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I was just ten years’ old when I decided to become the only vegetarian in my family. Interestingly, no one opposed. I have heard many stories where parents did not permit their kids to be “deprived of animal protein” when they wanted to make that decision. Thankfully, it was not my case. I had a couple of reasons to become a vegetarian.  

In those days, it was a matter of pride for each household to buy at least one live goat for Dashain. As an animal lover, I’d be happy to see goats at our place. I’d pet them despite being frightened by the small but pointed horns. I remember how their voice would change when I'd greet them with a bunch of green leaves. Later, the floor would be all littered with tiny black droppings when they were done eating. 

But my friendship would end on the day of Astami! A large cooking pot would be placed on firewood or stove to boil water. A strong man would show up at our house readying a paste of oil and turmeric and sharpening his Khukuri. Those were enough hints for me to understand that it was the day of slaughter of the poor goat. The goat that was frolicking until the morning would now end up in different forms of meat in the fridge. I could never normalize this idea of eating your own pet. Would anyone think of slaying their puppies or kittens for a variety of meat? And who gives humans the authority to take others' lives? One might argue that it's the nature of the ecosystem but I feel it shows our atrocity over the innocent. I made the decision to stop eating meat. 

I was in grade six then and one day in class, we discussed the poem Paap Laagchha by Laxmi Prasad Devkota. Its lines were simple but very powerful—nachhopnu hai charibari, saraap aansu laagdachha; namaarnu jantu hai kunai, basera kaala jaagdachha—meaning killing birds and animals was a sin and that the sufferings of the animals would haunt you. It was an added inspiration for me to respect everyone’s lives. And then started my journey as a vegetarian. Goat slaughtering at our house was also banned.

So, how has my Dashain been over the past three decades? Well, it’s like anyone else’s except for eating meat. I avoid going to the temples where animal sacrifices are made. I make traditional bottled pickles of overripe cucumber and radish. Instead of meat, I eat cottage cheese or mushrooms for protein. The aroma of guavas are also a reminder of Dashain for me. I play cards with my family, enjoy the bamboo swing, and travel around to see the ripe paddy farms around Kathmandu. Taking a peek every day at the barley seeds sown on the day of Ghatasthapana to see if jamara sprouted or not is another routine for me. Finally, blooming bright marigolds, fragrance of gokul dhup, attempts to fly kites in the blue autumn sky, listening to Dashain music in the mornings, and receiving tika on the main day from elders and counting daskshina at night just like a child give me enough happiness to enjoy Dashain, without eating meat!

To all living eight prime ministers, finance ministers, living finance secretaries, and governors of Nepal Rastra Bank. To all living deputy chairs of the National Planning Commission, eminent economists, advisors, experts, and professors of economics. To all brilliant scholars working globally with the World Bank, Asian Development Bank, International Monetary Fund. 

To all eminent Harvard, Stanford, Oxford, and Cambridge scholars working in the field of economics. To the deans, professors, and lecturers in the economics department of Nepali universities. To all researchers who analyze the regional and global context of Nepal’s economics.

To economic diplomats, heads of missions in business and economics. And to all economic researchers and planners, impact analysts, economic journalists and columnists.

Firstly, amid this peculiar festive season, characterized by slow market activity and lower-than-anticipated traffic on major highways, I extend my warm wishes for your well-being and joy. Today, as a concerned citizen, I raise some pressing questions. 

What has transpired within Nepal’s economy over the past three years? Why does everything seem stable when it’s not? Why isn't trade and commerce flourishing?  Why does the chorus of “There’s no money” persist everywhere? Why does the nation seem to be mourning some unseen loss during this festive climate? What’s the real story behind it all?

You, the distinguished experts, are the ones who can unravel these mysteries and more. Every ordinary citizen of Nepal eagerly awaits your responses. 

It seems, however, that many of you have been avoiding these questions. Could it be that your efforts to plant the right seeds have failed, or perhaps the true root causes of Nepal’s current economic woes have eluded you? Have your analyses and course of action proved futile, or do you simply not concern yourselves with the ongoing situation?

We are firmly convinced that you bear responsibility for these matters, and we seek your clarifications. Your standard responses, such as low GDP, inefficient development budget spending, remittance dependency, lack of industrialization, and import reliance, do not suffice. These issues have been repeated for years, but not a single working solution has been offered. Are there no new factors to discuss, or, if your previously stated reasons are accurate, why hasn't any progress been made? 

