settlements and timber smuggling are destroying our trees. If this continues there will be no forest left outside national parks in the Tarai.”

Written by Nepali Times

Originally published on Global Voices

Saguna Shah, founder of BOOkahOlics. Image via author. Used with permission.

The reading culture in Nepal is gradually growing, influenced by globalization and increasing access to technology. However, despite these advancements, the reading culture in Nepal remains relatively underdeveloped, with much room for growth.

However, there are enthusiasts actively working to change this landscape, and one name that stands out is Saguna Shah — a multifaceted personality in Nepal’s literary and cultural scene. Saguna Shah is known as a writer, translator, theatre actor, educator, and the founder of bOOkahOlics, Nepal’s largest online book club. Beyond her literary pursuits, Shah plays a significant role in shaping the reading culture in Nepal through her book club, monthly discussions, and creative writing workshops. bOOkahOlics is not just prevalent in Nepal; it is also widely used by Nepali book lovers residing in various countries, providing a space for them to connect over their shared passion for reading and literature.

Bhupeen, a poet and novelist from Nepal, who is a member of bOOkahOlics, shared his optimism in an interview with Global Voices, stating, “The depth of study and research that goes on within bOOkahOlics group gives me hope that the book culture in Nepal is becoming vibrant and strong.” He highlighted the enthusiasm of young readers and their openness to diverse literary genres.

Another member, Nirmala Prasai Sapkota, a BookTuber based in the United Kingdom, echoes this sentiment in an interview with Global Voices, saying, “It’s an active group of people addicted to books… The best part of bOOkahOlics is ‘Chakati Bahas’ (monthly book review series), which I love and appreciate very much,” reflecting on the group’s unique impact on readers. Another member, Jayant Sharma, a translator from Australia, also acknowledges the group’s progress, noting, “The reading culture in Nepal has never been particularly strong, but it has made significant strides in recent years, as seen in the rise of reading clubs and book discussions, especially in Kathmandu.” He emphasizes the ongoing need to nurture interest in Nepali literature and how bOOkahOlics has been instrumental in changing the literary landscape in the country.

Global Voices interviewed Saguna Shah via email to understand her role in transforming the reading culture in Nepal and to showcase how her initiatives, like bOOkahOlics, are connecting Nepali readers. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Sangita Swechcha: Can you tell us about the inception of bOOkahOlics and how it has evolved over the years? What inspired you to start Nepal’s largest online book club?

Saguna Shah: Reading, though inherently an act of solitude, demands active engagement with the text itself. However, my quest for learning extended beyond this solitary pursuit. After completing my Master’s degree and beginning my career in teaching literature, I sought more than just classroom discussions; I longed to be among others who shared my love for books and engaged in thoughtful conversations outside of academic settings. Despite my enthusiasm for discussing literature on social media, some perceived my passion as pretentious. In 2011, with limited platforms available for meaningful literary discussions, I had an idea: to create a virtual space dedicated solely to book discussions. Thus, bOOkahOlics was born, starting with just a handful of friends.

Sangita Swechcha: Monthly discussions like “Chakati Bahas” are a unique feature of bOOkahOlics. How has this evolution shaped the original mission of promoting a reading culture in Nepal?

Saguna Shah:Martin Chautari, primarily envisioned as a research-based library, facilitated discussions that met the needs of researchers, social activists, journalists, and other professionals. In 2013, Prabhakar Gautam, a journalist and a fellow admin at the time, proposed the idea of hosting monthly discussions in that very space. Chautari welcomed the idea. Two years after its inception as a virtual platform, we launched Chakati Bahas, an initiative that bridged the gap between readers and writers by bringing them together in one space to engage in critical discussions about selected books.

The outbreak of COVID-19 disrupted many aspects of our lives that we had long taken for granted. Not only were all activities halted, but the fear of isolation, confinement to our homes, and maintaining social distance from one another was overwhelming. During this time, the current team of admins  Ganesh Karki, Mohit Joshi, Sanjit Bharati, Richa, Bibek Mishra, and Karmath Subedi — came up with the idea, during a casual virtual meeting, to host an hour with the authors each evening. The goal was to have authors share their experiences as readers, their writing journeys, their books, or anything else they wished to discuss with their readers. While some authors were enthusiastic, others were initially skeptical. This initiative continued for one hundred days with one hundred consecutive sessions. We had never imagined that this would become something we eagerly anticipated each evening, but it provided a significant sense of solace.

Chakati Bahas, a discussion forum of BOOkahOlics. Image via author. Used with permission.

Sangita Swechcha: From your perspective, how has the reading culture in Nepal changed over the years, especially with the rise of digital platforms and social media?

