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Nepal should reconsider its long-standing practice of appointing ministers from sitting MPs. Such changes are not just desirable—they are inevitable—given the mounting evidence of political instability if the country is to preserve the integrity of its parliamentary system and respond to growing public discontent. The Constitution of Nepal also allows for the selection of ministers from among MPs, and requires those appointed from outside parliament to secure membership within six months.

Corruption, patronage politics and weak legislative scrutiny have also increased as the country grapples with an alarming increase in election spending. Once MPs become ministers, they become entangled in the executive branch, reducing their ability and willingness to hold the government accountable. Moreover, since political positions are viewed as investments rather than responsibilities, the lure of ministerial appointments encourages excessive spending on parliamentary election campaigns.

In light of these anomalies, it is time to rethink this constitutional arrangement. Barring members of the House of Representatives from assuming ministerial positions would create a clear separation of powers, reduce political conflicts of interest and discourage the monetization of elections. Appointing ministers from outside parliament based on expertise and merit is the need of the hour. Doing so can help strengthen governance and restore citizens’ trust in Nepal’s democratic institutions.

A vicious cycle

Nepal’s elections are so expensive that only those with the support of wealthy or powerful donors can compete effectively. According to reports, despite our low GDP and per capita income, Nepal’s elections are estimated to be 147 times more expensive than those in neighboring India. Candidates for the 2022 general election have been reported to have taken on large amounts of personal debt or relied on opaque funding sources.

This financial burden does not end with victory. Elected members of the House of Representatives, who are deeply in debt from campaigns funded by private donations, often view ministerial appointments as a way to make up for the shortfall. Ministerial positions come with significant perks—salaries, allowances, and influence over budgets and contracts—that can be used for personal gains. When donors, often businesses or contractors, expect policy favors or government tenders, the stage is set for institutionalized corruption.

Corruption would be reduced if members of the House of Representatives were barred from becoming ministers. The parliamentary role alone reduces the opportunities for recovering the financial investments made in elections. Instead, candidates can focus on policy and public service, potentially reducing overall election costs through greater transparency and public financing reforms advocated by experts.

Erosion of accountability

Corruption in Nepal is not just an aberration but a systemic scourge that permeates every level of government. Transparency International’s 2024 Corruption Perceptions Index gave Nepal a dismal score of 34 out of 100, ranking it 100th out of 180 countries globally.

Political scandals abound. Senior politicians have been implicated in scams such as the fake Bhutanese refugee scam. In 2025 alone, more than a dozen high-profile cases involving former prime ministers and ministers in corruption came to light. These cases were at the center of the GenZ protests earlier this year. They exposed decades of systemic decay.

Appointing members of the House of Representatives as ministers exacerbates this by blurring the lines between the legislature and the executive, weakening the separation of powers necessary for checks and balances. This leads to incomplete separation, legislative flip-flopping and democratic unaccountability.

Parliament’s oversight and monitoring role is weakened when MPs play a dual role as ministers. Who checks on this when members of the executive are also legislators? This creates fertile ground for corruption. Ministers can influence resource allocations, agreements and policies without strong parliamentary oversight.

The legislature could reclaim its role as a watchdog by reserving ministerial positions for technocrats or experts from outside parliament.

In Nepal, this could disrupt the “vicious cycle” where high election costs push politicians into ministerial positions for corrupt gains, as noted in the analysis of campaign finance.

A path forward

The recent youth protests that forced a change of government in less than 28 hours on charges of corruption signal a public mandate for systemic change.

The political upheaval reflects a powerful public demand for deep, structural reforms. This uprising has exposed a critical truth that Nepal’s democratic institutions can no longer function effectively under the old structures that reward money, favoritism and power-brokers in public service.

In this context, the proposal to bar members of the House of Representatives (HoR) from appointing ministers is not an attack on the parliamentary system but a step toward strengthening it. Such a reform would encourage political parties to elect parliamentarians who are truly committed to their legislative duties, while also enabling the formation of an executive.

Implementing this reform may ultimately require constitutional amendments to formalize the separation of legislative and executive responsibilities. Prioritizing non-parliamentarians in cabinet formation and making appointments based on merit could initiate positive change through political practice.

Nepal can no longer sustain a system where skyrocketing election costs and widespread corruption reinforce each other. By clearly separating membership in the House of Representatives from ministerial ambitions, the country must remove financial incentives that distort democratic competition. This can strengthen accountability and rebuild trust in public institutions. The Election Commission and the interim government must recognize the urgency of reform. They must act decisively for the nation’s democratic future. Otherwise, another wave of citizen-led opposition may begin.

