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Ramlal (name changed) was born to a farming family in Dhanusha. He was about ten when he realized he was different from the other boys of his age. He had feminine traits and took pleasure in grooming himself to look pretty.

“I enjoyed wearing lipstick and bangles. Playing with girls brought me joy,” he says. 

Ramlal’s girly interests invited bullying and harassment not just from his contemporaries but also adults in his neighborhoods. They hurled derogatory terms like ‘chhakka’, ‘hijra’, and ‘mangmehra’ at him. Even his family members harbored feelings of embarrassment because he identified as a girl. Out of shame, his father refused to send him to school. 

“My father cursed me, often expressing regret for my birth. My younger siblings also didn’t accept me for who I was. They were resentful because they felt that I had tarnished our family’s image.” 

The only person who supported Ramlal was his mother, though she insisted on him getting married to a girl. “She thought that marriage would fix me,” says Ramlal. “Time and again, she would suggest that I get married.” 

At the time, Ramlal felt that he was the only one in the world. He tried and failed to fit in to become “normal”.  Eventually, he met some people from the LGBTIQA+ community who advised him that it was okay to get married. Ramlal agreed to this advice and got married. 

Little did he know about the problems that were coming his way. His marital life blew up after his wife learned about him. Provoked by villagers, his wife would abuse and berate him.

“The villagers used to ask my wife how she could bear a child from a transgender husband. They would even spread rumors about her having affairs,” says Ramlal. 

Out of societal pressure and taunts, Ramlal and his wife had two children, a son and a daughter. But having children didn’t stop the rumors and insults. The villagers started taunting Ramlal’s children.

“My children were told to expel me out of my home, labeling me useless due to my transgender status,” says Ramlal.

His home life was never peaceful. He and his wife used to fight constantly. His relationship with his parents was also deteriorating. All his savings were in his wife’s bank account, and his parents had transferred his inheritance under his wife’s name. 

Ramlal says he felt alone and unwanted, and even contemplated ending his life. Fortunately, he was rescued by a man from his neighboring village. He couldn’t live in the village anymore, so he decided to leave for India. 

When he reached Janakpur, Ramlal encountered someone from his village who worked at an Antiretroviral Therapy Center. Aware of his suffering, he guided Ramlal to the office of Blue Diamond Society, an LGBTIQA+ rights organization. 

Ramlal spent a week at the society office, receiving counseling and hearing about the stories of other people who had gone through similar experiences as him.

“Their empathy helped me understand that everyone in our community faces struggles, but most persist, fight against the odds and live a dignified life,” says Ramlal. 

He eventually moved to India and found himself a job at a general store. Ramlal has left his past behind, and he is happy that he did.  

“Janakpurdham’s Blue Diamond Society is my home now, and its people are my family,” he says. 

Ramlal’s family has also forgotten him, it seems. When his mother passed away three months ago, no one tried to contact him. Despite being the eldest son, he could not participate in the funeral rituals of his mother. He learned about his mother’s passing from a friend who was visiting Janakpur.

“What I have gone through I wouldn’t even wish upon my worst enemy,” says Ramlal.

Pradip Yadav, program coordinator at Blue Diamond Society, Janakpurdham, says, the real problem for most LGBTIQA+ persons starts at their homes in the forms of abuse, ignorance and non-acceptance. 

“Little has changed over the years. LGBTIQA+ individuals endure humiliation at home and they are denied education, resources, and job opportunities.” 

Even though Nepal has legally recognized LGBTIQA+ community and their rights, Yadav says the community members still face many challenges. It has been observed that the implementation of various government orders has been fragmented and lacking in tangible progress. Legal and government orders have been inconsistent and incomplete, indicating a need for more comprehensive and effective implementation strategies. 

“The core reason for their lagging behind is the denial of education, leading to failures across sectors,” says Yadav. “Majority of the LGBTIQA+ persons lack access to education; only a few reach primary or secondary levels, and a handful secure promising careers.” 

Despite our attempts, academic challenges persist for the LGBTIQA+ individuals. He says there was a resistance from Private and Boarding School's Organization Nepal  (PABSON) and National Private and Boarding Schools’ Association (NPABSON) when he requested for LGBTIQA+ representation in school committees. 

“PABSON and NPABSON were worried about society’s readiness for such an inclusion.” 

He added that advocacy for the LGBTIQA+ community faces a significant obstacle due to their political exclusion, hindering their representation in policy making spheres. The crux lies in the necessity for advocates who intimately understand the community’s struggles, particularly those grappling with their identities. 

To justify and effectively drive this advocacy, it’s imperative that individuals who have navigated similar challenges are part of the political landscape. Their presence ensures a more comprehensive and authentic approach to policy making, essential in securing the long-denied rights of the LGBTIQA+ community.

