The price of not having a place to play
Sounds of children playing–the giggles, shouts, and high-pitched cheers–should bring a smile to anyone’s face. But Kathmandu residents say it often puts them on edge. Without open spaces, children have been forced to play on the streets and, even if these are inner alleys and roads, they aren’t safe spaces. There’s always an accident or two, with children frequently getting injured. Laxmi Tamang, a 30 year old mother of two from Ratopul, Kathmandu, says her sons play in the road in front of their two room apartment. They are either getting scolded by the neighbors for creating a ruckus—breaking of flowerpots, and hitting parked cars with the basketball—or nursing injuries after being hit by cyclists. Since no building in the area has a big enough compound, the children of the community are forced to play out on the streets, says Tamang. This doesn’t sit well with the parents but they also don’t want their children to sit at home, glued to their phones. Sushila Dahal, a 42-year-old mother living in Thimi, Bhaktapur, says she is constantly worried about her 12-year-old son. Once, he nearly got hit by a truck while riding his bicycle on the street. There are no open spaces in her area which is why her son, along with other children of the locality, play on the road. “We can’t keep them confined in the house, but there is no safe space for them to play outside as well,” she says. Many parents ApEx talked to share the same concern. Sabitra Prasai, a 31-year-old mother of two living in Boudha, Kathmandu, says around seven children, along with her 11-year-old son, regularly play on the road. It’s a three-way junction, and there are many two-wheelers passing by every five minutes. It’s dangerous, with vehicles regularly coming to screeching halts as a ball rolls in front of them or to avoid hitting a child. Prasai is always cautioning her son, telling him to be careful and not go out in the middle of the road. But she knows it’s not enough. Unfortunately, there is little else she can do. Although their locality has a park meant for children, Prasai says it’s a bit far. Her son can’t walk over alone, someone will need to chaperone him. “I would rather have him play on the road, where I can check on him, than let him visit the park,” she says. But according to the Nepal Police, children playing on the road is a huge risk factor for accidents and injuries. Poshraj Pokharel, spokesperson of the Nepal Police, says it’s one of the reasons behind the increasing number of road accidents in the past year. In the past six months, 235 children below the age of 16 have lost their lives in road accidents, while 1,386 have been injured. The data, Pokharel adds, is a gross underrepresentation of the actual number of cases. When children get hurt while playing on the street (suppose they are hit by bikes or cars), provided there is no serious injury, the issue is mostly resolved on the spot. Though children aren’t supposed to be playing on the road, the driver of the vehicle is always the one who is in the wrong in case of an accident. Suman Meher Shrestha, senior urban planner, says uncontrolled urbanization has left very little open spaces in Kathmandu. It has made the city congested and chaotic, and the situation will only get worse as the population density increases. Children have no space to play inside their homes and communities and thus they spill out onto the roads. “We could learn a thing or two from places like Thimi, Bungamati, and Sankhu where people seem to have realized the importance of community spaces. They are renovating open areas like courtyards and temples,” says Shrestha, adding open spaces are necessary not just in case of natural disasters like earthquakes but to prevent regular accidents as well. Sudhir Aryal, a 46-year-old father of two from Sinamangal, Kathmandu, says urbanization has indeed made it difficult for homeowners to enjoy open spaces in their areas. There isn’t a plot of land where construction work isn’t going on. Aryal feels it’s unfair to ask children not to play outside when they don’t have space inside their homes. One of the major reasons behind the lack of public spaces, according to Shaurab Dhakal, spokesperson at Kathmandu Valley Development Authority (KVDA), is illegal plotting of lands which is quite rampant in the valley. According to Dhakal, anyone who wants to plot a land requires a permit from KVDA. Their policy requires the party to ensure five percent of the total land area is allocated for open space but that rarely, if ever, happens. Majority of plotted lands, Dhakal says, haven’t followed this rule, thus reducing the number of empty spaces in many localities. “We have prepared a list of lands that have gone through illegal plotting, and will be taking the necessary actions soon,” he adds. The KVDA has been working on constructing parks inside the valley since 2012. Dhakal says they have opened around 70-80 parks in the past decade, and that they are still working on it. The KVDA was also working on a 20-year plan to ease congestion in the valley and make it more habitable, which unfortunately didn’t get approved by the Physical Development Committee. Now, KVDA is working on a much more comprehensive ‘Brihattar Master Plan’, whose draft is supposed to be ready by Feb 2024. “The strategy for the 20-year plan will just be a small part of this master plan,” says Dhakal. The Nepal Police is also doing its bid. It has been involved with different governmental authorities that are responsible for building and maintaining communal parks in Kathmandu valley. They have also been organizing awareness campaigns regarding road safety so that children don’t play on the streets. But without an alternative, the children have nowhere to go and come out on the streets to play, especially after school hours which is also when traffic is at its heaviest, with offices closing for the day. If there were more open spaces in the valley, it would foster a better sense of community as well as give children a safe space to play, says urban planner Shrestha. But Kathmandu in particular, he adds, has many constraints and it’s going to take different approaches from various agencies to work around them all. Arjun Koirala, urban planner and former general secretary of Regional and Urban Planners Society of Nepal, says there are lands that can be developed into parks and playgrounds but many of these haven’t been identified yet for various bureaucratic reasons. There are plots of lands that are illegally occupied as well as public-private partnerships through which plots of land that should have been public spaces have been leased out. “Kathmandu valley needs a better land management system. That’s the only way to identify and create more open spaces,” he says.
