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Among the 10-point agreement signed by the representatives of the GenZ and the Federal Government, one of the most exciting is the creation of the GenZ Council.

Setting up such a body offers the biggest opportunity to establish a more direct, participatory and deliberative form of democracy in the country, enabling the new generations of citizens to have a direct say in how Nepal is run. But it is going to be vital to design this new body in the right way, ensuring that this will be an institution that is effective and meaningful rather than being tokenistic.

First off, let’s start with what the GenZ Council should not aspire to become. The country already has the National Youth Council that is neither particularly effective nor truly representative. To be fair, this body was never intended to become a platform to give youths a voice and amplify their demands.

Rather, it was created to promote youth empowerment through programs and initiatives. This is why the GenZ Council should demark and distinguish itself and should resemble a chamber or assembly, a permanent forum for discussions and deliberations by the youths and for the youths of the nation.

Therefore, it would be much more appropriate to design it as a “GenZ Assembly”, an institution that cannot only complement but also strengthen the current parliamentary system in place. Ideally, this new body should embrace key principles of deliberative democracy where citizens rather than just those elected have a real say.

For this reason, the GenZ Council should free itself from the cumbersome burden of elective politics. As we do know, liberal democracy based on elections has a lot of problematic issues and must be supported by more direct forms of deliberative mechanisms. Consequently, it is also important that the new GenZ Council shuns party politics. Its members would be individual youths acting and importantly, deliberating on their own, without any political affiliation.

But what does the word “deliberation” mean in the context of GenZ Council? To start with, we are not talking about binding deliberations. Deliberations can be seen as detailed propositions that, following a rigorous process of debate based on expertise and knowledge, would be voted by the members of the council. Ensuring that voting will only happen after a clear process of logical discussions is paramount.

How could this work in practice? Let’s take as an example, a possible deliberative process around the pros and cons of lowering the minimum marriageable age. Each member of the GenZ Council would have the right to table a motion, in practice, a policy idea, that, in a follow up step, would be analyzed and discussed mandatorily. In our example, a member would propose a change in the current law related to the minimum marriageable age. 

Similar and connected motions could be clubbed together in a holistic fashion and discussed. After these first two initial phases, submission of a motion and its initial discussion, a first round of voting would occur where the members would decide to bring this motion forward.

What does it mean?

If a motion is voted to be brought forward, it will be further discussed, elaborated and deliberated in the form of a proposition, basically a proposal that at the very end will be finally voted by all the members. In this final stage of the deliberative process, members of the GenZ Council will have to vote if, to them, it makes sense or not to lower the minimum marriageable age.

Finally, a proposition that is voted favorably will be submitted to the federal government in the form of a recommendation that would have to either accept or reject it. The federal government would commit to officially respond in written form and also officially to each of the recommendations sent by the GenZ Council in the House of Representative, the lower chamber of the Parliament. The Federal Government should also include mandatorily explaining why some of these might have been rejected.

In future, the propositions voted by the GenZ Council could be made even mandatory but this would require more time for the country to fully understand and welcome deliberative democracy practices, basically accepting the idea of a new form of more participatory decision making.

In the immediate, the GenZ Council could also have the authority of providing feedback to each bill being formulated by the legislative. A key aspect would be how to ensure a fully representative and inclusive representation of the youths in the Council. In the field of deliberation, sortition (lottery) is a key aspect.

At first instance, it might appear as something bizarre and strange but around the world, it is how deliberative democracy happens also by taking advantage of software programs designed for the purpose. A pragmatic approach could be used to establish the Council for the first time, one that will not entirely rely on sortition. The Federal Government would nominate 25 percent of its members based on certain criteria. We can imagine this as a sort of quota that would ensure the participation of the current leaders of the GenZ movement where all major groups are included. Ideally, each Provincial Government or Assembly could also appoint a quota but this is tricky and would make things complicated also because of network/patronage related issues.

Then what about the remaining 75 percent seats? They should be allocated in an open and transparent way. As daunting as it might sound, all youths could apply but how to do so? One option would be to use sortition for all these remaining 75 percent of the seats. A second option would see that 25 percent of these seats be decided on  merits based while the other 50 percent remaining seats would be allocated through lottery.

In short, this system would imply that everyone that applies to be in the Council would stand a chance of being part of it. It will be certainly paramount that a quota system with a proportional representation of disadvantaged groups will also be guaranteed. Another key question is how long should its members remain in the council? A balance between not too short and not too long tenure must be struck. Members of the council should stay in power for one year or 18 months and they would not again be eligible to be part of the council in future.

