Submit your Article

As a child, I spent countless hours playing with friends on open fields and bare ground. Growing up in Bhaktapur felt like growing up in one big open space, where I could wander freely without restrictions. My parents often warned me not to stay outside too long because they worried about my safety. Today, the situation has completely reversed: we have to encourage children to go outside and take a break from their mobile phones. Bhaktapur once had many open spaces, and even now a few grounds and resting areas remain, though far and few in between.

Sita aunty, my neighbor who has known me since childhood, grew up in Suryabinayak. She recalls roaming Bhaktapur’s alleys every day. Children were usually sent to school at the age of five, and they explored the city more freely than today. “Nowadays, parents are so busy with their work that giving a mobile phone to their children feels convenient and reliable,” she said. “They feel at least their children are indoors and not wandering wherever they please.”

She added, “I had more friends outside my school than inside. But now children stay indoors and don’t learn how to make friends or communicate.”

While talking, she recalled places where she once played, many of which have now turned into concrete buildings. Only one space remains, now divided between a playground and a cremation area.

Deepak Byanju, another local from Bhaktapur in his 40s who grew up in Golmadhi, also misses his old neighborhood. There were fewer vehicles back then, he said, and children could move around freely without disturbance. Today, the area has become crowded, mainly due to the influx of domestic and international tourists who shop there.

“I miss my old home environment where I played with my neighborhood friends,” he said. “But I feel sad for my child, who barely goes outside. The only places he steps out to are the veranda or the roof, and even then he’s on his phone.”

Byanju added that rapid construction and infrastructure expansion have swallowed play areas. At the same time, everything children need is now available on a phone, making outdoor exploration feel unnecessary to them.

The Ministry of Federal Affairs and General Administration (MoFAGA) has developed new resource materials to support the government’s goal of declaring all 753 local levels as ‘child-friendly zones’ by 2030. To achieve this, MoFAGA has set out a comprehensive strategy, mainstreaming child rights, policy advocacy, institutional strengthening, partnerships, community mobilisation, social accountability, equitable programming, behavioural change initiatives, and strong monitoring and evaluation. Local governments must meet several indicators to achieve child-friendly status, including building playgrounds and ensuring access to open spaces.

Bhaktapur’s urban structure reflects its Newar heritage, with attached houses and narrow alleys. But because it is also a city of festivals, the main roads remain comparatively wide to accommodate celebrations.

When it comes to children’s play spaces, Bhaktapur still relies heavily on its traditional environment: small alleys, chowks, temple premises, pati/phalcha (communal resting shelters), and, most prominently, Bhaktapur Durbar Square. These are the places where children gather safely and spend their time.

The narrow alleys are so interconnected that no matter which one you take, you will eventually end up at the same familiar place. Chowks, small courtyards surrounded by houses, provide safe spaces for play in the city’s core. Pati and phalcha (traditional public shelters near temples and crossroads) serve as lively social hubs where children often gather. And then there is Bhaktapur Durbar Square, a large open area free of traffic, where children can run, play, and relax after school or on weekends.

But the population has grown and the generation has changed. Bhaktapur District’s population rose from 304,651 in 2011 to 432,132 in 2021. Bhaktapur Municipality itself grew between 2001 and 2011 but saw a slight decline by 2021, possibly due to saturation of the old urban core. Changunarayan’s population jumped from 58,006 in 2011 to 88,083 in 2021. Madhyapur Thimi steadily expanded from 47,751 in 2001 to 119,756 in 2021, emerging as a major residential and commercial hub. Suryabinayak grew fastest—from 55,744 in 2001 to 140,085 in 2021—likely driven by urbanisation, new housing, and migration.

Rabindra Sapkota, spokesperson for Suryabinayak Municipality, said, “As part of being a child-friendly municipality, we are institutionalizing at least one playground in each ward.” For a proper playground, government land is needed, which is difficult to secure. As a result, the municipality has built football courts, badminton courts, and open spaces across many wards. “We plan to declare child-friendly wards by 2026, guided by standards that include education, playgrounds, and more,” he said.

According to Sapkota, Ward 7 has two to three open parks; Ward 6 has football courts with weekly training; Ward 8 has both football and badminton courts. Similar facilities are coming up in other wards. Each ward has contributed Rs 1 million, and the municipality has allocated Rs 10m. He estimates that around Rs 20m will be spent on the initiative this year.

Damodar Suwal, spokesperson of Bhaktapur Municipality, said, “Bhaktapur is built in a way that we must consider everyone. Our infrastructure reflects this, as do our heritage sites, festivals, and celebrations.”

He added that the municipality has built pati pauwa, chowks, and dabali (open stages for rituals, theatre, and festivals) where people can gather and rest. Children continue to enjoy playing in these culturally rich surroundings. Bhaktapur still has several open spaces, including Mahiswori playground, Kamalbinayak, Libali, and Sahid Smriti grounds, open to all age groups.

“Most chowks,” Suwal added, “include wells, pati, dhunge dhara (stone taps), and dyo chhen (temples). Every ward has its own space meant for people of all types.”

The Bagmati Province Child-Friendly Local Governance (CFLG) Monitoring Team visited Changunarayan Municipality on 6 Nov 2025 to assess its progress as the first CFLG-declared municipality in the Kathmandu Valley. Since securing the designation in 2021 by meeting rigorous MoFAGA guidelines and 51 indicators, Changunarayan has strengthened child clubs, improved infrastructure, eliminated child labor in 52 brick kilns, and built inclusive governance mechanisms such as child networks. Mayor Khatri said the nearly Rs 3m allocated annually for children is “an investment in future citizens and leaders.”

