Submit your Article

Locals of Khokana, a small ancient village on the southern outskirts of Kathmandu Valley, are protesting the government’s plans to build the Kathmandu-Nijgadh expressway through the village. They say the massive construction project will destroy their rich Newari heritage. Various Janajati groups and organizations are supporting their cause, as they feel it is a violation of Janajati people’s land rights.

But even with this support, the government has chosen to ignore them. According to some, this indicates a weakening of the Janajati movement in Nepal. (As per the 2011 national census, Janajatis comprise 35.4 percent of the total population of 26.4 million.) The various Janajati groups that appeared stronger than even some of the big political parties six or seven years ago are now struggling for survival. Their involvement in lobbying and creating awareness on Janajati issues has also waned considerably.

Golden era

Janajati and adivasi agendas started coming to the fore of national politics in an organized way after the 1990 political change. Before that, the Janajati political agendas like the right to self-determination, secularism, and federalism were largely ignored. It was only after the 1990 constitution guaranteed fundamental rights of all citizens that Janajati activists started organizing themselves. After that, the Maoist movement played a key role in establishing Janajati issues. The Maoist party had federated the country into 14 states and named them after various ethnicities, which in turn earned the party the support of various Janajati groups. The second Jana Andolan in 2006 was another turning point in the growth of the Janajati movement. It was then that political parties brought Janajatis on board by supporting their agenda of regional autonomy and right to self-determination.

In the first Constituent Assembly, there was a sizable presence of Janajati lawmakers from across the political spectrum. The Maoist party, which emerged the largest in 2008 CA elections, backed the demands of the Janajati constituency. Altogether, 198 lawmakers formed a cross-party caucus to jointly fight for Janajati rights. Due to the pro-Janajati position of the Maoist party and cross-party consensus, the first CA took several monumental decisions. For instance, its State Restructuring and Distribution of State Power Committee submitted a report proposing 14 provincial units based on ethnic/community identity.

Hence, 2005-2012 is considered the golden period of the Janajati movement. The Janajati groups had put up a strong fight to save the first CA, to no avail, and the assembly was dissolved in May 2012 without promulgating a constitution. Nepali Congress and CPN-UML, which opposed identity-based federal structures, emerged as the dominant parties in the second Constituent Assembly. The second CA refused to accept the reports of its first avatar. “The Janajati movement started on a downward spiral after the second Constituent Assembly came into being in 2014, from which the movement has yet to recover,” says Om Gurung, an academic and a Janajati campaigner. Even the Maoist party, which had strongly advocated ethnicity-based federalism, has now abandoned that agenda.

2015 constitution

Arguing that identity-based federalism would lead to conflict, NC and UML opted for crafting provinces based on their financial viability rather than their ethnic make-up. Janajati leaders thus believe their key demands remain unfulfilled. For instance, some Janajati lawmakers from Province 3 had proposed that their province be named Newa-Tamsaling, in lieu of the two ethnic communities in the region, but the majority ruling party lawmakers named it Bagmati, after a river. 

Gurung says one of the core Janajati demands on the establishment of a secular state was achieved in the new constitution, “and yet the caveat that secularism is tantamount to protecting the Sanatan Hindu religion hollowed it out.” On language, all languages spoken in the country were accepted as national languages, even as the official language remained Nepali.

Some indigenous rights are protected under the fundamental rights of the new constitution. Article 42 guarantees social justice rights for Janajatis and ensures their participation in state bodies based on their population estimates. Similarly, Article 18 ensures right to equality, as it states that the state shall not discriminate citizens on grounds of origin, religion, race, caste, tribe, sex, economic condition, language, region, ideology, or similar grounds. Janajati leaders, however, say laws are yet to be formulated to implement these fundamental constitutional rights.

Likewise, according to Article 261, there shall be an Indigenous Nationalities Commission. The government has already formed Madhesi, Tharu and Muslim commissions but not the indigenous commission. “This shows the ruling Nepal Communist Party and the government it leads are not in favor of the walfare of Janajatis,” says Dev Kumar Sunuwar, Editor of indigenousvoice.com, an online portal dedicated to Janajati issues.