A two-year cycle could also be envisioned but it is going to be essential to ensure that “space” for participation” opens up recurrently otherwise we would be at risk of institutionalizing a new elite of youths. What about the complex logistics of the meeting?

There could be at least three meetings in person and then have mandatory periodic online sessions where every citizen could assist and watch and possibly, have the opportunity of providing also some suggestions for the members. This aspect is important because it would enable other youths to feel connected and have a role. Participating in the Council should be a voluntary undertaking even if it is a time-consuming one.

At the most, a very basic monthly allowance (a sort of reimbursement) for its members could be entertained plus the transportation and lodging costs for those coming from outside the Kathmandu Valley for its in person sessions. The GenZ Council, if designed and implemented right away, can be a transformative democratic tool that could inspire better, more inclusive forms of decision-making.

A revised constitution could make it a constitutional body even without going to the extent of granting it with binding decision powers that the legislative and executive powers will have to respect. As the time is running short, the first iteration of the GenZ Council will be far from being perfect also because its design could be made through a more open process. Yet what at the end will count is that at least this new body that is being shaped could emanate hope that youths of this country can have a truly meaningful role in the way decisions are taken.

As 2025 comes to an end and 2026 begins, the distance between what is possible and what is practiced feels both close and painfully far. The past year has taught us lessons not through speeches or strategy documents, but through lived realities.

If one force clearly shaped 2025, it was Nepal’s GenZ. Across campuses, streets, and digital platforms, young people questioned corruption, exclusion, climate inaction, and the widening gap between political promises and daily life. Their expressions were not always polished, but they were deeply sincere. Unlike earlier movements, this generation did not organize only through political parties. They mobilized through social media, art, satire, frustration, and shared hope. They were not rejecting the nation they were refusing to inherit broken systems.

What stood out was not just protest, but clarity. Young people were asking for dignity, participation, and fairness. As we step into 2026, the real question is no longer whether young people are ready for leadership, but whether our institutions are ready to listen and adapt.

For decades, development in Nepal has leaned heavily on foreign assistance. In 2025, that reliance began to feel increasingly fragile. Global political shifts particularly renewed foreign aid cuts from the United States under the Trump administration sent shockwaves across development sectors worldwide. In Nepal, projects slowed, priorities shifted, and civil society organizations faced sudden uncertainty. Decisions made thousands of kilometers away affected health programs, governance initiatives, and social services at home.

The lesson from 2025 is not that foreign aid has no role. It remains important. But it can no longer be the backbone of development. Aid volatility exposed the urgent need for domestic resource mobilization, stronger public institutions, and political accountability. As we move into 2026, development must be treated less as external support and more as a national responsibility rooted in public trust.

In 2025, Nepal signaled its ambition to modernize governance through technology. The government established a National Artificial Intelligence (AI) Center to ease the work of both public and private sectors through digital systems. On paper, this represents progress, efficiency, and readiness for the future. Yet alongside this ambition, important questions emerged. Who benefits from these digital systems? Who is left behind?

While digital platforms expanded access for some, many others persons with disabilities, rural populations, older citizens, and those without reliable internet continued to struggle. Technology, the year reminded us, is not neutral. It reflects choices about whose needs are prioritized. As Nepal accelerates digital transformation in 2026, accessibility, ethical use of AI, and inclusive design must be embedded from the start. Otherwise, innovation risks deepening inequalities rather than reducing them.

When resources shrink, inclusion is often the first to be treated as optional. In 2025, as funding tightened and political attention shifted, people with disabilities, women, and marginalized communities once again had to fight to remain visible. Yet across the country, organizations of persons with disabilities, parents’ groups, and community advocates continued their work often quietly, often underfunded. Their message remained firm: inclusion is not charity. Accessibility is not generosity. Both are right.

The lesson is clear. Inclusion cannot depend on favorable conditions. As we move into 2026, accessibility must be built into public transport, education, digital services, and local governance by design not added later as an afterthought.

In 2025, climate change stopped being abstract. Floods, landslides, heatwaves, and water shortages became routine realities. For many communities, adaptation was no longer about planning, it was about survival. Local governments were often the first responders, yet many lacked adequate authority, resources, and technical capacity. Climate change revealed not only environmental vulnerability, but governance gaps.

