Pyari Hessa (#07) in action for Jamshedpur FT. Credit: Jamshedpur FC

By Diwash Gahatraj
DELHI, Feb 20 2026 (IPS)

Pyari Hessa, 26, balances long shifts as a loco traffic controller at a steel company in Jamshedpur with evening football practice on the same turf where professionals train.

A trans woman from the Ho tribal community, she was born Pyare Lal in Bedamundui, a remote village 50 kilometres away from Chaibasa, the headquarters town of the West Singhbhum district in Jharkhand. For years, she fought against family expectations and societal norms for the right to live authentically and to be seen simply as a person.

Today, as captain and striker for Jamshedpur FT( Football Team) in India’s first-ever football tournament dedicated to transgender women, the Transgender Football League, her fight for acceptance finds powerful expression on the pitch.

League match action between Jamshedpur FC and Chaibasa FC. Photo Credit: Jamshedpur FC

Launched on December 7, 2025, under the Jamshedpur Super League (JSL) by Jamshedpur Football Club (FC), this groundbreaking eight-team tournament brings together around 70 transgender women, many hailing from Santhal, Ho, and other local tribal communities. Hosted at the JRD Tata Sports Complex’s artificial football turf, the league features a fast-paced seven-a-side format.

The players come from different walks of life; some are factory workers, daily wage labourers, stage performers, e-rickshaw drivers, and more, from areas like Chaibasa, Chakradharpur, Noamundi, Saraikela, and beyond, competing not only for goals but also for visibility, dignity, and a true sense of belonging. In this space, they are celebrated for their skill, passion, and teamwork, transcending societal barriers and redefining inclusion through sport.

Kundan Chandra, head of Grassroots and Youth Football at Jamshedpur FC, explains the club’s thinking.

“The introduction of the Transgender Football League marks a progressive and meaningful step in our commitment to making football inclusive, accessible, and empowering for every individual. As a club we firmly believe that football must serve as a platform where talent is nurtured without discrimination.”

For players like Pyari Hessa, that belief is no longer just words. “When I’m playing football, it gives me immense happiness and gives me recognition. The game gives me a chance to rise above my gender identity. It gives me a platform,” Pyari says.

Life wasn’t easy for her, neither at home nor in her search for stable employment.

A Bachelor of Arts graduate, she lost her father at a young age and now lives with her mother in Jamshedpur, far from her ancestral tribal village. Before securing a job, she took on odd jobs as a daily wage worker to make ends meet. Eventually, she found employment in the logistics department of one of India’s leading steel manufacturers under their targeted hiring for under-represented groups.

More league match action between Jamshedpur FC and Chaibasa FC. Credit: Jamshedpur FC

Her tribal identity profoundly shapes her life, but as a trans woman, she faces additional layers of hardship. Traditional tribal communities in Jharkhand, rooted in customs, nature worship, and social norms, often do not accept transgender individuals with the respect they deserve, leading to exclusion, stigma, and limited family or community support.

Jharkhand is home to over 30 indigenous tribes. The culture and social position of transgender people within the tribal (Adivasi) communities here are complex and generally marked by limited traditional recognition or acceptance.

Journey From Village to Pitch

“I started playing football at ten, just like any other boy in my village. We’d kick around plastic balls on the village ground, purely for fun, nothing more,” Pyari says. “When I was in college, I met people from the trans community who played in charity and exhibition matches around Chaibasa. That’s when I realised football wasn’t just a game for me anymore—it gave me a reason to keep going and grow.”

“In those local matches, the winning trans team would get cash and be honoured. Before every game, the organisers would announce to the crowd: ‘Don’t pass gender comments, don’t disturb the players—give them the respect they deserve.’ Hearing that it felt like a small victory.”

Pyari shares these memories with a quiet pride. After winning her match on 25 January, her team triumphed 4-1 against Chaibasa FC.

According to coach Sukhlal Bhumij, who trains Pyari and the other team members, “Trans matches are being played between eight teams, and it happens every alternate Sunday and should be over by April.”

Saraikela FC (yellow) versus Indranagar FC (red) in league competition. Credit: Jamshedpur FC

Love for the Game

Football enjoys a passionate and deeply rooted following in Jharkhand, especially among its tribal communities. In rural villages, children play barefoot on open grounds from a young age, making it a daily part of life and culture. While cricket remains popular, football thrives at the grassroots level through local tournaments and has gained further momentum with Jamshedpur FC in the Indian Super League, where fan groups proudly celebrate tribal identity, explains Bhumij, an All India Football Federation (AIFF) C-License coach.