Ruling party and the movement

With the formation of the Nepal Communist Party (NCP)-led government two and a half years ago, there has been a systematic effort to suppress the movement, say Janajati leaders. According to them, the ongoing protest in Khokana is a case in point. NEFIN and other Janajati groups accuse the government of trying to finish off the culture and identity of the local community in Khokana. They complain of similar efforts to keep Janajati communities away from natural resources and displace them from their traditional places in the name of development.

“Neither have their constitutional rights been granted nor are the Janajatis in a position to amend the constitution,” rues Gurung. The ruling NCP was formed after the 2018 unification of CPN-UML and CPN (Maoist Center). The UML leadership has always been against all kinds of identity movements. The Maoist party was more sympathetic to their cause—and many leaders in the ruling party from the Maoist background still are.

Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, however, thinks the 2015 constitution has already addressed most demands of Janajatis. With a strong NCP-controlled government at the center, as well as in six of the seven provinces, Janajati agendas have weakened. It does not help that leaders form the community who are in positions of power have abandoned their traditional agenda. For instance, of the seven chief ministers, two—Province 1 Chief Minister Sher Dhan Rai and Gandaki province Chief Minister Prithvi Subba Gurung—are from the Janajati community. So is the country's vice-president, Nanda Bahadur Pun. Yet seldom do they raise the agendas identified with the Janajati movement. 

Photo Source: Indigenous Voice

Likewise, there are several Janajati ministers in the federal and provincial cabinets. Repeating after Oli, they say there is no need for another Janajati movement as the constitution has already secured most of their rights.

Government and foreign support

In recent years, the government has reduced the budget for the National Foundation for Development of Indigenous Nationalities (NFDIN), the autonomous organization for the welfare of indigenous nationalities that was established following the restoration of democracy in 1990. Its current vice-chair Gokul Gharti says some budget cuts are understandable as more resources are going to provincial and local governments. However, he says the cuts have been so deep that the organization is now struggling to function effectively.

Similarly, the international community has stopped supporting awareness and livelihood projects of the Nepal Federation of Indigenous Nationalities (NEFIN). Just like NFDIN, NEFIN was established in 1991 as an autonomous group and the only representative umbrella organization of 59 indigenous nationalities or peoples of Nepal. During the second Jana Andolan, the United Kingdom’s Department of International Development (DFID) had supported the NEFIN. “These days, the leadership of NEFIN is not active in approaching donor agencies, nor do donor agencies seem interested. The government has also been calling on donor agencies to stop funding NEFIN projects, often by giving them wrong information on Janajatis,” says Gurung.

Dev Kumar Sunuwar agrees that the international support for Janajatis has dried up due to “close monitoring of international assistance that comes to Janajati organizations”.

Role of NEFIN

NEFIN currently has under its umbrella 56 distinct indigenous member organizations across Nepal. During the second Jana Anadolan, NEFIN had played a key role in rallying the Janajati constituency in the movement against the monarchy. At the same time, espying the power of Janajati leaders to earn them vital votes, political parties started courting them. As a result, NEFIN was thoroughly politicized. Janajati leaders close to ruling NCP are no longer interested in taking up any movement. “This is why NEFIN has become incapable of launching a decisive movement by taking all sections on board,” says Gurung.

Furthermore, there is competition among top political leaders to induct the Janajati leaders close to them into the federation. Vice-chair Magar dismisses the charge that his organization has become dysfunctional, arguing that it is still busy. “Hitting the street is only one form of agitation. We are preparing for another movement, but in a different way. We are educating our constituency and are in constant touch with members of other marginalized groups to develop a common front,” says Magar. He explains that the organization is now working on forming a clear vision and actively courting the international community. But says journalist Sunuwar, absence of strong leadership further weakens      the NEFIN.

With Madhes-based parties

Madhes-based parties and Janajati groups have been trying to launch a joint movement for constitution amendment. The newly formed Janata Samajbadi Party is holding talks with various Janajati groups for the same.

NEFIN’s Magar states, “We should not reject the constitution but continue our struggle to secure the rights of Madhesis and Janajatis. For that we need to review the past movement and prepare for the next one.”      

In the past, Madhesi and Janajati forces were on the same page on multiple issues. But after the promulgation of the constitution, journalist Sunuwar observes, the government has taken a ‘divide and rule’ approach. “With a purpose of dividing indigenous communities, the government formed separate commissions for Thaus, Madhesis, and Dalits,” says Sunuwar.

