Buried before we bloomed: The silent collapses of agriculture education in Nepal
I came here to grow. To learn. To lead. To bring life back into the soil. I thought agriculture would root me in purpose in people, in innovation, in change. But semester after semester, the only thing that’s truly growing is my frustration. Let me tell you what it’s really like to be an agriculture student in Nepal. The rotting truth that nobody wants to talk about.
When I entered our college what I found was a dying curriculum, tired teachers, empty labs, and a system that feels like it's forgotten us. We’re being taught from manuals written a decade ago. New knowledge? New technology? Nowhere in the syllabus. Precision farming, climate smart agriculture, vertical farming we hear these terms but never touch them. Our lab classes are dry theory on paper. The microscope is broken. The seeds are missing. The equipment is "coming next year." Always next year.
And our teachers when they’re here are often overworked. Some semesters, we don’t even get them. One teacher arrives, rushes through a six month course in two days, and then vanishes. We copy notes. Memorize slides, highlight sentences we don’t understand. Then we walk into exams like sheep heading for slaughter. Sit for practical exams that are anything but practical. Write definitions of tools we’ve never seen.
Time runs out. The course is never completed. Yet the exam arrives like a storm, and we’re left scrambling. Nobody teaches how to think, how to apply, how to survive. Just pass or fail. More than 70 percent of students fail repeatedly—and no one asks why.
There’s no mentorship. No industry linkage. No exposure. No internships. And every time we raise questions, we hear the same thing: “budget chaina.” They say they do not budget for basic learning, for upgraded classrooms, for the internet, for practical tools. But they have plenty of budget for events, speeches and elections. And the main thing for this is politics. Yes, politics poisons everything. Student parties dominate every corner of our campus life. If you’re not a member of some political group, you’re not getting on stage, you’re not leading any events, you’re not getting your name on any notice. And if you are, you get everything even if you haven’t earned it.
They say student unions are meant to protect us. What we see is power games. Vote campaigns. Threats. Fights that erupt into real violence. Heads get smashed. Classrooms get locked. And you’re either with them or invisible. Opportunities? Leadership roles? Exposure? Reserved for those in politics. The rest of us just survive. Sometimes, fights break out. Literal ones. Blood on campus floors. People hospitalized over student elections. And we call this education. We are silenced in the name of discipline. Told not to complain. Told this is how it’s always been. But we are tired. We are breaking down.
No one talks about the mental load we carry. The anxiety. The burnout. The breakdowns in hostel rooms. The pressure to succeed in a system designed to make you fail. The constant academic pressure, the humiliation of failing, the fear of asking questions, the silence in classrooms where curiosity once lived. Many of us are depressed. Many have panic attacks before results. But there is no counselor. No system. No one notices unless we collapse.
I am an agriculture student who once believed in change. I still do but not like this. I don’t want the juniors to walk this same road, only to lose their voice halfway. Because no student should come here full of life only to leave burnt out, bitter and broken. Admissions in agriculture campuses are declining year after year not because agriculture isn’t important, but because we’ve made it unbearable.
We wanted to grow. But this system is built to bury us. And unless something changes, more of us will keep withering in silence. To the system, we are not machines. We are not vote banks. We are not pages to be marked red for wrong answers you never bothered to teach us. We are not your failed harvest. We are the seeds of change. So stop burying us alive. We are students. We are the future of agriculture and we refuse to rot in silence.
The evolving nature of Teej
Teej, one of Nepal’s most vibrant and widely celebrated women-centered festivals, carries layers of meaning that change across generations. For some, it’s deeply spiritual, rooted in the devotion of Goddess Parvati and Lord Shiva, symbolizing faith, sacrifice, and family well-being. For others, it has grown into a celebration of sisterhood, self-expression, and women’s empowerment, reflecting the changing roles and choices of women in society. ApEx spoke to three women to know what they think of the tradition of fasting, prayer, and devotion; balancing rituals with personal freedom, cultural pride, and modern values.
Jyoti Adhikari, 64
Teej is a festival dedicated to Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati, celebrating Parvati’s devotion and penance to unite with Shiva. Traditionally, it symbolizes unmarried women’s desire for an ideal husband through faith and devotion, and married women’s prayers for their husbands’ well-being through fasting. However, modern celebrations often emphasize outward rituals—feasting, dressing up, and socializing—over the spiritual essence. While Teej fosters joy and togetherness, practices like women refraining from food or drinking water from their husbands’ feet raise concerns about gender equality. Ideally, Teej should promote love, mutual respect, devotion to God, and women’s dignity, aligning with the true purpose of festivals: to inspire joy, unity, and moral values in society.