The sport also empowers many, particularly tribal girls and transgender players, transforming village fields into powerful spaces of pride, inclusion, and social change.

In districts like West Singhbhum, informal transgender exhibitions and charity matches have long been organised by village committees and community groups, often as one-off events, charity fundraisers, or parts of local tournaments to promote visibility and respect.

Puja Soy, one of the league’s highest scorers with seven goals from six matches, says football is finally bringing her community real recognition. The 23-year-old Jamshedpur FT standout, a professional stage dancer who completed her Class 10 education, now lives independently in Jamshedpur. Born as Shoray Soy, she moved away from her parents in DiriGoda village for her higher education and better life.

Sharing the harsh realities she faces off the pitch, Puja says, “No flat owners want to rent houses to people from our community.” Finding even this place was a struggle.” She currently shares a single-room home with another trans woman in Jamshedpur.

Jharkhand aligns its policies for transgender persons with India’s Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019, allowing individuals to self-identify as the third gender and obtain a Certificate of Identity without mandatory medical proof. Key benefits include inclusion in the OBC category for reservations in education and government jobs, a monthly social security pension of ₹1,000 (about USD 10), dedicated transgender OPDs in government hospitals for discrimination-free care, and access to schemes such as Ayushman Bharat health insurance, scholarships, skill development programmes, and shelter support. The state has also established a Transgender Welfare Board and support unit to facilitate implementation.

However, community members say the reality on the ground differs sharply from what’s written on paper. Despite these provisions, transgender women frequently miss out on job opportunities. To survive, many resort to begging at traffic lights or highway toll points, while others turn to sex work. One player in the league, speaking on condition of anonymity, shared that she plays football during her leisure time but, lacking employment, often stands at highway toll booths or traffic signals to beg from passersby.

Begging by transgender persons has become a common sight on Indian streets and in markets—so normalised that society has largely accepted it as inevitable, even as progressive policies promise a different future.

Freedom on the Field

Back at the practice grounds of the JRD Tata Sports Complex, Pyari is ready for the evening session. Cleats laced up, ball at her feet, she looks focused.

“I can’t come for practice every day because of my shift work,” she says with a small smile. “But whenever my shift ends in the late afternoon, I make sure to come here. This is where I feel free.”

As Pyari starts dribbling, moving the ball smoothly across the turf, it feels like more than just football. With every touch and turn, she’s juggling her job, her life as a trans woman, her tribal roots, and her dreams, all in perfect rhythm, just like the way she controls the ball. In this field, everything seems to fit.

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Tirtha Prasad Saikia, Director of the North-East Affected Area Development Society, speaks to IPS at the IUCN World Conservation Congress in Abu Dhabi, UAE. Credit: Diwash Gahatraj/IPS

By Diwash Gahatraj
ABU DHABI, Oct 13 2025 (IPS)

As global conservation leaders gather in Abu Dhabi for the IUCN World Conservation Congress, communities in the hills of Darjeeling, thousands of kilometers away, are still counting their losses. In early October, heavy rains triggered deadly landslides that buried homes, blocked key roads, and left several people dead. The destruction has once again exposed how vulnerable India’s mountain regions are to extreme weather.

The Congress, convened every four years, started on October 9, 2025, in Abu Dhabi, UAE. This flagship global forum unites over 10,000 conservation experts, policymakers, and stakeholders to advance nature-based solutions amid escalating climate and biodiversity crises. Key agendas of the Congress include localizing climate finance, nature-positive development, and post-2025 biodiversity targets, with sessions on Himalayan resilience. 

On October 4 and 5, intense late-monsoon rains hit Darjeeling, setting off multiple landslides across the tea-producing district in West Bengal. At the same time, starting October 3, continuous downpours flooded large parts of North Bengal’s Terai and Dooars regions. By October 10, the death toll had climbed to 40, with thousands forced into relief camps in Jalpaiguri, Alipurduar, and Kalimpong.

The recent Darjeeling landslides and North Bengal floods killed dozens of people and displaced thousands—for Tirtha Prasad Saikia, Director of NEADS, these disasters are more than statistics. They’re an urgent wake-up call.

