When your dog goes missing
There’s a page called ‘Lost and Found Dogs (Nepal)’ on Facebook. Every day, there are at least a couple of posts—pictures of dogs of different breeds found roaming the streets. People also share photos of their lost pets, seeking help to find them. Some dogs are reunited with their families. Most (around seven out of 10), unfortunately, never make it back home. “It’s difficult to find your dog once it runs away, which is why pet owners need to be extra careful to ensure their safety,” says Raina Byanjankar, founder of Oxsa Nepal Animal Welfare Society. She says the society’s rescue team has come across many lost dogs without any identification on them. There is no way to know whom they belong to. Even when they put up pictures of the dogs on their social media handles, most of the time, they can’t find the owners. In Nepal, there isn’t a system, like microchipping, to keep track of pets. This not only makes it easy to abandon dogs when they get old or sick and it becomes difficult to take care of them, or when the novelty of having a certain breed of dog wears off. But that also makes it next to impossible to locate dogs if they go missing. And dogs often run away from their homes, for various reasons, says Shristi Singh Shrestha, an animal rights activist. Dogs that are kept in small spaces or chained or caged tend to escape when they can. They could run off when they are frightened or in heat. If you have a male dog at home, it could be set off by the scent of a female dog in heat nearby. Then, there are instances where dogs are stolen for selling or breeding purposes, adds Shristi. Spaying or neutering your dog could help tackle these issues. Spaying eliminates a female dog’s heat cycle, which can last up to 21 days and happens twice a year. Neutering has a similar effect on male dogs. They are then less likely to seek out female dogs in heat. Additionally, spayed or neutered dogs are of no use to breeders so it also cuts the chances of them being stolen. “Many people don’t know that spaying or neutering is actually good for their dog’s overall health as well as it reduces the chances of reproductive health issues,” says Shristi, adding that studies have also shown that spayed or neutered dogs live longer than those that haven’t undergone the procedures. People bring a dog into their homes for different purposes. Some want to scare away possible intruders, or their children want a pet. For others, it’s a status symbol. If their neighbor has a Labrador, they need to have a similar expensive breed, without factoring in the needs of the dog or the responsibilities that come with having a pet. How your dog behaves, and that includes running away, depends on the environment around it and the treatment it’s given. If your dog has ample space to play, is taken out on walks, and has been spayed or neutered, it’s less likely to run off at the first possible chance of escape. Regular walks also help familiarize your dogs with the area, says Raina. “These dogs will be able to find their way back home if they do get out.” Sometimes, despite doing everything to keep your furry friends happy, they might get confused or anxious, which can make them flee. Fear (of loud noises, like thunderstorms and firecrackers) can also trigger their fight or flight response. Boredom is yet another reason why dogs run away. When they are left alone with nothing to do, they will try to entertain themselves. Exploring unfamiliar territory is one of the many ways in which they do it. “Understanding your dog and its needs is the first step in preventing it from running away,” says Shristi. There’s no hard and fast rule to finding a lost pet. But there are a few things you can and must do, say those who work for animal welfare in Nepal. When looking around your neighborhood, you should also check hiding places like behind bins and bushes. Many times, people only comb the streets and the obvious places. As dogs are extremely territorial, local street dogs can attack pet dogs, which is why they might go into hiding. Then, reach out to your local community and inform as many people as you can. Put up photos of your pet and promise a reward if possible. Raina says she has seen locals being indifferent about lost dogs. They think it’s just a dog, you can easily replace it. So a reward might provide these kinds of people an incentive to be on the lookout. Social media can be your ally as well. There are many pages on Facebook and Instagram to circulate information. This has proved to be useful in many cases, says Raina. Dog lovers are quick to put up photos of animals they think are lost and it has helped reconnect many pets with their families. Shristi, on the other hand, thinks the process could be made simpler by using dog tags with engraved names and phone numbers of the owners. Sushant Acharya, veterinary technician at Animal Nepal, a non-profit animal welfare organization, says every month they find at least four to five lost pet dogs on the streets. Though they circulate the message through social media, they aren’t always able to find the owners. “If the dogs had tags on their collars, we would be able to get in touch with their owners,” he says. During Tihar, many dogs ran away, scared by the bursting of crackers. Some apparently hid in tight spaces and were unable to get out. Shristi says dogs are capable of things they don’t normally do—like crawling into tiny hideouts and scaling the wall to escape from the garden—when they are terrified. People tend to assume their dogs will react in a certain way, but there’s no way you can predict that, she says. “The best thing you can do is exercise extra caution during festivals and seasons when they are in heat but also ensure their needs are being met during other times as well.” Isha Poudel, whose dog ran away recently, says losing a pet is a traumatic experience but when it runs away, you don’t have a sense of closure, and that’s even worse. “You’re always wondering where it is, what it’s doing, whether it’s cold or hungry. It’s a nightmare.”
How will people with disabilities vote?
