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I built my first science project with nothing but YouTube and frustration. In a world driven by science and technology, my school didn’t even mention robotics. During my time at school, I spent more than 15 hours a day sitting in classrooms, being taught the best strategies—how to memorize answers, how to present them in exams, and ultimately how to secure a flawless GPA. At the very end, we were even taught how to cheat in exams—not directly, but cleverly enough to boast a 100 percent pass rate at school. But behind those glowing numbers was a harsh reality: over 90 percent of the students lost all interest in science. 

My friends even told me the SEE would be the last time they would ever engage in the scientific field—not because of different interests, but because of frustration. We lacked practical education, we lacked skill-based learning, we lacked research exposure—and most of all, we lacked proper guidance. This isn’t the story of my school—it’s the story of most educational institutions across Nepal. In fact, it reflects a deep flaw in the entire education system.

Looking back, I often wonder how things could have been if we had been introduced to robotics early on—a subject that teaches not just science, but also creativity, teamwork, and real-world problem-solving. Robotics is a branch of engineering and computer science that involves designing and building machines that can sense, move, and respond using sensors and programming. These systems interact with the real world and provide hands-on experience in innovation and critical thinking from a young age. “Even a simple robot that avoids obstacles or follows a line can spark a light of wonder in a child”.

While robotics may sound technical or expensive, the truth is it doesn’t require a rocket scientist or a massive budget. With affordable kits and open-source platforms now available, it has become one of the most effective and accessible ways to improve practical education and expose students to global tech trends. Yet when we mention robotics to teachers and parents, it is often seen as a luxury. “Seeing robotics as a luxury today will cost our future innovators tomorrow.”

The global job market is rapidly shifting towards Artificial Intelligence and Automation. In this new era, basic knowledge in computer programming and AI is crucial—no matter what field you’re from or what field you want to pursue. While coding was once reserved for higher education, it’s increasingly being introduced in K–12 classrooms, even for children under the age of eight—especially in tech-innovator countries like the United States, China, Japan, Russia, Singapore, South Korea, and Finland, where kindergarten coding is becoming common. “Nepal is failing to prepare its youth for the future by ignoring robotics education in early classrooms”.

The earlier children are introduced to robotics, the more naturally they develop critical thinking, creativity, and problem-solving skills. At a young age, the brain is wired to absorb complex ideas through play and experimentation—making grades 5 to 8 the perfect window to explore technology hands-on.Studies by Bers (2010), Eguchi (2014), and the OECD reveal that early robotics education enhances computational thinking, problem-solving skills, creativity, and iterative testing. Most importantly, it boosts confidence and interest in STEM, while also building strong teamwork and communication skills, making STEM education inclusive for children from diverse backgrounds

Many students in Nepal lose interest in science due to rote-based learning rather than experiential learning or problem-solving. Robotics introduces practical, hands-on learning that can reignite curiosity. It turns our passive education into active learning and helps align our classrooms with global trends and innovation.

In many European countries, coding is often seen as a path to future careers—a tool for building resilience, confidence, motivation, and a strong leadership mindset. It sharpens problem analysis, logical thinking, and analytical reasoning in young learners. If our youth are not equipped with these skills early on, they may face unemployment and irrelevance in tomorrow’s digital economy. “Using this, they may be able to create their own projects to demonstrate in science exhibitions, rather than copying ideas from YouTube and Internet.”

 Introducing robotics in Nepal comes with critical challenges. First, the most significant—lack of awareness. Many people, including high-ranking officials and school administrators, still view robotics as a luxury and irrelevant to traditional careers. Second, there is a severe lack of infrastructure—many public and even private schools continue to struggle with basic facilities like science labs, digital instruments (projectors, TVs), electricity, and internet access. 

As of 2021, fewer than 20 percent of government schools in Nepal had internet access, and only 12 percent had both computers and connectivity. Third, teachers are rarely trained in programming, digital tools, robotics, or AI. So even if kits are available, there’s often no one qualified to guide students. Lastly, the national curriculum is rigid and slow to adapt, with no structured policy to introduce robotics in primary or middle school.

That being said, overcoming these challenges requires a multi-faceted approach. First, the government should invest in STEM education by establishing robotics labs in schools and colleges, while also empowering research and innovation. Public–private partnerships with organizations actively contributing to this field—such as Engineers Vlogs, Robotech Nepal, and the Robotics Association of Nepal—can reduce costs and support curriculum development. With proper planning and execution, mobile robotics labs (vans) can be deployed to rural areas where resources are limited. Ultimately, the most powerful and effective solution lies in raising awareness and empowering both educators and institutions to embrace this transformation.

From this, I conclude: without the urgent integration of robotics education into the national curriculum, Nepal risks leaving its youth behind in a technology-driven world. By investing in teacher training, affordable kits, and curriculum updates today, “we can empower curious minds to become bold innovators—and lead the future of Nepal”.

Siddhant Pokhrel

St Xavier’s College

What happens when governments are no longer held accountable? That question, in my view, cuts straight to the heart of nearly every crisis we see around the world today—whether it’s corruption, social injustice, or growing inequality. And while some may see accountability as just a technical concept or a legal matter, I believe it’s something far more fundamental: it’s about trust, responsibility, and the kind of future we want to build.