Speaking with IPS on the sidelines of the IUCN World Conservation Congress in Abu Dhabi, Saikia drew on years of frontline experience responding to floods and climate disasters across Assam and northeast India. His message is clear: India’s fragile hill regions need immediate action combining nature-based solutions, local wisdom like Meghalaya’s living root bridges, and fair climate finance.

The Congress, he believes, offers a crucial platform to push these priorities forward, ensuring vulnerable communities and ecosystems can survive and thrive as climate risks escalate. Read excerpts from the conversation below.

IPS: How do you interpret this event, IUCN WCC 2025 from a conservation and climate-resilience perspective?

Saikia: The Abu Dhabi IUCN Congress is perfectly timed to advance the global conservation agenda, emphasizing nature-based solutions and integrated resilience. This focus is crucial for mountain and riverine ecosystems, where safeguarding biodiversity is inseparable from ensuring human safety.

IPS: What do such disasters reveal about the state of preparedness in India’s hill regions?

Saikia: They reveal predominantly reactive systems, poor enforcement of hazard zoning, weak micro-catchment early warnings, and infrastructure placed in high-risk locations, so extreme rainfall turns rapidly into catastrophe.

IPS: In your work across the northeast of India, do you see similar patterns of vulnerability emerging?

Saikia: Yes, the northeast shows the same mix of steep, fragile terrain, increasing extreme rainfall, deforestation, and unplanned hill-cutting, producing repeated landslides, erosion and compound flood impacts.

IPS: What makes Darjeeling and other Eastern Himalayan areas so susceptible to landslides and flooding?

Saikia: A natural baseline of steep slopes, young/unstable geology and intense orographic rain combined with human pressures such as hill-cutting, vegetation removal and riverside construction that weaken slope and river resilience.

IPS:  How much is this crisis driven by human actions versus changing climate patterns?

Saikia: It’s a combination of both. Climate change is increasing the frequency and intensity of extreme rainfall that’s often the trigger. But local human actions like deforestation, unplanned road construction, and illegal building remove natural buffers and increase exposure. These factors work together, turning what could  have been manageable events into major disasters.

IPS: Do current development models in India’s hill regions take ecological limits into account?

Saikia: Not sufficiently! Many development choices prioritize short-term growth (tourism, housing, roads) without rigorous catchment assessments, undermining long-term resilience.

IPS: When disasters strike, what immediate challenges do local communities face (displacement, livelihoods, relief)?

Saikia: Rapid displacement, loss of homes and farmland, ruptured connectivity that blocks relief, loss of seasonal incomes and acute health/sanitation risks are immediate and severe.

IPS: Are there examples of community-led efforts or local knowledge that reduce these risks?

Saikia: Yes, living root bridges of Meghalaya, stilted/raised houses and granaries among the Mishing communities and other indigenous peoples of Assam and locally run flood shelters and community early-warning practices show strong, low-cost resilience rooted in local knowledge.

IPS: How can these local practices be scaled up or integrated into formal disaster management and planning?

Saikia: Systematically document and evaluate practices, fund pilots via micro-grants, adopt hybrid designs (traditional and engineering standards), secure community tenure and embed proven models in state DRR and climate plans.

IPS: How can restoring forests, wetlands and slopes reduce landslide and flood risks in regions like Darjeeling?

Saikia: Restoration increases infiltration, reduces peak runoff and sediment load, and stabilizes soils, recreating natural buffers so heavy rains are less likely to produce catastrophic landslides or extreme floods.

IPS: Examples where ecosystem-based interventions have outperformed conventional infrastructure:

Saikia: Living root bridges and mature catchment reforestation resist heavy rains better and last longer than many concrete fixes, and wetland/floodplain reconnection reduces downstream peaks more sustainably than embankments that simply transfer risk.

IPS: What are the biggest governance or institutional gaps that limit adaptation?

Saikia: Weak enforcement of hazard zoning, siloed sectoral planning, limited local fiscal autonomy, poor micro-catchment data and inadequate local early-warning systems.

IPS: How can state and local governments better coordinate with communities and civil society?

Saikia: Create support for the local disaster planning units, finance communities on micro-projects, institutionalize the communities and convene multi-stakeholder basin platforms.

IPS: Is climate finance reaching the ground, or are structural barriers locking it up?

Saikia: Much finance remains centralized or tied to complex procedures; slow disbursement, weak local fiduciary capacity and donor timelines misaligned with ecosystem recovery keep funds from reaching communities quickly.