A digital skills action plan for Nepal
Estimates for Nepal’s software and IT services industry’s annual revenues range from $200 million to $1 billion. The sector is ideal for exports–IT services can be easily sold across borders, capital expenditure needs are low, and demand is globally ubiquitous and growing. A vital element for growth and higher export revenues in the sector is a robust talent pool and regular upskilling of that pool. Technology changes rapidly, therefore, skilling and reskilling is a constant. In fact, conversations with industry players indicate that the skills shortage in Nepal’s local ecosystem is such that even young employees can command a 100-200 percent hike when they switch jobs. This is good for the employee in the short-term but is not healthy for the industry. While Nepali companies can tap into regional and global talent pools to solve immediate human capital constraints–hiring from South Asia, the African continent, Latin America, or Eastern Europe–more should be done to improve the local talent pool for sustainable development. The government, in partnership with the private sector and development partners, can develop and implement a digital skills action plan. Important pillars of this action plan are: rolling out accredited digital training programs, building closer industry partnerships, and improving access to training and opportunities. This will have a profound impact on creating and providing jobs for more Nepalis. Vocational programs Nepal has a population with an average age under 25 years and they can rapidly upskill to integrate into the global digital value chain. About 50 lakhs students took the SEE (10th grade) examinations in 2022. Even if only 20 percent develop industry-relevant digital skills, they can boost our software and IT industry, currently estimated to employ less than 100,000 people. A vocational component at the secondary level—a technical SEE or a technical +2 level course—can expand the talent pipeline and sensitize students to a global industry at an earlier age. The software and IT industry does need a broad range of basic and advanced digital skills. Service exporters in countries like Bangladesh, the Philippines and Indonesia utilize a much broader array of digital skill sets in job roles such as sales associates, account managers, graphic designers, marketing specialists, customer service representatives, financial advisors, and social media managers. Vocational programs ranging from a couple of weeks to a few months could fill a vital gap to supply the needed workforce in Nepal. Nepal needs more software engineers and project managers, but not everyone needs and wants a 4-year college degree to work in the software and IT services industry. Intensive 6-month vocational courses that teach students specific tools, such as JavaScript or SQL, can provide a higher return on investment for the students as well as employers. Industry partnerships Close collaboration between the public and private sectors, and academia is vital for a digital skills action plan to work. This is because of the fast-changing nature of the industry as it relates to skills and demand. Nepal’s IT companies are already building such partnerships: Fusemachines has partnered with Kathmandu University to promote Artificial Intelligence in curricula; Deerhold Ltd sources its employees extensively from its relationship with Deerwalk Institute of Technology; and Leapfrog Technology has an internal learning academy and strong emphasis on internships and apprenticeships. Many other local companies are also building such partnerships. Such lateral partnerships are needed with government bodies as well. Private companies have recently come together to establish a software association (Nepal Association of Software & IT Services Companies—NASIT) to advocate appropriate policy. NASIT identifies talent development as a key pillar of work and could serve as a key stakeholder in this conversation, along with other organizations. Government-academia-civil society roundtables can inform and support implementation of a digital skills action plan. Such roundtables would provide policymakers and academia with important insights into the nature and future of the digital industry. Local industry players can inform academic and public sector institutions on what demand exists—in terms of quality and quality—in verticals for IT services where Nepal can compete globally. More industry meeting platforms are needed. Industry interaction and collaboration events such as hackathons, meetups, or other events that support and promote learning and upskilling create much-needed public benefit and social good. Private companies, wanting to do more of such industry events, need more support to maintain platforms to regularize meetups and learning events. Public support for platforms will be vital in encouraging industry linkages, especially with government schools and universities in cities outside of Kathmandu. Better Access A digital skills action plan should prioritize equity to ensure that the digital opportunity in Nepal is inclusive. Interventions of a digital skills action plan, therefore, must ensure that people have access to content, facilities, and services for career development. There is a lot of content and learning material freely available on the internet, and there is no need to reinvent the wheel. To enable more people across Nepal to learn and pick up digital skills, it is important to ensure that such materials are accessible to as many people as possible and as cheaply as possible. Hardware solutions means that Nepalis, especially those that are poorer and outside of core