Submit your Article

The prospect of the March 5 elections has slightly improved. The CPN-UML, which had long emphasized parliament restoration over elections, has now registered its party for electoral purposes, sending a positive signal across the political landscape.

At the same time, however, UML has filed a writ at the Supreme Court demanding the restoration of parliament. This move is unusual, as the party itself is petitioning the court. The Supreme Court has already received more than a dozen writs calling for the restoration of parliament.

Yet questions remain about whether UML will fully commit to the elections, as it continues raising concerns about the constitutionality of the government. UML’s decision was influenced by the Nepali Congress’ announcement that it would participate in the polls. Other fringe parties had already begun preparations. At this point, very few parties openly oppose holding elections.

Although the countdown to March 5 has begun, major parties have not clarified their positions on potential electoral alliances. Since 2017, alliances have become the norm in Nepali politics. Madhes-based parties and newer fringe groups are already exploring alliances, but major parties remain conspicuously silent.

Compounding this uncertainty, there have been no recent meetings among major political leaders. The animosity between UML and Nepali Communist Party coordinator Pushpa Kamal Dahal continues. Oli has publicly accused Dahal of engineering the Sept 8–9 protests, while Dahal blames Oli’s governance failures for the unrest.

Meanwhile, the number of political parties preparing to participate in the polls is likely to increase substantially. The GenZ movement has spawned numerous new parties. The number of parties registered at the Election Commission for election purposes has already reached 106, up from 82 in the previous election.

With the EC extending the registration deadline by four days, the count is expected to grow further. As of Nov 27, the total number of registered political parties stands at 137. If more of these parties win seats, the new parliament could become even more fractured, increasing the risk of political instability.

On the logistical front, both the Ministry of Home Affairs and the Election Commission are preparing intensively for the March 5 polls. The National Security Council has recommended mobilizing the Nepal Army for election security, and the government has begun recruiting temporary police. For election logistics, the government is planning vehicle purchases, while India and China have pledged additional support.

New parties formed after the GenZ movement are also exploring alliances aimed at challenging traditional forces. Some are even considering unification. The Rastriya Swatantra Party has already decided to merge with the Bibeksheel Party and is reaching out to other “alternative forces.”

Inside the UML, a new development is unfolding. Senior leader Ishwar Pokhrel has announced he will challenge KP Sharma Oli for the party leadership at the upcoming general convention on Dec 13–14. Although Oli retains strong control within the party, many leaders are pressuring him to step aside. Pokhrel is widely viewed as a proxy for former President Bidya Devi Bhandari. Fearing monopolization of the selection of convention representatives, Bhandari has urged the Oli faction to adopt a balanced approach.

The intra-party conflict in the Nepali Congress is also intensifying. One faction insists on holding a special convention to elect new leadership, while the establishment faction argues that, with elections only 100 days away, such a convention is impossible. There are growing fears of a potential split, though it remains unlikely. General Secretary Gagan Kumar Thapa has publicly declared that the party will not contest the elections under Deuba’s leadership.

Pushpa Kamal Dahal, meanwhile, continues to welcome splinter groups from other parties. On Nov 27, four groups from various parties joined the Nepali Communist Party. As election day nears, politicians from smaller groups are increasingly joining larger parties in search of tickets and better prospects. Dahal is portraying this as “a major unification of the communist forces.”

The commission led by Gauri Bahadur Karki, tasked with investigating the Sept  8–9 protests, is facing challenges handling high-profile political figures. Oli has openly questioned the commission’s legitimacy and repeatedly said he will not cooperate. The Nepal Army has responded to written queries but declined to appear in person. With only a three-month mandate, and limited cooperation, completing the investigation on time appears difficult.

As the commission proceeds, Nepal Police have arrested around 515 individuals on charges of arson and vandalism during the GenZ movement. Cases have been filed against 267 of them. Although Home Minister Om Prakash Aryal was initially against mass arrests, police pressure led to action. Meanwhile, 9,697 inmates who escaped during the movement remain at large.

While tensions between the government and political parties have eased somewhat, friction between GenZ groups and the government is rising. Some GenZ groups have protested appointments in Prime Minister Sushila Karki’s cabinet. The government is working to sign an agreement with GenZ groups to legitimize the September protests, but political parties have not been consulted. GenZ groups are pushing for a quick agreement to avoid potential prosecution by a new post-election government.