Krishna Hari Acharya, a ward chairperson from Madhyapur Thimi Municipality, added, “We already have four playgrounds, parks, and open spaces near ponds, and even more are coming. At dawn, children as young as six run across the football fields. We’ve started sports training through a local club to nurture young talent. Slides and swings brighten the open spaces, and new play areas are rising one after another as we work to create a truly child-friendly environment.”

Every morning as Kathmandu wakes, street dogs stretch out of alleys, temple courtyards, and construction sites. They belong to everyone and no one. But behind their wagging tails and familiar faces is a silent struggle for survival of hunger, accidents, mistreatment, and the deadly threat of rabies.

The story follows the life of one street dog—Tommy, a few years back, he used to live in my locality. Local shopkeepers fed him scraps, but no one knows his age or where he came from. He used to live in front of my house where he felt safe. One day, Tommy gets into a fight with a pack from a nearby area, and a small wound goes unnoticed. Within days, his behaviour changes—he becomes restless, aggressive, and later disappears. One day while returning from school, we learned he was taken by some people in the van. His story reflects what happens to thousands of strays each year.

The numbers tell a serious story. According to Nepal in data report, Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) data from 2016 estimated around 30,000 stray dogs roaming the city. By 2018, veterinary doctors noted that this number had increased, citing the lack of government measures to manage the population. The World Organization for Animal Health (WOAH) reported in 2019 that Nepal had a total dog population of over 2.7m, of which approximately 2m were community or stray dogs and estimates for Kathmandu specifically range from 19,000 to over 30,000.

Animal Nepal (2022 report) shows that they have sterilized 1,968 dogs across Lalitpur, Kirtipur, Mahagadhimai, Lumbini, and Nepalgunj, treated 1,892 dogs in Kathmandu Valley and Lumbini for injuries and illnesses, vaccinated 3,337 dogs against rabies in multiple districts and facilitated adoption for 24 rescued dogs.

Voice of Animal Nepal (VOAN) (2024 report) notes that they have rescued and cared for over 1,350 injured, abandoned, or abused animals, sterilized over 100 dogs and cats in Kathmandu and nearby districts, and vaccinated 450 animals against rabies in partnership with local authorities. It has also estimated 22,000 street dogs throughout Kathmandu Valley.
Despite Nepal’s commitment to eliminate dog-mediated human rabies deaths by 2030, the reality on the ground paints a different picture.

Vaccine shortages, inadequate dog population management, misinformation, and deeply ingrained social stigma toward street dogs continue to hamper progress. Coordinated surveillance is minimal, meaning no reliable data exists on how many dogs are vaccinated, sterilized, or suffering from disease.

Legally, municipalities are responsible for managing street dogs, yet many lack the resources or rely on outdated practices like poisoning, despite legal bans. Consequently, dogs are often blamed and harmed instead of being protected or vaccinated. Fear and misinformation lead to killings, cruelty, and public apathy. Some neighbourhoods feed and care for dogs, while others throw stones or poison them. Public attitudes directly shape the fate of street dogs.

At the same time, NGOs, veterinarians, activists, and youth volunteers continue to make a difference. They run sterilization camps, vaccinate dogs, rescue the injured, and advocate for humane treatment.

Rupa Adhikari, a member of VOAN, explains the challenges on the ground, “Rabies vaccinations are provided by municipalities, and we collaborate with them. The vaccinations come from the government, and we help to administer them.

On a daily basis, we vaccinate 100–150 dogs. The government has been more helpful than before, but their interest is limited. They complain about a lack of budget. Often, they prefer to collaborate with private entities rather than NGOs. Even when we collaborate, vaccinations are conducted only in open areas, not narrow streets or densely populated localities.”

Adhikari highlighted that there is no proper implementation or legal threat for those who abuse animals. “In one case, an owner beat a dog, but the police showed little interest. We try to intervene, but sometimes, due to lack of evidence, we can’t do much. Many people think ‘they are just dogs,’ and that mindset is a major challenge.”

Advocates stress the need for a comprehensive legal framework and stronger government commitment. While police sometimes support animal welfare cases, widespread indifference continues to hinder progress.

Roman Raghu Shrestha, a veterinarian and surgeon at the Kathmandu Animal Treatment Centre (KAT), said, “We work on animal birth control surgeries, and we regularly vaccinate any animals brought to us. In the areas where we have worked—Tokha Municipality and Budhanilkantha Municipality—the estimated dog populations are 1,200–1,500 and 2,000–2,500 respectively. These figures are tentative, as the data vary between institutions and are recorded by the municipalities.”

In terms of awareness, they run programs in about 30 schools and colleges, reaching students from grade six up to the bachelor’s level. However, when it comes to policy, it has not been revised for a long time. The policies remain unchanged since their early introduction, and the resulting actions have been very limited.

“We do collaborate with the government on different campaigns. But regarding the rabies vaccine tracking system—an app designed to keep records, I didn’t feel comfortable using it, so we decided not to use it,” Shrestha said.

At the ministry level, officials acknowledge both the efforts made and the challenges ahead. Indira Sharma, veteran and information officer at the Department of Livestock Services, described the government’s approach, “We collaborate with everyone and engage with NGOs from time to time. They focus more on community welfare and advocacy, and we engage with them in policy-making and decision-making processes. Sometimes NGOs expect financial support which the government can’t provide at the moment.”