The federal and provincial elections are just days away. Preparations are in full swing. The excitement is palpable, with election-related discussions at every home and tea shop. But for people with disabilities, it’s a tricky situation. Without disabled-friendly infrastructure and facilities, they will have to face many hurdles to cast their votes. Some have chosen not to vote, fearing the humiliation they will have to face at the polling when they can’t fill out the ballot papers or reach the ballot box. The inability to exercise a fundamental right, as guaranteed by the Constitution of Nepal 2015, is infuriating, says Gajendra Budathoki, journalist and editor of Taksar News. Budathoki is wheelchair-bound and has been, over the years, raising his voice to make elections more disabled-friendly. He laments nothing has been done to make the elections inclusive and accessible to all. “The government and the Election Commission could do more if they wanted to. But they don’t. This is nothing new,” he says. Budathoki recalls the 2017 local elections when supporters of a certain party took him to the polling station, almost a kilometer away from his home in Kapan, but they were nowhere to be found once he had voted. The road wasn’t in a good condition and it was quite steep too. Budathoki had a difficult time getting himself home. This time around as well, various parties’ cadres have approached him, promising to facilitate the voting process but he is wary. He will have to figure out how to work around the issues or simply stay at home. Article 42 of the constitution states that people with disabilities shall have the right to participate in state matters on the basis of the principle of inclusion. The Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act 2017 states those with disabilities have the right to be candidates as well as cast votes fearlessly and voluntarily, with or without help. Despite these protections in place, people with disabilities are marginalized and hence not granted the equal rights they have been promised. “It’s appalling that the Election Commission takes so much money to prepare for the elections but cites lack of budget where disabled-friendly facilities are concerned,” says Budathoki. Ultimately, the government and the political parties are at fault, he adds. They are blatantly disregarding the law by not including the disabled population in state affairs. Budathoki feels the government doesn’t include issues of people with disability in its discussions with the commission, which in turn gets an excuse not to act. The Election Commission, however, maintains they have done a lot to make the elections as inclusive and disabled-friendly as possible. Shaligram Sharma Poudel, spokesperson for the commission, says the local authorities have been instructed to look into this and to facilitate the process, including making ramps, rope-markings, as well as running awareness programs for volunteers on how to handle people with disabilities. “We will give vehicle passes to people with disabilities so that they can get to the voting station easily. They can also bring someone to help them,” says Poudel. But people with disabilities aren’t assured. Those ApEx spoke to say these are just superficial provisions to mask the EC’s lack of efforts to include voters with disabilities in the upcoming elections. Only 100 out of the 22,000 polling stations have some sort of disabled-friendly infrastructure. These too have been set up with the help of the National Federation of the Disabled, Nepal (NFDN) and the International Foundation for Electoral Systems (IFES). The commission says the 100 polling booths have been set up as models for future elections. The commission seems to have a ‘something is better than nothing’ approach to inclusiveness. The EC doesn’t have any data on the number of voters with disabilities. Electoral materials too haven’t been readied in required formats such as audio, Braille, sign language, and easy-to-read. However, the commission still insists it has worked on making the election inclusive. Surya Prasad Arya, information officer, EC, says they are determined to abide by the constitution and even have a separate budget to make polls disabled-friendly. In July, the commission informed IFES that 100 booths wouldn’t be enough and sought additional help from them. There was no response, he says. But people with disabilities wonder why the government looks for outside assistance without doing the bare minimum itself. What is the election budget spent on when the commission seeks help from the private sector for most of its needs, muses Budathoki. Kiran Shilpakar, chairperson of the National Association of Physical Disabled-Nepal, says people with disabilities are denied their rights time and again on different pretexts. The elections are no different. Be it a tight budget or not enough time to plan, the election body has only excuses to offer. As a once in a five-year event, claiming to be pressed for time shows a lack of empathy, he says. From registering to vote to voting, everything is an ordeal without disabled-friendly infrastructure, say people with disabilities. Journalist Budathoki recalls a harrowing incident when he went to get himself registered on the voter’s list. “There was no accessible way for me to reach the office in my wheelchair. I had to be carried like a sack of potatoes. It was embarrassing,” he says. Then there’s also the issue of whether the commission can ensure fair elections when a section of the population is sidelined. Budathoki says various political parties try to convince people with disabilities to vote for them by playing on their emotions. It’s not uncommon for parties to assign workers to take people with disabilities to voting centers. This can result in the misuse of votes especially when someone requires help filling out the ballot papers. It was found that, in the 2017 federal and provincial elections, votes of the visually impaired and those with psychosocial and intellectual disabilities were misused. Shilpakar adds that the government doesn’t want to address the issue as there’s a lot of ground to cover. People will have different kinds of needs according to the nature of their disability. Some have mobility troubles, some can’t see or hear, while others have intellectual limitations, he says. As a signatory to the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities-2006, Nepal can’t remain indifferent to their issues, he adds. Moreover, election is a state event and every citizen has the right to vote. Not making it accessible for people with disabilities is a violation of their basic human rights. Rama Dhakal, vice-president of NFDN, says they have always urged the election body to make voting easy for the disabled. There has to be a lot more public-private partnership to ensure those with disabilities aren’t excluded by the state simply for the lack of infrastructure. The 100 polling stations that NFDN has worked on in collaboration with the IFES are by no means enough but the initiative could be a start of making future elections inclusive, she says. “I take this as a milestone but more work needs to be done,” adds Dhakal.