The lesson for 2026 is demanding but unavoidable: climate action must be locally led, inclusive, and adequately funded. Policies discussed in Kathmandu or global forums must translate into protection where people actually live.

Another defining reality of 2025 was migration. Remittances continued to sustain households, even as migrant workers faced uncertainty abroad and limited protection at home. Behind economic statistics are human stories of parents aging alone, children growing up without caregivers, and returnees struggling to reintegrate.

Development in 2026 must treat migration not only as an economic strategy, but as a social reality that demands dignity, protection, and reintegration pathways.

Walking into 2026 with purpose

As I think back to that December morning on my terrace in Bhaktapur, the dream I had does not feel unrealistic. It feels only unfinished. Nepal does not need louder slogans or thicker policy documents in 2026. It needs quieter courage listening to lived experiences, reforming institutions, and placing dignity at the center of development. The lessons of 2025 are simple but demanding: choose people over convenience, inclusion over shortcuts, and long-term trust over short-term gain.

As Nepal steps into 2026, this reflection coincides with a significant political moment. Early general elections are expected to be held in March 2026 to elect the members of the House of Representatives. Elections are often framed as moments of competition but they are also moments of choice. The real question is not only who will govern next, but how they will govern. Whether the lessons of 2025 on youth participation, inclusion, climate responsibility, ethical digitalization, and dignity will shape political priorities, or once again be postponed in the noise of short-term promises.

For many young people and marginalized communities, 2026 is not just another election year. It is a test of whether our democracy can respond to lived realities with honesty and courage. If development is to mean anything in the years ahead, it must be rooted in accountability, inclusion, and trust values that no election should ignore. If 2026 becomes the year we begin closing the gap between imagination and reality, then that winter-morning dream on a Bhaktapur terrace may no longer feel like a dream at all.

The shift toward a low-carbon economy in Nepal has now entered a pivotal point, and green hydrogen is proving to be a viable solution for decarbonizing transportation. As Nepal commits to achieving net-zero emissions by 2045, the need for clean, reliable and scalable solutions for public mobility has become central. While global trends show rapid adoption of hydrogen technologies, Nepal’s unique hydropower surplus, geography and urban transport needs provide a compelling foundation for early pilot adoption.

With this strategic vision, a 100kW Green Hydrogen Mobility Pilot Project on the Kathmandu-Dhulikhel route will be marked as the country’s first green mobility pilot route, an initiative designed not only to validate the technical feasibility of green hydrogen but also to demonstrate its operational and economic practicality. This article explores the reasons behind considering the Kathmandu-Dhulikhel route and how a 100kW green hydrogen production plant, along with hydrogen city buses, can be used to sustain the first demonstrative system to clean public transportation in Nepal.

Strategic relevance

The Kathmandu-Dhulikhel route is one of the key intercity routes, which links the capital with Dhulikhel, one of the fastest developing educational, administrative and tourism hubs. The route has a steady stream of daily commuters, making it suitable for testing new transportation technologies. With an operational distance of 35 km one way and 70 km for a round trip, the route fits well within the operating range of hydrogen buses.

The route consists of urban, semi-urban and mixed-terrain areas where this project could evaluate the vehicle performance in different road and traffic situations. This information will be valuable for planning future deployment on longer or more complex routes. The constant and consistent flow of travel across the corridor also facilitates proper evaluation of fuel consumption, scheduling, and maintenance procedures, which make up a holistic analysis of the pilot project.

Bhaktapur as a hub

Based in Kharipati (Bhaktapur), Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) Training Center can be considered a suitable location for the hydrogen production and refueling facility since it provides strong institutional support in terms of reliable electricity supply, technical expertise and safety-related facilities. The availability of adequate land within the area further supports the installation of the hydrogen production plant, storage systems and necessary safety infrastructure. Also, Bhaktapur lies around the midpoint of the Kathmandu-Dhulikhel route, making it a strategically convenient location for refueling operations.

From a safety perspective, this location is positioned away from dense residential areas, lowering risks associated with storing hydrogen at high pressure. The open space available offers sufficient space to be used to install the necessary safety measures like fire shields, ventilation systems and emergency response measures. These combined factors, along with water availability, reliable electricity, good road connectivity and appropriate safety conditions, make Kharipati a viable location option for Nepal’s first green hydrogen production facility.