However, according to Keshav Jha, a Janata Samajbadi leader, discussions to create a Madhesi-Janajati alliance are still underfoot. But Janajati experts are not hopeful. There are top Madhesi leaders in parliament to take up Madhesi issues, but there are no such Janajati leaders to do the same for      Janajati issues. Most Janajati leaders espousing the community’s traditional agendas lost the 2017 elections.

But senior lawyer Shankar Limbu, a long-time advocate of Janajati rights, has a different take on the Janajati movement. He says the movement is not dying, only changing its shape. The real Janajati movement has only just begun, he argues, and it is entirely different from the previous center-based street protests. “The Janajati movement has reached the community level, as in Khokana. There are other examples where Janajati people have protested against various hydropower projects for violating their land rights, for instance in Lamjung, Tanahu, Rasuwa and Palpa districts,” he says.

“There continues to be strong Janajati resistance movements in various parts of the country,” adds Limbu, and that it is difficult to suppress such community-level movements. These days, Janajati groups are also engaged in rigorous research, while new Janajati associations are being formed in education and other sectors. All this, says Limbu, will give the movement a new shape and strength. That, alas, is a minority view among Janajati activists.

A little over a year ago, 21-year-old Jenny Khadka’s husband threw acid on her because she ran away from him. She had had enough of his abuses. Jenny suffered 20 percent burns, and spent two months in the hospital where she underwent nine surgeries. 

At one point, she confesses, she even thought of ending her life. It would be so easy to jump off the hospital building, she recalls thinking. She couldn’t bear the thought of the additional financial burden her mounting medical expenses would put on her family. 

“When I had recovered a bit, I wanted to go home. But I couldn’t. My family didn’t have money to get me discharged,” says Jenny. 

Fast forward a year and Jenny is home and has largely come to terms with what has happened. Her case still hasn’t gone to trial and she is awaiting justice. Yet, she claims to be in a better place, at least mentally if not physically.

“The physical scars will never fade. They will always remind me of that horrible evening when life changed forever,” she says. 

But Jenny is determined not to let that one incident, however horrifying, dictate the course of her life. Today, she is actively working on burns-related awareness programs through Sagun, an institute for social research and action. She dreams of joining college and maybe being able to speak German one day. 

Rumi Rajbhandari, founder of Astitwa Nepal, a non-profit organization that works on acid and burn violence, says Jenny is one of the strongest survivors she has seen to date. 

“Most burn survivors take years to accept what has happened to them but Jenny has been quick to move on. She wants to work towards a brighter future,” says Rajbhandari. 

And indeed, Jenny says her biggest regret in life would be if she let her past affect her future. So, she tries to lock the bitter memories in a corner of her mind and move on, however difficult that might be at times. 

For the full story: https://theannapurnaexpress.com/news/the-unflagging-spirit-of-a-young-acid-attack-survivor-2721

Even as the country was in the middle of a pandemic, Hindu priests were in high demand during the recent Naag Panchami (the day of worship of snakes) and Janai Purnima (the day of wearing of holy thread). Many people wanted the priests to come to their homes and bless them on these auspicious occasions, even by braving the grave corona risk. Did the priests oblige?    

Like folks from most other professions, the priests too are caught between the fear of the pandemic and their livelihood. It’s a tough choice.

Balram Aryal, a 21-year-old priest who plies his traditional trade in Kanchanpur in far-western Nepal, is often involved in religious ceremonies at the local Shree Radhakrishna Muktinarayan Mandir. He says more and more people started coming to the temple for rituals and pooja after the end of the nationwide lockdown. “I think people visit temples when they can’t see a way out of their problems and seek divine guidance, as is happing now,” he adds.

People also sometimes summon Aryal to their homes for rituals. “Despite the pandemic, some people, especially the elderly, want to continue with their religious rituals like pooja, Graha Shanti, and so on,” he says.

Prajwal Luitel, 30, a priest in Kathmandu, has seen a slight increase in religious activities after the end of the lockdown. Yet he says that “except for most important rituals such as Nwaran [child’s naming ceremony] and funeral rites, other poojas and purans are not being performed”.