Most members of the international community appear supportive of holding elections on March 5. They view the polls as essential for putting the country back on the constitutional track. Two senior diplomats I spoke with this week said they are encouraging both the government and political parties not to postpone the elections, warning that any delay could create further uncertainty in Nepal.

Every morning as Kathmandu wakes, street dogs stretch out of alleys, temple courtyards, and construction sites. They belong to everyone and no one. But behind their wagging tails and familiar faces is a silent struggle for survival of hunger, accidents, mistreatment, and the deadly threat of rabies.

The story follows the life of one street dog—Tommy, a few years back, he used to live in my locality. Local shopkeepers fed him scraps, but no one knows his age or where he came from. He used to live in front of my house where he felt safe. One day, Tommy gets into a fight with a pack from a nearby area, and a small wound goes unnoticed. Within days, his behaviour changes—he becomes restless, aggressive, and later disappears. One day while returning from school, we learned he was taken by some people in the van. His story reflects what happens to thousands of strays each year.

The numbers tell a serious story. According to Nepal in data report, Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) data from 2016 estimated around 30,000 stray dogs roaming the city. By 2018, veterinary doctors noted that this number had increased, citing the lack of government measures to manage the population. The World Organization for Animal Health (WOAH) reported in 2019 that Nepal had a total dog population of over 2.7m, of which approximately 2m were community or stray dogs and estimates for Kathmandu specifically range from 19,000 to over 30,000.

Animal Nepal (2022 report) shows that they have sterilized 1,968 dogs across Lalitpur, Kirtipur, Mahagadhimai, Lumbini, and Nepalgunj, treated 1,892 dogs in Kathmandu Valley and Lumbini for injuries and illnesses, vaccinated 3,337 dogs against rabies in multiple districts and facilitated adoption for 24 rescued dogs.

Voice of Animal Nepal (VOAN) (2024 report) notes that they have rescued and cared for over 1,350 injured, abandoned, or abused animals, sterilized over 100 dogs and cats in Kathmandu and nearby districts, and vaccinated 450 animals against rabies in partnership with local authorities. It has also estimated 22,000 street dogs throughout Kathmandu Valley.
Despite Nepal’s commitment to eliminate dog-mediated human rabies deaths by 2030, the reality on the ground paints a different picture.

Vaccine shortages, inadequate dog population management, misinformation, and deeply ingrained social stigma toward street dogs continue to hamper progress. Coordinated surveillance is minimal, meaning no reliable data exists on how many dogs are vaccinated, sterilized, or suffering from disease.

Legally, municipalities are responsible for managing street dogs, yet many lack the resources or rely on outdated practices like poisoning, despite legal bans. Consequently, dogs are often blamed and harmed instead of being protected or vaccinated. Fear and misinformation lead to killings, cruelty, and public apathy. Some neighbourhoods feed and care for dogs, while others throw stones or poison them. Public attitudes directly shape the fate of street dogs.

At the same time, NGOs, veterinarians, activists, and youth volunteers continue to make a difference. They run sterilization camps, vaccinate dogs, rescue the injured, and advocate for humane treatment.

Rupa Adhikari, a member of VOAN, explains the challenges on the ground, “Rabies vaccinations are provided by municipalities, and we collaborate with them. The vaccinations come from the government, and we help to administer them.

On a daily basis, we vaccinate 100–150 dogs. The government has been more helpful than before, but their interest is limited. They complain about a lack of budget. Often, they prefer to collaborate with private entities rather than NGOs. Even when we collaborate, vaccinations are conducted only in open areas, not narrow streets or densely populated localities.”

Adhikari highlighted that there is no proper implementation or legal threat for those who abuse animals. “In one case, an owner beat a dog, but the police showed little interest. We try to intervene, but sometimes, due to lack of evidence, we can’t do much. Many people think ‘they are just dogs,’ and that mindset is a major challenge.”

Advocates stress the need for a comprehensive legal framework and stronger government commitment. While police sometimes support animal welfare cases, widespread indifference continues to hinder progress.

