As 2025 comes to an end and 2026 begins, the distance between what is possible and what is practiced feels both close and painfully far. The past year has taught us lessons not through speeches or strategy documents, but through lived realities.
If one force clearly shaped 2025, it was Nepal’s GenZ. Across campuses, streets, and digital platforms, young people questioned corruption, exclusion, climate inaction, and the widening gap between political promises and daily life. Their expressions were not always polished, but they were deeply sincere. Unlike earlier movements, this generation did not organize only through political parties. They mobilized through social media, art, satire, frustration, and shared hope. They were not rejecting the nation they were refusing to inherit broken systems.
What stood out was not just protest, but clarity. Young people were asking for dignity, participation, and fairness. As we step into 2026, the real question is no longer whether young people are ready for leadership, but whether our institutions are ready to listen and adapt.
For decades, development in Nepal has leaned heavily on foreign assistance. In 2025, that reliance began to feel increasingly fragile. Global political shifts particularly renewed foreign aid cuts from the United States under the Trump administration sent shockwaves across development sectors worldwide. In Nepal, projects slowed, priorities shifted, and civil society organizations faced sudden uncertainty. Decisions made thousands of kilometers away affected health programs, governance initiatives, and social services at home.
The lesson from 2025 is not that foreign aid has no role. It remains important. But it can no longer be the backbone of development. Aid volatility exposed the urgent need for domestic resource mobilization, stronger public institutions, and political accountability. As we move into 2026, development must be treated less as external support and more as a national responsibility rooted in public trust.
In 2025, Nepal signaled its ambition to modernize governance through technology. The government established a National Artificial Intelligence (AI) Center to ease the work of both public and private sectors through digital systems. On paper, this represents progress, efficiency, and readiness for the future. Yet alongside this ambition, important questions emerged. Who benefits from these digital systems? Who is left behind?
While digital platforms expanded access for some, many others persons with disabilities, rural populations, older citizens, and those without reliable internet continued to struggle. Technology, the year reminded us, is not neutral. It reflects choices about whose needs are prioritized. As Nepal accelerates digital transformation in 2026, accessibility, ethical use of AI, and inclusive design must be embedded from the start. Otherwise, innovation risks deepening inequalities rather than reducing them.
When resources shrink, inclusion is often the first to be treated as optional. In 2025, as funding tightened and political attention shifted, people with disabilities, women, and marginalized communities once again had to fight to remain visible. Yet across the country, organizations of persons with disabilities, parents’ groups, and community advocates continued their work often quietly, often underfunded. Their message remained firm: inclusion is not charity. Accessibility is not generosity. Both are right.
The lesson is clear. Inclusion cannot depend on favorable conditions. As we move into 2026, accessibility must be built into public transport, education, digital services, and local governance by design not added later as an afterthought.
In 2025, climate change stopped being abstract. Floods, landslides, heatwaves, and water shortages became routine realities. For many communities, adaptation was no longer about planning, it was about survival. Local governments were often the first responders, yet many lacked adequate authority, resources, and technical capacity. Climate change revealed not only environmental vulnerability, but governance gaps.
The lesson for 2026 is demanding but unavoidable: climate action must be locally led, inclusive, and adequately funded. Policies discussed in Kathmandu or global forums must translate into protection where people actually live.
Another defining reality of 2025 was migration. Remittances continued to sustain households, even as migrant workers faced uncertainty abroad and limited protection at home. Behind economic statistics are human stories of parents aging alone, children growing up without caregivers, and returnees struggling to reintegrate.
Development in 2026 must treat migration not only as an economic strategy, but as a social reality that demands dignity, protection, and reintegration pathways.
Walking into 2026 with purpose
As I think back to that December morning on my terrace in Bhaktapur, the dream I had does not feel unrealistic. It feels only unfinished. Nepal does not need louder slogans or thicker policy documents in 2026. It needs quieter courage listening to lived experiences, reforming institutions, and placing dignity at the center of development. The lessons of 2025 are simple but demanding: choose people over convenience, inclusion over shortcuts, and long-term trust over short-term gain.
As Nepal steps into 2026, this reflection coincides with a significant political moment. Early general elections are expected to be held in March 2026 to elect the members of the House of Representatives. Elections are often framed as moments of competition but they are also moments of choice. The real question is not only who will govern next, but how they will govern. Whether the lessons of 2025 on youth participation, inclusion, climate responsibility, ethical digitalization, and dignity will shape political priorities, or once again be postponed in the noise of short-term promises.
For many young people and marginalized communities, 2026 is not just another election year. It is a test of whether our democracy can respond to lived realities with honesty and courage. If development is to mean anything in the years ahead, it must be rooted in accountability, inclusion, and trust values that no election should ignore. If 2026 becomes the year we begin closing the gap between imagination and reality, then that winter-morning dream on a Bhaktapur terrace may no longer feel like a dream at all.