In the reckoning of Keshav Upadhyaya, 25, a practicing priest in Dang district in mid-western Nepal, the pandemic has increased people’s devotion. “Yes, I find that people do turn to God during hard times. Yet their religiosity will be tested the more the pandemic grips the country,” he says.

But Bishnu Prapanna, 40, a priest native to Kathmandu, fears the extinction of religious beliefs, activities, and cultures after witnessing major religious functions and services being put off for months on end. 

Health and safety

Priests are also abiding by certain safety measures to protect themselves and their clients from the virus. During the recent Janai Purnima, a video went viral on social media. It showed a priest, with protective face gear on, putting the sacred thread (doro) around a devotee’s wrist, but before doing so, he rubbed his hands with sanitizer. 

Priest Aryal, when asked about safety measures, says devotees without masks are not allowed into the temple. Crowds and big gatherings are also barred. 

While visiting homes to perform rituals, Aryal always wears a mask, and never eats outside. 

Luitel has now canceled all non-urgent work after the recent surge in corona cases. “I must think about my family’s safety. Unless it’s urgent, I convince my hosts to postpone the rituals they want to perform,” he says. 

Besides normal safety measures, like wearing a mask and using sanitizers, Upadhyaya takes a bath, both before and after a ritual. And Prapanna says he avoids public vehicles: “I would rather walk for two hours, than get a ride where I could possibly contract the virus.”

With or without the pandemic, Upadhyaya says religious people are always following health and safety measures. They don’t eat outside, they try to minimize their contact with others, except during ceremonies, and they maintain cleanliness. “We, the priests, do not eat junk food or meat, from where we could get bacteria and virus. And we regularly meditate to boost our immunity,” he explains.  

Going online?

If the pandemic continues, the livelihood of these priests may take a battering. This is why Prajwal Luitel is already thinking outside the box. As an alternative to going to temples or visiting people’s homes, he is now thinking of providing his services virtually. Luitel has already done a virtual pooja for one of his friend’s family during the lockdown. “It was a big success and I intend to continue with it,” he says.

Though online rituals are an alternative, not everyone has access to internet and smartphones. Nor are big rituals possible online. “In these tough times, we will all have to be a bit innovative and flexible,” Luitel says. 

When Jenny Khadka was 20 years old, her husband threw acid on her for refusing to go back home with him. He had brought the acid in a vodka bottle and had showed it to Jenny minutes before the incident.

Jenny had married a man 20 years her senior when she was 14. He said he loved her. For her, it wasn’t love, confesses Jenny, but fear of returning home and facing her father’s wrath after fleeing to Okhaldhunga on his motorbike that compelled her to marry this man. She later found out that he was already married and had an eight-year-old son.

“That evening when he dangled the vodka bottle in front of my face and asked me if I knew what it was, I confidently said that a drunkard would obviously carry alcohol with him,” says Jenny.

Suddenly, a cold splash fell on her. Jenny was just about to brush off the wetness when she felt her skin burn like plastic.

Two months in the hospital and nine surgeries later, Jenny, who had suffered 20 percent burn, mostly on her neck, chest and arms, was ready to put it all behind her. Four months after the incident, she, with the help of Astitwa Nepal, an organization that works to rehabilitate victims of violence, had secured a job at Sagun, an institute for social research and action.

“It wasn’t easy but I didn’t want that one incident to change my life. I have many dreams and responsibilities,” she says.

Up until the nationwide lockdown on March 24 to curb the spread of Covid-19, Jenny was actively engaged in conducting awareness campaigns through Sagun, under its Participatory Burn Prevention project. She has traveled to Janakpur and Hetauda and given training to as many as 500 women.

Sociologist Kamal Phuyal, who is the team leader of the said project, says he saw a lot of potential in Jenny when he first interviewed her for the job.

“As a victim of acid attack, she has been able to connect with rural women in a way others’ probably couldn’t have. But that wasn’t the reason we offered her a chance to work with us. It wasn’t because of sympathy either. She was very clear she didn’t want it to be that way,” says Phuyal, adding that he was impressed by the way she conducted herself and tried to rise above her situation.

“Jenny had that zeal to do something,” he says.