Saguna Shah:We have grown from a small group of readers to a community of nearly twenty-six thousand members, and the number continues to rise. With the advent of digital platforms and social media, we have witnessed significant changes over the past decade. Books have become more accessible, not only in print but also in audio formats. Numerous groups and communities of writers and readers have emerged, such as Shabdapath, Aahwaan, Random Readers’ Club, Gunjan, Sahitya Post, and The Gorkha Times, to name a few. Whereas there was once only the Nepal Literature Festival, now there are many literary festivals. Additionally, communities of literary enthusiasts have sprung up in nearly every town, contributing to the flourishing reading culture.

Mist and Mountain, an international creative platform based in Scotland, in collaboration with bOOkahOlics, organized a Creative Writing Retreat in Kathmandu in 2022. The retreat was led by Amal Chatterjee, an author and senior tutor and assistant course director at Oxford University’s Creative Writing Programme, and Nabin K. Chhetri, an author and poet at the Scottish Book Trust (UK). The workshop was designed to help creative writers and poets refine their craft. Our plans for another workshop soon underscore that such initiatives are made possible by the goodwill bOOkahOlics has earned over the years.

Sangita Swechcha: What challenges do you think Nepali literature faces today in terms of reaching a broader audience, both locally and internationally?

Saguna Shah:We are rich in cultural diversity and literature, with phenomenal works written not only in Nepali but also in other regional languages. However, only a few of these have been translated into English. There is no shortage of progressive authors who have been writing for years, but to gain global recognition, translations are crucial. While much foreign literature is widely read in Nepali through translations, the reverse — Nepali literature translated into other languages — remains quite sparse. Nepali authors who primarily write in English often face challenges in gaining widespread recognition. This could be due to various factors, including the limited reach of English-language publications in Nepal, a preference for local languages, or simply the smaller audience for English literature in a primarily Nepali-speaking country. Increasing visibility and fostering cross-cultural exchange are essential.

Written by Sangita Swechcha

Originally published on Global Voices

Screenshot from Rajan Kathet's documentary movie “No Winter Holidays”, from TIDF YouTube channel.

While Nepali fiction cinema represents a vibrant industry, the documentary film scene remains small and little known in the Himalayan nation. One of the very few festivals featuring such movies is the Kathmandu International Mountain Film Festival (Kimff) that showcases films and documentaries with a strong focus on mountainous life and adventures, but also climate change and the life of rural communities. The 2024 edition showed over 20 movies from a dozen countries. 

But how is the life of documentary filmmakers outside of this once-a-year event? To hear about the challenges and joys of such a rare profession in Nepal, Global Voices spoke to Rajan Kathet, a filmmaker based in Kathmandu working in both fiction and documentary films. Kathet is an alumnus of various film programs, including the European Masters DOCNOMADS, Berlinale Talents and the Global Media Makers.

The interviewed was conducted over email after an in-person conversation in Kathmandu.

Rajan Khatet, photo used with permission.

Filip Noubel (FN): What are the main challenges for being a documentary film-maker in Nepal? 

Rajan Kathet (RK): The primary challenges for documentary filmmakers in Nepal are funding and market access. The overwhelming majority of films produced in Nepal are fiction, with nearly all financiers, distributors, and producers focused solely on this genre. State support is virtually nonexistent, and there are almost no venues to screen documentaries domestically, pushing filmmakers to seek opportunities abroad. While charity screenings or limited runs in theaters do occur, they rarely ensure financial returns and often serve more as symbolic gestures than viable income sources. Nepali television channels do not typically purchase documentaries, unlike their counterparts abroad. To have a documentary broadcast on Nepali TV, filmmakers often need to buy airtime or find commercial sponsors to cover the costs. Consequently, initiating and completing a documentary in Nepal is a formidable task, often requiring collaboration with international producers to access grants from Europe or America.

FN: What places and festivals in Asia allow you to showcase movies and meet peers?

RK: For the past two decades, South Korea has been a prime destination for Nepali filmmakers seeking grant support and prestigious premieres, whether Asian or World. The Busan International Film Festival stands out as a top priority, especially for fiction filmmakers, due to its rich array of market forums and workshops aimed at nurturing Asian talent. In recent years, however, Nepali filmmakers have expanded their reach to other Asian festivals in Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan, India, Singapore, and beyond. My first feature documentary, “No Winter Holidays”, received financial support from DMZ Docs in South Korea, where it also had its Asian premiere. The film enjoyed a successful run across major Indian festivals like Dharamshala IFF, MIFF Mumbai, Kolkata IFF, and Kolkata People's Film Festival, and was recently showcased at the Taiwan International Documentary Film Festival  (TIDF) and the Golden Apricot International Film Festival in Armenia.

The movie won the Best Documentary Award at the December 2023 Nepal Human Rights International Film Festival. Here is the trailer of the documentary that portrays two Nepali rural widow women in charge of a remote village who face traditional discrimination based on their gender, caste and social status:

For more on TIDF, read: Taiwan International Documentary Festival honors Myanmar filmmakers

FN: You have also collaborated with a Taiwanese team for a documentary movie. How was this experience? 