How our society doesn’t support a sustainable lifestyle
Last weekend when I cleaned out my bag, there were a couple of receipts, a plastic spoon (the pink ones you get when you buy a Baskin Robbins ice-cream), a crumpled zip lock, and other random items that I didn’t want to throw in the trash and vowed to find some use for. There was a tiny golden safety pin and some black thread—it was a part of the tag of a jacket I had recently purchased. A stray button had also found its way into my large and often heavy tote bag that doubles as a catchall for everything from essentials like the phone and wallet to parking stubs and pointless flyers regularly stuck on the car’s wipers. On a daily basis, I try to minimize waste. Besides the most basic things like carrying a steel water bottle and refilling it multiple times a day at the office and keeping a cloth tote bag for grocery shopping in my purse, I rethink almost everything I do. If I get an ice-cream, it will be in a cone so that I don’t have to throw anything. I have pretty much stopped eating instant noodles because there’s just so much plastic in a single packet. I segregate my waste and give away the recyclables to Doko Recyclers, a waste management company. Doko actively conserves resources by reducing, reusing, repairing, repurposing, and recycling. Their services help you do the same. But it’s so difficult to not create waste as I go about my days. The problem is that our consumerist setting thrives on single-use items for convenience. We are governed by a ‘consume and throw away’ mindset. Even when I say no to receipts or the free samples of spices and brochures promoting sales, the attending staff at the stores I go to—for a quick coffee or to buy some groceries on my way back home from work—will invariably hand them to me or shove them in with my purchases. A few months ago, at the Bhat-Bhateni Supermarket in Pulchowk, I asked the cashier why she had printed the receipt despite my repeatedly asking her not to do so. She simply shrugged and said I could throw it away if I didn’t need it. I told her I didn’t want to waste paper which was why I had said I didn’t want a copy in the first place. She said it wasn’t a big deal and that she would throw it for me. This kind of incident happens on a regular basis. I tell cashiers I won’t be needing a customer copy of the receipt when they start ringing in my items but most of them will still print it out. Manu Karki, the founder of Eco-Saathi, a brand that provides sustainable alternatives for single-use items, says she faces similar issues every day. Karki says eating out is an ordeal because she is given single-use cutlery and straws even when she specifically tells waiters not to bring them. She carries a set of reusable bamboo cutlery but many plastic ones end up in her bag at the end of the week as she doesn’t want to throw them out. She says this shows people’s lack of awareness regarding environmental preservation. “As someone who works in the field of sustainability and practices it too, it’s very disheartening to see people being careless about consumption,” she says. Karki adds it’s almost impossible to lead a sustainable lifestyle while traveling. The problem is that potable tap water isn’t available in Nepal and we must largely rely on bottled water. This inevitably creates a lot of waste. Karki says the reaction of hotel staff when she asks for hot water is funny. They think she is trying to save money by skimping on mineral water. I have also had this problem every time when traveling. Recently, I went to Lucknow in India. Determined not to create more than a small bag of trash, I carried a water bottle and reusable shopping bags. My husband and I even chose a ‘sustainable’ hotel. Unfortunately, the only thing sustainable about the swanky hotel we stayed at was that the electronic room key was reusable. After printing out bills and vouchers that we didn’t need, sticking little tags on water bottles, and proving paper napkins instead of cloth ones at breakfast, the message on our key card thanking us for ‘helping them stay green’ by returning the key at the end of our stay made my eyes roll far back into my head. The business industry is profit-driven and sustainability has become a trend, a CSR at most. It’s not practiced responsibility or with a conscience. At Biryani Queen, one of the restaurants we went to eat at while on this trip, I asked the waiter for regular water. He told me they didn’t serve it and offered us the bottled water that was already on the table. I said they must have a lot of plastic bottles to get rid of at the end of the day, he agreed and said they couldn’t do anything about it. Even when I offered to pay the same price for regular water, he insisted on bottled water. The problem isn’t limited to water bottles only. Everything comes in packages and it’s pretty difficult to avoid. Traveling is sometimes a nightmare when I think of all the things I have to throw away. This time, I purposefully saved the little tags that the hotel would put on water bottles saying they were complimentary. I thought they would reuse it. But they would toss the old ones and use new ones every single time. They said it was hotel policy. “It’s stressful to have to explain to people why you are trying to save these little things. Most don’t get it,” says Karki. Sadly, there seems to be no way out of this situation unless things change on a policy level. “There must be more environmental awareness and policies to support an eco-friendly lifestyle,” she says.