Sharma said that for legal punishment of animal abuse, the government is not directly responsible; local ministries look after these cases.”

She highlighted that for the 2030 rabies elimination goal, they follow “One Health” approach in collaboration with the Health Ministry adding, “We are working on Animal Birth Control Surgery at provincial and district hospitals to manage dog populations and running awareness programs by distributing pamphlets and posters, as well as using online campaigns via ministry websites and Facebook pages to educate communities.”

“The ministry is also engaged in policy development, working on regulations and guidelines to strengthen animal welfare. Disease surveillance is another key focus, with rabies prevalence monitored across animals through sample testing, supported by regional labs such as the Dhangadi Veterinary Lab,” she added.
Additionally, in fiscal year 2024/25, the government provided 154,000 doses of rabies vaccines, while private sectors imported more to supplement vaccination coverage. However, she noted challenges, “There is no dedicated budget for vaccination or animal welfare and collaboration with NGOs lacks a clear mechanism. As a ministry, we cannot reach everywhere, and that is a major problem.”

Nepal has more than half a million street dogs, yet many municipalities lack proper sterilization, vaccination programs, or shelters. Rabies, a 100 percent preventable disease, still claims lives every year—mostly among children in low-income communities. Lack of sterilization leads to unmanageable numbers of puppies, many of whom die from disease, starvation, or accidents.

Only a fraction of street dogs receive anti-rabies vaccines, and post-exposure treatment remains inaccessible to many.
The struggle of Kathmandu’s street dogs is a reflection of systemic gaps and the complex interplay between humans and animals.

Yet amidst this grim reality, the work of NGOs, veterinarians, and volunteers provides hope, illustrating that with coordinated effort, compassion, and policy support, the lives of street dogs and the safety of communities can be significantly improved.

In the narrow alleys and bustling courtyards of the Kathmandu Valley, one can still spot a few elders hunched over a hand-drawn grid, deep in concentration. Their fingers move small stones across intersecting lines etched on the ground—a scene that has quietly endured for generations. The game is called Bagh Chal, translating to “tiger’s move,” a traditional Nepali board game. As a child I remember playing with friends by drawing on paper as introduced by my father. We would roll paper and name them after tigers and goats.

Once a common pastime among both young and old, Bagh Chal is now fading into obscurity. “When we were children, everyone knew how to play it,” recalls a local resident. “We would draw the board on the floor or paper and play for hours. But now, I hardly see children playing it anymore.” With the rise of digital gaming and mobile entertainment, traditional games like Bagh Chal have lost much of their foothold.

Gopal Shrestha, nearly 90, reminisced about the days when he would play Bagh Chal carefree with anyone he found in the corners of the neighborhood. “The game is slowly losing its value, and I fear this generation might not be interested in it,” he said. But he remained hopeful and said, “Perhaps people can revive it by playing again, because everything comes back in cycles like fashion, culture, and traditions. Bagh Chal can be brought back if people take an interest in it.”

Bagh Chal is played between two players, one controlling four tigers and the other twenty goats. The board consists of a 5×5 point grid, with pieces placed at the intersections rather than within the squares. The tigers begin on the corners, while the goats are introduced one at a time. Before the start of the game, the twenty goats are placed outside the board, and the four tigers are positioned in the four corners. Players move alternately, with the goats always starting first. The actions made by the goats divide the game into two phases. 

In the first phase, while all twenty goats have not yet been placed on the board, the only possible move is to place one of them at a free junction. In the second phase, after all goats have been placed, they may move from their position to any adjacent junction following a straight line. The tigers, throughout the game, may perform two types of movements: like goats, they can move along any line to an adjacent junction, or they may capture a goat on an adjacent point by jumping over it along a straight line and landing on the next free junction.

Jayaram Hada, a local resident of Bhaktapur, shared, “It’s refreshing to hear young people talk about these traditional games because not many are interested in them anymore. I often see my grandchildren glued to their phones and digital games, which aren’t good for their health either. Bagh Chal is such a strategic game—it sharpens the mind and keeps you alert.” He added with a smile that he would love to play again, though his aching knees now make it difficult for him to move around the corners of the courtyard as he once did.

Occasionally, the game can fall into a repetitive cycle of positions—often used by goats as a defensive tactic. To prevent endless repetition, an additional rule has been established: once all goats have been placed, no move is allowed that recreates a previously repeated position within the same game. The tigers win by capturing at least five goats, achieved by leaping over them into an adjacent empty spot, while the goats win by blocking all tigers so they can no longer move.

For the tigers, movement is allowed to any adjacent free point along the connecting lines. They can capture goats at any time, even before all the goats have been placed on the board, but only one goat can be captured in a single move. A tiger may jump over a goat in any direction as long as there is an open space to land, but it cannot jump over another tiger.

The goats, on the other hand, cannot move until all have been positioned on the board. When a goat is captured, it is permanently removed from play. Unlike tigers, goats cannot jump over any pieces, whether tigers or other goats. The game concludes when the tigers have captured five goats or when the goats successfully block all possible moves of the tigers. The game ends when either the tigers capture five goats or the goats completely trap the tigers.

Bagh Chal shares similarities with South India’s Aadu Puli Aattam (the Lambs and Tigers game), yet its identity remains distinctly Nepali—often played with stones especially on the floor. Today, some enthusiasts and developers have digitized Bagh Chal, creating mobile versions to introduce it to newer generations. But for many, the tactile pleasure of drawing the grid on the floor and playing under the open sky remains irreplaceable.