Technical design

The pilot project involves the use of a 100kW Proton Exchange Membrane (PEM) electrolyzer with a capacity of up to 22.5 Nm3 of hydrogen per hour, which is equivalent to approximately 2.02 kg per hour. By operating 8 hours/day, the plant produces approximately 16.18 kg of hydrogen each day, and when running 24 hours/day, it can produce approximately 48.57 kg/day, costing Rs 1,537 per kg at an electricity tariff of Rs 6 per kWh and Rs 1,812 per kg at an electricity tariff of Rs 11 per kWh.

The estimated land requirement for the facility is about 200 square meters (6.3 aana), which is adequate to accommodate the electrolyzer, storage cylinders, compression units and other important safety systems. The plant needs 80 to 240 liters of water per day for 8 hours and 24 hours of operation, respectively. The electricity requirement is up to 103 kW, resulting in a daily consumption of 824 kWh of electricity per day at an 8-hour operation and 2,472 kWh of electricity per day at a 24-hour operation. At an average electricity cost of Rs 6 per kWh, the daily electricity expense is about Rs 4,944 for the 8-hour schedule and Rs 14,832 for continuous operation. These values show that the energy requirements of the plant can be handled in a manageable and economical manner.

Operation and efficiency

The pilot project incorporates the mobility aspect with two hydrogen fuel-cell electric buses. Each bus has a 110kW fuel-cell stack, 195kW electric motor and six high-pressure hydrogen cylinders with combined storage capabilities of 44.4 kg of hydrogen at 70 MPa. The bus has a seating arrangement of 36 passenger seats, 3 foldable seats, and 1 driver seat, making it suitable for regular public transport use. Under normal operating conditions, a fully-fueled bus can travel around 700 km.

The Dhulikhel-Kathmandu route covers a round-trip distance of 70 km, requiring an average of 4.44 kg of hydrogen per bus, based on a fuel economy of 15.8 km per kg. Since both buses complete one round-trip per day, the total daily hydrogen consumption is 8.88 kg. Because the plant’s daily hydrogen output is higher than this demand, the project can maintain stable bus operations while also supplying additional hydrogen to refueling storage.

CAPEX and OPEX structure

The economic structure of the hydrogen pilot project can be understood through its capital investment (CAPEX) and operational expenditure (OPEX). The total CAPEX for the hydrogen production plant and two fuel-cell buses is Rs 282.56m.The largest portion of the investment is the electrolyzer and purification system, comprising 64 percent of the total CAPEX of about Rs 181.26m, inclusive of logistics. This consists of the 100kW PEM electrolyzer, power modules, control units and the hydrogen purification system. The balance-of-plant (BoP) accounts for 13 percent, equivalent to about Rs 35.79m. The procurement of two 12-meter FCEV hydrogen buses represents around 23 percent of total CAPEX, amounting to Rs 101.3m, including logistics. As the project is mobility-focused, the cost of these buses is a key component of the overall investment.

The operational expenditure (OPEX) is strongly influenced by electricity costs because electrolysis depends heavily on energy input. Electricity accounts for 48-55 percent of OPEX, depending on the electricity tariff applied. Maintenance accounts for 22-28 percent, as regular inspection and component servicing are essential for electrolyzer systems. Human resources form 14-16 percent, covering operators, technicians and administrative staff. Insurance and regulatory compliance make up 7-13 percent, and miscellaneous operational needs account for five percent to nine percent.

Conclusion

The Kathmandu-Dhulikhel green mobility project is not just a demonstration program, but it will be a National Pride Project, a project that will indicate that Nepal is committed to a sustainable and prosperous future. The project helps raise public awareness on green transportation and supports human resource development by providing researchers and technical personnel with practical experience in hydrogen technology. This initiative also helps to open the avenue of foreign investment and enhances Nepal’s opportunities of gaining carbon credits through the mitigation of emissions by demonstrating the technical and economic viability of hydrogen-powered mobility.

This project lays the foundation for future expansions. As hydrogen technology becomes more affordable and widespread, Nepal can scale up production capacity, introduce more hydrogen buses and extend green mobility to other regions. Through well-developed policy support, investment incentives and technological cooperation, the nation has the potential to reduce the number of times it relies on fossil fuels, decrease its emissions, and enhance energy security. In line with this, the project is not only a transport project but also a major leap toward a cleaner and sustainable Nepal.