Parties disappoint voters again
Balen Shah’s victory in the local elections in May earlier this year gave people a lot of hope. It seemed like the beginning of a much-needed change, said those ApEx spoke to. People wanted good, capable candidates—those who worked in favor of the people, rather than being driven by their biases and agendas. Political parties, they thought, would realize this and nominate worthy names for the federal parliament and provincial assembly elections scheduled for Nov 20. But the names that have been registered at the Election Commission reflect a different truth: It’s the same old faces—those that have been elected and reelected—from which we will have to choose once again. Madhab Maharjan, owner of Mandala Book Point in Jamal, Kathmandu, says he is unhappy with the way things have turned out. “I can stamp the ballot paper randomly as it doesn’t matter who is elected. It’s the same lot anyway and we know how they are,” he says. Nepali politics has always been a closed circle. Politicians favor their own. This, Maharjan points out, has been a trend in our society for eons and is unlikely to change soon. People must vote sensibly—choose the right person, rather than blindly follow a particular party, he says. Bhakti Shah, a transgender activist and member of Blue Diamond Society, says he is upset over the lack of representation of the LGBTIQA+ community in the upcoming elections. “With just nine percent of direct election candidates being women and only one from our community, the nominations paint a bleak picture,” he says. Grishma Ojha, a faculty member at Thames International College, says she has no faith in politics. The inclusive spirit of the constitution hasn’t been honored by the political parties. The required quota for women hasn’t been met and marginalized communities have, once again, been sidelined. Ojha is going to vote as it’s a right she believes she must exercise. But she wishes people had the option of rejecting all the candidates on the ballot paper, as they do in many other democratic countries. “Only then will things change,” she says. Political analyst Indra Adhikari says political parties’ blatant disregard of inclusion in candidate selection is shameful. Worse, she says, they will get away with it as the political nexus is strong. “Our party structure is such that there is no space for fresh faces and unless that changes, little else will,” she says.
LGBTIQA+ community in Nepal: Upset over electoral underrepresentation
Nepal is gearing up for the general and provincial elections—to elect the 275 members of the federal House of Representatives and 330 members of the seven provincial assemblies—on Nov 20 this year. But the LGBTIQA+ community feels grossly underrepresented and marginalized again, much like in the local elections earlier in May. Despite Article 42 of the 2015 constitution guaranteeing them equal rights in all important state organs, the reality is that lesbians, gays, and transgenders are still easily dismissed. “It’s one thing to make laws about equality and inclusion but quite another to put them into practice,” says Sunita Lama, transgender rights activist. She doesn’t want to vote in the general elections because “it doesn’t matter who is elected”. Unless there are candidates from their community, their issues will again be sidelined. “No one else will work for us,” she says. Lily Thapa of the National Human Rights Commission supports her claims and says there is little participation of the LBGTIQA+ community in politics. “They were sidelined in the local elections too. It’s a human rights violation,” she says. Surya Prasad Aryal, assistant spokesperson, Election Commission of Nepal, says there are only 185 people registered under the ‘others’ category in the voter list. It’s still too early to determine how many candidates from the LGBTIQA+ community are going to contest the elections. He says each party has to meet certain criteria for inclusiveness. But the problem goes beyond what happens at election time. That is just one of the many repercussions of a much larger issue of identity crisis. The fact that the government has tried to force-fit all identities into a single category doesn’t sit well with the LGBTIQA+ community. Transgender males identify themselves as males while transgender females identify themselves as females. ‘Others’ is basically meant for those who don’t identify with either male or female. In the previous elections, there have been issues of gender minorities not being allowed to queue with the gender they identify with. Using an umbrella term for all sexual identities is unfair and undermines their worth, say community members. “It’s humiliating to be a transgender woman and then be called by your dead name [the birth name of a transgender person],” says Lama, adding this makes many people from their community hesitant to participate in the elections. Bhakti Shah, activist, Blue Diamond Society (BDS), says they have been lobbying political parties to include them in the upcoming elections by making the polls safe and inclusive. Shah is hopeful Dilu Buduja (Badri Pun), a transgender man, and Shilpa Chaudhary, a transgender woman, both from the CPN (Unified Socialist) party, chaired by Madhav Kumar Nepal, will get elected. That way, they will at least have someone to voice their concerns in parliament and their issues could then be addressed at policy level. Following Sunil Babu Pant, who became the country’s first gay MP after the 2008 polls, some members of the LGBTIQA+ community had contested the elections in the hopes of repeating the feat. In 2013, Bhumika Shrestha got a seat in Nepali Congress and won the second Constituent Assembly election that year. Her name was then recommended for the federal elections in 2017 but she was later told it had to be pulled back as her citizenship stated her name as ‘Kailash Shrestha’. Laxmi Ghalan, who founded Mitini Nepal, an NGO working for lesbian rights, was another gender minority candidate contesting the 2013 CA election. In 