RK: After the COVID-19 pandemic, I coordinated the Nepal production of the Taiwanese feature documentary ‘After the Snowmelt’ ( 雪水消融的季節), directed by Lo Yishan (羅苡珊). This personal documentary follows Yishan as she retraces the final journey of her friend, who tragically lost her life in a weather-related incident in Nepal. Due to travel restrictions, the director and her team could only manage the second of the two scheduled filming trips to Nepal. For the first schedule, immediately after the pandemic, my team at Salpa Films and I handled all the filming. During the second schedule, I primarily assisted Yishan's team with logistics, permits, and other essential support. The film premiered at Visions du Réel festival in April 2024 and is now traveling around the film festivals.

Here is the trailer for Lo Yishan's movie:

FN: What are your current projects and how do you see your career evolving?

RK: I'm currently involved in several projects. I'm writing a short fiction film working-titled ‘Oxygen’, which explores the father-son relationship in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic. Additionally, I'm researching and developing a feature documentary focused on caste-based social discrimination in Nepal, a project that was presented at the Doc Station of Berlinale Talents and Docedge Kolkata earlier this year. I'm also working on a concept for a TV documentary in collaboration with an Indian filmmaker, whom I supported as a Nepal producer for his TV docu-series ‘A Himalayan Endgame’, which is now in post-production.

In the past, sustaining a career in filmmaking has been challenging, but in recent years, I've found a more stable path. Connecting with international filmmakers has led to various collaborations, which have helped me secure work and, in turn, allowed me to develop my projects with less financial strain. In the next few years, I see myself distributing my second feature-length documentary while seeking funding for my feature fiction film.

RK: ‘No Winter Holidays’ (Dhorpatan in Nepali) was first screened in Nepal at the Nepal Human Rights International Film Festival 2023, where it won the Best Film of the Festival award. Following the festival, as the film gained international recognition through a successful festival run and numerous awards, we decided to host a theatrical screening in Kathmandu. Originally planned for one week, with one screening per day at a single theater, the response exceeded our expectations. Thanks to strong audience support and media coverage, the screening extended to a full month—an impressive feat for documentaries in Nepal, where audiences are not accustomed to watching documentaries outside a handful of film festivals. Most documentaries in Nepal tend to be corporate, INGO, or awareness-raising films, so our film offered a refreshing change. Despite minimal promotional efforts, strong word of mouth and positive media reviews helped sustain the screenings for an entire month.

RK: While many films have been made about rural areas in Nepal, the country’s geography extends far beyond the regions typically portrayed in media and cinema. Most films depicting rural life tend to focus on areas that are easily accessible from Kathmandu, or popular tourist destinations. However, there are remote corners of Nepal where the state, media, and filmmakers have largely failed to reach. As a result, the depiction of rural life in Nepali films has become a narrow caricature, often repeating what pioneering filmmakers initially established, without exploring the true diversity, nuances and complexity of these regions.

Written by Filip Noubel

Originally published on Global Voices

A devastating flash flood, accompanied by a mudslide and debris, swept through Thame village in Solukhumbu district. Screenshot from YouTube video by Anand Nepal. Fair use.

This story by Sonia Awale was first published on the Nepali Times. An edited and shortened version is republished below as part of a content-sharing agreement with Global Voices.

At exactly 9 am on August 16th, a 4.5 magnitude earthquake hit Xizang on the Tibetan Plateau. Four hours later, 65 kilometres away in Nepal, a glacial lake burst unleashing a cascade of destruction downstream.

It is not certain if that nearby tremor caused the lake to burst — either because an avalanche on the south ridge of Mt Tengi Ragi Tau fell into it, or heavy monsoon rain led to the collapse of a moraine.

Either way, the snowmelt emptied into another lake below and unleashed a debris flow that roared down the valley to the village of Thame. Fortunately, children at a school had gone home early that Friday and inhabitants had time to climb to safety when they heard the approaching roar. There were no fatalities.

Thame was not as lucky on August 4th, 1985, when a bigger lake in an adjacent valley, Dig Tso, burst after an avalanche fell on it. Twelve people were swept away by the ensuing flood, a newly built hydropower plant was destroyed, and a section of the Everest trekking trail was washed away.

Glaciologist Tenzing Chogyal Sherpa remembers his mother telling him that their home in Namche Bazaar was spared because it was on higher ground.

“But she told us that with trails destroyed, food and supplies couldn’t reach us. At one point, her family had to survive on rotten potatoes,” recalls Sherpa, who works at the Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) and uses remote sensing to map climate-induced hazards in the Himalayas.

He says the Thame flood this week was a reminder of the inherent risk of living in the mountains — a risk which is significantly magnified by ongoing climate breakdown.

