Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening from Kathmandu. This is Issue 154 of Kalam Weekly, the only newsletter you need to keep up-to-date with everything happening in Nepal. Before we begin, here is a quick shoutout to my newest paid subscribers — Professors Jonathan London and Nancy Erbstein. Thank you for your readership and your support! If anyone else would like to support me, click the link below:
In this newsletter:
Deuba and Oli heckled at Tundikhel, hecklers arrested
Western diplomats welcome transitional justice bill, victims divided
Another Nepali dies at the hands of a man abroad
The deep dive: A love letter to Herne Katha
Deuba and Oli heckled at Tundikhel, hecklers arrested
Monday was Gaura Parva, a Hindu festival celebrating the union of the goddess Parvati, also known as Gauri, with the god Shiva. That day, a celebration was held in Tundikhel in the capital and attended by Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, Nepali Congress President Sher Bahadur Deuba, and Culture Minister Badri Prasad Pandey. These politicians were in for a rude awakening as they were relentlessly heckled by an angry crowd. Chants of ‘desh chod’ (leave the country) began the moment Oli took to the stage. Even Oli, always ready with an off-the-cuff retort, appeared confused and taken aback at the hostility from the crowd. He quickly wrapped up his speech and left.
Then, it was Deuba’s turn to address the crowd, but he didn’t even manage to hold it together for a few minutes. A visibly irate Deuba scolded the crowd, calling them mischief-makers and saying that he would speak no matter what they chanted. In response, the crowd only grew louder and Deuba angrier. If there’s one thing that’s consistent about Deuba, it’s his impatience and temper. There have been numerous instances when Deuba has lost it at the public, yelling and berating them.
If that was that, it wouldn’t warrant any space in this newsletter. But after the heckling, the police began investigating and arresting the hecklers. Three people have been arrested so far. On Thursday, at a meeting of the UML party secretariat, Oli told party members that he was afraid such incidents would repeat across the country and that his government and the party were “under attack from all sides.” Without naming names, he blamed “certain political parties and anarchist forces” for fomenting chaos. It seems like Oli and others are afraid that what went down in Bangladesh recently could repeat in Nepal. Here, too, young people are disillusioned and angry. All it will take is a tiny spark to set their anger on fire. But instead of trying to listen to them and understand their anger, Oli and Deuba are tossing people in jail simply for exercising their free speech.
Western diplomats welcome transitional justice bill, victims divided
On Thursday, President Ram Chandra Paudel authenticated the bill to amend the Enforced Disappearances, Enquiry, Truth and Reconciliation Commission Act, officially turning the amendment into law. Almost immediately, the diplomatic community, primarily from the Global North, welcomed the amendment to the Enforced Disappearances, Enquiry, Truth and Reconciliation Commission Act, more colloquially known as the Transitional Justice Bill. The embassies of the United States, United Kingdom, European Union, Australia, Germany, France, Finland, Norway, Switzerland, and Japan said in a joint statement that they “will explore possible mechanisms for support to the Government of Nepal for the benefit of the victims.” They further stressed that the “continued participation of the victims in decision making processes will aid the effective implementation of the TRC Act” and that it is “time for all stakeholders to band together in support of bringing this segment of Nepal’s history to a successful conclusion.”
From the statement, it appears that these Western countries are eager to see an end to the peace process. Perhaps donor fatigue is setting in, or maybe they, like conflict victims, are just tired of seeing successive governments prolong transitional justice for 17 long years. Rights groups like Accountability Watch, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and the International Commission of Jurists are more circumspect. Among their concerns is the fact that the amendment has specified “cruel or inhuman” torture as not eligible for amnesty. They argue that all forms of torture are “cruel or inhuman.” They are also concerned with a provision that reduces up to 75 percent of a sentence if the perpetrator cooperates with the investigation. They — and victims groups — argue that any reduction of a sentence should be left up to the courts and not enshrined in law.
Some commentators see the bill as a last-ditch attempt by the Maoists and the Nepali Congress, the two parties to the civil war, to “bury the past” and move on. CK Lal writes, “It’s extremely unlikely that the present dispensation will do any such thing to loosen its ethnonational hegemony. With the help of [Sher Bahadur] Deuba and [KP] Sharma Oli, [Pushpa Kamal] Dahal may succeed in burying dreams of a just regime, but [the] peace of the cemeteries is inherently unstable.”
It’s a cynical assessment, and perhaps Lal is right. But transitional justice has dragged on for way too long, and conflict victims deserve peace of mind. That’s not to say that any transitional justice process is acceptable; it is not. However, compromises will have to be made if truth and reconciliation are the paths that we collectively have chosen. Some victims might be okay with truth, reparations, and reconciliation, but others will want prosecution. Both sides need to be accommodated. However, the political parties cannot decide who is prosecuted and who is not; that should always be the prerogative of the victims and the justice system.