2017, Pinky Gurung, president of BDS, contested the federal parliament elections as a candidate from the Naya Shakti Nepal Party. In the same year, Pun was barred from contesting local level elections in his home district of Myagdi as his citizenship was issued under the ‘third’ category. The district election officer told him he was neither male nor female and was thus disqualified. “The government has included ‘third’ gender in voter rolls, immigration forms, citizenship, and the census. But it’s still largely for show, to appear progressive,” says Pun. Lamenting the fact that people of the LGBTIQA+ community still face many challenges while applying for citizenship, he says this limits their agency and access to important national events like the elections. Elyn Bhandari, activist, BDS, says he isn’t going to vote in the upcoming elections as he isn’t yet on the voter list. The reason is that he would have had to register as a female and he isn’t comfortable with that. “I want to vote in the elections because it’s our right. But I’m not going to unless my citizenship is changed to identify me as male,” he says. Manisha Dhakal, director, BDS, agrees with Bhandari. As a transgender woman, she too feels discriminated when she can’t exercise her right in the way she wants. She says political parties are going against the constitution by not including them in their manifestos and not filing their names as candidates. Representatives from the community are holding discussions and workshops with different political parties on how this can be rectified, in the hope of changing things in future elections, if not the upcoming one. In 2007, Nepal’s Supreme Court ordered the government to end discrimination against the then estimated 350,000 people who made up the LGBTIQA+ community. Homosexuality became legal. This landmark ruling paved the way for equal rights legislation. Since then, it’s been easier for LGBTIQA+ people to come out, without the fear of persecution. But the bias and aversion are still palpable, says Nilam Poudel, transgender activist, model and makeup artist. There have been instances when people have talked about the CPN (Unified Socialist) party as ‘that party which has unnatural people’ in it. Political parties seem to have much to lose by bringing in gays and lesbians. Pun, who belongs to the party, doubts he has gotten the candidacy to represent the LGBTIQA+ community. He says he and his entire family have been involved in politics for far too long not to be picked. Poudel says LGBTIQA+ issues are a political agenda for the parties. There is rarely any commitment to uplift the community. She knows many LGBTIQA+ people won’t vote as they have lost all faith in political parties and the system. “Different political parties have approached me. They have tried to convince me and my friends to vote for them. They say they will guarantee our rights if they win. But I can tell, based on past experiences, that these are empty promises,” she says. Swastika Pariyar, who works at Mitini Nepal, says she too won’t be voting in the general elections. She isn’t interested as the community has never received any political support. But she says there is definitely a need for LGBTIQA+ people to participate in politics. “Madhesis and Dalits, who are marginalized too, have their own candidates in different parties. We need that too,” she says. Pun, on the other hand, thinks there’s a long way to go for that. Political parties aren’t progressive enough. The biases run too deep. Instead, the community could come together and form their own party. But running a political party is an expensive affair. The LGBTIQA+ community is also divided as many people have problems with one another. It needs to give serious thought to how to come together and work for a better future, Pun adds, and not put little rifts over life-altering reforms. Raunaq Singh Adhikari, advocate, says not including LGBTIQA+ people in important state organs is just a bureaucratic hurdle. From a legal standpoint, much is in favor of the community. Despite the constitutional protections, there’s still a certain level of homophobia and transphobia in those in power. “It takes time for the Supreme Court’s directives to be implemented. Those who should be working on it are not doing so,” says Adhikari. For instance, the Supreme Court has repeatedly ruled that people should get citizenship based on the mother’s name but when people go to the ward office, they are denied this right. “We are limited by our mindsets, not by our laws,” he says.
Drowning in plastic
In 2015, marine biologist Christine Figgener filmed her team removing a plastic straw stuck in a sea-turtle’s nose. In 2017, in a photo taken by photographer and naturalist Justin Hofman, a seahorse in the ocean near Sumbawa Island, Indonesia, was seen clinging to a bright pink plastic cotton swab. Eighty to 120 tons of waste end up in the sea every minute and a large part of it is plastic. Around 81 percent of this comes from Asia as many of its rivers empty into the ocean. A study by the World Economic Forum estimates that, by 2050, there will be more plastic than fish in the sea. In Nepal, multiple efforts have been made to ban single-use plastics. Earlier this year, the Hotel Association Nepal announced that from 2025 all types of throwaway plastic products like toothbrushes, straws, cutlery, drink stirrers and water bottles, among others, would be prohibited at the 3,000 establishments under it. But a larger commitment, from all sectors, is needed to do away with plastic pollution. Households, restaurants, cafés, and stores generate a lot of plastic waste on a daily basis, from mineral water bottles and disposable cups to bags and wrappers. “Many restaurants in Kathmandu give you mineral water and not regular water. Even when you ask for a glass of water, they say they only have bottled water,” says Payal Basnet, 35, who eats out quite often with family and friends. Basnet says at most restaurants she visits—in Thamel and Jhamsikhel, the two major