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A winding, snake-like road flanked by picturesque hills on one side and the flowing Sunkoshi and Roshi rivers on the other—this is the BP Highway. Yet, its charm has been overshadowed by its current unbearable condition.

Traveling on the BP Highway has become a nerve-wracking experience. The hour-long traffic jams and relentless dust often make me want to abandon the journey halfway. Even after reaching my destination, the memory of the harrowing trip leaves me feeling feverish.

The severe floods of the Roshi River from Sept 26-28 wreaked havoc on the highway, washing away and damaging significant portions. Reports indicate that 12 kilometers of the road were destroyed, resulting in a loss of Rs 7bn. The destruction has made travel between Kathmandu and Bardibas exceedingly difficult.

Floods and landslides have claimed large sections of the highway, leaving some areas washed away by the Roshi River and others buried under debris. The dust clouds that now envelop the road add another layer of misery. Travelers are left uncertain, fearing landslides that could crush vehicles or slippery conditions that could send them plunging into the river below.

Drivers start their vehicles with prayers, while passengers brace themselves for the perilous journey ahead. Traveling on this highway feels like navigating an ambush, with every twist and turn posing a new danger.

These conditions have turned the once-iconic BP Highway into a treacherous and exhausting route, leaving travelers with tales of suffering and anxiety at every turn.

Chhath is more than just a festival—it is a symbol of faith, unity and cultural harmony. 

Traditionally observed in Nepal’s Tarai-Madhes region, this ancient Hindu festival has transcended geographical boundaries to reach the hills, mountains and even distant lands where Nepalis reside. As the celebration of Chhath spreads, so does the respect for the Earth and the interconnectedness of all living beings. 

During Chhath, water bodies like ponds, riversides and wells are beautifully decorated. The celebration extends over four days, beginning with a ceremonial bath and fasting. Devotees perform different rituals, including Kharna (preparing a pure meal), offering Arghya  (devotional offerings) to the setting sun, and finally to the rising sun at the end of the festival. 

Former President Dr Ram Baran Yadav says Chhath unites the Nepali people and promotes national pride. “Festivals are our cultural heritage; they sing the glory of our country,” he added.

Honoring culture and tradition

Chhath holds a cherished place in Nepal’s cultural heritage. It is celebrated with strict rituals with participants keeping a rigorous 36-hour without even drinking water.

Cultural scholar Dhirendra Premarshi, who is also a member of National Academy, sees Chhath as a powerful reflection of the Nepali way of life. “Culture is the human life path—how we eat, what we wear, everything we embody. Chhath reflects this well, with its deep connection to agriculture and community life,” he added. 

According to Premarshi, Chhath embodies the values of farming, social conduct and ancient civilization.

Another cultural expert Dr Bir Bahadur Mahato explains how the traditional songs of Chhath captivates people. “These songs energize people, binding them together in faith and harmony,” he said. 

Pilgrims carry ritual items, line up along riverbanks, and offer prayers to the setting and rising sun, singing praises to goddess Chhathi Maiya.

Revering nature

Chhath is a bridge between humans and nature. The festival emphasizes environmental harmony and conservation, particularly in times of rising climate concerns. The melting of glaciers, rising sea levels, and soaring temperatures signal the urgent need for environmental action - a message that Chhath conveys. 

Chure specialist Dr Vijay Kumar Singh stresses that Chhath also involves a commitment to protecting Nepal’s natural resources. “The Chure hills supply the water for the fertile plains of the Tarai. Chhath embodies the principle of conserving this resource and worshiping our environment,” he added. 

The destruction of Chure has caused water sources in the Madhesh region to dry up. "Agricultural fields are becoming barren. The exploitation of Chure has begun to threaten the existence of Chhath Puja. People stand in water bodies to offer arghya (water offering) to the Sun. However, water bodies like ponds and rivers have started drying up," he added.

Agricultural scientist Dr Ujjwal Kushwaha believes that Chhath offers an opportunity to reconnect with nature. “Chhath allows people to step back from the rush of modern life and appreciate the wonders of nature,” he added. 

The United Nations Sustainable Development Goals promote similar ideas of preserving clean air, water and soil for future generations. Dr Kushwaha pointed out that our ancestors recognized this wisdom centuries ago. “Our forefathers began celebrating Chhath to ensure a long and sustainable life by preserving the environment.”