IPS: What funding mechanisms could ensure faster, more direct support for community-led resilience?

Saikia: Use micro-grant windows, locally managed climate funds and blended finance that pairs seed grants with technical assistance and results-based payments to accelerate on-the-ground action.

IPS: Do you see opportunities at IUCN WCC 2025 for regional collaboration on mountain adaptation and resilience?

Saikia: Yes, WCC is ideal to launch transboundary basin platforms, share hazard-mapping tools and early-warning protocols, and co-finance coordinated restoration targets across the Eastern Himalayas.

IPS: One key action India should take in the next five years to strengthen hill resilience:

Saikia: Set up and fund a National Mountain and Riverine Resilience Mission to map hazards, enforce land use, finance community nature-based solutions and build multi-level basin governance and local capacity.

IPS: How can the IUCN Congress and global gatherings turn conversations into concrete action for places like Darjeeling and the Eastern Himalayas?

Saikia: Fast-track pilot financing for community-led nature-based projects, publish an implementation handbook of proven local practices and broker multi-year donor–government–community agreements with measurable resilience targets to convert pledges into delivery.

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Banner headlines and flawed interpretations of Nepal's protests have characterized media coverage. Graphic: IPS

By Diwash Gahatraj and Chandrani Sinha
KATHMANDU & NEW DELHI, Sep 18 2025 (IPS)

Claims that Ravi Laxmi Chitrakar, wife of former Nepali Prime Minister Jhala Nath Khanal, was burned alive in her home—fake. The reports of an angry mob destroying and vandalizing the Pashupatinath Temple—fake. Allegations that protesters were demanding a Hindu nation in Nepal—fake. As Kathmandu and other Nepali cities erupted in unrest last week, the fire of fake news spread just as fiercely across Nepal and into neighboring India and the rest of the world.

These sensational claims, widely circulated during Nepal’s recent unrest, proved to be misinformation. Driven by various actors and amplified by sections of Indian and international media, the stories dominated headlines, prime-time debates, and viral reels on Instagram, TikTok, and other platforms—framing the movement as a “Gen Z protest” over a social media ban.

In reality, Nepal’s youth were rallying against something far deeper: decades of entrenched corruption and a demand for genuine accountability from those in power.

On a sunny September morning, Nepal’s Generation Z poured into the streets of Kathmandu in what would become the country’s most significant youth uprising in decades. What began as peaceful demonstrations demanding jobs, government accountability, and digital freedoms soon swelled into a nationwide revolt that ultimately toppled Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli. The protests turned deadly on September 8, 2025, when police opened fire on demonstrators, killing at least 19 people on the first day alone, with hundreds more injured. The unrest spread rapidly from Kathmandu to major cities, including Pokhara, Biratnagar, Butwal, Bhairahawa, and Bharatpur, as young Nepalis rallied against corruption and a sweeping social media ban.

The crisis reached its peak when protesters stormed and set fire to the parliament building, forcing Oli’s resignation and prompting the military to take control of the streets. The political upheaval culminated in the appointment of Nepal’s first female prime minister, former Chief Justice Sushila Karki, as interim leader.

As the dust settles on one of South Asia’s most dramatic youth-led revolutions, the full extent of the casualties and destruction across Nepal continues to emerge, with the latest reports indicating at least 72 deaths and at least 2,113 injured nationwide.

Flames engulf the Nepal Supreme Court building in Kathmandu. Credit: Barsha Shah/IPS

Chaos of Misinformation

Amid the swirl of rumors and misinformation during the protests, one story that shocked the people was that of Ravi Laxmi Chitrakar, wife of former Prime Minister Jhala Nath Khanal. News started circulating that she was burnt to death inside her house. The false report spread fast, picked up by big YouTubers like Dhruv Rathee and even reported by the Indian daily Times of India, amplifying the claim to millions. “In reality, she had suffered serious burn injuries during an attack and was taken to Kirtipur Burn Hospital in critical condition—but she is alive,” said Rohit Dahal, a Gen Z member and close observer of the movement.

Later, Indian fact-checking outlet Alt News published a story debunking the misinformation.

Initially, many media outlets reshaped the protest’s narrative, reducing it to a youth backlash against the social media ban. Kathmandu-based freelance journalist, researcher and fact-checker Deepak Adhikari says the movement started with young people sharing videos contrasting the lavish lifestyles of politicians’ children, also called ‘Nepo Kids,’ with the daily struggles of ordinary citizens but soon became a major flashpoint for misinformation.