“Multiple laws were drafted in our favor. But sadly, their implementation has fallen short,” says Yadav. “The contemporary definition of minorities, for instance, excludes the LGBTIQA+ community. While Dalit, Muslim, women, and Madheshi are seen as minorities, our identity is overlooked.” 

Moreover , despite ongoing discourse about political representation, political parties often fall short in practicing inclusive policies effectively. Yadav’s personal experience of being offered a ticket from Nepali Congress under the condition of not publicly revealing his sexual orientation and identifying as male highlights the persistent challenges faced by LGBTIQA+ individuals in accessing political opportunities. 

“The ultimate solution lies in political inclusion. Without representatives from our community, advocacy for our rights remains futile,” says Yadav. “We’re just like everyone else. We’re part of this world too. Consider us as a part of the society and that will be enough for us.”

More than 500 savings and credit cooperatives across the country are not in a position to return depositors’ money, say cooperative victims.

Harish Chandra Shrestha, coordinator of the National Campaign for the Protection of Cooperative Depositors, said these cooperatives have embezzled hard-earned savings worth Rs 65bn from hundreds and thousands of depositors.

According to the Department of Cooperatives, there are more than 32,000 cooperative organizations across the country. These organizations have mobilized deposits from 7.3 million members and have a combined share capital of Rs 94bn. Likewise, they have mobilized Rs 478bn in deposits and invested Rs 426bn in loans.

“Many of those who embezzled people’s money parked in cooperatives are now affiliated with different political parties. Some have fled the country,” Shrestha said. “Most of the promoters of cooperatives are affiliated with one party or another. They become lawmakers and formulate laws that suit them. That is why the voices of cooperative victims go unheard.”

16 cooperatives ‘troubled’, Rs 13.5bn at risk

Dozens of cooperatives across the country have run into trouble. The government has declared 16 of them as ‘troubled’ institutions. Deposits worth Rs 13.14bn of 272 members are stuck in 15 out of these 16 cooperatives, according to the department.

The government, for the first time in 2018, declared 19 cooperatives—Standard, Standard Multipurpose, Kuber, Pacific, Prabhu, Chartered, Consumer, Kohinoor Hill, and Vegas—as troubled. Societal, Lunibha, Oriental, Pashupati, Tulsi Multipurpose, Shiva Shikhar, and Hamro Naya Krishi were added to the list later on. Of them, Oriental alone has mobilized Rs 3.19bn from 259 members. More than 600 depositors of Oriental have complained to the government, stating that they deposited the money for apartment units developed by Oriental chairman Sudhir Basnet.

The government declared Oriental ‘troubled’ a year ago.

Cooperative institutions that are unable to conduct financial transactions are declared as ‘troubled’ on the recommendation of the department.

Kashi Raj Dahal, chairman of the Troubled Cooperatives Management Committee, said cooperatives doing financial transactions and those based in urban areas have run into trouble. “About 500 cooperatives are in a situation of trouble. Of them, 145 come under the ambit of the federal government and 16 of them have been declared as ‘troubled’ institutions,” he added.

According to Dahal, the committee has already cleared all the liabilities of three ‘troubled’ cooperatives—Standard Multipurpose, Kuber, and Chartered. Likewise, the committee is in the process of clearing liabilities of two more cooperatives—Societal and Lunibha, he added. “As for other troubled cooperatives, the committee is searching for assets of their promoters and lenders. Frozen assets of these people are in the process of being auctioned off,” Dahal said.

According to the department, more cooperatives are being added to the list of troubled institutions. “We are investigating the financial transactions of six cooperatives. We will seek clarification from the promoters after the study is complete. If their clarification is not satisfactory, we will declare them as troubled,” Tol Raj Upadhyaya, the information officer of the department, said.

Why did cooperatives fail?

The committee has said that most of the cooperatives that have been declared as troubled institutions were facing a shortage of resources, means, and workforce. Many promoters are found to have used money collected as deposits to buy fixed assets and pledging them as collateral to take bank loans.

“Many cooperatives are found to have violated the norms. Some promoters lacked the expertise to run institutions that mobilize people’s money,” Dahal said. “Some promoters had the bad intention of misusing depositors’ money for personal gains. Those misusing people’s money must be brought to book.”

Dahal also said promoters got free rein over cooperatives due to lack of effective monitoring and regulation by state agencies.

According to the committee, it is facing difficulty in clearing liabilities of troubled cooperatives as assets of promoters are already frozen by the court after investigation by the Central Investigation Bureau of Nepal Police.

Committee chair Dahal said there is a need to give direction to state agencies to facilitate unfreezing of assets of cooperative promoters so that their liabilities can be settled.