The Election Commission (EC) has notified that it will register voters till Nov 21. The date has been extended in response to a request from Prime Minister Sushila Karki in view of the heavy turnout of voters for registration. Despite the two-shift registration of voters, long queues for registration may be due to the apathy of the EC at the time of annual updating of voter list by including eligible voters seriously on the one hand and the apathy among the voters toward registration, on the other. 

It is worth mentioning here that previously for a citizen to get his name registered in the voter list he had to submit only his citizenship certificate, which was provided by the District Administration Office and that was done at the village level itself. The introduction of the new system of giving biometric data at the District Election Office (DEO) for registration has discouraged many eligible voters. A majority of the voters, who are out of their native places for jobs, education and other purposes, do not prefer to visit the DEO to register themselves by visiting the DEO, which means a certain disruption in their daily schedule.  

Sadly, a citizen has to visit the district headquarters three times, first, for obtaining citizenship certificate, then for voter registration and lastly for getting the National Identity Card. Interestingly, if biometric data are obtained at the time of issuing the citizenship certificate, a citizen has no need to visit the district headquarters time and again.  

If the government introduces a law to address this issue, it will reduce the government expenses by at least 66 percent by curtailing unnecessary staff engaged in this task. At the time, the citizens will get some relief as they won’t have to undertake a strenuous journey to the district headquarters, especially in the hilly and high mountain religions. 

Like many other countries, there are two types of migrant voters in Nepal. First, those who are migrant workers working outside the country. Their number is anticipated to be 5-6m leaving apart about 2m voters living in India. The second type of voters are internal migrants whose number is also believed to be about 1-1.5m. 

A significant number of such voters include those who are registered but are unable to vote at the fixed place, date and time. The data show that out of a 30m population only 18.2m voters are registered and with the latest addition it will reach 18.5m. Interestingly, out of 18.2m voters, hardly 12.5m voters cast their votes and about 0.6m of these votes become invalid. Most of the internal migrant voters do not  cast their votes, explaining, in part, the poor turnout of voters. Since the EC has agreed to use biometric data from the National Certificate issuing office for registering the names, there is heavy rush of voters for registration.

Given this context, I humbly suggest some changes for increasing voting participation of GenZ and migrant workers abroad.

The EC has been authorized to hold polling in several phases (as per Clause 6.3 of the HoR  Election Act, 2017). It entails that it can advance partial voting as well, as per practice of several countries. It is called ‘advance voting’, ‘absent voting’and  ‘external voting, etc. If the EC decides, it can keep voting days open from the date symbols are distributed to the candidates, at least two days ahead of voting day (March 5) for those migrant workers who happen to be in the country during these 15 days, i.e, during the campaign period. The migrant workers won’t have to wait for March 5 to cast their votes. Even if it facilitates a few, that will create history for a democratic Nepal.

More significantly, it will facilitate those GenZ, who are in Kathmandu and other places inside the country in thousands, for their studies and all other purposes, together with the general voters who cannot vote in their home constituency being far away for different purposes. They can also cast their votes for their home constituencies. 

Those allowed to vote for the proportional representation (PR) segment have really been reduced to a status of 40 percent voters. If they can vote for their home constituency also, they will be 100 percent voters, as PR is meant for choosing a party and not the individual candidate. 

The PR segment is for ensuring 33 percent representation of women in the House of Representatives. Thus, it has become a women’s representation segment. This will also help those officials and staff engaged in voting management far away from their home constituencies.

This may revolutionize the voting pattern of the country. Of course, the EC has to get the ballot papers printed within a week by not depending solely on the Janak Educational Material Centre but also on other governmental and private printing presses by adhering to usual security measures.

The author is former election commissioner

In today’s world, mobile phones have become more than just a means of talking to one another—they have become an inseparable part of our daily lives. According to the National Census Report of 2022, about 73.2 percent of Nepalis now own a mobile phone, while only 4.5 percent still use a landline. This shift tells an interesting story: nearly three out of every five people in the country have mobile access. It’s a remarkable step toward the vision of a Digital Nepal.

This widespread use of mobile phones has changed how people stay connected. Families, friends and communities can now share information and emotions instantly, bridging physical distances and strengthening social ties. Mobile phones have become tools of connection.

However, the same technology that keeps us connected also plays a key role in crime investigation. With mobile phones nearly in every hand, police and other law enforcement agencies have found new ways to track down suspects and gather evidence of crime.

The Call Detail Records (CDRs) provide a wealth of information—numbers dialed, call duration and timestamps—that help investigators to find the accused or the victim’s movement, communication patterns and even possible intentions. In many cases, these records become crucial in identifying the sequence of events, the intent, planning and execution of a crime/offense.