As air pollution continues to choke the Kathmandu Valley, concerns over another major environmental crisis—plastic waste are mounting. Despite a series of ambitious government pledges to eliminate single-use plastics, implementation remains ineffective, and the problem is only getting worse.

Nepal first announced a ban on plastic bags in 2015, aiming to reduce non-biodegradable waste and protect major rivers. According to the government’s official gazette published on 1 April 2015, the production, import, sale, and use of plastic bags smaller than 20 inches wide, 35 inches long, and thinner than 40 microns were prohibited within the valley. The decision came into force on 14 April 2015, with plans to extend it nationwide. For a brief moment, the effort seemed successful—many citizens began carrying reusable bags, and plastic use in city markets visibly declined.

However, the devastating earthquake in 2015 and the subsequent Indian blockade derailed the momentum. The government’s focus shifted toward disaster relief and survival logistics, and plastic bags once again flooded the market. Relief efforts relied heavily on plastic packaging, further entrenching its use. In the years that followed, plastic bags made a full comeback, undermining years of environmental advocacy.

Since then, the government has made the same promise multiple times. In its annual budget speech for the fiscal year 2021/22, then Finance Minister Bishnu Paudel declared a complete ban on plastic bags thinner than 40 microns. This was the third such announcement by the federal government. “I have made arrangements to use cotton, jute or paper bags instead of plastic bags in all business houses including shopping malls and department stores,” Paudel stated, adding that companies replacing old plastic manufacturing machines would receive grants.

Yet, like previous declarations, the enforcement never materialized. Industrialists remained largely silent, with some expressing doubts about the feasibility of such a ban. Even the Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) had pledged to make the city plastic-free within a year in its 2019/20 policy plan. That commitment, too, was abandoned without a single round of market monitoring.

Implementation efforts have been repeatedly hindered by external and internal factors. Apart from the 2015 disasters, protests by plastic industrialists and legal challenges have struck enforcement. In 2018, a writ petition filed at the Supreme Court by Explore Nepal Pvt. Ltd. temporarily halted the new ban. The court issued an interim order preventing the government from implementing its decision, leaving plastic production and use unchecked once again.

The Department of Environment’s monitoring drives have also been inconsistent. Local governments and district offices have often turned a blind eye to ongoing violations, making the ban little more than a paper directive. In 2023, the Ministry of Federal Affairs and General Administration once again announced a ban on plastic bags below 40 microns. The ministry’s secretary, Krishna Hari Pushkar, urged citizens to stop using thin plastic bags and called on all levels of government to enforce the rule.

According to a 2020 World Bank report, Nepal generates an estimated 4,900 tons of solid waste each day, with plastic waste accounting for about 13 percent of the total. According to the Waste Management Baseline Survey 2022, plastic accounted for 12 percent of household waste, 21 percent of institutional waste, and 22 percent of waste generated by commercial establishments. Yet, no tangible progress followed the 2023 announcement either. 

According to a 2024 World Bank report, Nepal generates around 60,000 tons of plastic waste annually, with a significant portion—nearly one-third—ending up in rivers that eventually flow into India and Ocean. Globally, about 8bn tons of plastic have accumulated in oceans, making the water increasingly acidic and threatening aquatic life. This pollution also affects the planet’s oxygen cycle, as oceans produce nearly 50 percent of the Earth’s oxygen, which is now under threat.

Environmental expert Ujjwal Upadhaya explains that globally, around 360m tons of plastic are produced each year, of which about 1m metric tons end up producing daily. When a plastic is formed, 6.1kg carbon emission is produced. 

Upadhaya further noted that studies in Brazil found microplastic particles in the brains of 33 deceased individuals, highlighting serious global health concerns. Similar research has yet to be conducted in Nepal. He added that the average person in Nepal carries an estimated 15 grams of microplastics in their body.

Moreover, the open burning of plastics releases dioxin gas, one of the most toxic pollutants, which remains concentrated at low altitudes, directly harming both humans and animals.

The Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) also announced a ban on the open burning of waste and plastic materials to curb worsening air pollution during the winter months. According to the KMC Environment Department, the decision aims to reduce environmental and health risks linked to smoke and toxic emissions from burning plastics. Department Chief Sarita Rai emphasized that offenders will face a fine of Rs 10,000 per violation, noting that air pollution in the Valley spikes each winter due to widespread open burning. The ban prioritizes protecting vulnerable populations—especially children, the elderly, and people with respiratory or heart conditions. To ensure effective enforcement, KMC has launched awareness and monitoring campaigns under the Kathmandu Metropolitan City Environment and Natural Resources Conservation Act, 2020, and the Fiscal Act, 2025.

Plastics pose significant threats not only to the environment but also to public health. There are seven main types of plastic, each with distinct uses, recyclability, and health impacts. PET (Polyethylene Terephthalate) is commonly used in water and mineral bottles and can be recycled; however, once recycled, it should not be reused for drinking purposes as it may release harmful chemicals. Recent tests even found 75–85 units of microplastic particles in some water jars, raising serious health concerns. 

HDPE (High-Density Polyethylene), found in shampoo and detergent bottles, is recyclable and safer for reuse in non-food products. LDPE (Low-Density Polyethylene), used in plastic wraps and carry bags, is also recyclable but often poorly managed in Nepal. PP (Polypropylene), used for grain sacks (bora), bottle caps, and food containers, can be recycled if proper facilities are available. 