“To the south, we have Lumding Tso, a potentially dangerous glacial lake that also empties into the Dudh Kosi river, and to the west in Rolwaling is Tso Rolpa, a lake that is now three kilometres long. And to the north is Dig Tsho, which burst in 1985,” says Sherpa.

Dik Tsho (Dig Tsho) glacial lake in Namche, Nepal. Image via Flickr by Matt Westoby. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

“We are facing one of the worst disasters since the Dig Tso flood. This is a wake-up call, not just for us in Khumbu region, but for the entire Himalaya to rethink our ways, find alternatives to reduce the risks, and explore measures to protect ourselves,” he adds.

The Thame flood was a smaller disaster compared to the flood that destroyed the Melamchi headworks in 2021, the massive Sikkim flood last year, or the debris flow that ravaged Kagbeni village in Mustang District of the Himalayas. All were caused by glacial lake bursts or moraine collapses due to extreme rainfall.

Anil Pokhrel of the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) flew to Thame on the morning of August 17th to inspect the glaciers above the village. He confirmed that two of five small glacial lakes below Tashi Lapcha pass had caused the flood. Satellite data shows that till two years ago, there were only four lakes.

Across the Himalayan mountain range, there are now thousands of new glacial lakes that do not even have names. In Nepal, the 20 most dangerous ones are located in the centre and east of the country, but there are dozens of enlarged lakes in China which drain into tributaries of rivers that flow into Nepal like the two Bhote Kosis, Arun and Tama Kosi.

Some of these lakes are infamous because of their volume, the rate at which they are expanding, and the potential danger they pose to populations downstream — like Tso Rolpa, Imja Tso and Thulagi.

But the Thame flood, and others like the Nare Lake outburst below Ama Dablam mountains in 1977 show that even smaller lakes can cause massive damage.

Even a relatively small flood like the one in Thame can be damaging far downstream. The debris flow moved swiftly downstream, destroying a bridge worth NPR 80 million (USD 596,000) on the Dudh Kosi in Okhaldhunga. Most villages downstream had been evacuated, so there were no casualties. If the flood had been bigger, it would have threatened major hydropower projects on the Dudh Kosi.

Thame is at an elevation of 3,840 metres, but Pokhrel of NDRRMA says he was surprised by how warm it was up there this week. “It felt like Kathmandu,” he says. “And satellite imagery shows accelerated melting of the upstream in the past month which could have led to the cascading collapse of the two lakes.”

In his preliminary report after observing the Thame, Pokhrel notes that the Forsey Precipitation Monitoring Station near the glacial outburst point was recording a total of 65 millimetres of rainfall per day. He wrote:

On August 16th, the temperature rose to a maximum of 15.9°C. On the same day, at the Rakhuwabazar Precipitation Monitoring Station in Khotang district near the Dudh Kosi River, the water level rose from 4.29 meters at 5:10PM to 5.53 meters at 5:40PM.

Glacial lake outbursts and debris flows are going to be more destructive and frequent in Nepal in the coming years, making them a fact of life. Seismic risk in the Himalayas adds to the dangers posed by the climate emergency.

Local communities and governments have no option but to adapt by installing early warning systems, planning smaller decentralised hydropower schemes, moving settlements and infrastructure higher, and conducting detailed hazard mapping.

“Thame showed us we cannot only rely on satellite mapping, and why in-situ observation is so important in a country with such a diverse topography and climate as ours,” says Sherpa. “There are more than 50,000 glaciers in the Himalayan region and we haven’t even studied one percent of them.”

Despite the scarcity of field data, there have been considerable advances in remote sensing technologies that have helped fill this gap in data and help understand the changing cryosphere. ICIMOD’s report shows that glacier mass loss has increased by 65 percent in recent decades. The report also warns that the risk of flooding could increase much more in the coming century.

Because so many of Nepal’s rivers are transboundary, a bilateral early warning mechanism with China is also urgent. Because of the scale of the danger, Nepal needs resources from the international community for adaptation, as well as loss and damage reparation to cope with future risks.

Tenzing Chogyal Sherpa co-founded a global advocacy campaign called #SaveOurSnow last year to provide local communities with agency to deal with climate-induced risk.

Through #SaveOurSnow Sherpa hopes that Himalayan communities can draw international attention to monsoon extremes, drying springs, winter droughts and heat waves so that they can adapt and survive. Sherpa says:

 As glaciers melt and lakes expand, disasters like Thame will be more frequent, we have to adapt. We need to tell our stories to the world, even as they continue to debate on the topic, we are already facing the brunt of it without having caused it ourselves. At local levels, we have to get back on our feet and prepare for what's coming.

Written by Nepali Times

Originally published on Global Voices

Nabin Pokharel, award-winning journalist. Image via author. Used with permission.