Constitutional scenario 

The Constitution of Nepal prohibits the enactment of any law or order that undermines fundamental freedoms and constitutional values. Article 19(3) stipulates that the means of communication cannot be obstructed except by law. Article 28 guarantees the right to privacy concerning one’s body, residence, property, documents and communications. The Individuals’ Right to Privacy Act, 2018, under Section 11 and 25, empowers investigating agencies to collect personal information during the investigation of an offense with authorization from a court or some other appropriate authority. This Act seeks to strengthen the right to privacy; however, its provisions clarify that privacy is not absolute and may be restricted during criminal investigations by the police. 

Article 20 further provides that no defendant shall be compelled to testify against themselves and that they have the right to be informed of the actions taken against them.

Criminal laws 

Though Nepal lacks an independent law specifically governing CDRs, multiple laws—including the Right to Privacy Act, 2075; Narcotic Drugs Act; Telecommunication Act, 2053; and the Electronic Transaction Act, 2063—have provided the legal basis for collecting individuals’ data during criminal investigations. 

The Nepal Telecommunications Authority (NTA) directs telecommunication service providers to archive call records for at least one year. The NTA also instructs service providers to furnish CDRs to investigating authorities upon a court order.

Section 10A of the Narcotic Drug (Control) Act, 2033 authorizes investigating agencies to collect phone records and other communication details of any person under investigation. A similar legal provision is found in Section 18 of the Organized Crime (Prevention) Act, 2070, which empowers investigators to obtain communication data for crime control purposes.

The Telecommunications Act, 2053, under Section 19, empowers the government to tap telephones or obtain call details of any individual when deemed necessary under the law.

Further, the Guidelines Relating to Access to Justice (Procedure), 2074, adopted by the Supreme Court of Nepal, entrusts district courts with the authority to regulate the procedure for obtaining call details. Section 4 of the guidelines requires the investigating officer to submit copies of the First Information Report (FIR) or Police Report, along with other relevant documents, when seeking court permission to access a person’s call details. Section 7 provides that the police or any other investigating authority may request the court for access to information such as location, SMS, CDRs, user details, SIM user and location, call-wise location, IP address and internet activity logs, among other details. Section 11 stipulates that the district judge’s decision in this regard shall be final.

In Advocate Baburam Aryal v Government of Nepal (NKP 2074, Part 59, Decision No. 9740), the Supreme Court held that obtaining call or SMS details without legal authorization is unlawful. The court emphasized that while criminal investigations may rely on CDRs, such actions must strictly adhere to the procedures prescribed by law and order.

Section 297 of the National Criminal Code, 2017 prohibits the interception or recording of another person’s telephone conversation without proper authorization or consent. Violation of this provision is punishable by up to two years’ imprisonment or a fine of up to NPR 20,000 or both. Section 299 prohibits deceitful telephone calls or transmitting messages. It provides that a person who commits such an offense shall be liable to a sentence of imprisonment for a term not exceeding two years or a fine not exceeding twenty thousand rupees or both. 

Global precedent 

In India, Section 63 of the Bharatiya Sakshya Adhiniyam, 2023 [Indian Evidence Act, 2023] provides that magistrates have the authority to permit or deny the collection of CDR information.

In China, there is no requirement for a judicial order to obtain CDR information. The legal framework does not recognize the concept of a warrant, and security personnel have the authority to detain individuals or demand CDRs directly.

In Japan, CDRs are obtained by investigating agencies only upon the order of judicial officials, ensuring judicial oversight in the process.

Way forward 

The CDRs are a valuable tool for understanding networks, as they reveal who called whom, how frequently and for how long. They help uncover criminal networks and associates, playing a crucial role in tracking the whereabouts of suspects, defendants and their accomplices.

Despite their importance, an independent legislation dealing with CDRs is still due in Nepal. There is scope for amending the National Criminal Procedure Code to formally incorporate a mechanism for the lawful collection and use of CDRs in investigations.

In most classrooms across Nepal, you won’t see children with diverse learning needs, not because they don’t exist, but because they’ve been made invisible. Undiagnosed, unsupported, and excluded, these children are left behind long before the first lesson begins.

I first glimpsed this invisibility as a child myself. At around ten years old, I was once waiting for results at an inter-school dance competition when a group of children from a school for the intellectually challenged performed. One of the girls left the stage and walked directly up to me, her face just inches from mine, and asked my name.

I wasn’t wary of her. I was scared of doing the wrong thing. Of saying something hurtful. Of not knowing how to respond. No one had ever talked to me about intellectual disability. No one had prepared me for what to do or how to simply be with someone who moved, spoke, or behaved differently. So I stood there, paralyzed.

Today, as a school leader trying to build inclusive classrooms in a deeply non-inclusive system, I understand that moment differently. It wasn’t just my discomfort, it was society’s silence. Our schools, our homes, and our media had never acknowledged children like her. That silence has hardened into systemic neglect.