Phuyal took a chance on her and he hasn’t been disappointed. He says wherever she has gone for trainings and awareness campaigns, she has managed to impress people. Now, he has a lot of expectations from her. In the next 10 years, he expects her to have completed her masters. She has only finished her SEE. He believes, in the future, she can do well as a human rights activist.

“When I look at Jenny, I see a bold, courageous young woman who has what it takes to make a difference,” he says.

Rumi Rajbhandari, founder of Astitwa Nepal, calls Jenny one of the strongest acid attack survivors she has met till date. When Rajbhandari first saw her at Kirtipur Hospital, she thought Jenny wouldn’t make it as most of her injuries were on the neck area and there were many complications.

But Jenny pulled through—and how.

College, violin, German

However, there are moments of intense grief. She longs to see her five-year-old son. Sometimes, the scars make her cringe. It’s a stark reminder of the time when she ran screaming for help after the attack and not a single person came forward to help her. They just gawked and muttered.

Yet the sadness and overwhelming emotions, she says, only last a few minutes.

“My family and I have seen some terrible times but we don’t want that to drag us down. We can’t let it because then we will never see better days,” she says.

Just a little over a year after the incident, she has many plans that keep her mind off the unfortunate event. She wants to join college when educational establishments reopen. She will resume violin lessons that she had taken up right before the lockdown.

At home, besides reading and listening to music, she loves to cook and experiment with new dishes, makes paper crafts to decorate her room, and studies a little bit of German.

“I have many interests and hobbies, and they keep me sane,” says Jenny.

As normal as Jenny’s trying to be, her mother, Kamala Khadka, confesses that she is scared for her daughter even today. Constant threats from Jenny’s perpetrator aside, Kamala worries about her daughter’s health and her future.

“People look at you differently and they are a little disgusted by your wounds,” says Kamala.

She adds that she knows her daughter has the strength to power through the tough times ahead of her but that doesn’t console a mother.

Jenny, however, considers herself lucky. Things could have been worse, she says. Her face is unscarred, her right ear is partially damaged but the acid didn’t get to the eardrum so her hearing is intact, and most of her scars can be hidden with a scarf, though she prefers not to.

“Luck has always been on my side,” says Jenny.

She even talks about the time she was making a living selling cosmetics on a cart in Banepa—this was the first time she had run away from her possessive and abusive husband. With her 14-month-old son strapped to her back, she would easily make Rs 4,000 in day, with a profit margin of Rs 2,500.

“Other cosmetic sellers like me wouldn’t do that well,” she recalls with a laugh.

“You see why I consider myself destiny’s child. Things have somehow always worked in my favor,” she says.

This ability to look at the positive side of life has had a cathartic effect on her. The society’s censuring eyes don’t bother her but she hopes no one has to go through what she did. Acid attack condemns you to a life that’s possibly worse than death and she doesn’t wish that on her worst enemy.

So, Jenny wants to be able to work to empower and enable women to not be dependent on the men in their lives, be it their fathers, husbands, or sons. She feels financial independence is key to women leading stronger, better lives.

What’s done is done

According to Jenny, women often normalize abuse at home by laughing it off and hiding bruises under makeup. Women give multiple “second chances” to their violent husbands. The society too doesn’t intervene when they see couples fighting. There’s a popular saying in Nepali, Logne swashni ko jhagada paral ko aago (A husband and wife’s quarrels don’t last long), that governs people’s attitude towards marital discords.

“If someone had spoken up on that night of the incident when he was shouting at me, maybe he wouldn’t have had the guts to do what he did,” says Jenny.

What’s done is done, she quickly adds, not being the kind to live in a world of maybe’s and fantasies. But she has learnt an invaluable lesson, she says, and today she finds herself stepping in and speaking up when she sees a man harass a woman or hears a couple arguing, and urges others to do the same.

“Sometimes a small intervention can avert a disaster,” she says.

Rajbhandari says she is happy to have seen Jenny evolve in the past year, from a timid girl to one who is able to voice her opinion.

“Many acid attack and burn survivors take years to come to terms with what has happened to them but it’s amazing how quickly Jenny has been able to move on,” she says.

Jenny smiles when she is told this and says, “I don’t want to be hung up on my past and spoil my future. That would be a bigger tragedy than what’s already happened.”