The fundamentals of our economy overshadow your assessments and estimations. Isn't it your duty to address these problems? We demand answers. There are more questions ...

How have major corruption scandals, such as the 60 kg gold smuggling case, the Lalita Niwas land grab scam, and the fake Bhutanese refugee issue, institutionalized corruption and impacted our economy? To what extent do such incidents affect the nation's economic growth? Are such scams still occurring behind the scenes? Whether they come to light or remain concealed, how do they affect the economy when corrupt wealth significantly multiplies? Where does this black money go, and what strategy should economists employ to curb corruption?

How do we manage the increasing national administrative expenses, particularly within the federal administration, as the ‘investment return’ of administrative costs? What is the ‘investment return’ of federal administrative expenses?

How has the fluctuation in the value of the dollar affected the economy in recent years, and what actions need to be taken in such circumstances?

When analyzing ‘inward remittances’, who monitors external remittances? How has the tax structure, focusing on ‘tax above business but below brokerage,’ influenced external remittances, and how are non-resident Nepalis expanding their investments? Have they secured funding from businesses like restaurants and petrol pumps? Why do Nepali entrepreneurs primarily seek investment through foreign travel? What is the state of the funds earned from the sale of Nepal’s ancestral property abroad? How are educational loans for students studying abroad managed?

Do you truly understand taxation, or is it merely a mathematical formula for collecting government administrative expenses? Has taxation, rather than being a facilitator, acted as a deterrent for entrepreneurs looking to establish businesses in Nepal? If so, are we barking up the wrong tree? Is our economic path based on incorrect formulas, trapped within traditional perspectives, hindered by inadequate research methods, and constrained by outdated experts? Do we need to break free from our flawed assumptions and understanding? We demand answers.

Moreover, why the reluctance to promote the country’s growing exports through information technology? Why hesitate to critically analyze the actual importance and impact of our national pride programs? Why the hesitation to question the expenses of non-functional institutions and agencies?

If remittance is a key driver of Nepal’s economy, why hesitate to support foreign employment by making it more favorable, well-planned, transparent, modern, and honorable? 

While creating landless loans is nearly impossible, why restrict citizens’ access to funds for purchasing land worth about Rs 100 at a rate of nearly 30 rupees and not enact relevant legislation?

Why the skepticism about creating a conducive environment for the Nepal Stock Exchange Board to make bold decisions? Why has the burden of interest not been alleviated to facilitate access to funds and foster an environment that promotes entrepreneurship and innovation?

We insist on answers. What comes next? We don’t have all the answers, but you might. The nation has invested its hopes, aspirations, and faith in your knowledge, experience, and recognition. Failing to channel your economic expertise effectively would be a missed opportunity—embarrassing even. A knowledgeable expert can solve problems. Therefore, become empowered, self-reliant, and patriotic, transcending illusions and delusions. When does this new beginning occur, and how? We insist on answers.

This piece was inspired by a conversation with a banker 

A long festive season is around the corner. Marigolds, chrysanthemums, makhmali (gomphrena globosa) and a myriad other flowers are in full bloom, as if in celebration. The air is full of our very own Mangal Dhun and Malshree. The kites flying high in the sky and crops ready for harvest in our fertile fields also seem to be suggesting us all to not worry too much. 

But our hearts are not as full of joy as they used to be in the midst of festivities, with several factors seeking to eat into our peace, bliss and happiness. Rising market prices have become a killjoy with the absence of the state in the market giving black marketers a free rein.  

 Apart from the utter lack of the rule of law in the market, the wounds from the recent killing of 10 Nepali students in attacks in Israel are still raw. 

As a peace-loving nation, which itself has been a victim of violence and terror, our prayers are for peace and tranquility all over the world. As a country that has been contributing to United Nations peacekeeping operations around the world, including in the restive Mideast, Nepal, the birthplace and tapobhumi (the place of meditation) of Gautam Buddha and numerous other enlightened souls like Rishis, Maharshis and Munis, should do its utmost for the cessation of hostilities. 

On the domestic front, the government should do far more than it has been doing to curb the literal exodus of hundreds of Nepalis to foreign shores every day, At the heart of this alarming brain and muscle drain is a growing feeling among the most productive age group, the youths, that the country is heading toward a dark abyss, thanks to a rudderless political leadership and a bureaucracy that has failed to act as the permanent government, by and large. 