party hubs of the valley—the staff will break open the seal of a bottle of water without even asking you. “These are popular places that get a lot of customers. Just imagine how many plastic bottles they throw away at the end of the day,” says Basnet. Her friend, Shova Ghimire, 37, says she carries a water bottle with her and gets it refilled at the office and cafés multiple times a day. “I still have to buy a cup of coffee at cafés to get that water refill. Very rarely do I walk into a coffee shop or restaurant and ask them to refill my bottle and get it done for free,” she says. Both Basnet and Ghimire say they want to create as less plastic waste as possible but our system isn’t supportive of that sustainable lifestyle practice. Most restaurants, they agree, don’t care about the waste they are generating as long as they can reap the profits. Sinom Magar, staff at Croissant Café in Thapathali, Kathmandu, says plastic is inevitable at restaurants. Most drinks—like iced coffees and fresh juices—require straws and customers will ask for them if they don’t put one in their drinks. Magar doesn’t see an alternative to it. Bamboo, glass or steel straws aren’t practical as they need to be cleaned rigorously, nor are they very hygienic. Similarly, many random coffee shops around Kathmandu (in Ratopul, Sanepa, Jawalakhel, and Patan) claimed, with around 70 to 100 takeaways in a day, doing away with paper or plastic cups wasn’t an option. They were, however, open to the idea of customers bringing their own cups and said they would be willing to give discounts to them as well. Right now, with the exception of one or two regular customers who bring their own mugs five out of ten times, no one does so. “It’s about convenience. No one wants to carry around a bulky mug in their bags,” says Asim Khatri, owner of Rock Beans Coffee at Arun Thapa Chowk in Sanepa and in Chobhar. He says foreigners usually bring their own mugs whenever they come for takeaways but Nepalis don’t. Instead, most will drink their coffee there and then ask for the remaining to be transferred into a disposable cup if they need to leave suddenly. Rock Beans Coffee is trying to dissuade takeaways by working on creating a good ambience, so that people will choose to sit down with a cup of coffee instead of rushing out the door with a disposable cup in their hands. Not everyone, however, shows the same inclination to cut down on plastic waste. At Paris Bakery, which has kiosks at various Bhatbhateni Supermarkets in Kathmandu, a plastic-lined takeaway box is used for every order. Even when customers want to have a single pastry or chicken patty sitting on one of the stools lining their booth, they give it in a box, coupled with a tiny plastic spoon, barely bigger than your forefinger. I recently asked the waitress at the Pulchowk outlet why they use a box even when there’s no need for one. She said they didn’t have plates, and had been instructed to use the boxes for each order. Similarly, at Thakkhola, a popular restaurant that serves Thakali food, bottled water is kept at every table. The same is true for Bajeko Sekuwa where you ask for a glass of water and they bring you an empty glass and a mineral water bottle. Most restaurants sell bottled water at up to five times the regular market price, and asking customers if they want regular water or mineral water has become a neat little business trick to earn quick profits. “That this creates a lot of waste is a last thing on their minds,” says Ghimire. Rabindra Shrestha, who owns a small grocery store in Jawalakhel, Lalitpur, says bottled water is one of the fastest selling items. Every day, he sells at least 24 bottles of water along with a large roll of disposable cups (around100 pieces). Shrestha says offices in the area regularly buy disposable cups because of water shortage that makes washing up difficult. The garbage bin at the corner of his store was close to overflowing with plastic waste when I was there in the afternoon. Everything is wrapped or bottled in plastic so it’s hard to avoid, he says. When the government had initially banned plastic bags, people had no option but to carry a basket or a cloth bag for their shopping. But now shops have again started providing plastic bags. Weak implementation of rules and zero monitoring have led to repeated failure of the plastic ban. However, apart from banning plastic bags the government’s attention also needs to be drawn to all the unnecessary use of plastic at cafés and restaurants. Doing something about this could drastically reduce the bulk of trash, say those who work in waste management. Basnet adds it’s also up to us consumers to be a little conscious of our habits as well, instead of just relying on authorities to step up and do the needful. “If we all say no to disposable items whenever we can, we could make some headway in solving this plastic problem,” she says.
Acid and burn survivors: Judged by their scars, jobless as a result
Tucked between souvenir shops in Agra, India, close to the majestic Taj Mahal, is a small, cozy café—the Sheroes Hangout. It’s run by five acid attack survivors and began out of a crowdfunding initiative that collected $4,500 in 2014. Similarly, at the Lahore Beauty Salon in Pakistan, acid attack survivors can train to be beauticians. Both these ventures began out of an urgent need to provide acid and burn violence survivors a means of livelihood as job opportunities were rare, their scars an instant turnoff for potential employers.
In Nepal, too, acid and burn survivors have been unable to find jobs. This has not only made it impossible for them to rebuild their lives, but also dampened their spirits on a daily basis. Sabita Mahat, a burn survivor, says her application for a foreign job got rejected after the agent saw her photo. She was just 17 when her husband set her on fire because she flushed his drugs down the toilet. “I have two small children. I still need more surgeries to be able to move my neck properly. How will I do all this if nobody gives me work?” she says.