Roman Raghu Shrestha, a veterinarian and surgeon at the Kathmandu Animal Treatment Centre (KAT), said, “We work on animal birth control surgeries, and we regularly vaccinate any animals brought to us. In the areas where we have worked—Tokha Municipality and Budhanilkantha Municipality—the estimated dog populations are 1,200–1,500 and 2,000–2,500 respectively. These figures are tentative, as the data vary between institutions and are recorded by the municipalities.”

In terms of awareness, they run programs in about 30 schools and colleges, reaching students from grade six up to the bachelor’s level. However, when it comes to policy, it has not been revised for a long time. The policies remain unchanged since their early introduction, and the resulting actions have been very limited.

“We do collaborate with the government on different campaigns. But regarding the rabies vaccine tracking system—an app designed to keep records, I didn’t feel comfortable using it, so we decided not to use it,” Shrestha said.

At the ministry level, officials acknowledge both the efforts made and the challenges ahead. Indira Sharma, veteran and information officer at the Department of Livestock Services, described the government’s approach, “We collaborate with everyone and engage with NGOs from time to time. They focus more on community welfare and advocacy, and we engage with them in policy-making and decision-making processes. Sometimes NGOs expect financial support which the government can’t provide at the moment.”

Sharma said that for legal punishment of animal abuse, the government is not directly responsible; local ministries look after these cases.”

She highlighted that for the 2030 rabies elimination goal, they follow “One Health” approach in collaboration with the Health Ministry adding, “We are working on Animal Birth Control Surgery at provincial and district hospitals to manage dog populations and running awareness programs by distributing pamphlets and posters, as well as using online campaigns via ministry websites and Facebook pages to educate communities.”

“The ministry is also engaged in policy development, working on regulations and guidelines to strengthen animal welfare. Disease surveillance is another key focus, with rabies prevalence monitored across animals through sample testing, supported by regional labs such as the Dhangadi Veterinary Lab,” she added.
Additionally, in fiscal year 2024/25, the government provided 154,000 doses of rabies vaccines, while private sectors imported more to supplement vaccination coverage. However, she noted challenges, “There is no dedicated budget for vaccination or animal welfare and collaboration with NGOs lacks a clear mechanism. As a ministry, we cannot reach everywhere, and that is a major problem.”

Nepal has more than half a million street dogs, yet many municipalities lack proper sterilization, vaccination programs, or shelters. Rabies, a 100 percent preventable disease, still claims lives every year—mostly among children in low-income communities. Lack of sterilization leads to unmanageable numbers of puppies, many of whom die from disease, starvation, or accidents.

Only a fraction of street dogs receive anti-rabies vaccines, and post-exposure treatment remains inaccessible to many.
The struggle of Kathmandu’s street dogs is a reflection of systemic gaps and the complex interplay between humans and animals.

Yet amidst this grim reality, the work of NGOs, veterinarians, and volunteers provides hope, illustrating that with coordinated effort, compassion, and policy support, the lives of street dogs and the safety of communities can be significantly improved.

What if the future of Nepal’s tourism lies not in building new trails, but in rediscovering how we welcome people?
For decades, the world has known Nepal for its bravery and beauty—the courage of its people and the majesty of its mountains.

Yet beneath those summits lies a quieter, equally powerful strength: hospitality. From the warm “Namaste” of a villager to the tea shared by a stranger on a trail, Nepal’s identity has always been rooted in kindness. But as tourism grows, one must ask—are we still carrying that spirit as high as our peaks?

Adventure and nature-based tourism are expanding faster than ever. The global adventure travel market is projected to exceed $1trn by 2030, while Nepal welcomed over 415,000 international visitors in the first four months of 2025, many seeking authentic, meaningful encounters. In this new era, the competition is no longer just about altitude or adrenaline. It’s about experience—and the soul of that experience lies in hospitality.

Hospitality, however, isn’t only about hotels or service standards. It’s about behavior—the way we treat those who cross our paths. Do we, as Nepalis, truly enjoy hosting people? Do we take pride in sharing our home, our food and our stories? Do we greet a visitor with warmth or with the weariness of routine? Both the professional side of hospitality and the personal one matter. One builds an economy; the other builds emotion. And when the two drift apart, so does the essence of travel.