The optics were striking. On the day KP Oli secured his third term as CPN-UML chair, Rabi Lamichhane emerged from custody a free man. As Nepali media dissected the moment and its aftershocks, verbal hostilities between the two former political twins resumed almost instantly. The result has been a surge in media frenzy—and the transformation of a consequential political moment into yet another episode of mass entertainment.

Oli and Lamichhane share not one but many similarities. Both possess tongues that rarely stumble. They repeat the same lie umpteen times till it sounds ‘true’. These Nepali incarnations of Goebbels have, on the strength of rhetoric alone, turned their parties into private clubs and their leaders and cadres into mere operatives.

They do nothing for anyone other than themselves—indeed, they do not even think about it—but they keep covering the truth with their palms, claiming everything they do is for the country and the people. They are factories of misinformation and disinformation, as well as proponents of the “deep state” and conspiracy theories. Whatever they say becomes party policy, program, and ideology. Thus, on one side stands “Oli ba,” and on the other “Rabi dai.” Though their lineage may differ, both are gods within their respective parties. They openly declare that they can never be wrong.

Both face serious allegations. Oli is confronted with numerous corruption-related questions, including grave accusations in the Giribandhu Tea Estate land scandal. Yet, by placing loyalists throughout state institutions—from the Supreme Court to the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority—he has remained untouched, like water rolling off a duck’s back. Rabi, on the other hand, faces charges of cooperative fraud, organized crime, illicit wealth and an ongoing criminal case over dual passport. While the cooperative and illicit wealth cases are civil, organized crime and dual passport are criminal offenses. If the judgment in either of the two cases goes against him, his political career will be over. That is why he desperately reaches the Ministry of Home Affairs—to suppress the cases. 

Once the UML–Congress government was formed, his usefulness as a 21-seat bloc ended. Subsequently, he was not only suspended as an MP but also spent a long time behind bars.

On the basis of evidence, Ravi is weak in these cases, but by hiring top-tier lawyers he has not only exploited every loophole in the law, he has also not hesitated to engage in bench shopping when necessary. Most recently, he had lawyers fall “ill” twice until a favorable bench took shape. On the third attempt, with a bench to his liking, the hearing proceeded and—for the first time in Nepal’s judicial history—an extraordinary decision was made to free him. This has raised serious questions about the judge’s competence and allegations of bench shopping, which have now reached the Judicial Council as a formal complaint.

Those raising questions have even pointed fingers at Prime Minister Sushila Karki, who herself is a retired chief justice. Notably, Karki had been calling charges against Lamichhane as fabricated, and, upon his release, she rolled out the red carpet at Baluwatar for him. But let’s not forget that Lamichhane is still an accused in state-led cases involving serious charges, including organized crime.

Welcoming a defendant of the state at the official residence of the head of government is hardly appropriate. In this context, suspicions have arisen that Lamichhane would not have been able to come out on bail had Karki not been the PM. Some even say Lamichhane was set free simply to counter Oli, who has been openly attacking PM Karki.

No sooner was he released than Lamichhane threw his weight behind the government and lashed out at efforts to restore the House, calling them a conspiracy. He went further, without naming Oli, by saying that “some forces who fled to disrupt elections are active; there is no need for that—once you win the party election, you can win the general election as well.” Oli, meanwhile, has questioned the verdict and the competence of the judge. The UML chief has accused Lamichhane of returning his favor with hostility, adding that he had played no role whatsoever in the latter’s arrest or release.

Indeed, Oli has contributed significantly to bringing Lamichhane to where he is today. When Lamichhane came to Nepal in 2015 on a family visa using an American passport, it was Oli who allowed him to host the program ‘Sidha Kura Prime Minister Sanga’ on Nepal Television. Ironically, that very job—taken while on a visa that did not permit employment—became a noose around his neck, ultimately forcing him to renounce his US citizenship. In the meantime, he also obtained a Nepali passport, and that dual passport has become the Achilles’ heel of his political life.

Oli also played a decisive role in making Lamichhane deputy prime minister and home minister twice. The UML chief defended Ravi by pushing to defer the dual passport case and opposing the cooperative fraud case. Their alliance lasted till the formation of the UML-Congress coalition government under Oli in mid-2024.

However, suspicions have now emerged that all this may have been part of Oli’s strategy to ultimately disgrace Lamichhane and end his political career. It cannot simply be dismissed as coincidence that Ravi landed in jail while Oli was prime minister. Having understood the inner story of his own political rise and fall, Lamichhane has since been locked in a constant power struggle with Oli.