More and more children with diverse learning needs are entering our classrooms. But they are still misunderstood, often mislabeled as lazy, disruptive, or incapable. The lucky few who are identified are either nudged out of mainstream schools or left unsupported within them, trapped in a system never designed to recognize their potential.

Globally, around 10-15 percent of children are estimated to have specific learning disabilities such as dyslexia, dysgraphia, or dyscalculia. Neurodevelopmental conditions like ADHD and autism affect an additional 4-10 percent. UNICEF reports that 12.5 percent of children aged 5-17 worldwide have moderate to severe disabilities that impact their access to learning. In Nepal, the numbers are even more stark. A national study found that over 35 percent of children aged 3-4 showed signs of developmental delay, particularly in areas of literacy and social-emotional development. While official disability data remains limited and often under-reported (ranging from 1.6 percent to 14 percent depending on the source), these figures highlight the widespread and urgent need for support systems that go far beyond current efforts.

Nepal’s Constitution, in Article 31, guarantees every citizen the right to education, explicitly committing to equitable access. It calls for education to be brought “within reach of all” and to create “equal opportunities for all.” Building on this, the Inclusive Education Policy of 2016 affirms that every child has the right to study in an inclusive, dignified environment. The policy assigns clear responsibilities to national bodies like the Curriculum Development Center and the National Examination Board, mandating the development of accessible curricula, resources, and assessment systems.

These are commendable commitments. But for educators on the ground, these policies often feel disconnected from reality. Ambiguity persists: Which needs are officially recognized? How are schools operationalizing inclusive education? Who ensures that teachers, counselors, and systems are ready to support this transformation?

Among the most visible barriers is Nepal’s standardized examination system. The Basic Level Examination (BLE) in Grade 8, the Secondary Education Examination (SEE) in Grade 10, and the School Leaving Certificate (SLC) in Grade 12 are all high-stakes assessments with rigid structures. Crucially, passing these exams is mandatory to move forward in the education system. But what about students who cannot pass, not due to lack of effort, but because of intellectual disabilities, neurodevelopmental conditions, or specific learning needs? These students are left without an option. The system treats academic performance as the sole indicator of worth and readiness, erasing the potential of those who learn differently.

The rigidity of these exams sits atop a shaky foundation. Schools lack access to trained professionals who can assess students, provide formal diagnoses, and participate in Individualized Education Plan (IEP) teams. In the absence of such expertise, educators are forced to make judgment calls they are neither trained nor authorized to make. To move forward, Nepal must invest in long-term solutions: teacher training programs focused on inclusive education, specialized university degrees in diverse learning needs and counseling, and ongoing parent education initiatives. 

There is also an urgent need for both national and local support systems staffed with experts in assessment, therapy, teacher and parent support, and school-based implementation to guide and empower schools.These systems must also include financial support for schools and families to access essential therapies, hire specialized teachers, and sustain meaningful inclusion. Without this comprehensive backing, inclusion remains aspirational rather than actionable.

Even when students are identified and supported in school, challenges remain in securing examination accommodations. The current policy requires requests to be submitted two months before the exam, yet in practice, schools often receive approval (or even information about the option) only a week before. This last-minute uncertainty discourages innovation and risks putting students in pedagogically unsound positions. Instead, the government should allow accommodations and modifications to be formally registered and approved as soon as a student’s needs are identified. This would allow schools to support the student throughout the year, not just in exams but in daily learning. Inclusion cannot be reactionary. It must be sustained and authentic.

Inclusion also requires flexibility in curriculum structure and certification. Some students could thrive with reduced subject loads. I currently work with a student with a language-based learning difficulty, for whom taking one language instead of multiple would make a world of difference. Yet the system doesn’t allow for this. We need an alternative School Leaving Certificate for such students that maintains the integrity of the curriculum but allows reduced subject requirements. Additionally, there must be a second type of certificate for students who require modified content entirely, for those whose cognitive development differs significantly from their biological age.

Crucially, these alternative certificates must carry the same procedural and social value as traditional ones. They must lead to further education and employment opportunities. Without this equivalency, these students remain excluded, their achievements undermined, and their futures jeopardized.

Beyond Grade 10, there must be guaranteed continuity of accommodations through Grade 12 and higher. And for those unable to pursue academic pathways, vocational programs must be introduced, not as a last resort, but as a dignified, valuable alternative. Every student must have a path to self-reliance and social inclusion.

Inclusion is not charity. It is not a favor. It is a right. If Nepal is sincere about its promise of equitable education, it must recognize that inclusive education is not about bringing children into the system as it exists but about reshaping the system itself. This means rethinking policies, retraining professionals, redesigning exams, funding resources, and most of all, re-framing our understanding of human potential.

The invisible students of our nation are not invisible by nature; they are made invisible by our inaction. And how we choose to respond today will define the kind of nation we become tomorrow.