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In Madhes, climate change is reshaping daily life—from dwindling water sources to declining rice yields. Locals say they feel increasingly alienated from the very elements that once sustained them. “Neither the rice feels like ours anymore, nor the water,” many say, as the region struggles with dried-up springs, parched fields, and water scarcity so severe that families must walk miles just to fetch a bucket.

The crisis has intensified to the point that the Madhes government has officially declared the region a drought-hit zone. With no monsoon rains this year, paddy planting has been severely disrupted—deepening the struggles of a region that relies almost entirely on rain-fed agriculture. While the provincial government plans to request relief funds from the federal government, there is still no long-term strategy in place to address the growing water crisis.

“I remember when it used to rain nonstop for two months,” recalls 65-year-old Sumitra Sada from Mahottari district. “Back then, every man, woman, and child would be busy in the fields planting rice. But now the season has come and gone without enough rain. We try to pump underground water through borewells, but whenever we do that, the hand pumps across the village run dry.”

The crisis is not just environmental—it’s cultural. Traditional Madhesi meals, once celebrated for fragrant aged rice, homemade ghee, and fresh backyard vegetables, are disappearing. “Fifteen years ago, we used to store large quantities of aged rice for weddings and rituals,” says 75-year-old Bedananda Jha from Janakpur. “Now the granaries are empty. We’re forced to buy polished, tasteless rice from across the border.”

According to government data, Madhes currently produces 2.77m metric tons of paddy. But to meet national demand and reduce imports, the region would need to expand rice farming by nearly 190,000 hectares. Similar production gaps exist for corn and wheat, posing a serious threat to food security.

The region’s once-abundant water sources—rivers, hand pumps, and wells—are drying up. In places like Birgunj, groundwater levels have dropped so drastically that families must now dig as deep as 400 feet to install a hand pump, at a cost of over Rs 150,000. “Water that once came from 100 feet now requires machines and generators to access,” says local resident Umesh Mandal.

To cope, Birgunj Metropolitan City has begun distributing water through tankers and temporary tanks. But experts warn these are merely short-term fixes. “The water crisis will only deepen unless we invest in groundwater recharge and proper conservation,” says hydrologist Pratap Singh Tatar. “People used to share hand pumps; now each home wants its own. There’s no regulation on irrigation borewells, and water is being over-extracted without recharge.”

Only three percent of Madhes residents use piped water from the national utility, while over 70 percent depend on hand pumps and tubewells. But with groundwater levels falling even in rural areas, the future looks bleak.

Experts also point to the degradation of the Chure hills—once considered the “lifeline” of Madhes. Forests that used to absorb rainwater and replenish underground aquifers are being destroyed due to logging, grazing, and encroachment. As the hills go bald, less water flows down to the plains.

“If we fail to protect Chure, Madhes could turn into a desert,” warns environmentalist Vijaya Singh Danuwar. “Chure is our mother. It traps monsoon clouds and releases water gradually. Without forests, there’s no mechanism to hold or distribute the rain.”

Farmers across Madhes are being pushed to the brink. With unreliable rainfall and limited irrigation, they now spend up to Rs 500 an hour to pump water using fire trucks just to transplant rice seedlings. By early July last year, 45 percent of paddy planting was completed. This year, it’s just 25 percent.

Although irrigation coverage increased slightly to 273,410 hectares in 2023/24, most of it depends on canals, ponds, and borewells—many of which are now failing due to water shortages.

Once known as Nepal’s rice bowl, Madhes now struggles to feed itself. While the total area under cultivation may have grown slightly, yields have declined. Agricultural economist Devendra Gauchan blames climate change: “We’re seeing more droughts, heatwaves, floods, and pest outbreaks—all of which reduce productivity. This region, which once exported rice, now imports it.”

Experts say the water crisis in Madhes is not just a natural disaster, but a human-made one—driven by poor planning, unchecked groundwater extraction, climate change, and government inaction.

“We can’t stop climate change,” says hydrologist Tatar, “but we can minimize its effects. What’s happening in Madhes is a warning. If we don’t act now, the cost tomorrow will be unbearable—for food, for water, and for life itself.”

Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) Chairperson Rajendra Lingden’s decision to remove the party’s disciplinary chief Navaraj Subedi and spokesperson Sagun Sunder Lawoti has intensified internal divisions.

Earlier, Subedi publicly declared that he had relinquished all party responsibilities, including his ordinary membership, to lead the pro-monarchy movement. Since then, both Subedi and Lawoti have been actively involved in royalist activities. They subsequently filed complaints with the Election Commission, challenging their removal. Subedi argued that Lingden’s decision violated the party’s statute.

Party spokesperson Mohan Shrestha stated that Lingden dismissed Subedi and appointed Roshan Karki as the new head of the disciplinary committee. Shrestha contended that since Subedi had already abandoned his ordinary membership, he could not hold any position without his reinstatement. However, senior leaders, including General Secretary Dhawal Shumsher Rana and Prakash Chandra Lohani, opposed the move.