An esteemed, award-winning journalist who has profoundly influenced the Nepali diaspora community in the UK through his work, Nabin Pokharel brings over 17 years of experience as the UK correspondent for Kantipur Publications, a prominent media outlet in Nepal. He also serves as Chief Editor of Nepali Link, a leading online news portal in the UK. Under his leadership, Nepali Link has become a prominent platform for the Nepali diaspora, offering vivid descriptions and compelling narratives in both Nepali and English.

As the Founding President of the Federation of Nepalese Journalists (FNJ) UK chapter, Nabin has been instrumental in advancing Nepali journalism in the UK. His efforts have been recognized with numerous accolades, including the Nepali Literature Development Council (NLDC) UK Journalism Award (2016), the NRNA International Journalism Award (2017), the Best Media Personality Award (2020) by Media House Have a Movement, and the FNJ UK Journalist of the Year Award (2022).

Through Nepali Link, Nabin promotes impartial, independent journalism that preserves the Nepali language, connects the community and supports the diaspora. Along with Senior Journalist Bhagirath Yogi, Nabin co-authored a biography titled “Prof. Surya Subedi: From Doctorate to Nobel Peace Prize Nomination.” The book was recently launched in Nepal by Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal and in the UK by South Asia Time.

Global Voices interviewed Nabin Pokharel via email to explore his dedication to uniting Nepalis worldwide by amplifying diverse voices and stories while promoting Nepali language and culture.

Sangita Swechcha (SS): Can you tell us about your journey from Kantipur Publications to Chief Editor of Nepali Link? What inspired the creation of Nepali Link? How has your role as a UK correspondent for Kantipur shaped your view of the Nepali diaspora?

Nabin Pokharel (NP): When I arrived in the UK in September 2006, there were only a few active Nepali journalists, including those working for the BBC Nepali Service. The Nepali community was growing, and there were many issues to address. I felt that the issues of the Nepali diaspora needed to be raised. During Narayan Wagle’s tenure as editor of Kantipur Daily, I started regularly sending reports as a freelancer. The news and features I sent received good space and recognition, which encouraged me. My writing became more active, and in 2009, I was appointed as the UK correspondent for Kantipur Publications.

Since then, my journey has been continuous. Through Kantipur, I feel that I have been able to raise various issues of the Nepali diaspora in the UK, informing and awakening the people.

While working at Kantipur, I also contributed to ‘Europeko NepaliPatra’ weekly and Wenepali.com. For the past five years, I have been the editor-in-chief of NepaliLink.com. With the growing Nepali population in the UK (estimated at 150,000–200,000), and over 300 community organisations ranging from doctors and nurses associations, to Gurkha veterans organisations, and Non Residential Nepali Association (NRNA) UK, there is a growth of economic, social, political, and religious activities. The Nepalis residing in the UK are always eager and enthusiastic to stay connected with their diaspora. To meet this need, we launched NepaliLink.com five years ago.

SS: As the founding President of the Federation of Nepalese Journalists UK chapter, how do you see the role of Nepali journalism evolving in the UK? What are some of the unique challenges and opportunities for Nepali journalists here?

NP: After the increase in the arrival of Nepali journalists in the UK, we decided that everyone should be organised, so the Federation of Nepalese Journalists UK was established in 2012. I feel proud to be the founding president. During its establishment, it was challenging to form a branch due to the insufficient number of active journalists. However, now many are eager to take on leadership roles within the organisation. The membership of journalists has also increased.

Nepali journalists in the UK face significant challenges, particularly with news sources and financial issues. We don't have direct access to news sources. For anything beyond Nepali community news, such as writing about national issues in the UK, we have to rely on British newspapers. Occasionally, invitations for programmes come from UK government agencies, but they are usually through the Nepali embassy in London. Another challenge is that it is still not feasible to make a living through full-time journalism here. The small market for Nepali businesses makes it difficult to secure advertisements.

Nabin Pokharel after receiving the FNJ UK Journalist of the Year Award – 2022. Image via author. Used with permission.

SS: Nepali Link has emerged as a significant platform for the Nepali diaspora in the UK. What challenges did you face in establishing Nepali Link for the UK Nepali diaspora, and how did you overcome them?

NP: We are proud that Nepali Link has been able to highlight the activities of the Nepali diaspora in the UK. Dhruvaraj Aryal and Narendra Basnet are also part of Nepali Link. The collective effort of the team has encouraged us, as our website has become a reliable news source for both ordinary readers and intellectuals alike.

However, there were many challenges in the beginning. During the COVID pandemic, when this website was launched, many significant events were unfolding, but since the three of us were also busy with other jobs, we were concerned about how to update the latest news. Initially, without advertisements, we had to pay the staff in Nepal out of our own pockets. Now, with some advertisements and the responsibility of covering major events, we have gained some financial relief.