cities, need access to cheap mobile devices and internet services. More schools, TVET training institutes, and colleges also need to be linked with reliable broadband connections. The hardware agenda is important because of low device penetration outside of cities. Various government bodies have already helped build computer labs in government schools, yet the efficacy of these labs and hardware-based programs is unclear. Such efforts need to be strengthened, accompanied by strong frameworks to assess efficacy. Software solutions include access to high-quality and accessible training programs—TVET programs, coding bootcamps, or other digital skills bootcamps—and mentorship networks. There is a lot of content and learning materials freely available on the internet already and an agile solution would enable access to this online content. Basic English language courses, for example, can be very effective because much of the digital world operates in English. As a starting point, support may be extended to establish computer clubs across schools and colleges in the country. Each school or college with a computer club can then come together under a national-level mentorship network. These clubs and mentorship networks can, in turn, help improve the use of technologies in the classroom itself. Ultimately, mentorship networks should allow students to build and visualize their careers and career roadmaps. A Nepali student’s educational and professional journey is fragmented. Such fragmentation is likely to continue as newer technologies disrupt traditional industries and the ways people work. Career guidance roadmaps, tools, and counseling support may, therefore, be as important as teaching hard skills. Conclusion Nepal will benefit from a digital skill agenda that will fuel an export-based software and IT services industry. This will produce strong and deep spillover impacts on local digital transformation as well. Key policy interventions for a digital skills plan include building a vocational education program starting from the SEE level up, fostering industry collaborations to make policymaking more responsive, and improving access to training programs and job opportunities. The government, in partnership with the private sector and development partners, needs to develop and implement a digital skills action plan. The author is a Senior Fellow with the Nepal Economic Forum and leads the Digital Chautari, a platform to facilitate conversations on creating a Digital Nepal.
Provinces spending in the first half of current FY disappointing
Provincial governments’ budget spending has remained poorer than that of the federal government, according to the mid-term budget review report. The overall expenditure of the provincial government stood at 16.21 percent against the federal government's expenditure of 32 percent during the first six months of the current fiscal year. According to the review report for the fiscal year 2022/23, provincial governments spent Rs 49.53 billion against the total allocation of Rs 305.5 billion. Capital expenditure of the provinces has remained poorer than recurrent expenditure, a common situation resembling the federal government. As per the report, the average capital expenditure of seven provincial governments stood at 12.45 percent during the first half of the current fiscal year. Among the provinces, Province 1 tops the chart when it comes to spending. The overall expenditure and capital expenditure of the Province 1 government stood at 24.88 percent and 19.27 percent respectively. Madhes province has the lowest overall expenditure of 10.9 percent and Karnali province is the poorest in terms of spending capital budget at just 9 percent. The federal government has admitted that all three layers lack spending capacity. “On one hand, the budget transferred to the provinces and local levels as part of the fiscal transfer remains stuck in the banks,” states the mid-term review of the budget. “On the other hand, the federal government has been forced to mobilize internal loans to cover the deficit of the budget.” But officials in the province say that it was natural for provinces to struggle to spend resources because they don’t have enough human resources. “During the employment adjustment process, most of the government employees stayed at the center. Even after five years since the provinces were set up, they are still facing a shortage of human resources,” said an official of the Bagmati province. “Around 2600 vacancies have been created for our province but there are only around 1400 employees working.” In recent years, the federal government has been sending many small projects to the provinces and the local government for their implementation. “While projects to be implemented are increasing, human resource requirements have not been addressed. Hence, it is natural that the allocated budget is not spent,” said the official of Bagmati province. With provincial and local governments relying heavily on fiscal transfer from the central government, the report emphasized that they should be able to mobilize more resources from the areas under their jurisdictions. In the fiscal year 2020/21, the provincial government collected just Rs 15.14 billion from their internal resources, which is just 17.69 percent of the total revenue collected by provincial governments including the amount received through revenue sharing. The report has also called for improving spending capacity and cash and fund management capacity. State of Provincial Governments' Expenditure (First Six Months)
Province | Total Expenditure | Capital Expenditure |
Province 1 | 24.88% | 19.27% |
Madhesh Province | 10.90% | 10.24% |