A celebration of agriculture

Chhath respects the hard work of farmers and honors agricultural produce by using it as sacred offerings. Basudev Mahato, who has been campaigning for preservation of ancient temples and festivals, explained that around 72 varieties of crops are typically offered during Chhath. “The festival gives visibility to our agricultural diversity, connecting us back to our roots,” he added. 

Days before Chhath, markets fill with wheat, rice, sugar, coconuts and items made from bamboo. “Local farm produce is offered to the goddess which is later distributed as prasad,” he added.

Dr Kushwaha said that Chhath, in part, honors the sun’s vital role in sustaining life, adding that photosynthesis, powered by sunlight, is fundamental to crop growth. “Chhath is not only a tribute to nature; it’s a celebration of the strength that sustains us all,” he added. 

Chhath promotes environmentally friendly traditions, a welcome change from modern consumerism. “Celebrating Chhath in the autumn, as we bid farewell to the heat and welcome the crispness of winter, is refreshing,” says Dipak Karki, a member of Nepal Heart Foundation.

Building social unity

Chhath is celebrated by a diverse range of people thereby bridging gaps of caste, language and culture. According to Premarshi, Chhath has spread beyond its Hindu roots. "It is now embraced by many, including some Muslims,” he added. 

Madhes Province Assembly Member Sarada Devi Thapa says Chhath is a rare opportunity for community bonding. “When people of different castes come together for Chhath, it disseminates a message of peace and unity,” she added.

Shankar Mahato, advisor to the Tarai-Madhes Cultural Research Institute, believes that Chhath turns societal diversity into a source of strength. “Chhath brings everyone to the banks of the water bodies  where prayers are offered. It reminds us that we are united as Nepalis,” Mahato said. “Here, the boundaries between ethnicities blur as everyone joins in the shared rituals, carrying a collective spirit of devotion.”

A festival of non-violence

Chhath embodies the principles of non-violence and purity as it avoids practices like animal sacrifice. Professor  Santa Satyanarayan Alok says that Chhath promotes vegetarianism and the value of non-violence. “During Chhath, people avoid foods like onions, garlic, meat, or fish,” he says. “In keeping with this spirit, offerings are strictly vegetarian, and devotees strive for both physical and mental purity,” he added.

The main offering of Chhath is Thekuwa—a sweet made from wheat flour, sugar and ghee, often accompanied by bananas. The thekuwa’s high energy content is said to fortify the body against winter’s chill. 

According to Professor Alok, Chhath has resisted the consumerist trends seen in other festivals, retaining its simplicity and traditional practices. “The festival involves the whole family, from preparing food to distributing offerings, creating a harmonious atmosphere,” he added.

Breaking barriers of social discrimination

Chhath celebration transcends caste boundaries, making it one of Nepal’s most inclusive festivals. Caste distinctions, still prevalent in parts of society, fade away as all devotees come together to pray and celebrate.

Manjay Sada, a teacher at Bardibas Secondary School, observes how Chhath unifies people who otherwise face discrimination. “People of every caste stand side by side on the banks of water bodies for Chhath celebration. It is a profound message against social division,” he added.

During Chhath, even the most privileged classes set aside caste prejudices, accepting offerings from individuals of all backgrounds. “People who usually avoid lower castes stand beside them at the Chhath ceremony, all sharing the same space and offering the same prayers. This gives me hope that unity is possible,” he added.

Unique festival of honoring setting sun

The Sun is considered a source of power that destroys illness and suffering. The rising sun is worshiped daily in Hindu households. However, Chhath has a unique tradition of worshiping the setting sun as well.

Gopal Prasad Baral, the president of the Bardibas Town Journalists Network, says they offer Arghya to the setting sun to create a feeling that we should worship the power we have consumed. “The core message is about accepting the fading existence and embracing the beginning of a new dawn,” he added.

​​​​​​​According to Professor Alok, water and sun are opposite elements. During Chhath, both these elements are given equal importance. “Chhath marks the beginning of the winter season when people depend on the sun's warmth. This explains why the Sun god is worshiped,” he added.

Sub-engineer Manoj Kumar Mahato from Mithila Municipality said devotees observe Chhath by fasting without water for 36 hours. “Chhath and Jitiya are considered very rigorous festivals of faith,” he added.

