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Not long ago, at a government office, a civil servant toggled between several windows on their outdated desktop. Each system had a different password, a different layout and none of them spoke to each other. Asked how often these platforms failed, the officials smiled, “Every day. Sometimes several times a day.” 

This is the quiet dysfunction that defines Nepal’s digital state. Not the lack of technology per se, but the absence of digital public infrastructure, widely known as DPI. We have apps, portals and now a National ID system and digital payment gateways. What we don’t yet have is an integrated, open and secure infrastructure that treats data and access as public goods.

DPI is not just another e-governance tool. It’s the foundational layer, like roads, electricity or water pipelines, on which digital services can be built, scaled and trusted. It includes digital ID systems, interoperable payment networks and data-sharing protocols that are inclusive by design and governed in public interest.

Nepal’s political classes and businesses tend to mistake flashy tech adoption for transformation. We are quick to chase global trends but shy away from the unglamorous work of developing the technical or institutional capabilities needed to absorb and scale emerging technologies to deliver quality citizen-centric public services. Yet without the basics like reliable connectivity and digital public infrastructure, our digitization risks replicating old hierarchies in new forms. A public school student in Rolpa cannot access the same benefits as a private school student in Patan if systems don’t recognize her existence, validate her documents or offer services in her language or device. 

Globally, we are seeing the rise of what some call “digital republics”, countries like Estonia, India and increasingly Brazil, where the digital public infrastructure has enabled everything, from instant welfare delivery to remote voting to digital entrepreneurship. These aren’t perfect systems but they recognize that state capacity in the digital era is no longer just about staffing ministries or issuing tenders. It’s about owning and governing the digital rails that society runs.

Nepal must make a deliberate choice. Do we want to be passive consumers of private platforms or co-creators of public digital ecosystems? Do we want to scatter millions on disconnected IT projects or invest in core digital infrastructure that can power innovation across education, health, finance and local government?

To do so, three shifts are necessary.

First, political vision. DPI must be seen not just as a technology project but as a nation-building effort that is rooted in rights, inclusion, and sovereignty.

Second, institutional coordination. ministries, regulators and provinces must converge on shared standards, open APIs and legal safeguards. Without this, the very systems meant to empower citizens could end up exposing them.

Third, civic stewardship. Citizens must be part of the design process. Local governments, civil society and tech communities can help ensure that DPI reflects the lived realities of Nepalis, not just the assumptions of software vendors.

We often find ourselves looking externally to other countries for guidance. But perhaps the real opportunity lies in looking inward. Nepal, despite its constraints, can lead, not by mimicking others, but by building systems that reflect our own needs and realities. For smaller, developing nations, the promise of digital isn’t in shiny apps or headline reforms. It's whether a citizen can renew a passport from their village without walking for days to the nearest passport center or paying a middleman. Whether a farmer or laborer can access land records and pay taxes without missing a day’s wage. Whether public and private services from banks to driving license offices can speak to each other through secure, interoperable systems built around the National ID. 

DPI goes beyond digitizing bureaucracy, to fundamentally redesigning the approach to service delivery. And that means centering privacy, transparency and accessibility from the start. Because the measure of good digital infrastructure isn’t how complex the technology is. It’s how simple it makes everyday life. After all, infrastructure is not just about cables, code or platforms. It is about trust, dignity and the promise of a more accessible and equal society.

The writer is a senior fellow at the Integrated Institute for Development Studies (IIDS) in Kathmandu 

The promise of inclusion has become a cruel irony for many in Nepal. While opportunities are carved out for certain groups, Bahun-Chhetris, despite their qualifications, are left with empty hands. Merit alone is worthless here. What matters is who you know and which power center you serve.

We invested our youth in education, sacrificing leisure, comfort, and opportunity – only to discover our degrees offer little value. What matters more than talent or qualifications is your proximity to power, your influence, or your ability to navigate the system. In that race, we are far behind. We focused on earning university degrees and working hard, believing that merit would be enough for success. But we never imagined that we would also need someone’s favor or backing. If we had known, perhaps we would have tried to curry favor with influential people along the way. We believed that with knowledge and competence, we could contribute meaningfully. But those things alone count for nothing. Only now do we understand why hundreds of thousands of young Nepalis leave for foreign countries each year. A few go by choice, but most leave because they feel they have no future here.