“The party president’s decision to remove me breached the party’s statute because there was no Central Committee decision or prior consultation with me,” Subedi said.

Tensions have long simmered between senior leaders Rabindra Mishra and Dhawal Shumsher Rana. On March 28, they joined mass protests at the call of Durga Prasain, defying the party leadership. Both Mishra and Rana face court cases for allegedly inciting violence but have since walked free on bail.

The removal of Lawoti as spokesperson and Subedi as disciplinary chief further angered rival factions, who called the moves unconstitutional. Critics have accused Lingden of weak leadership in the royalist movement, pressuring him to launch a decisive campaign to restore the monarchy. However, Lingden maintained that the time was not yet ripe for such an effort.

Although RPP eventually announced a prolonged and decisive movement, it fizzled out quickly. For some time, a faction within the party has been privately urging former king Gyanendra Shah that the movement cannot succeed under Lingden’s leadership, contributing to strained relations between the two.

This is a challenging time for legacy media. As an editor, I frequently encounter concerns about the financial health of media houses. It is evident that society is becoming increasingly aware of the problems that the media industry is facing. Traditional media outlets are in the midst of an existential crisis, as both advertisers and audiences are migrating to digital platforms. 

Historically, the media has weathered technological shifts. The rise of radio in the 1920s did not significantly impact print, and radio itself managed to survive the television era despite visual’s strong appeal. However, the emergence of digital platforms is different; it is pushing all traditional media to the brink. This is why legacy media are now desperately working to develop a viable blueprint for survival. At this point, the primary goal for legacy media is to survive, if not thrive. To this end, for better or worse, they are working on two broad areas.

First, they are restructuring newsrooms to reduce staffing and administrative costs. While most layoffs have already been carried out, the new model, referred to as the integrated newsroom, is still taking shape. At the same time, media houses are exploring alternative revenue streams, as income from traditional sources, particularly advertisement, is fast declining. The idea of integrating radio, television and print newsrooms into a single space has gained momentum since the 2000s. In principle, it holds promise, especially if the goal is to foster collaboration among journalists across platforms, thereby enriching content. However, if the integration is pursued purely to cut costs, it risks undermining the very strengths of radio, television and print in the long run.

We must recognize that radio, television and print each have unique characteristics that have enabled them to survive for over a century. While they may report on similar issues, each platform has its own style of storytelling, audience engagement and distinct target audience. For instance, radio content often caters to both literate and illiterate audiences. This is something print and television may not fully accommodate. Delivering the same content across all platforms may offer short-term financial relief, but it will ultimately weaken the media’s overall impact. In Nepal, some experiments have already been done and they have been proved harmful rather than good outcomes in terms of securing the advertisement. 

Consider this: why did radio survive in the age of television? Because it offered something television could not. It had unique strengths that remained relevant despite the appeal of video. Over sixty years ago, Marshall McLuhan introduced the ‘medium is the message’ concept, suggesting that the characteristics of a communication medium influence how messages are perceived. Applying this idea today, we must be cautious about full-scale integration which may reduce costs marginally but compromise content quality and diversity in the long term.

International experiences show that poorly executed integration often leads to generic, homogenized content, sacrificing depth and specialization. In reality, if a media house is committed to delivering quality content, integrated newsrooms offer limited cost savings; perhaps only in administrative overheads or rent. In some cases, integration has even led to revenue losses, as clients are unwilling to pay separately for nearly identical content across platforms.

In the pursuit of financial sustainability, media houses are now experimenting with new revenue models. However, they are still unsure which model works best in Nepal.  Globally, dozens of new models are being tested, but most are still in the experimental stage. One thing is clear: While no alternative has matched the scale of advertising revenue, these new streams are providing a crucial lifeline for media houses, at least for survival. The Nepali context is even more complex. While internationally available revenue models can be useful for academic discussions, they may not be practical in Nepali society. A copy-paste approach to these models risks losing existing readers and audiences, especially if implemented without a clear understanding of Nepali society and its media consumption patterns.

Since the late 16th century, advertising has remained the dominant source of income for media; first for print, and later for television, radio and digital platforms. In addition, the print industry has long relied on subscription and circulation models, while television adopted the pay-TV model. The late 1940s saw the rise of advertorial content—paid content blending advertising and editorial, which, while still present, now contributes far less to overall revenue.

Advertisement continues to be the main revenue source for both legacy and digital media. However, the advertising landscape has changed significantly. Ads are now spread across both journalistic and non-journalistic platforms, ending the long-standing monopoly of legacy media. As a result, advertising alone can no longer sustain either traditional or digital outlets. This is not just a crisis of legacy media; it also affects digital media. That is why media organizations are desperately seeking to adopt new revenue models already in use internationally. Let’s consider the current revenue crisis and examine the strengths and weaknesses of some emerging models. One income stream that Nepali media houses have increasingly embraced is organizing events focused on political, economic and social issues.

