A shock reset for Nepal
Nepal stands at a moment that feels different from its many past political transitions. This time, the shift is not just about who governs, but about how governance is expected to work. Citizens are no longer satisfied with rhetoric or symbolic change. They are demanding results. That shift, subtle but powerful, may define whether this moment becomes a turning point or just another missed opportunity.
The recent reform narrative reflects deeper structural pressures. Years of uneven economic performance, governance fatigue, and institutional drift have converged into a public demand for accountability and delivery. As highlighted in recent analysis, the political transition underway is less about electoral arithmetic and more about a renegotiation of the social contract between the state and its citizens. At the heart of this reset lies a simple but difficult question: can Nepal move from a system that manages problems to one that solves them?
The illusion of stability
On paper, Nepal’s macroeconomic indicators do not signal a crisis. Growth has hovered around four to five percent, remittance inflows remain strong, and the banking system appears liquid. But beneath this surface lies a fragile structure.
Remittances now account for over one-fifth of GDP. While they sustain consumption and support foreign exchange reserves, they also mask deeper weaknesses in domestic productivity. An economy that relies heavily on exporting labor cannot indefinitely postpone the need to generate jobs at home. At the same time, Nepal’s trade deficit remains persistently high, reflecting a structural inability to produce competitively at scale. Industrial output is limited, and agriculture continues to employ a majority of the workforce while contributing a declining share of GDP. This mismatch is not just an economic issue; it is a governance failure rooted in policy inertia and weak execution.
The credit misallocation problem
Perhaps the most telling indicator of structural imbalance is where money flows within the economy. A significant portion of bank credit continues to be directed toward real estate and trade rather than productive sectors like agriculture and manufacturing.
This is not accidental. It reflects a system where lending decisions are driven more by collateral security than by economic value creation. Land, often overvalued administratively, provides safety for lenders but diverts capital away from sectors that generate employment and long-term growth. This pattern creates a cycle. Productive sectors remain underfunded, growth remains subdued, and the financial system continues to favor low-risk, low-impact lending. Breaking this cycle requires deliberate regulatory intervention.
Here, institutions like Nepal Rastra Bank have a critical role. Policy tools such as differentiated risk weights, targeted refinance schemes, and credit guarantees can help redirect capital. But these tools must be applied consistently and with clear intent. Half measures will only reinforce existing distortions.
The execution gap
Even where resources are available, Nepal struggles to use them effectively. Capital expenditure consistently falls short of allocations, with a persistent gap between budgeted and actual spending. This is not merely a technical issue. It reflects deeper institutional weaknesses. Project preparation is often inadequate. Procurement processes are slow and complex. Subnational governments, despite increased fiscal autonomy, lack the technical capacity to implement projects efficiently.
The result is a paradox. Funds remain unused while infrastructure gaps persist. Development slows not because of lack of resources, but for want of capacity to deploy them. Addressing this requires more than procedural reform. It calls for investment in institutional capacity, particularly at the local level. Without that, fiscal federalism risks becoming a system of decentralised inefficiency rather than decentralised development.
Digital progress, structural limits
Nepal’s digital payments ecosystem has grown rapidly. Mobile banking users have surged, and QR-based transactions are now common in urban areas. This is often cited as evidence of financial innovation. But payments alone do not constitute a financial system. The deeper promise of fintech lies in expanding access to credit, enabling data-driven lending, and integrating financial services into everyday economic activity.
That transition has yet to happen.
Open banking frameworks, alternative credit scoring models, and digital identity systems remain underdeveloped. Without these, the digital ecosystem risks becoming a thin layer of convenience rather than a driver of structural change. The next phase of reform must therefore move beyond payments. It must focus on building a data-driven financial architecture that supports small businesses, farmers, and first-time borrowers.
Governance and trust
Ultimately, economic reform cannot be separated from governance. Trust is the invisible infrastructure that underpins development. Where trust is low, transaction costs rise, investment slows, and policy effectiveness diminishes.
Nepal’s trust deficit is well-documented. Corruption, inconsistent enforcement, and weak accountability have eroded confidence in institutions. Rebuilding that trust requires more than high-profile actions. It demands consistency, transparency, and fairness in everyday governance.
This includes strengthening oversight in vulnerable sectors such as cooperatives, where recent failures have exposed serious regulatory gaps. It also requires credible mechanisms for accountability that are insulated from political influence. Trust is not restored through declarations. It is earned through predictable and impartial action over time.