“The most common falsehoods were claims of attacks on politicians and their properties and rumors that leaders were fleeing the country. While some of this misleading content originated on Nepali social media, Indian television channels and users amplified it, turning it into a much bigger problem,” says Adhikari, who heads Nepal Check, a fact-checking platform dedicated to exposing misinformation and protecting public discourse.

Adhikari adds that unfounded claims about sacred sites also went viral. On September 9, a Facebook page called Corporate Bazaar posted a video claiming protesters had reached Pashupatinath Temple and attempted vandalism. The clip showed people climbing the temple gate—but a fact-check later revealed it was originally uploaded nearly two months earlier by a TikTok user during the Vatsaleshwori Jatra festival. YouTubers also amplified such rumors, Adhikari shares. For instance, a U.S.-based Nepali creator, Tanka Dahal, claimed police had detained 32 children inside Nepal’s parliament, fueling even more dramatic—and false—claims that the children had been killed there.

Indian Inputs

As Nepal’s youth fought for their future, Indian broadcasters and social media influencers reframed the movement. Dainik Jagaran, a popular news outlet, ran a front-page story claiming the Gen Z protests were demanding a Hindu Rashtra. This became a clear example of how misinformation can hijack a movement. While Nepal has seen pro-monarchy demonstrations in the past, calling for the reversal of the country’s secular status, the current protests did not include such demands. Instead, the Gen Z movement focused on highlighting the country’s stark wealth gap, rampant nepotism, and a migration crisis that forces nearly one in 10 Nepalis to work abroad. Politicians’ children flaunt luxury while most citizens struggle to make ends meet.

Asked how Indian media and social media users amplified false narratives about Nepal’s protests, BOOM Live deputy editor Karen Rebelo explained that large-scale anti-government movements often attract misinformation, especially when they draw attention beyond national borders.

“Misinformation thrives on uncertainty. In the vacuum created by incomplete reporting, people either invent stories or recycle old information to go viral,” she said.

Rebelo noted that social media determines who controls the narrative—authorities, protesters, or other actors. In Nepal’s case, many Indian outlets misreported the protests as solely a reaction to the social media ban. In reality, Gen Z demonstrators were protesting systemic corruption, nepotism, and inequality, with the ban only highlighting deeper frustrations.

Rebelo also pointed out how some right-wing outlets framed the protests as efforts to restore the monarchy or establish a Hindu nation—narratives that misrepresented the genuine concerns of Nepali youth. “These stories were amplified online and distorted what was actually happening on the ground,” she said.

Similarly, one of the crucial groups part of the Gen Z protest is Hami Nepal, a non-profit dedicated to supporting communities and individuals in need. According to the Nepal Times, “The group played a central role in guiding the demonstrations, using its Instagram and Discord platforms to circulate protest information and share guidelines.

Interestingly, the group’s leader, Sudan Gurung, became another victim of misinformation. As Nepal’s Gen Z protests gained momentum, misinformation quickly complicated the story. Upendra Mani Pradhan, a journalist and political analyst based in Darjeeling and editor-at-large at The Darjeeling Chronicle, pointed to this case.

“A major gaffe that almost painted the Gen Z revolution as ‘India-sponsored was the case of Sudan Gurung,” Pradhan said. He explained that Indian news channels—News18 and Zee News—published photos of Sudhan Gurung from Darjeeling, claiming he was a key architect of the Gen Z movement and leader of the Hami Nepal group. “The problem was both outlets, perhaps in their rush to report, failed to do their due diligence. They typed ‘Sudhan Gurung activist’ and not ‘Sudan Gurung, Nepal’ and used the first image they found online,” Pradhan said.

Coincidentally, Sudhan Gurung from Darjeeling is also an anti-corruption activist. He was assaulted a month earlier, allegedly by  political goons in the Darjeeling hills of India, for exposing the Teachers’ Recruitment scam in the Gorkhaland Territorial Administration.

Newspaper The Telegraph, published from Kolkata, wrote about this confusion and the backlash faced by the Nepali Sudan, with many questioning his credibility.

Tensions over media coverage of the protests spilled into a visible backlash against Indian journalists. On September 11, an Indian reporter was reportedly manhandled by protesters chanting anti-India slogans.