Both legacy and digital outlets have generated substantial revenue from these events. Many advertisers now prefer sponsoring such events over placing traditional ads. While this approach is not new or particularly innovative, it has become competitive, with media outlets vying to host high-profile events to generate income. Another growing trend is video advertising, particularly through social media platforms. The volume of digital advertisements is gradually increasing. Some outlets are earning respectable sums from platforms like YouTube and Facebook though some legal hassles remain. Even small revenue from these platforms is offering much-needed support to struggling media houses.

Over the past few years, there has been a debate about the feasibility of a paywall subscription model in Nepal. While the online news portal Setopati has implemented this model, another popular portal Onlinekhabar remains hesitant due to fear that it may lose readership. We, at Annapurna Media Network, are also considering this model. However, we have concluded that further preparation and deliberation are necessary before moving forward.

Broadly speaking, digital platforms offer two types of subscription models: premium where users pay to access content, and freemium where basic content is free and only select content is behind a paywall. The paywall model cannot succeed without ensuring consistent quality in both text and video content. Readers will not be willing to pay for content that is superficial or poorly produced. Without significantly scaling up our current content, this model is likely to fail. At the same time, we must avoid the mistake of comparing ourselves with international media. The fact is that only a small segment of the Nepali population is willing to pay for content, even when it is of high quality.

A close study of quality content produced by media houses shows that very few people are actually reading it. One major reason is that the private sector, intellectuals, academia and society as a whole have become highly politicized and polarized. As a result, a wider section of the population tends to consume partisan and biased news that reinforces their perceptions and views rather than content that is accurate, balanced and impartial. While Nepal’s population is not small, the country’s economic conditions limit people’s ability and willingness to pay for news content. In short, the first major challenge is to consistently produce high-quality content tailored to different segments of the population.

As mentioned earlier, there is no lack of revenue models; the real challenge lies in identifying which models are suitable for our context. Potential models include live streaming, monetizing content through social media, generating income from memberships and newsletters, corporate social responsibility (CSR) support from businesses and funding from international organizations, among others. Unlike in the past, no single platform or model now dominates the media landscape. The only viable way forward, therefore, is to adopt a mix of revenue sources. Doing so, however, requires a broad strategic plan and upfront investment in these diverse areas. Since advertising alone cannot sustain media houses, it is time to re-imagine how they operate.

One bold step could be to transform media houses into non-profit entities, which would enable them to seek contributions from various sectors of society to support media sustainability. However, the current ownership structure may limit the ability to implement all possible revenue-generating models. Over the past three decades, Nepali media have rarely embraced innovation or entrepreneurship, primarily because they could rely on steady income from advertising. They also did little to engage with or respond to readers’ preferences and feedback. Today, innovation, entrepreneurship and the ability to adapt to changing expectations of readers are not just optional; they are essential for survival.

The latest havoc caused by the landslide and flood along the Nepal-China border in Rasuwa is a stark reminder yet again of just how vulnerable Nepal is to climate-induced disasters, particularly those that originate beyond our national boundaries. Nine deceased, 19 individuals still missing, infrastructure damaged, and critical trade routes disturbed, the nation is left scrambling to respond yet again—while the fundamentals continue to be poorly grasped and inadequately tackled.

What is particularly alarming about this incident is its suspected cause: a possible glacial lake outburst or other geophysical event in China's Tibetan area. While definitive evidence has not been established, the absence of significant precipitation in the area, experts say, strongly suggests transboundary factors like glacial lake bursts, avalanches or damming floods. This is a sobering reason for alarm about the present level of cross-border cooperation on early warning systems and disaster preparedness.

Nepal has treated transboundary climate hazards as environmental or diplomatic afterthoughts for too long. However, with their increasing frequency and intensity—fueled by climate change—it is time to treat them as national security risks worthy of diplomatic urgency and institutional overhaul.

Nepal and China share trade and infrastructure ties but with a remarkable lack of coordinated disaster risk management. The lack of an effective, real-time information-sharing system between the two countries significantly undermines Nepal's preparedness or response to such disasters. The Rasuwa flash flood would have been less deadly if Nepal had been alerted on time and offered data from the Chinese side.

The government is right to engage the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to resume damaged infrastructure and reopen border points. However, what Nepal needs now is an official and binding mechanism with China for sharing climate and disaster data—particularly pertaining to glacial lake behavior, river flow and weather patterns in Tibet.

The Ministries of Foreign Affairs, Home, and Environment must work together to institutionalize cross-border climate risk cooperation with China and other neighbors, perhaps through multilateral forums.

Nepal must also invest in its own satellite monitoring capability, early warning dissemination and localized disaster preparedness, especially along border regions. The needs for trained human resources, reliable equipment and community-based alert systems have never been more pressing.

We are confronted with a new era of transboundary climate threats. Confronting them requires not just salvation in a crisis, but political will, regional collaboration, and investment in infrastructure and science over the long haul. The cost of inaction, as we have seen yet again, is measured in lives lost and futures destroyed.

Let us stop thinking of disasters as arbitrary calamities and start thinking of them as predictable consequences of a warming planet—and plan accordingly.