SS: Can you share key initiatives or stories that significantly support Nepali Link's goals of preserving the language, connecting the community, and encouraging the diaspora?

NP: I give equal priority to news from grassroots levels to high-profile stories. News doesn’t come by itself; I stay in contact with the general public in search of news. When the Nepali community wants to organise an event, I personally encourage them to send news stories.

Due to the strong relationships established with the Nepali community, there is no shortage of news. We present our content in simple Nepali language and prioritise news about Nepali language classes conducted to assist the second generation growing up in the UK. The simplicity and purity of the Nepali language are also of great concern to us.

SS: You have received several accolades, including the NRNA International Journalism Award and the FNJ UK Journalist of the Year Award. How have these recognitions influenced your work and your vision for Nepali Link?

NP: It's been nearly 17 years since I started working as a journalist in the UK. Before coming to the UK, I worked for about 5 years in mainstream daily newspapers in Nepal. After working for a long time, receiving awards from people who have evaluated my journalistic work has provided additional motivation. I believe it is the result of continuous dedication to impartial and professional journalism. When I receive an award, it not only enhances my personal reputation but also increases the prestige and credibility of the online portal I work for.

Written by Sangita Swechcha

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by Tanpa Dhakal via Nepali Times, used with permission.

This story was originally published by Tanka Dhakal at the Nepali Times. An edited version is republished below as part of a content-sharing agreement.

Yaks, which used to be the mainstay of the culture of Himalayan communities in Nepal, have been in steady decline because of lifestyle changes, human outmigration, inbreeding, and the impact of the climate crisis.

The National Agricultural Census shows that the total number of yaks in Nepal went down from 53,000 to 48,000 over the past three years. There are now fewer than 10,000 households across the mountains rearing yaks for a living.

Yaks are the generic name for the long-haired, bison-like oxen that live at 4,000–5,000 metres (approximately 13,000–16,000 feet) in the Himalayan mountain range and the Tibetan plateau.

The country's Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock Development runs a Yak Genetic Resource Centre in Syangboche at 3,885 m (12,746 ft). Established in 1973, the centre is supposed to ensure that the yak population of the Khumbu region remains robust, gives adequate milk, and maintains a healthy variation in its genotype.

The centre keeps 155 yaks for research, but a lack of budget and competing priorities mean that it has not been able to fulfil its true potential in meeting the challenges this domesticated cattle species faces.

“All we are doing is protecting the yaks we have; we do not have the resources to conduct genetic studies,” admits technical officer Ramlallan Yadav, who has been stationed at the centre for the past 24 years.

Yak in Langtang Valley where the milk is used to produce Emmental cheese. Image by Kunda Dixit/Nepali Times, used with permission.

The high-altitude cattle are all lumped together, but there are specific types. Nak are female domesticated yak. Chauri, or dzo, are females born from yak-nak mating with lowland cows. A lang is a Tibetan bull, while a female calf born from a lang is known as a dimzo. A calf born from a yak and a lowland mountain cow is a urang. The dwarf lulu found in the districts of Mustang and Manang is a mixture of lowland cattle with yaks.

A recent decline in the population of purebred yak-nak, coupled with the difficulty in accessing Tibetan bulls, means that farmers now have more urang than dimzo. In addition, male calves known as jopke or tole — born from crossbreeding — cannot continue the generation and are used only as pack animals in the high Himalayas.

“A nak gives at most two litres of milk a day, while a chauri can produce as much as six litres daily,” explains yak researcher Shanker Raj Barsila. “If we had facilities for genetic studies, we could improve the hardiness of the species. Yak milk has medicinal properties and is generally healthier than dairy milk.”

Image by Kunda Dixit/Nepali Times, used with permission.

Besides the changing lifestyles of local populations, outmigration, and lack of access to traditional pastures in Tibet, Barsila points to inbreeding as the main challenge facing Nepal’s yaks. This is manifested in yak-naks being more prone to disease, a reduction in milk production, and yaks lacking horns.

Explaining that the agricultural census mixes up different types of yak, Barsila estimates that contrary to the figures, there are only about 20,000 yak-nak, and 40,000 to 60,000 chauri — numbers that are declining further because of climate breakdown, which is warming the mountains and affecting pastures due to deficient snowfall in winter.

“The snow that should fall from October to November now falls in March to May, and the wind blows in January to February.” Yadav says. “And all winter, there is just dry, cold wind.”

Human outmigration is directly linked to declining yak herds. Young people leaving mountain villages for Kathmandu or abroad means the next generation is not following the ancestral occupation of pastoralism, and fewer yaks place the intangible heritage of yak-rearing within a pastoral culture — complete with festivals, local diet, vocabulary and intimate knowledge about the habits of the animals — in danger of being lost forever.

