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I am on a gap year after high school, and I refuse to study in Nepal. Before you dismiss this as privilege or unpatriotic, understand: I don’t want to leave because I want to, I am leaving because staying means accepting mediocrity.

Former Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli claimed Nepali students choose foreign universities “by will, not necessity.” This is a comfortable lie. Last year, 112,593 students received government permission to study abroad. Fewer than 1,000 attended top-ranked universities. The remaining 111,593 aren’t chasing Ivy League dreams—they’re fleeing a system that has abandoned them, packing their entire lives into suitcases because survival, not ambition, demands it.

Ask the right questions: Why do parents sacrifice decades of savings not for elite education, but for basic opportunity? Why do students choose debt in foreign countries over ‘free’ education at home? Why do education consultancies occupy Kathmandu’s most expensive real estate while government schools lack benches? The answer isn’t student choice. It’s a system failure. And this election, we must vote like our futures depend on it, because they do.

The trust deficit in Nepali education

When 112,593 Nepali students received government permission to study abroad in FY 2023/24, nearly half the country’s entire university enrollment, they weren't chasing prestige. They were fleeing dysfunction. Surveys reveal the core problems: outdated curricula focused on rote memorization rather than problem-solving, chronic faculty shortages driven by political appointments over merit, campuses closed for union strikes more often than exams, and infrastructure so weak that science students lack functioning laboratories. A telling statistic: 65 percent of study-abroad aspirants cite “better academic facilities” as their primary reason, but the deeper issue is trust. Nepali employers themselves view local degrees skeptically, placing even high-scoring MBA graduates in entry-level roles because they know what the credential represents. 

When your own universities cannot vouch for their graduates, when political parties control student unions and hiring decisions, when classrooms teach students to “crack tests, not solve real-world problems,” education becomes a charade. Students aren’t abandoning Nepal because foreign universities are slightly better. They’re leaving because staying means accepting a degree the market doesn’t respect, taught by faculty hired through connections rather than competence, in institutions that close for political rallies more than they open for research. This isn’t brain drain. It’s a rational escape from institutional collapse. 

While India sends over 1m students abroad annually, its 0.07 percent per capita rate suggests most return with skills. Nepal’s 0.37 percent rate is the highest among comparable nations. We’re losing proportionally five times more educated youth than India, nearly double Vietnam (0.20 percent), and six times more than the Philippines (0.06 percent).

China, despite 1.41bn people, maintains just 0.03 percent outflow because domestic universities now rival Western institutions. Bangladesh (0.05 percent) leveraged its garment industry into upward mobility. Their students return as entrepreneurs. Sri Lanka (0.15 percent), despite economic collapse, maintains stronger public universities. Even Pakistan (0.06 percent), facing political instability, invested in engineering schools that retain talent.

The pattern is clear. Countries investing in domestic education see lower outflow. Those that neglect it watch their brightest queue at consultancies. Our 110,000 annual departures from the 30m population means every extended family has someone abroad. When nearly two out of every 1,000 Nepalis leave annually (19 percent of tertiary-age cohort), we’re not experiencing brain drain. We’re witnessing structural collapse of faith in national institutions.

South Korea transformed from aid recipient to developed nation in one generation by making education the national obsession. If they could do it, why can’t we?

South Korea’s education miracle

South Korea’s transformation from $158 GDP per capita in 1960 to $33,000 by 2023 wasn’t luck. It was political will. Post-Korean War leaders made education the national obsession. They standardized a 6-3-3-4 schooling system, enforced compulsory middle school by 1985, and used lottery-based school assignments to eliminate inequality. When private tutoring threatened equity, they regulated it while maintaining universal access. By 2023, 71 percent of young Koreans held tertiary degrees, the OECD’s highest rate.

The lesson isn’t just policy. It’s leadership. Park Chung-hee, despite authoritarian flaws, treated education as infrastructure, not charity. He built 20,000 classrooms by 1967 because he understood that factories need educated workers. Singapore followed the same playbook, spending 4.5 percent of GDP on merit-based streaming systems, achieving 100 percent secondary enrollment and $82,000 GDP per capita. Taiwan focused on vocational training post-1960, creating the semiconductor talent pool that now powers global tech.

Nepal spends 4.2 percent of GDP on education, below UNESCO’s six percent standard, yet no major party has released a comprehensive education manifesto this election. South Korea proved education delivers 10-15 percent ROI in development. Their leaders chose textbooks over rhetoric. Ours choose highways over human capital. The question isn’t whether Nepal can replicate Korea’s miracle. It’s whether our politicians have the courage to try.

Before you vote, look at your younger sibling studying for SLC. Look at your nephew who dreams of engineering but whose school lacks lab equipment. Ask yourself: what do they actually need?

They need universities where politics stays outside. They need education as public service, not private business. They need research funding so students don’t flee Nepal to run experiments. They need startup culture as normalized as ragging is in medical colleges, as common as alcohol seems in engineering hostels.

Right now, entrepreneurship is a hobby. Research is a luxury. Education is a transaction. Politics controls every hiring decision. Bring one question to rallies: “What is your education plan, and how will you fund it?” Don’t accept “we prioritize youth.” Demand specifics. Will you increase spending to six percent? Remove political appointments? Fund research? Build labs? When?

Post their answers. Vote for plans, not slogans. South Korea’s leaders chose textbooks over rhetoric. If we demand it, ours can too. Your vote decides whether your siblings build futures here or pack them in suitcases.