As tears threaten to spill over, she adds she hasn’t left a stone unturned in trying to earn a decent living. She used to be a makeup and henna artist. She did face-painting. She sold customized clay planters and piggy banks. She even tried starting a pickle business. Each time, her ventures either faltered after promising starts or they weren’t financially viable. Now she is over two million rupees in debt.
“I was getting my paperwork ready to go to Cyprus for a babysitting job. I thought if I worked hard for a few years, I would be able to pay back my loans. But the government apparently isn’t allowing Nepalis women to go abroad for work,” says Mahat.
Rumi Rajbhandari, founder, Astitwa, a non-profit that works for the rehabilitation of acid and burn violence survivors, says Mahat is one of the stronger ones she has seen in her over a decade-long career. But now even Mahat is frustrated. She has worked hard to turn her situation around but nothing seems to work in her favor and that can be depressing at times, says Rajbhandari. “It’s harrowing to be judged by your scars and not your capabilities,” she adds.
Living with scars and disfigurement in a society that values beauty can be an ordeal. The many acid and burn violence survivors I have met over the years have all confessed to covering up and trying to hide from prying public eyes. This makes reintegration into the society almost impossible. Worse, acid and burn violence cases often occur in low-income families, and victims are mostly women. The cost of immediate treatment and multiple surgeries thereafter coupled with zero job prospects causes an even bigger economic setback.
“People look at us with curiosity or pity. For them, we are different. And our society has never been accepting of those who don’t fit in,” says Mahat. She tells me about a friend of hers, another survivor, who is working at a bank in Hetauda, the capital of Bagmati Province. She got the job a couple of years ago because of connections but there have been multiple efforts to compel her to leave. Her colleagues don’t include her in team lunches or photos. Mahat says her friend is upset, but continues to fight for her right and refuses to quit.
Quite a few acid and burn survivors work as domestic help in Kathmandu as well. But getting those jobs hasn’t been easy either. Rajbhandari recalls an incident when a burn survivor was rejected at three homes. In one, she was hired and fired in a day as the employer said “her granddaughter was scared of their new maid because of the ugly scars”. Working as a domestic help already comes with a fair share of challenges as many of the survivors don’t have full mobility in their limbs. Their scars stretch, itch, and burn, making it difficult for them to cook and clean.
Jenny Khadka, who suffered 20 percent burns on her neck, chest, and arms when her husband threw acid on her after she refused to go back home with him, says she is tired of the government’s empty promises. Promises of justice and jobs for the victims are made when there’s news of an acid or burn violence but it’s conveniently sidelined when the media furor dies down. “The government, so far, hasn’t done much to ease our sufferings. It would be foolish of us to keep hoping,” says Khadka with a shrug and a smile.
Until recently, Khadka was employed at Kumari Bank Limited, at its Bafal branch in Kathmandu. After two extensions of six months each, she is now jobless. The branch manager apparently wants her back but she hasn’t heard from her former employers yet. Employing acid and burn survivors is good for the company’s profile, she says. Once that goal is achieved, survivors are dispensable. “My colleagues were nice to me. But there wasn’t a single client who didn’t ask me what had happened to me,” she says. “She has such a pretty face, too bad about the scars,” was something whispered about her on a regular basis.
Astitwa conducts training and workshops on jewelry-making, pottery and other informal skills. They sell the products made at various school and college fairs and to individual customers through online orders, says Sampada Uprety, program coordinator. The idea is to ensure survivors have some cash coming in as 20 percent of every order goes to the one who works on it. But this, Uprety adds, is by no means a regular thing. Orders are few and far between. It doesn’t fetch a stable income.
Kamal Phuyal, sociologist, talks about the theory of the three Ps—Power, Property, and Prestige—while discussing survivor’s reintegration. These are essentially what every human being strives for, he says. But in the case of most acid and burn victims, there is a lack of all three from the very beginning. “Attaining one of the three Ps will empower them and help them achieve the other two. Organizations working for acid and burn victims and the government must join forces to generate economic opportunities,” says Phuyal.
Phuyal plans to help Astitwa train Khadka to become a counselor. He says she has the potential to do well in the sector because of her own experiences, despite not having studied much. This, he believes, will establish her place in the society. Rajbhandari, on the other hand, adds she sees many changes in survivor’s attitude to life when they can earn. Being financially independent frees them from their abusers too, she says, as having nowhere to go, many victims continue to live with their husbands or in-laws.
“Money plays an important role in reestablishing their self-worth. But when jobs are difficult to come by, when they are looked at and rejected, it has a deep psychological impact that is worse than the trauma they went through when they were burnt,” says Rajbhandari. Mahat dreams of survivors like her coming together and starting something of their own—similar to the Sheroes Hangout—to create jobs for themselves. But then she isn’t hopeful it would work in Nepal. “The fact is people are still largely disgusted by us,” she says.