Yak milk is hardened into chhurpi, a traditional cheese that preserves dairy protein for times when milk is not as plentiful. Yak milk is also used in brewing salty Himalayan tea favoured by people of the higher altitudes, and its butter is used for sacred lamps in monasteries. Yak hair is woven into woollen clothing and blankets, and yak meat is consumed.

“The domesticated yak is now becoming an endangered species due to migration from the mountains and shrinking grazing areas due to environmental impact,” says Prajwal Sharma of the International Organisation for Migration (IOM), who recently researched the impact of migration on yak rearing in Helambu, north of Kathmandu.

During his field research, Sharma observed that the number of farmers moving to high pastures with their herds in the summer — and descending to lower elevations during winter — has decreased. In Syangboche, meanwhile, Yadav has observed changes in the pasture grass because of years of winter drought.

Image by Kunda Dixit/Nepali Times, used with permission.

The mating season of the yak-nak has also been affected. “Earlier,” Yadav explains, almost all nak conceived on time, but now there are seasonal changes. Mating season used to be July to August; now it is October to November.”

Additionally, the pastureland where grass used to grow in April was barren. In Yadav’s experience in recent years, grass and herbs have only started sprouting from May to June.

The Syangboche centre sells yak milk, but the income is not even enough to buy potatoes for the yaks, let alone conduct genetic studies. The National Animal Breeding and Genetic Research Centre is supposed to study indigenous and local animal breeds, but its chief, Sagar Paudel, says there has been no study of the yak-nak inbreeding problem.

The National Cattle Research Program, located in Rampur in the district headquarters of Chitwan, has surveyed yak-nak in Rasuwa and Mustang to find out more about their adaptability to climate change, but there is no detailed genetic study planned.

Further research could help find ways for yak-nak and chauri to adapt to both weather extremes and a heating Himalaya mountain range.

Written by Nepali Times

Originally published on Global Voices

Sipadol village in Bhaktapur district in Central Nepal just a year apart between 2022 to 2023. Photo by Amit Machamasi. Used with permission.

This story was originally published by Nepali Times. An edited version is republished on Global Voices as part of a content-sharing agreement.

Kathmandu Valley, once known for its bumper harvests of rice, has seen declining production because urban expansion is devouring once-fertile rice fields.

There are still some terraces on the outskirts of the city that have rice fields, but even these are threatened by new settlements. The same is true of Pokhara Valley, home to Pokhreli, Jetha Buda and other brands of indigenous rice.

The middle of Asar (the third month of the Nepali calendar) is time for rice planting, and June 29 was supposed to be National Paddy Plantation Day. It is a festival not just for transplanting paddy seedlings on water-logged fields, but also for jubiliation and merrymaking.

This year, there was not much to celebrate on Paddy Planting Day. Only 10 percent of farms across Nepal have transplanted paddy seedlings, whereas the normal figure for late June is double that.

An excavator makes way for land plotting even as a child prepares to plant rice saplings in Bhaktapur's Sipadol village. Photo by Amit Machamasi. Used with permission.

The monsoon has been starting weeks later than its usual mid-June arrival in Nepal, which many experts blame on climate breakdown. This year, the rains actually arrived a week early in the aftermath of Cyclone Remal (May 24–28), and unleashed floods and landslides in eastern Nepal in mid-June, while the western half of the country was enduring a prolonged drought.

The clouds did advance up to central Nepal, but the rains fizzled out, prolonging the drought. When the monsoon did arrive in Kathmandu Valley on June 27, it was too little too late. Kathmandu Valley usually receives 250 milimeters of rain in June, this year the figure so far has been only 125 millimetres, which could have significant ramifications for the growing season and water access.

The chronic lack of subsidised fertiliser during the planting season due to inefficient government procurement and delivery mechanisms also meant that many farmers were not ready to transplant paddy even if the rains came.

Rice is grown in Kathmandu and other mountain valleys, in the Tarai region and up to 3,200 meters in Jumla district, which is famous for its nutritious red Marasi rice.

The Tarai is Nepal’s rice basket, producing most of its paddy. Although the plains cover 15 percent of Nepal’s area, 53 percent of the population lives there. Here too, settlements along highways and major intersections are eating into rice fields.

Kathmandu's unrestrained growth as seen from Halchowk area in 2020. Photo by Amit Machamasi. Used with permission.

So far this year, rice planting has started in only three percent of the area of Madhes Province because of the delayed rains and a prolonged heatwave. The province produces a quarter of Nepal’s rice in a normal year.

The western Tarai has been particularly badly hit by a heatwave that lasted into June with daytime temperatures soaring to 45 degrees Celsius (115 degrees Fahrenheit) and staying there. Rainfed farms have not planted rice, and those that used to pump water from tube wells have not been able to do so because of a falling water table.

Outmigration from rural areas and falling rice production have become a chicken-or-egg problem: Is rice production falling because people are turning away from farming, or is declining paddy production driving people away from agriculture?