To understand where that gap may be widening, I chose to look closely at the Everest region — specifically Phakding, the village that greets trekkers on their first night of the journey toward Everest Base Camp. For most travellers, it’s little more than a resting point; for me, it became a window into how first impressions are formed—and how they can shape the image of an entire country.
Phakding lies quietly beside the Dudhkoshi river, its suspension bridges swaying like ribbons against the mist.

At sunset, the air hums with footsteps and laughter—a blend of excitement and exhaustion. Over five nights, I watched the rhythm of arrivals and departures, the quick exchanges between guests, guides and lodge owners — moments small yet revealing.

One evening, I overheard a young Filipino and his British friend talking to their guide. “Is the hotel in Namche better than this one?” the Filipino asked, hopeful. The guide, clearly experienced in climbing but not in conversation, replied, “It’s in the middle of Namche… top ten.” The guests chuckled: “So, the tenth of the top ten then.” It was polite laughter, but tinged with disappointment—cramped rooms, uneven bathrooms, Wi-Fi and hot showers that cost extra. The guide smiled awkwardly, unsure whether to explain or empathize. In that silence, I realized how much storytelling matters—how the right words could have turned complaint into curiosity.

Nearby, a group of Chinese women debated the price of beer. “Can we go out and buy it elsewhere? It’s too expensive here!” they laughed. Their guide could only shrug. The Everest region’s economy is complex: rooms are cheap to attract trekkers, but the costs rise in food and amenities. Everything here—every plate, plank and bottle—is carried on the backs of animals and people.

Zopkyo, the sturdy cross between yak and cow, and khachhar, the hybrid of horse and donkey, carry supplies along steep stone paths. Their bells echo through forests and clouds. Each item that reaches Phakding bears the mark of effort and endurance. And yet, few travellers ever hear that story.

It struck me then: if every meal came with its story, the experience would change. Imagine a host announcing, “Tonight’s dinner is prepared by young cooks from this valley — using ingredients carried on the same animals you saw along the trail today.” Suddenly, the price of a meal becomes not a cost but a connection. That’s what true hospitality does—it turns transaction into meaning.
What I witnessed in Phakding isn’t a failure; it’s a reminder. A reminder that Nepal’s greatest advantage is not infrastructure or altitude, but empathy. We don’t need to outbuild others—we simply need to out-care them. If we can pair the professionalism of tourism with the heart of Nepali warmth, we can redefine what visitors remember when they leave.

Phakding, in that sense, is more than the first night of a trek. It’s a mirror—showing us what the world first sees of us. But it can also be a destination in itself: a riverside retreat, a place where travellers and Nepalis alike pause, reflect and reconnect with the rhythm of the mountains. Perhaps that is where our tourism story must begin again—not at the summit, but at the welcome.

As I rode up toward Rimijung monastery above Phakding, I passed the small wooden house where Bikas, my horse caretaker, lives. It was simple but serene—a clearing that felt like a slice of heaven on earth. Bikas, a young man in his early twenties, has chosen to stay in his village and rear horses for trekking. Watching him, I felt both hope and concern. Hope, because here was someone who had found purpose in his own landscape; concern, because so many of his contemporaries from equally beautiful corners of Nepal now live in cramped rented rooms in Kathmandu, far away from their roots.

Bikas represents the future of Nepali tourism—not in infrastructure, but in attitude. We need more young people like him, who love their hometowns and see value in preserving their culture. Only when young Nepalis fall in love with their own land and stories will they become the kind of hosts who can show visitors a Nepal that is authentic, responsible, and deeply human.

The day I reached Rimijung monastery, a grand Lhabab Düchen puja was taking place—celebrating Buddha’s descent from Heaven back to the human realm after teaching the Abhidhamma, or higher philosophy, to the gods and his mother, Queen Maya Devi. As I stood among the monks, I noticed walls filled with centuries-old scriptures—each page carrying the wisdom of generations. They reminded me of the stories our country and culture hold, yet often forget. These are the stories that can retell Nepal’s identity to the world—stories of compassion, coexistence and courage that people everywhere would want to listen to.

