If you commute through Kathmandu’s Ring Road route regularly, chances are you have noticed him. A lone figure in a boonie hat and a reflective vest standing in the middle of a busy road intersection, gesticulating at motorists to stop or to move. 

I might even wager that chances are you have heard somewhere that he is from Japan. Yes, he is a traffic volunteer; and no, he is not from Japan. This I discovered (rather embarrassingly, I must admit) from a police officer at Gaushala when I asked him if he could help me contact the Japanese traffic volunteer for this piece.   

When I finally meet the man, he tells me that he gets misidentified as a Japanese national all the time, assuring me that I am not the only one. 

Shekhar Chandra Rai has been working as traffic marshal for over a decade now. The misinformation about his Japanese origin spread as a result of a news article published in 2006.

“There was this news article about an actual Japanese volunteer who handed a traffic signal violator to the authorities,” he says. “Since the article didn’t publish his picture, people started assuming I was that person.” 

Born and raised in Morang district, Rai left for Brunei to work in 1993. He worked for the royal family of Brunei for two years before returning to Nepal. 

“After I returned to Nepal, I didn’t work for a long time,” the 47-year-old says. “I used to idle my days away in the Jamal area, watching vehicles pass by.”

He used to watch traffic officers at their job, fascinated how they controlled and guided the flood of vehicles. He would assist the traffic officers when the congestions were too high. The officers were more than happy to have an extra hand, particularly during rush hours. 

Rai learned while volunteering that the task required a good problem-solving skill and a lot of patience, which made him appreciate the job of a traffic officer even more. 

 

In the run-up to and after the People’s Movement of 2006, street protests and rallies became fairly common in Kathmandu. Traffic jams also became frequent as a result. It was then when Rai began volunteering on a regular basis.     

“I used to stand in the middle of the Gaushala and Chabahil intersections for hours, managing the traffic,” he says. “I worked during rush hours at first, but soon I was spending more than 12 hours in some of the busiest streets of Kathmandu.” 

Rai doesn’t own a vehicle, so he hitchhikes or takes a public vehicle to wherever he feels his help is needed. He really seems to get a kick out of this volunteering gig. Otherwise, there is no explanation as to why anyone would spend hours upon hours dealing with Kathmandu’s notorious traffic —and mind you, he is just a volunteer.

His eyes widen with excitement when he talks about the old days, back when Kathmandu’s roads were narrower, overhead bridges were few and far between, and the traffic situation was absolute chaos. 

“Oddly enough, those are the days that I cherish and find the most memorable,” he says.

Rai has a fixation with fixing problems. He tells me about the time he gathered some people to unclog the rainwaters that had waterlogged a road section in order to keep the traffic moving. 

But since Rai doesn’t wear a traffic uniform, motorists do not always heed to his instructions. He has no authority to issue tickets to traffic rule violators, so he is sometimes rebuffed by motorists. There have been numerous occasions when he has come across argumentative and hostile drivers. 

“I am simply here to volunteer. I try to avoid arguments as best as I could,” he says.

This approach doesn’t always work though. He tells me he was once nearly assaulted by a motorcyclist in Tripureshwor. 

“I stopped him for breaching the traffic rule and he nearly hit me. Fortunately, at that exact moment, a police officer happened to be passing by, and he protected me from getting beat up by this motorcyclist,” Rai says.  

The difference shown by the police officer in front of the gawking motorists and passers-by at the time made a lasting impression on him. 

But not all motorists are rude to him, he says. “They understand that I am there to help and they are cooperative. I wouldn’t be doing this if my work was not being appreciated,” he adds.  

Kathmandu has changed a lot since Rai started volunteering: roads have become wider, traffic lights and other infrastructures have improved, and people’s sense of traffic rules have also improved to an extent. 

“It is a lot better now. But that also means I am a lot less busier,” he says.

Rai’s volunteering work has won him accolades from traffic officers as well as the government of Nepal. He was feted with Prabal Jana Sewa Shree, one of Nepal’s highest civilian awards, by the president in 2020. 

With more time on his hands, he divides his time between volunteering and running hotel, his family business, in Gaushala these days.  

“I still like working as a traffic volunteer but there is little to do for me nowadays. I get bored when there is no problem to solve out in the street,” he says.