Kavyashree Adhikari, 24
For me, Teej isn’t just about rituals but also about togetherness, meeting friends, reflecting on the importance of Lord Shiva, and sometimes observing fasts depending on my health and situation. We live in a male-dominated society and, since ancient times, traditions have been shaped and narrated largely from men’s perspectives. Teej has always been supported but rarely highlighted or valued as much as male-centered festivals. The essence of devotion and cultural bonding is there, yet in some cases, it has become more about show rather than meaning. However, positive changes are also happening. People today are more health-conscious, and many women celebrate in ways that suit their well-being. For instance, in earlier days, my mother would scold me if I ate anything during Teej. Today, no one can force such practices upon us. Women celebrate it in ways that feel right to them, balancing devotion with personal choice. This shows that while Teej carries tradition, it’s also evolving with modern values.
Rachana Kharel, 29
Teej is a celebration of sisterhood and femininity. I feel a deep joy seeing women enjoy Teej in their own ways. Even though I don’t celebrate it, witnessing their happiness feels like a personal win and, in a way, it has healed me. Teej is one of the few women-centered festivals, yet it’s often sidelined in male conversations. This is exactly because society still undervalues women’s joy, dismissing singing, dancing, and celebration as ‘misusing freedom and power women have received.’ So Teej to me feels like a form of self-expression and reclaiming space. It reminds us that women’s voices and happiness deserve to be central in our cultural dialogue. Teej is no longer about blind rituals but women are redefining it as a celebration of freedom, bonding, and unapologetic joy. In a world where traditions often confine us in, Teej now feels like a reminder that we get to decide what womanhood means. It’s evolving into a festival of bonding, joy, and owning one’s femininity in whichever way feels right. Holding onto outdated customs that limit us isn’t honoring tradition; it’s holding women back. Teej must evolve with us, or it risks becoming irrelevant.
Citizens’ deliberation for a safe AI
Starting on 3 Nov 2017, the Université de Montréal, a premier higher education institution in North America and beyond, initiated an ambitious journey that involved hundreds of citizens that came together to discuss Artificial Intelligence.
In partnership with multiple stakeholders including the provincial and local governments and academic think tanks including the prestigious Mila—Quebec AI Institute, the goal of this exercise was ambitious and pioneering at the same time: defining the key ethical principles who should drive the development of AI.
Through multiple sessions covering different topics and themes, around 500 participants started discussing broad ranging ethical principles that should always be at the foundations of any discourse on AI. The whole undertaking was defined as a “collective”, an informal initiative where associations, think tanks, government agencies, academic institutions and citizens come together to discuss and deliberate on one of the most daunting topics of our society.
We are talking of an unprecedented technology with untapped potential that, at the same time, carries enormous risks. The shift towards an AI centered economy, if not properly and adequately managed could trigger tectonic consequences that can be devastating.
Nepal recently approved its first ever AI Policy. This is, without questions, an important milestone for the country but from here, where to go? How to ensure that this new document will be different from other policies that, almost by default, always struggle to get implemented? The new policy envisions also a set of new institutions like an AI Regulation Council and a National AI Center.
A new AI-driven and centered governance is being shaped but will these institutions be effective, meaningful and, importantly, inclusive? Will experts and citizens alike be enabled and allowed to participate beyond the usual tokenistic approaches? Like for climate change, our societies are utterly unprepared for what might happen with an unregulated AI.
As I wrote in this column a few weeks ago advocating for a new set of multi-stakeholder governance that can address the challenges of climate warming, I do believe that an emerging nation like Nepal that aspires to become a lower middle income economy over the next decade, must be prepared. Both challenges, climate and AI, will test the resilience of our systems.
Certainly, more developed and industrialized nations will have to face more daring times, especially in relation to the shocks their economies might suffer from a race to the bottom in which corporations will cut their work-force and rely more on AI agents. In both cases, the resilience of our political systems, especially in democratic settings like the ones Nepal is enjoying, could come under stress.
We are already aware of the risks associated with waves of social media driven waves of misinformation and disinformation. These problems are going to be further magnified by AI. That’s why we need to talk about a Just Transition, an important element of the climate discourse, also for the rollout of AI, ensuring that no one is left behind, including the most vulnerable classes.