However, MLP (Multi-Layered Plastic)—commonly seen in chips and instant noodle packets—is known as “ugly plastic” because it is non-recyclable and harmful to both human health and the environment. Chemicals from such packaging can leach into food, posing risks especially to children, and Nepal currently lacks a system to monitor food packaging quality. PVC (Polyvinyl Chloride), used in pipes and wires, is difficult to recycle and releases toxic gases when burned. Finally, ABS (Acrylonitrile Butadiene Styrene), found in toys and electronic products, is one of the most hazardous plastics, as it is non-biodegradable and can release toxic substances that endanger both humans and animals.

Upadhaya said, “Burning of these plastics releases microplastics into the air, which we inhale. Some particles can enter the olfactory bulb—the part of the brain responsible for smell—potentially increasing the risk of brain strokes. Microplastics also travel down to the lungs, affecting vital organs such as the kidneys, liver, lungs, and heart.” He also said that when the body tries to cope with such damage, it can trigger the development of cancer, which ultimately harms our health.

According to a report by the Monterey Bay Aquarium, plastic does not biodegrade but breaks down into microplastics—particles less than 5 millimeters in size. These have been found everywhere, from the depths of the oceans to Antarctic snow, and even inside human lungs and bloodstreams.

The United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) has confirmed microplastic traces in human organs such as the liver, kidneys, and placenta, raising alarm over potential health consequences. Similarly, the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) reports that carcinogenic chemicals from plastics can leach into tap water, posing severe risks to human and ecological health.

Upadhaya said, “At present, Nepal mainly consumes salt imported from the ocean, which contains around five grams of microplastics per kilogram. People who regularly eat seafood tend to have even higher amounts of microplastics in their bodies.” He also noted that plastic pollution contributes to urban flooding by blocking drainage systems. According to him, “We cannot live without plastic, as it has become part of every aspect of our lives. However, the key is to reduce the use of the most harmful types, such as ABS plastic, and ensure that any plastic produced is properly recycled and responsibly disposed of.”

Recycling has often been promoted as a solution, but the challenges are alarming. Contamination from food residue, high processing costs, and limited infrastructure make large-scale recycling inefficient in Nepal. It reduces landfill waste, conserves natural resources like petroleum, prevents environmental contamination, and decreases marine pollution. Recycling also mitigates microplastic formation and promotes public health by reducing exposure to toxic substances.

Experts argue that government policy alone cannot solve the plastic crisis. Consumers must adopt more sustainable habits—using reusable shopping bags, avoiding over-packaged goods, and participating in recycling programs. Supporting eco-friendly businesses and community-led recycling initiatives can also foster long-term change. Sangita Tamang, a grocery shopkeeper said she is compelled to use plastic bags despite knowing their environmental impact. “Clothes bags are expensive, and customers don’t want to pay extra for them,” she explained. “People are willing to pay for reusable bags in big malls, but when small shopkeepers like us charge for them, they accuse us of trying to make more money. So, we are forced to keep using plastic bags,” she added with a note of frustration.

The number of animals consuming plastic waste is also on the rise, as many ingest it unknowingly and die as a result. Upadhaya cited an example from the National park, where wild animals died after choking on plastic. He explained that plastic pollution not only harms land animals but also affects aquatic life, leading to a decline in fish populations. This, in turn, impacts the livelihoods of people who depend on fishing. Species such as the gharial and dolphin are also declining as their food sources diminish due to increasing plastic contamination in rivers and water bodies.

Globally, plastic production has skyrocketed—from 1.5m metric tons in 1950 to 359m metric tons in 2018—with between 4.8 and 12.7m tons ending up in oceans annually, according to PlasticsEurope.

Several organizations in Nepal including Doko Recyclers, Khalisisi, Upcycle Nepal, and Eco Sathi Nepal are actively promoting recycling and sustainability. Through their initiatives, they aim to reduce waste and encourage environmentally responsible habits. However, their efforts alone are not enough. True change requires collective action—every citizen must understand the importance of sustainability, adopt eco-friendly practices, and help raise awareness to protect the environment for future generations.

By minimizing plastic use and promoting recycling, communities can move toward a cleaner and healthier environment. Moreover, a cleaner environment free from plastic waste greatly enhances overall quality of life. Upadhaya said that by minimizing the production of toxic plastics, we can slowly reduce the risk of the plastic. Recycling also plays a vital role in reducing environmental contaminants and fostering sustainable, healthy communities where people can live and thrive in harmony with nature. Nepal’s repeated failures to enforce its plastic bans reveal deep systemic weaknesses—from political will and industrial pressure to inadequate alternatives and public awareness. Strict enforcement, providing viable alternatives, and mobilizing citizens toward behavioral change. Without such collective effort, Kathmandu’s rivers, air, and soil may continue to bear the brunt of plastic pollution for generations to come.

As the cold winds of winter sweep across Nepal, a familiar haze begins to settle over the cities. The dry air of winter traps dust and smoke close to the ground, turning the sky gray and the air heavy. With ongoing construction and unfinished roads scattered across the country, the dust rises and lingers, worsening the situation. Winter, which should be a season of calm, becomes a season of smog and sickness. The situation is more intensified now as the rain stopped and the roads’ dust started to rise more.

According to the State of Global Air (SoGA) 2025 report, air pollution caused 41,300 deaths in Nepal in 2023. Even more alarming, 85 percent of these deaths were linked to noncommunicable diseases such as heart and lung disease, lung cancer, diabetes, and dementia. The report also revealed that air pollution has now become the leading risk factor for deaths in Nepal, surpassing tobacco and high blood pressure. Around the world, 7.9m deaths were attributed to air pollution in 2023, showing just how serious this issue has become.