It has been almost two months since Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal came to power. Soon after assuming office, Dahal issued a long list of directives to make services in government offices smooth and hassle-free for citizens. But there have hardly been any changes. People are still facing delays and difficulties in accessing government services. This is nowhere more evident than at the Department of Passport, one of the most busiest government agencies where hundreds of service seekers visit everyday to obtain passports. Lack of job opportunities at home is forcing many youths to go abroad for jobs, but getting a passport—the first step of foreign job application process—is riddled with delays and rigmarole, making their predicament more acute. Ask any service seeker visiting the Department of Passport, and they will tell you how the state that cannot provide them decent jobs at home is equally unable to issue them passports in a swift, hassle-free manner. Many of these service seekers are from outside Kathmandu and have taken loans to apply for overseas jobs. They are facing additional financial burden when they have to spend several days or weeks in Kathmandu to get their passports. It took Chandra Bahadur Bohora of Bajhang 20 days to get a passport. In this period, his expenses, including food and accommodation, were over Rs 50,000. "I came to Kathmandu because I was told that I could get my passport within a matter of days. But I had to go through so much trouble," said Bohora. "I don't know why the government is not doing anything about this." There are hundreds of people like Bohora who are putting up with the hardship of waiting in long lines and being fleeced by middlemen at the department on a daily basis. This is despite the introduction of the e-passport system in which applicants were supposed to receive their passports within three days of providing their biometric details. As service delays continue to mar the department, many applicants from outside Kathmandu are forced to spend a lot of money for their passports. Kapil Bishwakarma, who hails from Jhapa, came to Kathmandu to renew his passport because his online application was rejected four times. "I got my passport in the fifth attempt. Earlier, my application was rejected because apparently the biometrics details and photos of my old passport were not good,” he said. Bishwakarma’s expenses during his stay in Kathmandu were five times more than the fee charged by the government for the passport. He had no idea about the application process when he came to Kathmandu to renew his passport. “I was told it would take at least a month to renew my passport in Jhapa. Somebody told me, it could be done within 24 hours in Kathmandu. That is why I came here,” he said. “Why should we suffer for the shortcomings of the department?” Rajkumar Chaulagain of Okhaldhunga felt like he had won a war when he finally received his passport. "I had to spend Rs 40,000 to get the passport," he said. Like Bohora and Bishwakarma, he too had come to Kathmandu for urgent passport service. The involvement of middlemen makes it even more challenging for ordinary citizens to obtain passports. Ishan Khadka of Dolakha said some middlemen are charging up to Rs 10,000 from innocent service seekers just for online forms that are available for Rs 250. “There is no one to stop them. It's sad to see Nepalis exploiting fellow Nepalis," he said. "The government's system is only benefiting the middlemen. Those having connections with leaders and senior officers can complete the process in less than an hour. There is no assistance available for commoners like us." There is a daily demand for more than 10,000 units of passports across the country. However, the department is printing only around 6,000 units a day. There is also issue with the server not being able to handle large volume of applications. An official at the department said the server is designed to handle a maximum of 2,500 users per second. “When the number of users exceeds its limit, the server crashes causing delay in service delivery,” he said, adding that they were planning to increase the server’s capacity.

Illegal extraction of construction aggregate and deforestation in the Chure region has long been a cause for concern that has never quite been addressed.

The Chure hill range is spread across 37 Tarai districts, and over the years, its resources have been exploited to the point people living on its foothills are facing environmental consequences.

“There was a time when Chure was a blessing for the Tarai. It used to be an important source of freshwater for civilizations below,” Bijaya Kumar Singh, a Chure expert says. “Now landslide and drought have become common occurrences in the region.”

According to the 1986 report of the Land Resource Mapping Project, the Chure region consisted of 1.45m hectares of forest cover. The Chure forest size has shrunk rapidly since then. The Forest Resource Survey report of 2010 put the Chure’s forest size at 1.37m hectares.

Conservationists and experts say the forest cover of Chure has reduced exponentially in the past 12 years, as its resources are getting exploited at the behest of powerful political leaders.

 They add the authorities are turning a blind eye on illegal crusher plants that occupy the rivers and streams that flow from the Chure.

Crusher operators and timber traders resort to threat and violence if they are met with opposition.  

On 10 Jan 2020, Chure activist Dilip Mahato was murdered by the thugs paid by a crusher operator in Dhanusha district. Chure conservation campaigns have gained many supporters in recent years, but such campaigns are largely citizen-led, hence powerless. 

“Crusher operators are above the law because they work hand in glove with local politicians,” says Som Prasad Sharma, Madhes province chair of the Federation of Community Forestry Users’ Nepal. “For them, Chure is a gold mine and they have no qualms about using violence or bribes to continue their illegal business.”