In today’s Nepal, there is no space for those who think ideally. Without using every possible means—money, influence, manipulation and favoritism—or without serving someone in power, it is hard to achieve anything. 

Today, one of my students said something that made me think deeply. “What kind of society are we living in?” “Is it one where merit matters, or one ruled by favoritism and nepotism?” “How many people actually get opportunities based purely on their abilities?” Perhaps my student was speaking out of frustration—or perhaps his words reflect a deeper truth shared by many young people.

I spent much of my life campaigning for gender equality and inclusion. I raised bold slogans, cited constitutional rights, international principles, and both national and global precedents. But somewhere along the way, I failed to see the hidden reality—I was unknowingly using those tools in ways that worked against my own community. While we pushed for inclusion for one group, we failed to notice how the other group’s participation was gradually being left behind.

I am not against equality or inclusion. Nor am I against the principles they represent. What I seek is the genuine implementation of these ideals in practice. But while voices are raised in support of inclusion for all, ours has somehow been lost in the process. 

Only now do I fully realize how simply because we belong to the so-called upper caste, we have become minorities in our own way—pushed so far behind that it is hard to even imagine rising again. I vividly remember how when I tried to move forward based on my academic credentials and years of experience, decision-makers told me I do not fall under any inclusive category. At the time, I didn’t question them. I didn’t realize that despite having qualifications and capability, I was denied simply because I wasn’t part of a preferred group or ideology. Only after going through repeated setbacks have I come to see the harsh truth.

I have no complaints against any individual or community. My issue is with those who, while publicly advocating for women's rights and shouting slogans of equality, privately cling to narrow and self-serving views. When such individuals attain power, they often hesitate to extend those rights to other deserving women. Who will ever hold them accountable for this double standard? Perhaps no one ever will.

There is a large segment of society that genuinely wants inclusion based on merit and commitment—not inequality disguised as equality. In the name of inclusion, the state has established countless commissions and structures, many of which are hard to sustain and harder still to justify. Those who frequently cry out that their class has always been oppressed, how many among them have truly benefited?  Except for a few who have received opportunities and benefits time and again, many do not even know about their real rights. 

Are we now to gain our rights only through labels and classifications? Must we continue to live as minorities in our own country—compelled to go abroad just to gain respect and a sense of identity? Is this the equality we envisioned? True equality does not mean uplifting one group at the cost of another. We are human beings too. We wish to live with equal dignity—not just in theory, but in reality.
Isn’t it time to change our mindset? Isn't it time to stop hiding behind caste, religion, tradition or ideology? Shouldn't we move forward to build a society where everyone—regardless of background—can live with dignity, freedom, and mutual respect, and build a civilized society? These are the questions weighing on my mind more and more these days.

Unpredictable weather marked by intense heat and sudden rainfall has increased the risk of spread of communicable diseases like dengue and malaria, health experts warn. This year’s rainfall is expected to be heavier than usual, which could intensify the spread of mosquito-borne illnesses, particularly dengue.

Dengue fever is a viral illness transmitted through the bite of an infected mosquito, specifically one carrying the dengue virus (DENV). The illness is most prevalent in tropical and subtropical regions, including parts of Asia, Central and South America, Africa, and the Pacific Islands. With the anticipated rise in rainfall, health authorities are urging the public to take preventive measures to avoid a potential outbreak.

This year the monsoon is expected to arrive in the third week of June, and the rainfall is estimated to be 5 percent above average. Eastern Nepal (Mechi, Koshi, Sagarmatha) is expected to receive 5–10 percent more rainfall, central Nepal (Janakpur, Bagmati, Narayani, Gandaki, and Lumbini) 4–6 percent more, and western and far-western regions are expected to receive average rainfall.

According to the World Health Organization, every year around 100–400m people get infected by Dengue from all around the world. In 2022, Nepal saw one of its worst dengue outbreaks in history: 52,557 confirmed cases and 60 deaths, according to official government statistics. While numbers dropped in 2024, the Epidemiology and Disease Control Division (EDCD) reported 34,385 cases and 13 deaths, affecting 76 districts across the country.