For generations, Nepal has been known for its altitude. For decades, the world has known Nepal for its bravery and beauty—the courage of its people and the majesty of its mountains—for the summits that pierce the sky and the courage of those who climb them. But perhaps our next great ascent lies not in meters or milestones, but in mindset. The climb ahead is inward—toward an attitude of self-love, one that rekindles pride in our own stories—Nepal’s stories that the world longs to hear.

True altitude will only mean something if it’s matched by gratitude. When a traveller from across the world chooses Nepal, it isn’t just tourism—it’s trust. They are choosing to become part of Nepal’s story. That should fill us with joy, not routine. Too often, we measure success in the number of arrivals rather than the depth of their experience. Our goal should not be to attract more visitors, but to raise the quality of how we receive them—to lift our hospitality behavior to match our natural beauty.

People like Bikas remind us what this new attitude can look like. A young man who stayed in his home village, raising horses along the Dudhkoshi, Bikas’s open-mindedness and contentment reveal a truth we’ve forgotten: happiness doesn’t have to be imported. It can be cultivated right where we are. If more young Nepalis embraced that mindset—to live with curiosity, pride and purpose in their own hometowns—Nepal’s tourism would no longer need to be “developed.”

It would already be thriving through love.
At Rimijung monastery, as monks chanted for Lhabab Düchen and the walls shimmered with ancient scripture, I was struck by another realization: we must rediscover curiosity about ourselves. Our stories—once whispered through valleys and carved into temples—are fading from our own memory. Yet these are the stories that can once again enchant the world, if only we learn to ask the right questions and tell them with conviction.

To every guide, host and agency shaping tomorrow’s Nepal, the climb is clear. Take pride in being Nepali. Learn from the world’s best storytellers, then become one for your own home. The true spirit of hospitality is not service—it’s storytelling with sincerity.

The world will always come to Nepal for its mountains. But it will return for its warmth. Our next great climb is not to the top of Everest — it is to the heart of who we are.

The CPN-UML, the second largest party in the dissolved House of Representatives, appears to have a two-pronged strategy in a fluid political context as two recent moves of the party indicate.    

Mahesh Bartauala, chief whip of the UML parliamentary party in the dissolved House of Representatives (HoR), and Sunita Baral have filed a writ at the Supreme Court seeking reinstatement of the HoR. 

At the same time, the CPN-UML has registered itself at the Election Commission, making it clear that it is ready to contest the HoR elections slated for March 5 next year. 

Niraj Acharya, head of the party’s Election Department, and Office Secretary Bhishma Adhikari submitted the party registration application at the Election Commission, becoming the 66th registered party vying for the polls. 

After the registration, department Head Acharya said that UML is a party that completes all legal procedures for every type of election, and therefore the party has been registered accordingly.

The deadline for registering political parties for the HoR elections is until Mangsir 10 (Nov 26). 

According to Bartauala, the UML has moved the court seeking the reinstatement of the House of Representatives on the following counts.

1. Since Sushila Karki, a retired chief justice, is neither a member of the House of Representatives nor does she enjoy support from the parliamentary party of any political party for premiership, her appointment as Prime Minister is unconstitutional and in violation of Articles 76 and 132(2) of the Constitution. Therefore, the court should issue an order of certiorari against her appointment as PM.

2. The court should quash the Sept 12 decision of the President to appoint Sushila Karki as the PM, the swearing-in conducted on that basis and all other relevant appointments, along with all other illegal and unconstitutional actions, decisions and appointments. 

3. The presidential decision to dissolve the HoR, made on Sept 12 on the recommendation of PM Karki, should be quashed and the HoR reinstated. All state bodies and institutions that existed on that date should continue to function like they did before, and an order of mandamus should be issued in the name of respondents.

4. The court should issue a mandamus order to the President to begin the process of forming a new government in accordance with Article 76 of the Constitution.

5. It should issue a mandamus order to the Speaker and the Parliament Secretariat to make necessary arrangements for convening the session of the reinstated HoR.

6. After the reinstatement of the HoR, the court should issue an order of prohibition directing the government constituted unconstitutionally to halt all activities related to the HoR elections.

7. Considering the seriousness and sensitivity of the subject matter, this petition needs to be decided promptly. The respondents should be ordered to submit their written replies, and a continuous hearing conducted by fixing a date for the hearing.