In Nepal, pollution levels are closely tied to changes in weather. The colder and drier months always see the worst air quality across major cities. According to the Air Quality Index (AQI), Kathmandu now ranks 46th among the world’s most polluted cities, with a moderate rating, while Delhi, India, continues to top the list. This shows how winter brings not only cold winds but also a blanket of harmful air that affects everyone, especially children and the elderly.

The World Economic Forum’s Global Risks Report 2025 ranks pollution as the sixth and tenth most pressing global risk in the short term (two years) and long term (10 years).

To address this growing problem, the government has started to implement plans to reduce air pollution during the winter months. Efforts include stricter monitoring of construction sites to control dust, encouraging the use of electric vehicles, and testing emissions from older vehicles. Authorities have also banned the open burning of waste and are promoting tree plantation campaigns to help absorb pollutants. Public awareness programs are being run to educate people about the dangers of air pollution and the need to reduce activities that contribute to it, such as burning firecrackers and waste.

Prakash Lama, program coordinator at Clean Air Network Nepal (CANN), explained that the organization has been actively working to mitigate air pollution through various programs, campaigns, and awareness initiatives. He emphasized that air pollution poses a serious threat to human health and requires collective effort to address.

CANN has been conducting awareness programs in schools and at the community level to educate people about the dangers of air pollution and to encourage individuals to take responsibility in reducing it. The organization also spreads awareness through radio programs and by mobilizing mass movements to engage the public more effectively.

CANN also organizes health campaigns where the lungs of children and elderly people are checked to assess the impact of air pollution on vulnerable groups. In addition, the organization has been monitoring air quality in various locations across the country by installing air quality monitoring devices, with support from the government, in most of the provinces, residential areas, and industrial zones.

According to Lama, one of the main reasons for high air pollution in the Kathmandu Valley is its geographic structure. Because the valley is surrounded by hills, air circulation is restricted, trapping pollutants within the area. During winter, the air becomes dry and rainfall decreases, worsening the pollution levels. Lama added that forest fires, vehicular emissions, and industrial dust also significantly contribute to the problem.

He noted that around 35–40 percent of air pollution in the valley is caused by transboundary pollution (pollutants that come from outside the region). In the Tarai region, this figure rises to nearly 70 percent, showing that cross-border pollution plays a major role in deteriorating air quality.

Dan Bahadur Waiba, an inDrive rider, shared that riding becomes extremely difficult on dusty days, and the situation worsens during winter. At times, he said, it even becomes difficult to keep his eyes open while riding. During winter, Waiba added, it’s often challenging to tell the difference between fog and dust, as the air turns thick and visibility drops significantly.

At the policy level, Lama pointed out that although the government has introduced regulations setting timelines for vehicle use and prohibiting older vehicles, these rules are not being properly enforced. 

Lama emphasized the need for the government to prioritize the promotion of electric vehicles (EVs) and make their adoption a major national agenda. Reflecting on the past, he recalled the use of trolley buses in Kathmandu, which were environmentally friendly, and expressed concern that Nepal seems to have moved away from such sustainable solutions in favor of market competition in the automobile sector.

Meanwhile, Waiba is planning to switch to an electric scooter after learning more about air pollution and vehicle emissions at an event he attended. He shared that the experience made him realize the importance of individual action in addressing environmental issues. Waiba expressed his belief that real change is possible when people become aware, learn, and choose to act responsibly.

Locals in Bhaktapur expressed frustration over the ongoing and incomplete road construction in several areas, including Suryabinayak Road, Sanga Road, and parts of Kavre. Residents living along these roads said that the constant dust has made daily life extremely difficult. Many shared that it has become hard to even stay inside their homes, as they need to clean their rooms every single day to keep the dust away.

They added that the situation is likely to worsen during winter, when there is little rainfall and dust levels are expected to rise further. The locals have urged the concerned authorities to speed up the construction work and take necessary measures to control dust and pollution in the area.

It doesn’t only hamper the residents but also human health which can cause many diseases. Research finds that air pollution reduces life expectancy by 3.4 years for the average Nepali and causes approximately 26,000 premature deaths annually. In addition to health, air pollution impacts labor productivity, tourism, and the aviation sector. The economic cost of poor air quality is equivalent to more than 6 percent of Nepal’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) each year, according to the Air Quality Life Index (AQLI).

Recently, the Department of Environment collaborated with the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) and launched the country’s first National Air Quality Management Action Plan (NAQMAP).  It marked a major step in Nepal’s broader effort to reduce air pollution nationwide and to establish a comprehensive framework for managing and improving air quality.

However, experts say that much more needs to be done. Clean fuels, reliable public transport, and strict enforcement of environmental laws are essential to bring lasting change. Reducing air pollution is not only the government’s responsibility but also a duty shared by every citizen.

Tihar, the most awaited festival after Dashain for many, is in the corner. People wait for this festival for many reasons, like lights, colors, and probably money they receive as dakshina. I love them all. But the most important aspect that every Nepali person waits for is the day when we light the house with diyos (traditional oil lamps made with clay). Every year, thousands of diyos are bought by many to light up their house. In the pottery square of Bhaktapur, many potters are seen drying their clay works in the sun. The area is made in such a way where the sun rays don’t fade away till evening. Every shop has divided their area to dry their work in the same ground. Traditionally, people from the Prajapati caste are involved in the work of creating clay and earthenware products. But today, this job is not just limited to the Prajapatis.