There is no need to wait for Sunday to say this: between the two, it is no longer just fierce political rivalry—it has escalated into outright enmity. Lamichhane believes Oli is the one who sent him to jail; Oli sees Lamichhane, equally eloquent, as a challenge to his politics. Both seem to have concluded that only by sidelining the other can their own political fortunes advance.

Oli and Lamichhane stand on opposite sides regarding the Karki government and the elections it announced after dissolving parliament. Lamichhane has not only recognized this government but has fully supported it, calling Oli’s push for restoring the House a conspiracy. His firm stance that elections must be held on the announced date of March 5 under any circumstances has strengthened the government’s election campaign. Meanwhile, Pushpa Kamal Dahal, chair of the Maoist party—the third-largest force in the dissolved parliament—has also entered the election campaign, saying there is no alternative to elections.

The country is now almost sharply divided over the elections scheduled for March 5. The UML and Congress establishments favor restoring parliament, joined by some smaller parties that were part of Oli’s previous government. Reports suggest this camp is nearing a majority of the dissolved House and is preparing to approach the court with supplementary petitions seeking restoration.

On one hand, the government and the Election Commission insist elections will be held no matter what. On the other hand, Oli is not only saying elections won’t happen but is openly mocking the idea. Deuba may want to follow Oli’s lead, but strong pro-election sentiment within Congress prevents it from openly opposing elections. Leaders of parties not represented in the dissolved House publicly pray for elections yet cannot deviate from their factional party lines. Fearing they may not get tickets, they remain silent.

All existing circumstances appear to favor elections. There is consensus that elections are the only way to put the constitution back on track. If elections are held, Oli too will have no choice but to participate. Still, there is no certainty that elections will happen. Suspicions persist that this government is being run by some invisible force that may not want elections.

This may all be just another conspiracy theory. Yet, at a time when the constitution is not fully functioning and various domestic and foreign interest groups are raising their heads, it is hard to dismiss the possibility that something is quietly brewing. Nepal’s state apparatus has never reached such a fragile juncture.

Whether or not to restore the parliament? The ball is in the court of law. In recent times, Nepal’s judiciary has become the umpire of politics—no one knows when or for what foul it will blow the whistle. Judges increasingly resemble party activists, delivering verdicts largely aligned with party interests. One of the judges who released Lamichhane on bail, Justice Acharya, was previously the district secretary of the Arghakhanchi Congress before his appointment.

At present, the Supreme Court includes justices appointed on the quotas of Oli and Deuba, who are themselves litigants seeking the restoration of the parliament. Pressure from Dahal may also be exerted through them to secure a favorable verdict. If the pressure works, parliament will be restored, and elections will not happen. But a court already weakened by the GenZ movement may take a middle path—scheduling hearings only after March 5. Once elections happen, the court could rule, based on precedents, that restoration has become irrelevant since a new parliament has already taken shape.

The greatest challenge in global politics today is populism, with authoritarians, who hijack internal party democracy and climb to power, ruling the world. Oli and Lamichhane are Nepal’s “models” of this trend. That is why both are a serious problem for Nepal, not the solution, as these verbose stuntmen want to rule by feeding the public fodder in the form of speeches.

In any case, once again, Oli and Lamichhane stand face to face in Nepal. At present, Oli ba’s children and Rabi dai’s brothers and sisters are tearing into each other nakedly on the streets and on social media. Oli’s followers were already at that level; now Lamichhane’s supporters have join-ed them. Watching this spectacle, one feels that Oli and Lamichhane are cult leaders, and those holding various positions in UML and RSP their devotees.

Otherwise, what greater farce could there be than the grand procession with bands and fanfare when Lamichhane—arrested on criminal charges such as organized crime and fraud—walked free on bail, by effectively accepting the charges against him?

This columnist has consistently argued that Lamichhane and Oli share the same political lineage: populism. In that sense, they are political look-alikes ‘Swange Bhai’, persons of the same political DNA. Populism is the greatest challenge facing global politics today. Therefore, both are a problem for Nepal, not the solution.

Be that as it may, this “brotherly” fight has once again begun from a new front. Who will win and who will lose? Let’s leave this question to the future. One thing, though, is certain: whoever wins, Nepal and the Nepali people will lose, for these new Badshahs of populism are no longer just individuals; they have become a tendency. The mindset of only I matter is the problem—not the solution.