Coordinator of the campaign Shrestha said the government did nothing even though a single individual went on to open as many as six or seven cooperatives. “Their motive was never questioned. This is mainly due to a lapse in regulation by state agencies,” Shrestha said. “The lack of monitoring of cooperatives conducting transactions worth billions of rupees speaks volumes.”

Prashant Tamrakar has been turning heads in the fashion world for three decades. He isn’t just a model but also a choreographer, actor, and founder of Big Bell Edutainment and Fashion Network Nepal (FNN), which is an e-commerce and fashion business platform. Tamrakar is a trendsetter whose ingenious ideas continue to shape the fashion industry in Nepal. He is determined to make the fashion space a viable one for the younger generation.

“Fashion is a lifestyle. It’s not just about putting on nice clothes. It’s about expressing your desires, being inventive, and figuring out how to use what you have to your advantage. When basic needs turn into something luxurious, that’s when you’ve got fashion,” he says. Talking about his style, he says it reflects the confidence and ease he feels within.

Tamrakar was just 17 when he started modeling. It was a largely unexplored territory in Nepal back then. There were little to no opportunities. The decision to audition was a bold one, he confesses, one that he is now glad he took. But it wasn’t easy to make a name for himself. Connecting with the media, both national and international, was challenging. 

It also didn’t help that he didn’t have anyone to look up to during those early days. “We made lots of mistakes and learned things the hard way. I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I’m in a good place and I want my work to inspire the younger generation,” he says.  

In 1994, he made history by becoming the first male model to represent Nepal on the international stage at Manhunt International in Singapore and Graviera in India. The international exposure introduced him to various professions like makeup artistry, event management, and fashion design. His foray into fashion choreography, however, came as a detour when he was training as a model under a Norwegian choreographer. 

Leveraging these global experiences, he officially ventured into the event management business and choreography afterward. His company, he claims, was perhaps the first event management company to get registered in Nepal at that time.

Tamrakar says when he started, 30 years ago, the fashion industry was more like a small club. There weren’t many people involved in it. But now Tamrakar, who is in his 50s, says everything is big-scale now. It takes a village to put up a show. From makeup artists, choreographers, and event managers to stylists and fashion designers, a lot of people are involved in the making of a fashion extravaganza. He sees this change as a huge win in life. 

As an entrepreneur, he is determined to take things even further and make the fashion industry in Nepal a big, booming business. He says he wants to give a platform to those with the skills and talent to take fashion forward. 

But Tamrakar doesn’t believe in limiting himself to just one thing which is perhaps why he took up acting as well. During his modeling days, he was offered quite a few movies. But due to his focus on his business, he decided not to take them up. When things were a lot more settled, he decided to give it a shot. 

In 2017, he took up the role of the villain in the movie ‘Aishwarya’. The movie was a hit and people took notice of Tamrakar. He could act and act well. That much was evident. Following that, he bagged roles in other movies like ‘Captain’ and ‘Ranveer’. As of now, he’s working on a few South Indian projects, including one titled ‘Hitman’, which will be out soon. 

The versatile actor, model, and choreographer is also busy with his reality show projects like Nepali Beauty Star and Nepal Fashion Festival. He is also the official choreographer of Miss Universe Nepal. “I focus on teaching good habits, building a strong work ethic, and emphasizing the importance of dedication,” he says. Working with his team, he aims to bring out the best in each young individual, emphasizing their uniqueness. 

Tamrakar also champions a few causes like cancer awareness, environment conservation, skill development, and education through his company that he founded 18 years ago. He is involved with a few social organizations and businesses as well. He has a lot on his plate and though juggling it all can sometimes be taxing, he says he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Tamrakar says he is on a mission to give the fashion industry a makeover. He dreams of having a fashion council in Nepal to take industry issues to the policy level for investment and budget decisions. “We’ve got great talent, but we need a platform for the industry to grow,” he says.

As a staunch supporter of sustainable fashion, he says Nepal needs a fresh business approach that’s economically viable. This, he says, will ensure sustainability and stability in the market. He believes that investment in the textile, handlooms, and handicraft industries can boost the fashion market and thus the economy of the country. “Our old-school trends can integrate with the new fashion and tech trends to boost production,” he says. 

The ‘community forest’ initiative stands as one of Nepal’s most touted conservation development endeavors. Nepal devised the ‘Hariyo Ban Nepal Ko Dhan’ (Forest as national wealth) slogan in the yesteryears with a target of having at least 43 percent forest cover. However, propagators of the campaign say Nepal’s forest dwindled to 40 percent from 45 percent in the 1960s in just 15 years after the nationalization of private forests in 1956. This decline led to the introduction of the ‘community forestry program’ in 1987, transferring forest management responsibilities to local communities. Today, more than 16,186 forest user groups are affiliated with the Federation of Community Forestry Users Nepal, which speaks volumes about the success of the program.