Samir Dhonju got into this profession because he was interested in the artistic work that goes into making earthenware goods.  “There was a time when this work was associated with people a certain caste, but things have changed these days. I really enjoy working with clay and making various products,” he says.  Dhonju has been doing this for a year now and he wishes other youths like him to join the profession. “There is certainly a good scope in this line of work, but many young people just don’t want to get their hands dirty,” he adds. Dhonju enjoys the creativity involved in making clay products.  

Shiva Prasad Prajapati, who has continued his family generational profession, says his family shop has existed since the Malla period, making it one of the oldest in his neighborhood. 

“Almost 8 or 9 generations of my family have followed this craft,” he says. For this year’s Tihar festival, he has already made around 200,000 diyos. “I started working before the Dashain festival and I’ve already sent the diyos to the market, which is why there isn’t much rush in my shop,” he says. 
His diyos are delivered to places like Kathmandu, Kavre, and Barhabise.  

Shiva Prasad sells a dozen diyos for Rs 40, while 100 pieces can cost up to Rs 400 depending on demand. He says the clay used in making diyos are not readily available these days. 

“We used to collect the clay from forests around Doleshwor and Suryabinayak, but now it’s illegal. So we have to go through a proper tender process to procure clay these days, which makes it costlier,” he adds. 

Not far away from Shiva Prasad’s shop, Ranjana Prajapati is busy drying freshly made diyos. She started the shop some nine years ago and made a good earning, until people started using electric lights instead of traditional diyos to light up their homes during Tihar. 

“The demands for diyos have definitely gone down, but the demand has not entirely died out,” she says. “Diyo demand shoots up during the time of Tihar, because there are still many people who understand the cultural and traditional values of lighting diyos.”   

In the run-up to the Tihar festival, Ranjana has already made 10,000 diyos, which she says is far fewer than in the previous years. 

Ranjana fears hers will be the last generation to continue her family profession, as her children are not interested in pottery making.  

Budhi Ram Prajapati, who is in his seventies, didn’t make any diyos for this year’s Tihar. “Demands have gone down, and I can’t make diyos with the same speed and precision like in my heydays,” he says. 

There was a time when he could make up to 35,000 diyos all by himself. Today, only Budhi Ram and his wife run their clay workshop. Their children left the generational craft to pursue more lucrative enterprises. 

Budhi Ram notes the contradiction: while the number of households is rising, the demand for diyos is falling.    

For Aakash Karmacharya, however, traditional diyo lamps hold deep cultural significance.“I love the warm glow of diyos. I find them far better than those distracting LED lights,” he says. Karmacharya is one of those people who prefers traditional practice over convenience of modernity when observing a cultural festival like Tihar.  

For generations, potters in Bhaktapur and beyond have shaped these symbols of light with care and devotion, their hands preserving a legacy that goes far beyond decoration. Though challenges like rising costs and fading demand persist, the spirit behind each diyo remains strong.

“While electric lights may be easier and more convenient, the humble diyos hold a deeper meaning of culture, craft, and community, and it is our responsibility to preserve the tradition,” says Karmacharya. 

More than 14,000 inmates escaped from 28 prisons and juvenile detention centers across Nepal during the GenZ–led protests on Sept 8–9. The unprecedented prison break posed a grave security threat and prompted a nationwide manhunt to recapture the fugitives, many of whom were serving sentences for serious crimes such as rape and murder.

According to the Department of Prison Management, 8,851 escapees, including 341 juvenile detainees, have voluntarily surrendered since the incident. However, public concern remains high, as nearly 5,700 individuals are still at large.

On the day of the protests, several inmates were killed during escape attempts. Three prisoners were shot dead while trying to breach security perimeters in Ramechhap and Dhading, while five juvenile detainees died in a clash at the Naubasta Juvenile Correctional Home. Escapes were reported across the country, including Kathmandu, Lalitpur, Sunsari, Saptari, Mahottari, Rautahat, Sindhuli, Makawanpur, Rasuwa, Chitwan, Tanahun, Kaski, Parbat, Myagdi, Kapilvastu, Dang, Banke, Rukum West, Nawalparasi, Jumla, Bajhang, Kailali, Darchula, Baitadi, Dadeldhura, and Kanchanpur. Similarly, 963 juveniles escaped from correctional homes in Morang, Parsa, Bhaktapur, Makawanpur, Kaski, Rupandehi, Jayandu, Banke, and Doti.

The Ministry of Home Affairs has issued an ultimatum requiring all escapees to return by Oct 6. Those who fail to comply face additional legal charges, including escape, public endangerment, and violent conduct. “This mass escape must not be allowed to undermine the rule of law,” the ministry said in a statement.

A nationwide operation, coordinated by a special task force under the Ministry of Home Affairs, is underway to track down the remaining fugitives. The task force includes local authorities, Nepal Police, the Armed Police Force, and other security agencies. Each district has formed a dedicated team led by the Assistant Chief District Officer, with representatives from law enforcement and other relevant agencies, to locate, control, and re-arrest escapees as swiftly as possible.

“There are currently 30,646 prisoners serving sentences for various offenses in 75 prisons across 72 districts,” said Chomendra Neupane, director of the Department of Prison Management. “There are no prisons in Dhanusha, Bara, Bhaktapur, Nawalparasi East, and East Rukum.”