The latest electoral data from Nepal reveals a profound demographic shift that is reshaping the nation’s political landscape. While the country has historically been governed by a ‘senior guard’, a new wave of political representation is emerging, characterized by a sharp divide between the voting and candidacy patterns of the youth and the elderly. This generational disconnect suggests that while established parties like the Nepali Congress (NC), CPN-UML, and Nepali Communist Party (NCP) maintain institutional loyalty among seniors, the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) has effectively monopolized the aspirations of the younger generation.

For the first time in recent history, the ‘under 30’ demographic has found a singular political home. The RSP has positioned itself as the primary vehicle for youth participation, fielding 17 individuals. In a surprising show of grassroots youth engagement, the Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party follows with 14 individuals under 30. 

This stands in stark contrast to the UML, which has managed to field only three, and the Nepali Congress, which remarkably has zero representation in this youngest category. Other parties like the Rastriya Prajatantra Party (seven individuals), CPN (Maoist) (four individuals) and NCP (one individual) show minor engagement. Smaller entities like the Shram Sanskriti Party (seven), Ujyalo Nepal Party (nine) round out the group, but the data suggests that for the GenZ demographic, the RSP is the primary attraction.

As we move into the 31 to 40-year-old demographic, the RSP reaches its peak influence with a massive 53 individuals. This is the highest concentration of talent for the party and signals a strong grip on the young-adult workforce. This age group also sees a significant surge from the Ujyalo Nepal Party with 33 individuals, the CPN (Maoist) with 36, and the Shram Sanskriti Party with 31. Interestingly, even in this energetic age bracket, the traditional ‘big two’ remain largely absent, with the UML fielding only 10 and the NC only nine. The NCP shows a slightly higher involvement here with 18 candidates, while the RPP fields 26 and the Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party maintains 19.

The 41 to 50 age bracket serves as the ultimate competitive melting pot, where almost all parties show their most balanced numbers. The NCP holds the highest number here with 61 candidates, followed closely by the RSP with 51 individuals. They are joined at the top by the CPN (Maoist) and the Shram Sanskriti Party, both of which have exactly 50 individuals. The RPP also shows its strength here with 44 individuals. It is only at this stage—the mid-40s—that the NC (39) and UML (36) begin to see their numbers rise, suggesting that their recruitment pipelines favor those who have ‘paid their dues’ over several decades. Other notable presences in this middle bracket include the Ujyalo Nepal (29), and Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party (38).

The power dynamic shifts entirely once we cross the 50-year threshold. In the 51 to 60 age group, the CPN-UML records the single highest number in the entire dataset with 71 individuals, followed closely by the Nepali Congress with 67 and the RPP with 51. The NCP remains a significant force with 47 candidates. Meanwhile, the RSP begins to dip with 41 individuals, and the CPN (Maoist) drops to 28. In this bracket, the Ujyalo Nepal (25) and Nepal Majdur Kishan Party (38) maintain steady numbers, but this group clearly represents the ‘power center’ of the established parties, where organizational experience is most highly valued.

Finally, the 61 and above category cements the divide. The Nepali Congress leads the seniors with 50 individuals, followed by the CPN-UML with 44, NCP with 37, and the RPP with 35. In a sharp reversal of the youth trend, the newer parties are almost non-existent among the elderly. The CPN (Maoist) has 12, the Ujyalo Nepal has eight, and the Shram Sanskriti Party has six. Most notably, the RSP has a mere two individuals in this senior group. 

This data paints a final picture of a nation split by time: a youth-led movement is rising from the bottom, while the traditional guard continues to hold the fort from the top.

Citizens of the United Kingdom and Canada can now enter China without a visa starting Tuesday, according to AP. The move brings the total number of eligible countries to 79. The policy aims to boost tourism and business ties.

AP reported that visitors can stay for up to 30 days. The visa-free entry covers travel for business, tourism, exchange programs and family visits. Most European nations already qualify under the scheme.

Citizens of countries such as the United States and Indonesia can enter China for up to 10 days if they are in transit. They must hold onward tickets to a third country. The broader policy has expanded significantly over the past two years.

The addition of the UK and Canada follows recent visits by Prime Ministers Keir Starmer and Mark Carney. Both leaders are seeking to improve relations with Beijing after several years of strained ties.

For most countries, the visa-free arrangement is set to expire at the end of this year. However, Chinese authorities have extended similar policies in the past.

ByteDance has pledged to curb its AI video tool Seedance after legal threats from Disney. The move follows complaints from several Hollywood studios over alleged copyright infringement. Seedance’s latest version has gone viral for its realistic clips.

According to Reuters, Disney sent a cease-and-desist letter accusing ByteDance of using a “pirated library” of copyrighted characters. These include figures from Marvel and Star Wars. Disney’s lawyers described the alleged action as a “virtual smash-and-grab” of intellectual property.

ByteDance said it respects intellectual property rights and is strengthening safeguards. The company did not give details on what measures it plans to introduce. It had earlier paused the option allowing users to upload images of real people.

Reuters reported, the Motion Picture Association demanded the tool immediately stop infringing activities. SAG-AFTRA accused Seedance of blatant infringement, while Paramount Skydance reportedly sent its own legal notice.

The controversy adds to wider tensions between AI firms and the entertainment industry. Last year, Disney and NBCUniversal sued Midjourney over copyright claims. Meanwhile, Disney has a $1 billion deal with OpenAI to use selected characters on its AI platforms.