The risk of partial reform
The current reform momentum is encouraging. But history offers a cautionary note. Many countries have initiated reforms only to see them stall or reverse due to political pressures, institutional resistance, or lack of follow-through.
Nepal faces similar risks.
Coalition dynamics can dilute policy direction. Bureaucratic inertia can slow implementation. External shocks, particularly in remittance flows, can strain macroeconomic stability. To navigate these risks, reforms must be anchored in strong institutions and supported by broad-based consensus. They must also be sequenced carefully. Attempting too much at once can overwhelm capacity, while delaying critical reforms can erode momentum.
From opportunity to outcome
Nepal’s current moment is rare. Political change, demographic pressure, and technological possibility have aligned in a way that creates genuine opportunity.
But opportunity alone is not enough.
The real test lies in execution. Can policies be implemented effectively? Can institutions be strengthened to sustain reform beyond political cycles? Can technology be integrated in a way that expands opportunity rather than deepening inequality? These are not abstract questions. They will determine whether Nepal moves toward a more productive, inclusive, and resilient economy, or continues along a path of incremental change and recurring frustration.
The shift in public expectations is already clear. Citizens are no longer willing to accept governance that manages decline. They expect governance that delivers progress.
Meeting that expectation is the true measure of this reset.
The 100-point mandate: A prescriptive blueprint for the new Nepali state
In less than 48 hours, Nepal’s new government has attempted something no administration has dared before—a 100-point contract with its citizens. For a citizen waiting months for a hospital bed or a simple file approval, this roadmap—if implemented—could mean the difference between delay and dignity.
Following the formation of the new government under the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP), the administration of Prime Minister Balendra Shah convened its first Cabinet meeting on March 27 and issued a prescriptive 100-Point Governance Roadmap on March 28, marking one of the fastest major policy announcements in Nepal’s democratic history. This document is not a traditional set of aspirations but a structured “Citizen Contract” designed to turn the energy of the 2025 youth protests into permanent state systems. By shifting from the “politics of grievance” to a “politics of delivery,” the government is setting a new standard where administrative output becomes the primary metric of success.
The first directive of this roadmap mandates an immediate transition to Delivery-Based Governance, drawing lessons from high-efficiency models such as Singapore. This approach mirrors Singapore’s “Clean and Green” campaign of the 1960s, where Lee Kuan Yew used strict, immediate enforcement of public standards to build the trust necessary for larger reforms. Singapore faced the risk of public backlash and compliance fatigue. To overcome this, the state paired strict enforcement with large-scale public awareness and ensured that benefits—cleaner streets and better health—were quickly visible, especially to lower-income citizens.
Applying a similar logic, the Nepali government has ordered strict enforcement of the 10 percent free hospital bed requirement, backed by a newly formed National Health Inspectorate. To make these gains sustainable, the Ministry of Health must move from periodic checks to continuous oversight, including unannounced daily audits.
To dismantle systemic delays in bureaucracy, the administration is prescribing a “Digital by Default” overhaul inspired by Estonia. Nepal seeks to adopt principles similar to Estonia’s X-Road system, which connects public and private services through a unified digital backbone. Estonia’s journey was not without risk—it faced a major cyberattack in 2007 and public concerns over data privacy. These were addressed through advanced data integrity systems and transparency tools that allow citizens to see how their data is used.
Learning from this, Nepal’s roadmap calls for integrating all departmental databases under a “Once-Only” principle, alongside strong cybersecurity safeguards. A public-facing Digital File Tracker is also proposed, allowing citizens to monitor the status of their applications in real time. However, for this system to be effective, digital literacy must be expanded across the population.
In a move to restore judicial integrity, the roadmap proposes an Empowered Asset Investigation Committee—similar in spirit to Hong Kong’s Independent Commission Against Corruption. This body will investigate the assets of political leaders and officials from 1990 to 2026.
Hong Kong faced a serious institutional crisis when sections of the police resisted anti-corruption reforms. The government responded with a balanced approach: limited amnesty for minor past offences, stricter laws for future violations, and improved salaries for public officials. This ensured that integrity became more rewarding than corruption.
For Nepal, credibility will depend on ensuring that such a commission is staffed by independent professionals, such as forensic experts and auditors, rather than political appointees.