Their actions have led the water sources to dwindle in many Tarai districts during the dry season.

“Chure deforestation has dried up the water sources, which becomes evident during winter,” says Nagadev Yadav, a Chure conservationist. 

“It is opposite during the monsoon. There are floods and landslides due to over-mining of riverbed close to human settlements.”

According to a Home Ministry’s report, 156 people lost their lives and 30 others remain unaccounted for in the Madhes province in flood-related incidents. 

Experts say stopping mining and logging activities in the Chure region alone will solve half of the problem. The rest, they say, can be taken care of through afforestation and other rejuvenation campaigns.

“There should be a sustainable symbiotic relationship between the Chure range and the communities living on its foothills. This is the only way to restore balance,” says Girirajmani Pokharel, a former education minister, who is currently leading a green campaign in Madhes.

Ramashish Yadav, environmental campaigner and assembly member of Madhes Province, says people should understand that Chure is the lifeline of Madhes.

 “It is upon us all to conserve Chure,” he says. “We cannot survive without Chure.”

Out of 6,743 seats allocated for Dalit women in the upcoming local-level elections, candidacy was filed for only 6,573 seats.

Surya Prasad Aryal, joint spokesperson at the Election Commission says, 170 seats are vacant.

Seats for local representatives going unclaimed is strange considering the constant tussle to secure an election ticket for even the post of a local unit ward member. In some places there were even reports of aspiring political party candidates paying hefty sums for such candidacy.

Shashikala Dahal, former vice-chairperson of the National Assembly, suspects the 170 Dalit women seats were not claimed because some local level wards didn’t have Dalits in their midst.

“Perhaps it was also due to the fact that a large number of Dalit people don’t know that they can file their candidacy,” she adds.

A similar incident had occurred during the 2017 elections when 173 ward-member seats for Dalit women got no claimants.

Writer Ramrijhan Yadav says women generally have little space in Nepali politics.

“One can only imagine the state of Dalit women, the majority of whom are illiterate and don’t know about their rights,” he says.

He adds that the onus lies on the political parties to raise awareness among their Dalit supporters and also pick the candidates.

“Political parties head to villages in search of Dalit representatives only on the day the Election Commission calls for the list of candidates,” he adds.

Santa Pariyar, a Dalit rights activist, says the country’s constitution has guaranteed the rights and representation of the Dalits, but most of them don’t know about this.  

“They toil all day just to get by. It is the political parties that should be organizing the disadvantaged Dalit people and making them aware of their constitutional rights,” he says.

Madhes-based political analyst Chandra Kishore says many Dalit women have been disenfranchised as they still don’t have citizenship.

“How can you vote, let alone contest an election, when you don’t even have citizenship documents? The political parties created reservation seats for Dalit women, but they never bothered to educate them on their political rights,” he says.

Three years ago, 63-year-old Julama Mushahar agreed to dismantle his straw hut in Bhangaha Municipality-3 of Mahottari as he was promised a new concrete house under the government’s Janata Awas (‘people’s housing’) program. He had little idea that he was going to be homeless in the hope of a better house as the government money was enough for only some foundational work on the new house.
With no money left to complete the house by himself, and no hut to go back to, he was left out on the fields. He spent cruel winter nights either under open skies or under a threadbare tarpaulin tent. Battered by rains, he succumbed to the sickness that followed and breathed his last in August last year. He never saw a hospital in life.
This scribe had met Julama in late December last year. He was shivering with cold and crying. “The government told me to pull down my hut. Now I don’t have money to build a new house,” he had said. “It’s too cold here and I can’t sleep. I stay up the whole night in front of fire.”
Julama’s wife Munesari told this scribe recently, “The government is a savior for the poor. But this savior is making us suffer more than a
tormentor.”
Musahar’s was one of the 63 families in Bhangaha who were told by government officials that they would get new concrete houses under the Janata Awas program. But there is no sign that the promise will be fulfilled. The families are left stranded on the fields or streets waiting for the promised houses.
Locals say the program has made thousands of Musahar and Dome people homeless in the eight districts in the province: Mahottari, Dhanusha, Siraha, Saptari, Sarlahi, Rautahat, Bara, and Parsa. The elders suffer from common cold, cough, cold-diarrhea, and pneumonia—the diseases either caused or aggravated by cold.
Kamodhiya Sada, also from Bhangaha, is worried for her newborn granddaughter Sandhya. She is trying to save the child from winter cold-wave by putting her under a makeshift hut roofed with straw. The child has common cold, and Kamodiya can only hope warmer days come soon. Hope of a new house seems so distant
for her.
Likewise, 70-year-old Rajiya Sada has also lost hope she will get a new house. “We used to live in a hut, and that was okay. At least it gave us a shelter,” laments Rajiya. “The govnerment has left us in the lurch by destroying our huts.” The eight members of her family have no roof over their heads.
Locals blame the indifferent attitude of the federal and provincial governments for the torment of these destitute families.
In 2015/16, urban development and building construction division offices based in Rajbiraj, Janakpur, and Parsa had signed contracts
with 522 beneficiary families to build houses. They are yet to be completed. In fiscal years 2016/17 and 2017/18, construction for 8,200 houses began in Province 2 under this scheme. Work on 75 percent of those houses was abandoned in the middle. In some places only the foundation has been built, while elsewhere just the walls have been
put up.
Binod Yadav, acting chief of the Urban Development and Building Construction Division Office based in Janakpur, says it is due to the ‘middlemen’ that the houses could not be completed.
“The government gives Rs 350,000 to these beneficiaries, that too, in installments. It takes at least Rs 500,000 to build the two-room house under approved design,” Yadav says. “They have to find the deficit money on their own. But the poor don’t have that money.”
“On top of that, some middlemen take away a cut from their instalment money,” Yadav adds O