Since the first reported case of dengue in Nepal in 2004, the number of infections has been steadily increasing each year. To combat this growing health threat, early detection, diagnosis, management, and reporting have become essential. A regular surveillance and monitoring system has been implemented through an early warning and reporting mechanism.

Mosquito surveillance is also being strengthened through integrated vector management strategies. Integrated Vector Management (IVM) is a strategic approach to controlling vectors that transmit diseases like malaria, dengue, and Zika. It combines various control methods, including biological, chemical, environmental, and public health education, to optimize resource use and achieve sustainable vector control.

To support timely diagnosis, dengue rapid test kits have been made available free of charge at government health institutions. Furthermore, a comprehensive dengue prevention and control action plan has been approved and published by the EDCD on the occasion of World Neglected Tropical Diseases Day 2025.

Dr Sher Bahadur Pun, chief of the Clinical Research Unit at Sukraraj Tropical and Infectious Disease Hospital said: “Dengue might break out at any time during the monsoon season. One should take necessary precautions and the authorities concerned should have a good preparedness plan to stop the outbreak.”

To prevent dengue, it is important to take both personal and environmental precautions. Personal protection methods include using mosquito repellents, electronic mosquito-killing machines, mosquito nets and electric bats. Maintaining a clean and hygienic environment is equally important.

Dr Pun emphasized that while using items like above can help prevent mosquito bites, people should not rely solely on them. “These methods only deter mosquitoes temporarily and do not eliminate them,” he said, stressing the need for long-term preventive measures, such as maintaining cleanliness and preventing water stagnation in and around homes that serve as a breeding ground for mosquitoes. 

Province wise Dengue Cases (January-December 2024)

Source: Epidemiology and Disease control Division (EDCD)

The first edition of Sagarmatha Sambaad, Nepal’s initiative to draw global attention to the impact of climate change on the mountains and humanity, begins tomorrow. Themed Climate Change, Mountains and the Future of Humanity, one of the promotional materials for the summit features a nugget of wisdom in Sanskrit, in a smaller print: Vaade vaade jaayate tatwabodha. 

A rough translation of the line would be: Only through relentless deliberations can one get to the essence. It’s just like extracting butter by churning milk, though the process of getting to the essence can be a very long and excruciating, especially in this day and age of global warming, climate change and climate deniers. 

Despite a very small carbon footprint, Nepal has been bearing disproportionate effects of climate change and these effects are most severe on the Himalayas, one of the very few priceless sources of freshwater and a lifeline for billions of people living downstream.  

Notable absences from the neighborhood and beyond aside, diplomats, politicians, climate scientists and experts from around the world are gathering on the lap (literally) of the Sagarmatha, the world’s highest mountain, for the summit. Apart from possible shortcomings on the part of the host, these absences perhaps point out at an alarming level of indifference on the part of the political top brass of respective countries toward a smorgasbord of issues that have a most profound impact on the future of humanity. They seem to forget that while humanity can now explore the vastness of Space in fancy vessels, it cannot bring water from there to quench the thirst of parched living beings.  

Indeed, the summit has become all the more important as it is taking place at the time of a major withdrawal from the Paris Agreement and a fresh round of hostilities between two nuclear-powered countries in the immediate neighborhood and major wars in other parts of the world, activities that take a massive on the environment.
It comes barely a month after the host country nearly choked as air pollution worsened due to drought and raging wildfires, resulting mainly from climate change and global warming.     

As for preparations vis-a-vis the summit, some critics as well as skeptics argue that the government should have adopted a bottom-up approach, by initiating discussions at local, provincial and central levels, identifying issues and presenting them at the forum. Such a grounded approach, they say, would have prevented the conclave from becoming a purely academic exercise and a mere talk shop, taking it further away from the lived experiences of local communities. They are perhaps right, also in their stance that much more could have been done to rally the whole nation behind this common cause.
Criticism and a bit of skepticism aside, the dialogue is a good beginning and here’s hoping that those at the helm of affairs around the world get to the essence soon enough—and act—before this Living Planet ceases to be as a result of our climate-unfriendly ways of life.