Another Nepali dies at the hands of a man abroad
Last week, Naresh Bhatt was arrested in connection with the disappearance of his wife, Mamta Kafle Bhatt, in the US state of Virginia. Mamta has been missing for nearly a month, and although her body has yet to be found, police appear to believe that she was murdered, charging Naresh with concealment of a dead body. News reports suggest that police do not have enough evidence to charge Naresh with murder.
Even as that case is still developing, there are now reports that another Nepali woman has been murdered in the United States. On Monday, Muna Pandey, a 21-year-old student in the state of Texas, was discovered shot to death in her apartment. Three days later, on Thursday, police arrested 51-year-old Bobby Singh Shah for the murder. Initially, it was reported that Shah shot Pandey three times during a robbery gone wrong. But now, American news reports are saying that Shah used to frequent the restaurant where Pandey worked and that Pandey had been stalked in the past, leading her to install a CCTV camera. It’s not clear if Shah was the one who was stalking Pandey. There appears to be more to the story than a robbery, though.
As more Nepalis move abroad to work and study, such instances will only become more frequent. As my friend over at the new 5minsNepal newsletter points out, this year alone, two other Nepali women have been murdered by their partners in the US. In February, Chandra Maya Poudel-Rimal was murdered in Ohio by her husband, James Rimal, during an argument. In July, Tika Dhimal, also in Ohio, was killed by her husband, Sada Dhimal, after which he hung himself. The US, with its lax gun laws, can be especially dangerous, but other popular destinations aren’t safe either. Nepali women, it seems, aren’t safe anywhere from intimate partner violence.
That’s it for this week’s round-up. The deep dive continues after the break below.
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The deep dive: A love letter to Herne Katha
Meet Prakash Tamang, once known as Kalé. As a child of around 10 years, he came to Kathmandu from Jhapa to work in a carpet factory. After working for a few months, he was let go when the authorities began to evict child laborers from carpet factories. Unemployed and with nowhere to go, Kalé wandered around Kathmandu until he met a few people from the northern district of Gorkha. They promised to take him to their hometown, where work was to be had. The young boy, with no other prospects, agreed. He never returned, either to Kathmandu or to his home in Jhapa.
After 34 years, the Herne Katha team came across Kalé in Tsum Valley, a harsh landscape in northern Nepal that borders Tibet. Kalé, now known as Prakash, worked as a yak herder. The years of working under the sun in that snowy mountainous landscape had turned his skin dark and leathery. He no longer remembered his old name, his hometown, his age, or his parents. He had assimilated into the local Tsumba culture, speaking their dialect and adopting their customs. He tells the Herne Katha team that he can barely speak Nepali and remembers nothing about his old life. What follows is a documentary tracing Prakash’s old life and taking him back to where he came from after 34 long years.
This documentary is currently tugging at the heartstrings of millions of Nepalis. Prakash’s journey home is emotional, filled with hope, desire, tears, and laughter. He has never been out of Tsum Valley and everything seems to amaze him. He marvels at the size of the city of Narayanghat and how large bridges have been built over rivers. He savors a mango, his first since leaving Jhapa all those years ago. He takes a sip of coconut water and remarks how similar it is to chhyang. All the while, he is accompanied by the Herne Katha team — presenter Bidhya Chapagain and producer Kamal Kumar.
हराएका वर्षहरु (The Lost Years) is a bittersweet documentary full of highs and lows. At its heart, it is a story of a man attempting to return to his roots, trying to reclaim a life he lost to the vagaries of time and circumstance. It is a quintessentially Nepali story of migration, displacement, culture, and identity—a story that only Herne Katha could’ve told.
If you don’t know what Herne Katha is, I implore you to head over to their YouTube channel and subscribe immediately. This is not an advertisement; it is an endorsement. Herne Katha is a documentary series led by Bidhya Chapagain and Kamal Kumar. They scour the length and breadth of Nepal and bring us stories. Not news, not travelogues, not ‘content.’ These are stories anchored in humanity and told with kindness and empathy. In a media landscape filled with organizations and individuals seeking to make a quick buck, Herne Katha stands alone as the kind of storytelling that all of us in the media business should aspire to.
This might sound like high praise, and that’s because it is. I have admired Herne Katha for a long time, and I am not alone. They are consistently among the most popular storytellers in the country. Their most recent documentary, हराएका वर्षहरु (The Lost Years), already has over 7 million views since being released last Saturday. The video has been shared widely on social media, and it seems like every other person has already seen it and is pushing others to see it or has plans to see it. Among new media outlets, Herne Katha is uniquely successful, and it has achieved this success by remaining staunchly independent, free of corporate interests, and without plastering a thousand ads over their videos.