Frankly speaking, the concept of leaving no one behind might be way too timid for a future dominated AI. Actually, the risks posed by the AI are more about crashing and rolling over millions of people rather than leaving them behind. In order to be able to tackle a potentially devastating scenario, the Institute for Human-Centered Artificial Intelligence based at Stanford University, has come up with a series of important research papers inspired by what the Founding Fathers of the American republic had done with the Federalist Papers.
Entitled the Digitalist Papers, the contributions, written by renown luminaries from across different disciplines, offer insights and suggestions to ensure that AI systems can, as Dario Amodei explained in a powerful essay, “Machines of Loving Grace”, be capable of doing incredible and so far unthinkable things for the benefits of humanity.
Amodei, the CEO and co-founder of Anthropic, is one of those sector leaders who are the most aware of the potential downside of an unrestricted, unethical turbocharging of AI systems. Among these essays that are aimed at rethinking America’s social compact and strengthening its democratic political systems in such a way that it can thrive in an era of AI, Lawrence Lessing, a legal scholar at Harvard Law School, penned “Protected Democracy”.
In an era where democracies are already being tested and are showing deep cracks in the system, Lessing calls for forums where citizens can discuss and deliberate without any undue influence and undeterred by the polarization that already is eroding the trust in democracies. He proposes the establishment of forms of “protected democracy” based on citizens being able to come together, discuss and deliberate based on reasons and facts. “Democratic choice requires participants engaging on the basis of a common understanding of a common set of facts. We already don’t have that; AI will give us even less” he wrote.
“We live now in an unprotected democracy. As we come to our views about what is to be done and who is to be supported, we are exposed to information by a media that has an agenda unrelated to crafting collective, coherent understanding”. Lessing thinks of citizens’ assemblies as forms of “protected assemblies”.
The risks associated with AI can derail the democratic fabric of the United States of America due to its power to further polarize the society by spreading misinformation, disinformation and overall turbocharging orchestrated campaigns of maligned political influence. It will also widen the equality gap because AI systems will be controlled by a miniscule group of powerful interests, a combination of political and economic actors within a few nations.
Lessing concludes,”We, as a people, are thus increasingly vulnerable politically to the effect of AI.” While the Digitalist Papers are focused on America, also developing nations, especially democracies like Nepal, must be prepared. That’s why it is important to start a conversation in a very structured fashion on how AI can shape the future development trajectories that Nepal is striving to achieve.
Deliberative democracy, a topic I often cover in my pieces, can truly make the difference in involving and engaging the people, especially the young ones, in a future where AI will increasingly play a significant role. Slowly the effects of AI systems that potentially might not be completely under human control whose outcomes cannot be understood (the problem of interpretability), will also be felt here in Nepal.
This is not a dystopian scenario but the phase in which AI reaches the level of Artificial General Intelligence, AGI that equals and exceeds human capacities, is not far from now. AGI will be the biggest scientific breakthrough that, as fascinating and as potentially scary as it will be, will represent a steppingstone for a further giant jump, the arrival of an inevitable superintelligence akin to what we watch now in the movies.
Internationally, there have been also discussions to create a Global Citizens Assembly focused on AI. ISWE Foundation, a leader in the promotion of transnational models of citizens’ deliberation, together with Connected by Data, has already conducted some studies. Can also the policy makers of Nepal imagine similar initiatives in which the people are empowered to first understand and second to decide how AI could be developed?
Because of its young generations who thrive in the digital world, Nepal could stop being a slow mover that just simply copycats the best practices. While it would be silly not to learn from the experiences matured by the major developed economies in the field of AI, Nepal must also take the lead. From a late adapter, the country could become a trailblazer at least in terms of showing the world that is doing its homework to lay down a pathway to harness AI for the benefit of its people.
On 4 Dec 2018, after a year of intensive debate, amid the cold of Quebec’s winter, the Montréal Declaration for a Responsible Development of Artificial Intelligence was endorsed. Its ten principles are centered on well-being, respect for autonomy, protection of privacy and intimacy, solidarity, democratic participation, equity, diversity inclusion, prudence, responsibility and lastly sustainable development. The declaration is a blueprint to guide any nation trying to develop a safe and secure AI framework.
It was a truly pioneer document that ensured some basic forms of legitimacy because citizens ‘participation was a key cornerstone to the whole initiative. Interestingly as a collective, the stakeholders involved in facilitating the discussions also conducted other activities including research and educational training on AI and human rights.