I’ve often thought about what it truly means to live under a government that is answerable to its people. It’s easy to take the idea for granted especially in countries that hold regular elections or where democratic institutions still exist on paper. But real accountability isn’t about just holding an election every few years. It’s about what happens in between those elections. It’s about whether public officials serve the people or simply serve themselves.

The cost of no accountability

When those in power are not questioned, challenged, or monitored, they begin to drift away from the interests of the public. In many places, this has led to blatant corruption. Public money meant for essential services like education, healthcare, or clean water vanishes into private bank accounts. Mega-projects are announced with fanfare, only to be left half-finished while communities continue to suffer.

I’ve personally seen this: roads that are “renovated” every election cycle but never actually improved, schools that lack basic supplies while the education budget is reported as fully spent, and public offices that operate more like private clubs. These things don't just happen by accident. They happen when no one is held responsible.

It’s not just about money—it’s about life. When governments ignore accountability, it’s often the most vulnerable who pay the highest price. Poor governance during natural disasters, pandemics, or economic downturns leaves millions without support. And when people protest or speak out, they are often met with violence, censorship, or imprisonment.

The slow death of democracy

One of the most dangerous outcomes of a government without accountability is the slow erosion of democracy. When politicians are not held to the promises they make, and when institutions like the courts or the press are silenced or co-opted, citizens begin to feel powerless. And when people lose faith in the system, democracy weakens from the inside.

Democracy is not a self-sustaining machine. It requires constant maintenance and accountability is the oil that keeps its gears running smoothly. Without it, we don’t just risk mismanagement. We risk authoritarianism.

Why we must care

Some may say, “Well, what can one person do?” Honestly, I’ve asked myself the same thing. In the face of systemic corruption or abuse, individual actions can feel small. But I believe change begins when people start asking questions. When we demand transparency, when we support investigative journalism, when we vote wisely and stay informed, we contribute to a culture of accountability.

We also need to remember that governments work for us. That means they should fear betraying the public trust, not the other way around.

Accountability isn’t just about punishing bad behavior, it’s also about encouraging good governance. When leaders know they are being watched and evaluated, they are more likely to act in the public’s best interest. They become more transparent, more honest, and more focused on long-term progress rather than short-term gain.

A vision for the future

Imagine a society where government budgets are published in full and explained clearly. A society where journalists are protected, public meetings are open and well-attended, and whistleblowers are praised. That’s what accountability looks like. Of course, no government will ever be perfect. Mistakes will happen. But the difference between a responsible government and a reckless one lies in whether it owns up to those mistakes or buries them. Accountability is what makes the difference between a system that learns and improves, and one that decays in silence.

To some, this might all sound idealistic, but I don’t think so. Demanding accountability is simply part of being an engaged, responsible citizen. If we don’t speak up, if we don’t question those in power, we end up becoming complicit in our own decline. Governments without accountability don’t just fail, they fail us. And that’s why it matters. Because when leaders stop answering to the people, the people end up paying the price. It’s time we stop accepting silence and start demanding answers.

Amisha Baniya

Kathmandu School of Law

As a writer, I will continue to write as long as the fight concerns the public and the country. I often wondered what if one day every social media app and site were to shut down? This was just me being curious, not knowing the larger consequences. Today, however, such contemplation feels urgent.

As I write this, my eyes shift between the desktop and the window, reflecting on the weight of the present ban imposed by the government on 26 social media apps, including WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram,YouTube, X (formerly Twitter), and LinkedIn.

The official reason: these apps failed to register as per the Social Media Bill tabled this year. The law mandates that social media platforms register themselves with the government, designate a contact person, and appoint a grievance officer to handle complaints. It also allows the government to deny or revoke operation if a platform is considered a threat to national sovereignty, national interest, and social harmony. Additionally, the Supreme Court has ordered both domestic and foreign social media platforms to be listed with the government to allow monitoring of “unwanted” content. 

This isn’t the first instance that Nepal has imposed such restrictions. In 2023, TikTok was banned, only to be lifted after its registration issue was resolved.

For years, Nepal had been showing improvement in the global index of freedom of speech and e-governance. But with bans on social media platforms, the country could slide down the index, tarnishing our reputation in the international arena. 

We are well aware of how social media has deeply shaped our lives. From connecting people across distances to educating minds, creating opportunities for employment, and even serving as a source of income—it has, in many ways, become another world we inhabit.

As a graduate of media studies and a current student of international relations, I understand the government’s concerns. Sure, sovereignty cannot be compromised. Yet, I also question whether such a sweeping ban is the right decision. There should be a logical and a diplomatic route to approach things that are of public concern.

Now, with the ban curtailing the very basics of our fundamental rights—the right to freedom of expression (17), in this case the freedom to choose a medium, to express, and to be seen; the right to communication (19), the freedom to speak out; and the right to information (27), the freedom to access public knowledge—I am left to wonder about the right to social justice (42), which demands ‘inclusive participation and equitable opportunities’. 