While the official roadmap focuses heavily on service delivery, a parallel shift in national security thinking could further strengthen the state. Drawing from the “Total Defence” concepts of countries like Switzerland and Israel, Nepal could broaden its definition of security to include economic stability, food systems, and cyber resilience.
The risk, however, lies in potential overreach or militarization. This can be mitigated by ensuring strong parliamentary oversight, keeping citizens’ rights at the center of any expanded security framework.
The economic pillar of the roadmap is equally ambitious, proposing a fast-track system for business registration—reportedly targeting completion within 48 hours—drawing lessons from New Zealand.
New Zealand’s reforms in the 1980s carried risks of short-term disruption and job losses. These were addressed by simplifying regulations and making compliance easier for businesses. By reducing bureaucratic friction, the system naturally encouraged efficiency and growth.
Nepal aims to replicate this by linking civil service performance directly to efficiency outcomes, creating internal incentives for faster delivery.
A final recommendation is to address Nepal’s deeply rooted administrative culture, often shaped by patronage networks and “Afno Manche” practices. Transitioning to a merit-based system—drawing lessons from post-unification Germany—will be critical.
Germany faced resistance and institutional pushback during its reforms but overcame this through transparent hiring systems and strong legal protections for meritocracy. Nepal may face similar resistance; this can be managed through civil service retraining programs and structured early retirement options, enabling a gradual but firm cultural shift.
As this roadmap enters its first phase of execution, the priority is clear: early trust-building must evolve into making reforms irreversible. Drawing lessons from Indonesia, Nepal must ensure that institutional changes are protected through law and systems, preventing rollback by entrenched interests.
By embedding reforms into digital systems and legal frameworks, the Balendra Shah administration has the opportunity—not certainty—to ensure that today’s progress becomes tomorrow’s baseline.
The author is a practitioner who closely follows Nepal’s evolving societal and political landscape and has been regularly contributing analytical articles to national newspapers on issues of security, governance and democratic stability
Why disasters in Nepal are not natural
Each monsoon season, Nepal faces recurring severe impacts from natural hazards. Landslides in hilly regions and river overflows destroy roads, settlements, and livelihoods, displacing thousands of families every year. These occurrences are typically referred to as ‘natural disasters’, implying that the resulting damage is an unavoidable consequence of rugged terrain and extreme weather conditions. However, this way of looking at the problem hides and oversimplifies it. While the hazards Nepal faces are natural, the scale and severity of the resulting disasters are shaped primarily by human exposure and decisions about where and how we build, live, and govern.
It is important for both scientific analysis and policymaking to know the difference between a hazard and a disaster. Flooding, a landslide, a glacial lake outburst, a seismic tremor, or extreme rainfall are all examples of natural hazards. When these hazards hit populations that are already vulnerable, systems that aren't prepared, and institutions that can’t handle or absorb the effects, a disaster occurs. Due to the geographic location, Nepal is tectonically active, has steep slopes, and has delicate ecological conditions. This makes the country naturally prone to hazards. But the extent of the disaster depends on the pattern of settlement, land-use regulations, investment in preparedness and response, and the resilience of governance.
In this context, the narrative of a natural disaster is not complete, and using this kind of rhetoric can sometimes make people think that disasters are unavoidable or completely out of human control. This kind of framing again obscures the role of governance, policy decisions, development patterns, and resource capacity in shaping the results. It is therefore critical to know the distinction between a hazard and a disaster.
Why ‘not natural’?
Available data demonstrate that disasters in Nepal are driven by natural hazards, but their impacts are shaped by Nepal’s physical and social systems, which are very exposed and vulnerable.
According to the UN Office for Disaster Risk Reduction, floods alone affected more than 8m people between 2000 and 2023. From 1992 to 2021, landslides and floods killed almost 7,000 people. Landslides killed 3,692 people, and floods killed 3,201 people. During the monsoon of 2024, heavy rain caused more than 132 major landslides, killing 236 people and forcing more than 8,400 people to leave their homes in several provinces, from Koshi to Sudurpaschim.
According to weather data, several Hill districts have had the most rain during the monsoon season since 1970, which is a sign of statistically extreme events. The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) says that the rain in late September 2024 alone cost the economy Rs 46.68bn. More than 83 percent of these losses were to physical infrastructure, such as roads and highways suffered damage to the tune of Rs 28bn (approx), and hydropower facilities like the Upper Tamakoshi suffered losses worth more than Rs 30bn. The Tribhuvan International Airport station in Kathmandu saw the most rain in over 20 years, with 239.7 millimeters falling in just 24 hours. The disaster left nearly 250 people dead and displaced more than 10,000 families, underscoring how vulnerable Nepal’s systems remain during extreme weather events.