It’s been almost two weeks since a windstorm wrecked havoc in Bara and Parsa, two districts in the central plains. House roofs blew away; crops were destroyed. Around 30 people lost their lives, and at least 1,000 people were rendered homeless. The poor endured the brunt of the disaster.

The victims suffered throughout the night of March 31. When they saw a helicopter in the sky, a ray of hope emerged. But the chopper car­rying Prime Minister KP Oli did not land. Oli was there just for an aerial inspection. Unlike the chopper, aid did not arrive swiftly. Only on the fifth day were security personnel seen carrying out rescue opera­tions in Bharwalia, one of the most affected places in Bara. In one small settlement there, seven people had lost their lives, dozens were injured, and yet no help was forthcoming for four days.

When help finally arrived, well-dressed aid workers were found tak­ing selfies—even when victims were still crying next to their loved ones who lay dead. There was no one in the village to carry away the dead bodies. Now there is a steady stream of vehicles, big and small, ferrying in plenty of relief materials. Still, many victims are yet to get any help. There is a clear lack of coordination among government bodies.

“Aid has been politicized. Those with the right connections got relief materials from multiple agencies and hid them. But many real vic­tims did not get anything,” laments Arjun Patel, a local of Bharwalia. Another local, Sunita Yadav, says, “It’s been many days since the disas­ter struck, but real victims are still without decent shelter. Despite a steady stream of relief materials, it’s sad that most victims are still having to spend the night amid the ruins of their houses.”

Every year, the country is hit by one natural calamity or another. In the immediate aftermath, there is plenty of talk about disaster pre­paredness. But the talk soon fizzles out. The same pattern repeats when the next disaster strikes.

The provincial government announced Rs 300,000 aid package for each family that lost a member

Everyone should do their bit in a time of crisis. But what we saw in Bara and Parsa was a political tug-of-war. “We did our level best. Several officials from Kathmandu flew in for a while but did not coordinate with us. Provincial officials showed a bit more concern,” says Amiri Lal Prasad, chairperson of Feta rural municipality in Bara. “We are sad with the federal government’s delay in timely rescue and relief. But we are also pleased that Nepal Army has been entrusted with rebuilding houses for the victims.”

But Chandra Kishore, a journalist who follows Madhesi politics, is not happy about army deployment for construction. “Isn’t this a purely civilian task?” he asks.

“We have three tiers of elected government now. But the federal and provincial governments failed to coordinate well with the local bodies in carrying our rescue, relief and rehabilitation operations,” he says. Chandra Kishore added that the provincial government was too focused on distribution and the fed­eral government couldn’t resist the temptation to score political points. “The federal government should have declared a disaster zone and set up an office in Kalaiya [in Bara] headed by a federal minister. That would have helped get timely food and medicine to survivors.”

The provincial government announced Rs 300,000 aid package for each family that lost a member. Other political leaders announced financial help of their own, even as it remains unclear how this aid will be channeled to victims. The provincial government said it was disappointed the federal gov­ernment did not declare a day of national mourning.