How will AI help transform Nepal? Will the country be able to gain from this new technology while minimizing its side effects or will the nation continue to blindly follow others without any homework? For AI to be a WIN WIN in the country, let’s involve and engage its citizens. The AI policy that the federal government just approved is important but the way it will be executed will be even more crucial.
Why Nepal must invest in science
When I was growing up in Kathmandu, science often felt distant and confined to textbooks. We memorized the contents for exams and conducted experiments in the labs with limited resources. We rarely talk about how we apply science in our daily lives, and the significance of scientific research in the advancement of the nation.
Today, as a PhD student in the United States, I see that gap more clearly than ever. A few months ago, I got an opportunity to visit the US Capitol in Washington, DC, to meet with the lawmakers as part of the science advocacy effort. During the visit, I talked about the necessity of investing in scientific research and how that is connected to better health and stronger societies. It was a surreal moment for someone who began an academic journey in Nepal. But more importantly, it made me understand how much Nepal can gain if we start valuing scientific research as part of our national development plan.
As I shared my journey as an international student from Nepal to the United States and my research on gut microbiota and high blood pressure with the staff of the lawmakers at Capitol Hill, they were all ears. I basically emphasized how investment in science can create not only opportunities for students like me, but it fuels discoveries that benefit people worldwide by finding solutions to problems that affect global health. What struck me the most was how the staff members listened attentively and promised to brief the lawmakers on our conversation regarding the inevitability of sustained investment in scientific research.
So why does this matter in the context of Nepal?
It is because the challenges Nepal is facing are directly connected to science.
Take health, for example. Hypertension or high blood pressure and diabetes are common pressing issues that affect almost every household in Nepal. Thousands of people lose their lives to these conditions every year. It is not only shortening the lives of people but also burdening the family. Research can help us understand why these conditions are rising in Nepal and give us an idea to develop affordable and effective treatment strategies and prevent future incidence.
Or consider climate change. Nepal is on the frontline of its impacts. Floods and landslides are increasing, and air pollution in the major cities always exceeds the safe limits. These conditions affect our livelihood, economy, food and health systems, so they demand scientific solutions. We cannot be fully prepared to face these challenges by relying on foreign studies, which may not fully reflect Nepal’s geography and social structure. We need to have a culture of supporting scientific ideas and promoting national research.
This is where advocacy comes into play. Advocacy is not always about meeting with the members of parliament or government officials. It is about communicating science, which is understandable to everyone, and making the science visible. It could also mean explaining and communicating scientific ideas via articles, blog posts, podcasts or through videos in a layman’s language to the public, students and leaders. All these actions should reflect the importance of scientific research. Advocacy also includes visiting schools and colleges to inspire young minds, organizing science fairs or festivals and events. It could also mean urging the policymakers to stop seeing scientific research investment as an expense but a crucial requirement in the development of health, education and the national economy. The more openly we talk about science, research, and policy, the better prepared we become in addressing challenges that hold back scientific progress.
On the bus ride back from Capitol Hill, I realized that scientific progress is often undervalued in Nepal. We still depend upon neighboring countries to import basic kits for research activities. We need to support national entrepreneurs to invest in developing research tools in their home country, so the budding scientists do not have to wait for months to get access to the research tools.
Our universities and schools are full of talented students and researchers, but without sufficient resources, funding, advocacy and support, meaning their talent hardly reaches the public or policymakers. We must value scientific research by supporting young scientists, funding local research projects and ensuring that scientific research outcomes are regularly discussed with the public and policymakers.
Through my own journey, I have come to believe that speaking up for science is as important as doing science. Through the American Physiological Society’s Early-career Advocacy Fellowship, I have been committed to strengthening my advocacy efforts, designing advocacy tools and writing for the public to become a long-term advocate for scientific research. Beyond this fellowship, I am writing science blog articles, visiting high schools to demonstrate science experiments and serving as a science fair judge. These experiences have deepened my belief that science belongs to all, not just to those who wear lab coats.
Science is not distant. It is in the medicines that save lives, the clean water that keeps us healthy and the policies that protect us from floods and pollution. Whether in the halls of the US Capitol or the classrooms of Kathmandu, the message is the same: science matters. If we are to meet the challenges of tomorrow as a nation, we must start advocating for and investing in research today.