Earthquakes remain the highest-priority hazard in Nepal due to their catastrophic potential. The 2015 Gorkha Earthquake, which is one of the worst disasters in over a century, resulted in approximately 9,000 deaths, 22,000 injuries, and damage to or destruction of around 1m houses. The World Bank report says that the economic loss was about $7bn, which was about one-third of Nepal’s GDP at the time. In 2023, yet another earthquake of magnitude 5.6 struck Jajarkot and Rukum West, which caused more than 157 fatalities. Both these towns were still recovering from the 2015 earthquake, even though monitoring systems had advanced. This shows that they were still vulnerable in terms of their structure and institutions.
Climate change further magnifies this risk by increasing both the frequency and the intensity of extreme events. According to the World Meteorological Organization, Nepal's average temperatures are rising faster than the global average, at 0.66°C per year. This is happening faster in high-mountain areas. There are more than 400 glacial lakes that could be dangerous, and the risk of outburst floods is growing with glacier retreat. Research from the Integrated Center for Mountain Development (ICIMOD) in 2023 estimated that Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) could affect more than 2 million people downstream in the coming decades.
These disasters persist due to deeper systemic issues concerning structural and governance conditions. Around 78 percent of Nepal’s population lives in rural areas where critical infrastructure is insufficient to withstand hazards. According to the Department of Urban Development and Building Construction (DUDBC), over 70 percent of buildings in Nepal are constructed without seismic code compliance. Rapid urbanization has pushed informal settlements onto riverbanks, floodplains, and landslide-prone slopes, particularly in Kathmandu Valley, where more than one-third of settlements face moderate to high exposure. Despite this, many local governments still lack sufficient technical staff, resources, geospatial infrastructure, and expertise to incorporate hazard information into land-use decisions. This reinforces the governance gaps. Although the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Act (2017) marked progress, implementation remains weak. NDRRMA reported that only about 20 percent of local governments have up-to-date disaster preparedness plans, and fewer than seven percent use hazard maps for local planning.
In 2021 alone, Nepal recorded more than Rs 33bn in economic losses from disasters. Yet less than five percent of total disaster-related spending was allocated toward mitigation efforts. Investment remains heavily concentrated in post-disaster response rather than prevention, highlighting a reactive rather than a proactive approach and creating a reinforcing feedback loop.
Developing risk-informed systems
Clearly, these patterns demonstrate that disasters in Nepal are not purely natural in their consequences, as hazards are inevitable given the country’s geographic characteristics and monsoon climate. The scale of destruction, however, is shaped by development choices, governance gaps, and systems that do not prioritize resilience. If Nepal is to change this trajectory, it requires several critical shifts, most importantly toward risk-informed development at all levels.
A starting point is the systematic use of risk mapping to guide all forms of development. Hazard, exposure, and vulnerability assessments should inform where houses, schools, bridges, and roads are sited, rather than being an afterthought. There should be enforcement of resilient design, especially in seismic and landslide-prone regions where building codes are often poorly enforced. Nature-based solutions also represent an essential pathway toward long-term resilience, especially in a country like Nepal, where ecosystems play a direct role in many indigenous practices.
Forest cover, wetlands, and river corridors serve as natural buffers that reduce the impact of floods and landslides. Their restoration is not just ecological but necessary for long-term resilience. Local knowledge and modern technology must be brought together. Communities possess valuable insights into seasonal flows, slope instability, and the history of past disasters. When this knowledge is combined with advanced geospatial analysis and remote sensing techniques, such as satellite-based monitoring, LiDAR terrain mapping, interferometric SAR, and other earth observation tools, Nepal can anticipate risks more accurately and plan more effectively.
Social inclusion must be central to these efforts. Women, Dalits, Indigenous peoples, and other marginalized groups are often the most affected by disasters, yet their voices are frequently left out of planning and preparedness. Building resilience requires full participation and equity.
Final thought
When a flood sweeps away a village or a landslide cuts off a highway, it is easy to blame nature. But disasters in Nepal are more than natural hazards; they are the result of where we build, how we plan, and whom we prioritize. Natural hazards are inevitable, but disasters do not have to be.