In this photo from 2021, hills in the outskits of Kathmandu Valley have been cleared for land development. Photo by Amit Machamasi. Used with permission.

The annual Rice Day has therefore become not a time for celebration, but a reminder Nepal's newfound dependence on rice imports.

Nepal spent NPR 35 billion (USD 262 million) in 2023 to import rice and paddy, which was a slight decline from the previous year but is still more than all its exports. Nepalis are eating more rice than ever before as people turn away from traditional grains like millet and buckwheat, and because of a falling poverty rate as well as the spread of the road network.

Still, the country’s population growth rate is outpacing the increase in rice harvests. Rice productivity has hit an all-time high of 3.8 tons/hectare with irrigation and mechanisation, but total production is not increasing as much because of a decrease in area under rice cultivation.

Nepal once used to be a rice-exporting country. If current trends continue, Nepal will be spending nearly everything it earns from remittances on importing petroleum products and rice.

Written by Nepali Times

Originally published on Global Voices

A suckermouth catfish kept in an aquarium. Image by Maxmann via Pixabay. Used under a Pixabay License

A highly invasive vermiculated sailfin catfish, originally from the Madeira River Basin in South America, is poised to be a major threat to native fish in the rivers of Eastern Nepal. Around four years ago, in July 2020, a pair of suckermouth catfish was found in an irrigation canal in Belbari, Morang District of Eastern Nepal. The news quickly went viral in news outlets and social media. Similar reports emerged from the Lohandra River in October 2021, with anecdotal evidence of the fish being found as early as May 2018 in a pond in Dhanusha District, approximately 200 kilometres west of Morang District.

Vaskar Nepal, Assistant Professor of Biology at Western Illinois University, tweeted:

Non-native suckermouth catfish in Nepal. Second such capture in the country. Unfortunately, it was released back. Experts suspect that the fish was released from aquarium trade. https://t.co/cWBHzsPyj2

— Vaskar Nepal, PhD (@NepalVaskar) October 31, 2021

A team led by Jash Hang Limbu, a researcher with the College of Fisheries and Life Science at Shanghai Ocean University, studied the prevalence of this fish in river systems of Eastern Nepal. According to a research paper published in the journal BioInvasions Records, the team collected 43 individuals of Pterigoplichthys from the Lohandra River. The fish were identified as Pterigoplichthys disjunctivus, commonly known as vermiculated sailfin catfish or sailfin suckermouth catfish.

How did a fish from South America land in Nepali waters?

Speaking online with Global Voices, Limbu said, “Although the fish was sighted for the first time in Belbari, it has spread across places like Belbari, Pathari and Ratuwa River. It has an established population in Lohandra River.” He added that a different species of fish of the same genus was recently found in a canal in Damak, a town in the Jhapa District of Eastern Nepal.

“The fish might have escaped from an aquarium or might have travelled northwards from Indian rivers,” Limbu said with uncertainty.

Researchers in neighbouring India also found the same species in the waters of the Ganges River, West Bengal during their surveys in 2018. Since the rivers from Nepal flow into the Ganges and other rivers, some speculate the fish swam northwards to infiltrate Nepal's waterways.

Likewise, the vermiculated sailfin catfish has been recorded in 17 rivers across Bangladesh, with well-established breeding population in four localities.

A highly invasive ornamental fish

Commercially traded and often kept in aquariums, these fish can survive in all sorts of environmental conditions — ranging from cool, fast-flowing, highland streams to slow-flowing, warm lowland rivers and even in swamps, floodplain lakes and stagnant pools with polluted water and low oxygen level. Named after its suctorial mouth which can attach to surfaces, the suckermouth catfish eats detritus and algae and has an enlarged stomach which appears to function as an accessory respiratory organ.

Although their effect on native fish in the river is not comprehensible, researchers opine that they might threaten the native inhabitant species by disrupting the aquatic food chain and competing with native fish for food. A food competition experiment was carried out in Bangladesh by a team led by Md. Taksin Parvez demonstrated that the growth and survival rate of native fish can be adversely impacted in the presence of sailfin catfish.

As they are voracious feeders and have no natural predators, their number might increase rapidly enough to displace native fish species.

How to stop the spread of suckermouth catfish?

With its ability to adapt to any kind of environment, the vermiculated sailfin catfish, if not stopped spreading in Nepal’s waters on time, might pose a high risk to the native species and livelihoods of traditional fishermen, suggest Limbu and the team.

Conducting mass awareness campaigns is a must to inform the public, policymakers, researchers and traders about threats posed by the introduction of such invasive species in natural water systems.

Moving forward, scientists say it is crucial to monitor the spread of this fish and implement strict measures to prevent the intentional or unintentional release of non-native fish in natural water systems.

Written by Sanjib Chaudhary