Both Chapagain and Kumar were once career journalists. They both worked for the BBC. Chapagain was a presenter and moderator for BBC Sajha Sawal, a popular town hall-style discussion program, and Kumar was a producer on the show. Chapagain quickly established herself as a calm and polite yet sharp and incisive journalist. She didn’t shy away from difficult questions but also wasn’t combative and hostile like many other television interrogators. Perhaps the most infamous episode of the show came in July 2017 during a discussion with Sher Bahadur Deuba. The former prime minister got incensed (see above) at questions from a young audience member who asked why politicians like Deuba continued to become prime minister despite seemingly not understanding the sentiments and desires of the public. Deuba harangued the young man by telling him that he was talking too much (तपाई बडी बोल्दै हुनुहुन्छ है!). Chapagain, ever the consummate professional, politely brought the discussion back on track and diffused the situation.
But after years of working for the BBC, both Chapagain and Kumar decided that they needed to chart their own path. In 2018, they quit their high-paying jobs and started Herne Katha. Since then, they’ve built a library of documentaries hitherto unseen in Nepal. They have over 300 videos on their YouTube channel, collectively equalling over 151 million views. They’ve won awards, including Best Documentary at the 2018 Kathmandu International Mountain Film Festival for मरिसकेको मान्छे (The man who died once) and the audience award at the 2022 KIMFF for बाघको बंगारा (The tiger’s jaw). But more than the awards, they are beloved by Nepalis from all walks of life. Their passion for their work comes through every video, and Nepalis a long way from home — toiling in the Middle East or Malaysia, working as fruit pickers in Europe, studying long hours in Australia or Canada — come to Herne Katha for an unfiltered sense of home, one that feels so real you can almost reach out and touch it. Every video they make has heart.
Occasionally, a video or clip will go viral, bringing Herne Katha to new audiences. Earlier, it was a clip from कुमाउँको कथा (Story of Kumaon) about Nepali workers in the Indian state of Uttarakhand. In the clip, a Nepali man who has long been toiling in Kumaon attempts to hand Chapagain 500 rupees as a token of love. He knows her work. He has watched her videos and he wants his 14-year-old daughter to grow up to become like her. That gesture, from a man who doesn’t have very much, brings a tear to her eyes, as it does to everyone watching.
But when things go viral, there is discourse. Already, there are accusations of ‘poverty porn.’ I disagree. I’ve seen most of Herne Katha’s videos, and I’ve never seen them use poverty as a prop. The videos never pity anyone. Bidhya Chapagain and her team are always empathetic, lending a hand, shedding a tear, sharing a cup of tea. It is disingenuous to accuse them of poverty porn when poverty is a fact of life for much of Nepal. Herne Katha also doesn’t exclusively traffic in sob stories about the poor; they have many documentaries that are joyful too.
Another accusation against them is that the Prakash Tamang documentary did nothing for him. On their blog, the Herne Katha team explains that things didn’t go well for Prakash. He returned to Tsum Valley, officially quit his job, and demanded back pay. His employers refused, but their sons gave him Rs 160,000, a paltry sum for 34 years of work. Still, he took the money and went back to his newfound family. But Rs 160,000 is not much money, and he quickly ran out. He tried to get a citizenship certificate, which would allow him to access better jobs, but he lacked a birth certificate, so he was refused citizenship. With no job and no money, Prakash is now back in Tsum Valley, working for the very same employer. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what will happen now,” he wrote to Herne Katha.
Some on social media believe that the Herne Katha team should have helped him, perhaps by donating the proceeds from the documentary. I can't entirely agree here, either. It might sound callous, but it is not the job of the media or storytellers to save people. Storytellers tell stories. Governments are supposed to take care of the people. Herne Katha brought Prakash’s story to millions of Nepalis. Now, it is up to the government to help Prakash and take measures to ensure that others don’t suffer his fate.
Still, discourse is important, and such instances allow us to comment on popular culture and how it reflects (or doesn’t) the world around us. They ask us to question the structures that lead to situations like that of Prakash Tamang. Through these kinds of discussions, we arrive at some sense of what role the media can play and what role the government must play.
I hope this lengthy and effusive endorsement has convinced you to go watch Herne Katha. If I were half the person Bidhya and Kamal are, I would’ve done the same thing—quit my job and plunge headlong into telling stories.
That’s all for this week. I will be back next Friday, in your emails, for the next edition of KALAM Weekly.
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