 The program’s underlying motive was to elevate the proportion of forested land in the country by any means necessary. This singular focus led to widespread endorsement and implementation of the project across Nepali society with governmental support, with little room for alternative perspectives. The project’s community-centric name further obscured potential downsides even though the program was implemented without adequate consultation with rural Nepali communities.

 In official rhetoric, community forest was presented as a catalyst for sustainable development of local communities. It promised not just employment opportunities but also income generation through the sale of forest products like herbs and wood. The initiative envisaged forest users groups as autonomous community organizations to manage daily operations and generate resources for various community needs, including drinking water schemes, loans for indigenous people, public infrastructure, road construction and school management, among others. However, the implementation of the program predominantly focused on increasing forest cover. The intricate dynamics of rural livelihoods dependent on forests was largely overlooked.

 When the program was introduced, villages in hilly areas of Nepal were primarily agrarian communities. These communities believed in self-sufficiency in food production. Market dependence for staple food items, especially grains, was frowned upon during those days. Even households with significant cash earnings prioritized subsistence farming for survival. Villagers traditionally stored surplus grains to weather potential crises like droughts, which ensured community resilience and food sovereignty. This helped Nepal become a net exporter of food until the early 1980s.

 Recent researches show that Nepal transitioned to a net importer of food, particularly cereals, from the early 1980s onwards. This shift, many say, is linked to the implementation of new forest policies under the banner of community forest.  Previously, forests were freely accessible to all and they contributed to vibrant rural economies centered around animal husbandry and organic farming. As it was the only available occupation in rural areas, the younger generation participated in subsistence farming.

 Theoretically, there was room for local involvement in the organizational structure of the community forest program. However, the structure was designed in such a way that inadvertently favored control by a select group of local elites. While there were provisions for marginalized communities, particularly women, to participate actively in the program, the nature of duties assigned to members often prevented genuine people dependent on forests from active engagement. As a result, the poorest and most vulnerable members were overlooked while forming management committees. The program’s structure provided an avenue for local elites to assume leadership positions within forest user groups fostering a nexus between local leaders and government authorities. This collaboration was facilitated by the government’s objective to increase forest cover, influenced by Western ideologies, and its need for local partners to execute the initiative. Lately it was understood that the then western donors helped for this project for carbon trading so that they offer token money to countries like Nepal against the saved timbers, which otherwise could be used by locals as firewood for cooking. However, taking forest dwellers away from the jungle products have diverted village livelihood from eco-friendly sustainable life with renewable energy sources i.e. firewood to LPG gas.   

During those days, communication channels were limited to government-owned media outlets, which were accessible to only a fraction of rural households. This made it easier for authorities and the local elites to introduce new initiatives with minimal resistance from the local communities. Village dynamics also facilitated the implementation process, as the endorsement of a few influential male members would be sufficient to rally community support in those days. The attraction of leadership roles within the community forest framework, coupled with the program’s preservation-centric approach, favored those who already possessed land and trees, primarily the locally affluent. Those reliant on forest resources for their daily sustenance consequently found themselves relegated to the sidelines.

The policy of preserving forests by denying access to local communities was a flawed idea as forests are home to numerous renewable resources crucial for both communities’ sustenance and forests’ health. Regular forest management practices such as clipping and trimming could have facilitated faster forest growth, aligning with the intended objectives of the community forest initiative. Some communities did envision allowing villagers to utilize forest products. But it was not sufficient to meet the needs of the local population.

 The program’s structure was focused more on increasing forest cover rather than addressing the immediate needs of people dependent on forests. This initially led to a conflict between management objectives of the programs and the livelihoods of local communities. Despite the program’s punitive measures against collection of forest resources, many villagers, especially women and children, were forced to risk fines and harassment to gather firewood and fodder. The lack of accessible media platforms and social support networks left victims of this flawed policy powerless to voice their grievances. This suppression of traditional livelihood practices forced communities to depend on external resources, which gradually undermined their self-sufficiency.

The government prioritized road construction as a symbol of progress and modernity in later years. Road expansion enhanced connectivity significantly but also facilitated people’s access to external markets. This made a detrimental impact on local production and self-reliance. The easy availability of imported goods amid erosion of traditional farming practices exacerbated Nepal’s reliance on imported food, which led to a staggering increase in food imports over the years. This situation has proven beneficial for market fundamentalists but it has affected those advocating for a sustainable, eco-friendly and self-reliant economy. Nepal’s food imports were nominal until 2001. By the year 2021, the food import bill had surged by a staggering 78 times. This has highlighted a concerning trend of increased dependency on external food sources.

The author is associate professor of Political Sociology at Kathmandu University