To address this, disaster risk reduction must move from the margins to the very core of development decisions. Only then can Nepal look forward to a future where monsoons, rivers, and mountains are lived with rather than feared. The hazards will always be part of our landscape, but devastation does not have to be.
Education: A public service, not a private business
“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world,” said Nelson Mandela. But in Nepal, education has become more about business than learning.
It is often said that education and health are the most profitable sectors. This is because everyone wants a better life. However, this has also led to problems. Government schools have trained teachers, but many schools are not performing well.
In colleges, qualified teachers are present, but some are not fully committed. Due to low salaries, they spend more time teaching in private institutions. This affects students in public institutions.
Because of this, families who can afford it send their children abroad or to expensive private schools. Students, on the other hand, are also changing. Many are no longer interested in deep learning. Instead of reading full books, they look for shortcuts.
Bulky textbooks with detailed commentaries and analytical content are often left untouched in bookstores and libraries. These days, many students prefer shortcuts—relying on guides and brief handouts just to pass exams. At the same time, some institutes in the market are engaged in writing theses for students in exchange for money. Such practices seriously undermine the quality and integrity of education. These thesis-writing centers and guidebook-based learning practices should also be strictly regulated, if not banned altogether. Still, guides at the school level should be banned to encourage students to rely on proper textbooks and develop conceptual learning.
In this context, recent steps taken by Education Minister Sasmit Pokharel offer some hope. His efforts to maintain the academic calendar, conduct exams on time, and publish results promptly are positive moves. The plan to publish the 10th board exam results within a month, as well as the decision to ban political activities and student political groups in colleges and universities, are important steps. These actions will not only improve academic credibility but also help create a better and more productive environment in educational institutions.
Today, students talk more about politics than studies. Those connected to political groups are seen as powerful, even if they are not good in academics. This creates division and distracts students from education.
The decision to allow students to study up to bachelor’s level without citizenship is also very positive. Education should be for everyone. However, more work is needed. The Free and Compulsory Education Act, 2018 says that private schools must provide some seats for poor students.
Time to energize local levels
Nepal’s Free and Compulsory Education Act, 2018 provides that 10 percent of seats must be reserved for scholarship in schools with up to 500 students, 12 percent in schools with up to 800 students, and 15 percent in schools with more than 800 students. This legal provision should be strictly enforced. However, many boarding schools have yet to implement this requirement.
Local governments also need to do more. They should keep proper records of how many children are in school and how many are not. They should work to reduce dropouts. Teaching in local languages at early levels can help children learn better.
Politics in government schools
School Management Committees (SMCs) were created to improve schools, but some are accused of favoritism and misuse of power. It is alleged that many SMCs prioritize appointing their near and dear ones instead of selecting the most competent and deserving candidates. They are also accused of interference in school affairs, often treating the institution as their personal domain. This needs to be corrected. Many people believe that SMCs have done more harm than good, causing disruption rather than bringing meaningful change.
There are other areas for improvement.
Principals should be selected through open competition, not just seniority. Teachers should get regular training. Government teachers should focus only on their schools and avoid private tutoring. The School Improvement Plan (SIP), which every school is required to prepare, has largely remained limited to paper and has not been effectively implemented in practice. There should be no political interference in the appointment of principals, and selection should be based solely on merit.
Education is a shared responsibility of teachers, students, and society. If all work together, Nepal’s education system can improve.
Way forward
The time has come to focus on quality, not profit. Nepal’s Education Minister, Sashmit Pokhrel, has shown courage by working to maintain the academic calendar.
In addition, it is high time to break the hold of private education mafias. The ministry should go further by ensuring that private schools strictly follow government rules, provide teachers with salaries and benefits, at least, comparable to government standards, and charge fees that are affordable for students. There must be stronger monitoring of private education operators so that they do not function like unruly forces without accountability.
Moreover, Nepal’s education system lacks a proper balance between theory and practice. Students graduating with degrees often have strong theoretical knowledge but lack the skills to apply it in real-life situations. Therefore, Nepal’s education system should prioritize practical exposure and employment-oriented learning to make education more useful and job-ready.
Nepal’s education system should go beyond teaching that food is essential for survival; it should also include practical life skills such as cooking.
It is high time we changed the narrative that education and health are the most profitable businesses in Nepal. They should be seen first and foremost as essential public services.
The author is a faculty member of Law at Manmohan Technical University, Biratnagar