Our constitution clearly states the sovereignty and state authority of Nepal shall be vested in the Nepalis. So, without the people’s fundamental rights, sovereignty itself loses meaning. So the real question remains: is the latest ban on social media really about safeguarding sovereignty or is it a form of media censorship. 

As Nepal is set to graduate from least developed country (LDC) status in 2026, the stakes are even higher. Restrictive policies could undermine Nepal’s credibility, discouraging potential investors, international partners, and stakeholders. 

What we need is foresight and transparency in our laws and policies. As a citizen, we all must speak truth to power.

Gen Z, the so-called 'digital natives’, live with phones in their hands and Wi-Fi at their finger tips. Phones are sold as empowerment devices—on tap information, entertainment, and worldwide connectivity. Yet, there is a tougher reality beneath the shiny screen.

A Dec 2024 dcdx report indicates GenZ spends an average of 7 hours, 22 minutes, and 43 seconds per day on phones, typically at the expense of in-person interactions. As proponents argue phones make life more convenient and connected, mounting evidence demonstrates they're quietly eroding GenZ’s focus, relationships, and wellbeing.

Thesis: As mobile phones keep us more connected than ever before, they may also erode GenZ’s focus, relationships, and wellbeing, thereby creating a generation trapped in a cycle of distraction, loneliness, and worry fueled by ubiquitous digital overstimulation.

Phones destroy attention and productivity

Supporters argue smartphones increase efficiency by placing information at GenZ’s fingertips. But the truth is quite the opposite. The dcdx study (2024) reported that GenZ spends more than 7 hours a day on phones, with TikTok (3 hours, 38 minutes per week) and Instagram (3 hours, 56 minutes) taking the lead. Such sites are designed to capture attention with infinite scrolls and dopamine bursts.

A 2023 University of Michigan study attested excessive mobile use is associated with weaker working memory and sustained attention, especially among teens (Wilmer et al., 2023). Instead of enhancing productivity, phones fragment attention, with GenZ opening a device an average of 154 times per day (dcdx, 2024), rendering deep work all but impossible.

Phones disrupt real social skills

They call fans ‘connected’ thanks to phones, but the connections are shallowly measured in likes, emojis, or short texts. The 2024 Pew Research Center survey indicates that 46 percent of teens are online ‘almost constantly’, with 58 percent on TikTok at social gatherings often ‘phubbing’ (ignoring people for phones). While 80 percent indicate that phones help friendships, 42 percent recognize that they disrupt learning social skills like empathy and listening (Pew, 2024). On the other hand, older adults (30+) report less phubbing, and 52 percent of 50+ report that phones ruin group discussions (Pew, 2023). Overusing digital communication renders GenZ less competent in face-to-face communication, a deficiency employers find in younger workers more and more.

Phones ruin mental health

Admirers cite phones’ mental health resources—meditation apps, therapy websites, or peer support. The same phones, though, fuel the crises they purportedly cure. The CDC (2023) approximated that 57 percent of teenage girls and 29 percent of teenage boys experience persistent sadness or hopelessness, and social media is a significant factor. The dcdx report (2024) associates excessive screen time with loneliness since 73 percent of GenZ feel isolated despite having constant ‘connectivity’. An additional 2024 Harvard Medical School review contributes that night-time screen usage disrupts circadian rhythms and increases risks of depression and anxiety (Harvard Health Publishing, 2024). Phones, which are presented as solutions, are increasingly the cause of problems.

Phones disrupt learning and work

Technology enthusiasts claim that phones prepare GenZ for technology careers. Unrestricted use, however, cancels learning and productivity. In a 2023 meta-analysis by the University of Cambridge, phone bans at school raised test scores by 6–8 percent, especially among lower-performing students (Higgins et al., 2023). Socially, GenZ’s 154 average daily phone pickups (dcdx, 2024) break concentration, with 56 percent of youth admitting phones make them ‘less present’ in the moment (Harmony Healthcare IT, 2025). Despite digital literacy being worth it, constant distraction gnaws away at the discipline needed for professional and academic achievement.

The paradox: Lifeline or trap?

Phones are not inherently evil. They enable GenZ to undertake online learning, launch entrepreneurial ventures, and amplify social causes. To others, they're a lifeline—connecting marginalized voices or providing mental health support. But the warped relationship with devices turns empowerment into entrapment. The Atlantic’s 2024 analysis reveals GenZ spends only 67 minutes per day with friends in person, down from 2 hours prior to the smartphone (Twenge & Haidt, 2024).

Who’s in charge of whom?

The debate is not about phones’ utility—they are sure to be potent. It is about control: GenZ controlling phones or phones controlling GenZ? Unchecked, tools meant to unify and empower will continue to chip away at concentration, resolve, and bonds. GenZ’s revolution won’t be spearheaded by the next app—it’ll be spearheaded by reclaiming their attention through actual action: setting limits on screen time (used by 22 percent of GenZ, as measured by dcdx), having phone-free zones in school or at home (endorsed by 81 percent of teens, as reported by Pew), and prioritizing in-person interaction.

If Gen-Z is to thrive, they will need to learn to log off—not for a finite period, but forever, in a future in which they, rather than their devices, are the masters.