Neupane added that the number of returnees is gradually increasing, particularly after the Dashain festival, and that the department expects more inmates to surrender in the coming days. “If anyone has information about escaped prisoners or juveniles, they can contact the nearest police station or notify the department directly,” he said.

According to the department, some escapees have already reoffended, committing crimes such as theft and even murder. “We have found that many of those who escaped were not rehabilitated despite their time in prison,” Neupane said. “We are taking stricter measures to ensure public safety and are reinforcing law enforcement operations to make the process more effective.”

Regarding how the escapes will affect inmates’ sentences, Neupane said each case will be reviewed individually. “Some may have fled out of fear for their safety amid the chaos, while others deliberately took advantage of the situation,” he said. Prisoners who left due to credible safety concerns may be required to serve only their remaining term, whereas those who escaped without justification face extended prison sentences and new legal charges.

Authorities are currently preparing detailed reports on each case, and district police offices nationwide are conducting investigations to assess the specific circumstances of each escape. Outcomes will depend on several factors, including the severity of the original crime, behavior during incarceration, and conduct following the escape.

“In some cases, escapees may lose eligibility for parole or early release,” Neupane said. “Every situation is different, and we are working to ensure that justice is served fairly within the existing legal framework.”

The mass escape during the GenZ protests has placed significant strain on Nepal’s prison and law enforcement systems. With nearly 5,700 inmates still on the run, authorities are under mounting pressure to restore security and public trust. In the longer term, the crisis may prompt major reforms in Nepal’s prison management and security protocols, particularly concerning the treatment and supervision of juvenile detainees.

We’ve all seen it: people using ChatGPT, Gemini, and other AI tools to enhance their pictures, making them appear more authentic and attractive. But have we really considered the consequences? Most of the time, we don’t. These days, we see AI generated images and videos flooding our social media. Recently, I came across a clip by influencer Bhanu Pathak talking about the risk of uploading images on AI tools. He criticized the practice, calling it unethical, creepy, and unsafe. He warned that AI companies could keep personal data of users.

The situation became even more alarming when one instagram user shared her experience of using AI to enhance her photo. She discovered something disturbing: a photo where she was fully sleeve was transformed by AI into a sleeveless version. Not only that, the AI even replicated a mole on her right hand. Shockingly, she confirmed that she actually does have a mole in the same spot in real life.

Dipayan Ghosh, who writes about cyber security, explains AI can generate images of real people without consent, posing a serious privacy risk. 

“It allows anyone to alter photos and create false scenarios, making it appear as though someone did something they never actually did.”

To detect if an image is AI-generated or not, Ghosh suggests using reverse image search to trace the source of the picture. “Be mindful about what you share online, and avoid believing every photo you come across on social media,” he adds, while urging people to use AI tools responsibly and ethically.

Osmond Chia, a technology reporter at The Straits Times, has written a piece on OpenAI facing several lawsuits, including one from The New York Times, for using the paper’s content without permission to train AI models. In response, OpenAI argued that the data was publicly accessible and therefore permissible for research purposes.

While non-commercial ChatGPT users may not face direct copyright issues, Chia also noted that “freely uploading personal photos onto the platform still carries significant risks, particularly concerning privacy and misuse of data.”

The advent of AI has also impacted the creative world. Legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki has called the technology “an insult to life itself.” He argued that though faster, AI cannot come close to the artistry and soul found in the works of creative minds.

Shristi Prajapati, a tattoo and visual artist, understands where Miyazaki is coming from. She says AI art has taken over so much of the space that once belonged to human hands and hearts. 

“While artists like us spend hours mixing colors, shaping ideas, and pouring emotion into every detail, AI can replicate something similar in mere seconds. It’s painful to watch years of practice, love, and identity getting pushed aside.” 

For centuries, art has been a sacred expression—not just a product for sale. Even when artists didn’t make money, they created to preserve beauty, truth, culture, and emotion. Now, they are up against machines that don’t feel, don’t struggle, don’t dream. 

Still, despite the pressure and the heartbreak, artists like Prajapati continue. “I believe there are still people who recognize the difference, who still value the human touch,” she says.

Visual artist Rudrakshya Man Pradhan expresses similar sentiment. He says that AI should remain as a tool for inspiration, not a replacement for genuine expression. “It is essential to teach people the true value of art, so that society learns to see beyond surface-level images and appreciate the stories, emotions, and individuality only human hands can create,” he adds. 

But not everyone sees AI art as a threat. Sajira Shrestha, 26, says as long as you know what you are doing, AI can be a fun experimenting platform. “I don’t think it will hurt anyone as long as you are using AI for fun stuff. But at the same time, I don’t discount the harm it can do in the wrong hands.”

Pradhan says despite concerns surrounding AI technology, it is impossible to escape its presence and we must learn to live with it. 

“We know that AI always depends on prompts and borrowed data, while human art emerges from individuality and authenticity. So, I see that the future lies in balancing tradition with technology, and fostering awareness of art’s true value..”

The craze over AI images reflects both the excitement and the dangers of new technology. While AI can produce quick, attractive, and trendy results, it also raises serious questions about privacy, ethics, and the future of human creativity. For artists, it poses the painful risk of being overshadowed, yet it also offers opportunities if used wisely as a tool for inspiration. 

To safeguard creativity, society needs to value authentic art, educate younger generations about its deeper meaning, and use AI responsibly. In the end, the true challenge lies in striking a balance—embracing technology without losing sight of the human touch that makes art sacred. Prajapati aptly says: “Handmade art holds imperfections, emotions, and stories that no AI can ever truly replicate.”