Instead of taking concrete measures to stop this drain, the government itself seems to be aiding and abetting this exodus, driven by the lure of remittances, without giving a hoot about the multi-faceted negative impacts of this drain on Nepal. 

Learning lessons from the tragedies in Israel, Afghanistan and Iraq and high death rates of Nepalis working in subhuman conditions around the world, the government needs to adopt policies that create jobs and a favorable environment for doing business in the country. Only then will Nepal be able to get a population dividend, ushering the country in an era of peace, progress and prosperity.   

On their part, the youths would do well to stop searching for the proverbial land where milk and honey flows. The youths should realize that their motherland/fatherland needs them the most, especially at a time when it has been facing serious crises. They should ask themselves as to why they cannot make a living in Nepal even when lakhs of people from the neighborhood have been doing exactly the same.   

They should never forget that this country is too precious to be left to a bunch of rulers, who have their petty interests at heart, at the expense of the greater good of the country.  

Let Goddess Durga inspire us to reclaim our country and our destiny.   

On a small farm in Nepal, a weeping father mourns the lost dreams of his 25-year-old son, among the 10 Nepali agriculture students massacred in the Hamas assault on Israel.

It was only last month that Ashish Chaudhary’s family had been celebrating his hopes of building a better life, after he joined Israel’s 11-month ‘Learn and Earn’ work-study scheme.

“I thought... it would be good for him and his bright future,” his father Bejhulal Dangaura told AFP with tears in his eyes. “If I had known about this danger, I would have stopped him.”

Chaudhary was among the 10 Nepali students killed when Palestinian Islamist group Hamas launched its Oct 7 attack on Israel, stabbing, shooting and burning to death more than 1,400 people. The attack—the worst in Israel’s history—sparked a retaliatory assault on Gaza that has killed around 3,000 people there, most of them civilians.

At Israel’s Kibbutz Alumim, close to the Gaza border, Chaudhary was among the 10 Nepali farming students killed by Hamas’s grenade explosions and intense gunfire.

Four other Nepalis were injured, and one student is missing. Distraught relatives in Nepal—a majority-Hindu Himalayan nation over 4,500 kilometers (2,795 miles) from the bloodshed—are reeling from the loss.

Chaudhary had planned to return home next year. His dream was to use his savings and the skills learned from Israel’s high-tech agriculture to launch a farming business in Nepal’s western Kailali district.

More than 3,000 Nepalis have joined the Israeli programme since its 2013 launch, being paid more in a year than what it would take a decade on average to earn at home.

Remittances are crucial for Nepal’s economy, equalling nearly a quarter of the country’s GDP last year, the ninth-highest rate globally, according to the World Bank.

‘River of blood’

Before the attack, around 4,500 Nepalis were estimated to be working in Israel, many as caregivers. About 200 students were on the ‘Learn and Earn’ program, which allows them to learn new skills while working on farms in Israel.

Parents who poured their life savings into educating their child—hoping they could then bring the whole family out of poverty—have had their dreams crushed.

“I did not let anything go missing from his life since his childhood. All love their children and want to give them a good education. We brought him to this point,” his father Dangaura said.

Dangaura had taken out loans to send his son to college, using his home and small shop as collateral. Students like Chaudhary expect to earn up to $15,000 for their work in Israel, a lucrative opportunity with Nepal’s annual average income just $1,400.

His death came just as “he wanted to earn and take care of us”, Dangaura said.

“He was happy. He had many dreams... He used to tell me: ‘Don’t worry, I will take care of everything,’” his sister Amrita Devi Dangaura said, as she burst into tears while consoling her parents.

“We are left with neither any business nor farmland nor our family’s son.” Durga Neupane, aunt of another student Narayan Prasad Neupane killed, said she would struggle to comprehend his death until she saw his dead body.

“It feels like it’s not real,” she said. “He used to say that he would return home and build a concrete house. Now, even his body is not here.”

Nepal last week sent a rescue flight for 254 citizens, with 200 others waiting to return.

Dhan Bahadur Chaudhary, 26, injured by a grenade blast, was among those who returned. He saw his friends shot dead and others bleed to death. “I can’t sleep well at night,” he told reporters as he arrived at the airport in the capital Kathmandu. “I dream of my friends. I only see blood, I see a river of blood.”

AFP