Nepal’s drinking problem
The Indian state of Bihar banned the sales and consumption of alcohol in 2016. The ban was championed by local women to tackle issues of alcoholism and domestic violence. The punishments of being caught with alcohol were severe. Fines were high and you were also looking at a month in jail. Repeat offense meant a year behind bars. Nepal, which shares a 729-km border with Bihar, rushed to its help. On the Nepali side of the border, bars and restaurants sprung up where thirsty Indians could get their daily dose of alcohol. According to a report in The New York Times, men from all walks of life crossed the border to drink as much as they could before 9pm, which was when the police blew their shrill whistles and the shops had to close. “Alcohol is available everywhere in Nepal. From little corner shops to dazzling liquor stores, there are plenty of options to suit all kinds of wants and wallets,” says Sanjeev Kumar Shah, program coordinator at Sober Recovery and Rehabilitation Center (SRRC). In our society, any celebration calls for a drink or two. A hard day at work means indulging in some good Scotch (or local hooch) that night. If you are happy, you drink. If there is a problem you can’t handle, you drink. If you don’t drink at a party, you become an outlier. Everybody will ask you why you aren’t drinking and try to convince you to at least down a shot. According to Tsering Wangdu, founder of SRRC, alcohol is socially and culturally accepted and that in itself poses a problem in regulating its sales and consumption. In the Kirati and Gurung cultures, alcohol is sent to the bride’s family during marriage. The Tamang community has a ritual of offering alcohol to the deceased. Sherpas give it to new mothers and drink it to seal business deals. Likewise, the Newars brew alcohol on many important occasions. “Alcohol is addictive and drinking it under different pretexts will lead to addiction,” says Wangdu. Nepal has rules in place to regulate alcohol sales. Alcohol cannot be sold to those under 18. Liquor stores need licenses to operate, and there are restrictions in advertisements as well. Sales of homemade liquors like aila and chhyang is illegal. There is also a cap on how much of it can be produced a year. But the rules aren’t being followed. There’s an urgent need to make proper provisions regarding the manufacture and sales of alcohol in Nepal, says Tek Prasad Rai, spokesperson of the Nepal Police. Alcohol, he says, is a major cause of domestic and sexual violence, accidents, and many other crimes. Rai says there are many alcohol-related altercations and mishaps on a daily basis. They usually result in grave injuries and even deaths. As many cultures consider alcohol auspicious, it’s difficult for the police to even enforce the rules that are already in place, laments Rai. There have been instances when the police have tried to control the consumption of liquor in certain places. Their efforts have only led to furor among various communities that claimed the police tried to mock and reject traditional practices. According to a study, mortality by alcohol in Nepal increased by 376 percent between 1990 and 2016. The study also found that 21 percent males and 1.5 percent females in Nepal were habitual drinkers. A total of 3,972 Nepalis lost their lives in 2016 to liver diseases and cancer among other alcohol-induced ailments. Those working at rehabilitation centers, who have seen the impact alcohol has had on people’s health and relationships, agree the government must intervene and come up with stricter control measures. Some ways to control alcohol consumption could be putting health warnings on alcohol bottles, setting a 21-year age limit for alcohol purchase, regulating the time of alcohol sales, and imposing a ban on all kinds of alcohol ads and promotions. More importantly, there has to be a strict monitoring of alcohol sales to ensure adherence to rules. Shishir Thapa, founder of Cripa Nepal, says alcoholism is an escalating problem in the country. Despite their efforts, many of their patients relapse once they are out of the facility. Thapa says he has seen all kinds of people, from all sorts of backgrounds—from daily wage earners to reputed doctors—risk financial ruin or be estranged from their families because of their addiction. He adds that men are more likely to be alcoholics than women because of our patriarchal beliefs that allow men to do as they please. “Alcoholics are self-centered and incapable of rational thinking and empathy. They are unable to lead regular, normal lives,” says Thapa who believes alcoholism will hinder the nation’s growth besides driving many families into despair. Nepalis, Thapa adds, are at a high risk of alcohol abuse as it’s available everywhere and anyone can access it. There is also no oversight on who is selling alcohol and who is buying it. Many elderlies start drinking at the break of dawn. Their morning walks are quite literally powered by Johnny Walker or cheaper, local versions of the same. Chowks and parks not only sell tea but ‘raksi’ too, camouflaged as cold drinks in pet bottles. The government chooses to remain oblivious because of cultural associations of alcohol as well as the fact that regulating liquor will cut down on revenues. Should Nepal follow its neighbors’ footsteps and ban alcohol, like the governments in Gujarat, Bihar, Manipur, and Nagaland? Nischala Arjal, assistant professor at Kathmandu School of Law, says complete restrictions never yield the desired results. What’s important to regulate is how, when, and where alcohol is sold. That will stop regular drinkers from becoming habitual ones, she says. Thapa adds there needs to be wider awareness on the harmful effects of drinking. Wangdu agrees and says we can no longer afford to normalize the act of drinking. “The government shouldn’t turn a blind eye to this problem as the costs of alcohol dependance are just too high,” he says.