Bagmati Province | 15.78% | 10.46% |
Gandaki Province | 16.33% | 13.82% |
Lumbini Province | 18.44% | 14.75% |
Karnali Province | 13.04% | 9.08% |
Sudur Paschim Province | 14.28% | 10.91% |
Sky Burial—a unique death ritual
The evening in the dining room of the Mystique Hotel, Lo Manthang, buzzed wild—the noise so loud that voices needed raising. Packed almost to the gunwales by trekkers, cyclists, and motor-bikers, the crowd included us too—four cyclists, Khashing, our team leader, Shayeet, Diwas, and this scribe. The heated room wore a festive ambience; everyone appeared in a back-slapping mood, and so we were—the vibe in the room was almost palpable. It was our last day in Lo Manthang, a 13-day cycling tour we did in 2018. We were talking with an Australian cyclist group when my eyes clapped on Wangchhen Lowa, better known as Ram Gurung by all in Lo Manthang, sitting before the iron stove sipping Shyu Cha (Tibetan tea made from yak butter, salt, and tea). I brightened up and excused myself from my friends and the Aussies to join him for a chat. With 20 years at ACAP (Annapurna Conservation Area Project), Wangchhen aka Ram, also co-owner of the hotel, seemed to know what's what about Mustang and helped me with a wealth of information. Following an exchange of customary pleasantries and more insight into the walled city of Upper Mustang, its inhabitants, rich culture, religion, and history, the topic, upon my curiosity, diverted to the ancient death ritual called the sky burial, still practiced in Upper Mustang. With over two decades of experience in conservation, biodiversity, and flora and fauna of the Trans-Himalayan region, Lo Manthang, it was a privilege conversing with him. Before touching upon the sky-burial issue, he briefed me on the vultures of Upper Mustang, which play a crucial role in the consummation of sky burials. They included especially the Himalayan griffons (Gyps himalayensis) and lammergeiers (Gypaetus barbatus), the bearded vultures. "In recent years, the number of Himalayan vultures, especially griffons and lammergeiers, the bearded vultures in the Upper Mustang region, has declined disastrously," said Wangchhen. The Himalayan griffons survive on carcasses and carrion. They nest in high cliff edges and even deserted sky caves in Mustang—often sighted at Chhuksang, Yara, Ghemi, and other wind-ravaged arid cliffs. Native to Mustang and other Trans-Himalayan regions like Dolpo, Humla, Jumla, and Manang, these highland carnivores are large birds and weigh from eight to 12 kg with a wingspan of 2.5m to 3m. The Himalayan lammergeiers, a close cousin to griffons, too, scavenge like the griffons and live on high crags, but weirdly their diet comprises 90 percent bones (the marrow being their favorite). Almost as large as the griffons, if not bigger, they gobble up the shredded bones after the griffons pick them clean. To honor the dead, funeral ceremonies and death rituals in Nepal vary from one culture to the other. Typically, the deceased body is largely either cremated or buried. In Tibet, singular to their culture, a death ritual commonly performed is a sky burial. "Going by the legend, the concept of sky burial in Mustang has its roots in Tibetan culture, preserved in Upper Mustang for eons. Widely exercised to date in Tibet, countries like Bhutan and Mongolia, too, follow the ritual," said Wangchhen. Some three decades ago, the sky burial ritual ubiquitous in Mustang gradually declined following trappings of haphazard modernization, making inroads into the once pristine area. "This funeral practice, widely performed in Tiri village in Kagbeni, suddenly ceased; it has been over 10 years since any sky burial took place there, but the ritual continues in a village called Dhamkar in Upper Mustang among the ethnic minorities called the Lowas (Gurungs, Bistas and Biswokarmas)," said Wangchhen. He sounded very convincing, as he has Lowa roots. When someone from this community dies, a high Lama (priest) scrutinizes the deceased's zodiac sign, astrologically juxtaposing it against five Tibetan Buddhist elements—the earth, water, fire, air, and the space—and determines the method for the departed's funeral. If the high Lamas decide to go for a sky burial, the funeral ceremony begins, accompanied by the beat of drums, cymbals, and dung chen (a Tibetan long-pipe horn). After the rites, the body is handed over to the monks assigned to behead the body, dismember the corpse, and hack it to pieces. The severed head gets buried, and the chopped-up pieces are moved to an elevated site to feed the vultures. Curiously, the commotion lures vultures from great distances to assemble at the site and swarm at the chopped body tissues, jostling each other to grab their choicest piece. By performing this rite, the sacred vultures, an emanation of wisdom deities, transport the deceased's soul to heaven—so believe the local folks. Strange as it may sound, the vultures do not feed on the meat if the deceased were a sinner. The sky burial rite is nothing less than gruesome but a stark reality founded on Tibetan spiritual values. "Based on Buddhist tenets and values, the philosophy behind the sky burial ritual is insightful and profoundly spiritual. When you die, your spirit leaves your body, leaving behind nothing but a mass of flesh and bones. If your worthless body can serve as a source of sustenance to another living being, it's good karma to a noble cause," said Wangchhen Lowa. A dull boom of a gong, punctuated by the sharp clang of cymbals and the haunting wail of a long pipe horn, sounded from a nearby monastery as Wangchhen Lowa rounded up on the eerie account of Lo Manthang's sky burial. [email protected]