“It is very unfortunate that the journalist had to face this,” says Rebelo. “But this backlash did not come out of nowhere. Reckless reporting and misinformation by some Indian media outlets created the anger. We could have covered the story with much more care and responsibility.”

Rebelo highlighted a deeper issue, saying the incident reflects how little many in India understand their neighboring countries. “This lack of nuance makes misinformation even more damaging,” she added, noting that sensational reporting often worsens the situation.

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Excerpt:

The Beldangi refugee camp in Nepal, where some of the four Bhutanese Lotshampa refugees evicted from the United States are living. Credit: Diwash Gahatraj/IPS

By Diwash Gahatraj
JHAPA, Nepal,, Jul 31 2025 (IPS)

Four Bhutanese Lotshampa refugees—Aasis Subedi, Santosh Darji, Roshan Tamang, and Ashok Gurung—filed an appeal in Nepal’s Supreme Court on July 27, challenging a government order that would deport them from Nepal.

After being resettled in the United States through a UN refugee program, the four were deported back to Bhutan in April this year only to be turned away at the border. Bhutan refused to recognize them as citizens.

They entered Nepal without a visa and were imprisoned for 28 days. They were released in June only after Aasis Subedi’s father, Narayan Subedi, filed a writ petition in the Supreme Court of Nepal. The court then issued an interim order stopping their deportation.

The order instructed the government to release the men from prison and let them stay in the refugee camps in Jhapa district—Pathri and Beldangi. It also required them to report to the local police station once a week and asked the Immigration Department to complete its investigation within 60 days.

That deadline passed on June 20. Three days later, the family received a letter from Nepal’s Immigration Department.

“I was shocked to see the verdict. I felt sad and helpless,” said 36-year-old Aasis Subedi, reading the letter aloud. It stated that the Department had decided to deport the four men—either back to the U.S., or to Bhutan—after fining them NPR 5,000 (about USD 36.4) each. They were also told to pay visa fees and an additional USD 8 per day as an overstay penalty.

“This deportation order is deeply flawed,” said senior advocate Satish Krishna Kharel, who will represent the four men in court. “They were resettled to the U.S. from Nepal under a formal international program. Sending them away now, without any country ready to take them, violates basic legal and humanitarian principles.”

Kharel and the legal team argue that the decision by the Immigration Department disregards their history and undermines the credibility of the international resettlement process itself. With both the U.S. and Bhutan denying them citizenship, the four men are effectively stateless—caught in a legal no-man’s-land. Their fate now rests with Nepal’s highest court, which could set an important legal precedent on how stateless individuals are treated in the country.

Department of Immigration (DoI) spokesperson Tikaram Dhakal told a Nepali daily, “Even though they came from the US, they are Bhutanese. The sooner they arrange their travel documents, the sooner we can deport them. If they can’t go back to the US, Bhutan is the easier option for us. They will also have to cover the cost of their airfare.”

Until their travel documents are ready, they will remain in the camp.

Aasis’s father, Narayan Subedi, feels helpless about his son’s statelessness. “Last time, I filed a habeas corpus petition in the Supreme Court after my son and three others were arrested. We’re filing another petition now, still holding on to hope that a solution can be found for their future,” he says, before leaving for Kathmandu for the appeal.

“Money is always a challenge for refugees living in the camp,” says Narayan Subedi, father of one of the deportees. “Both last time and again now, we’ve only been able to cover travel and legal expenses in Kathmandu because of help from a few well-wishers—like Dilli Adhikari, a fellow Lhotshampa refugee now living in the U.S.”

Now 55, Narayan has no formal job. He supports himself by running a small grocery shop from his home within the refugee camp. Much like his son’s situation today, Narayan himself has lived as a stateless refugee since the early 1990s. Unlike his wife and children, he didn’t qualify for third-country resettlement when the U.S.-led program was active.

Similarly, refugee rights activist and head of INHURED International, Dr. Gopal Krishna Siwakoti, explains that the deportation order for the four individuals was made strictly by following the letter of Nepal’s Immigration Act, without considering the larger human and legal issues involved. He says the authorities seem confused and uncertain about how to find a fair and lasting solution to this complicated situation.

Normally, Nepal’s Immigration Department charges a heavy fine—NPR 50,000 plus USD 8 per day—for entering the country without proper documents or overstaying a visa. But in this case, the four deportees were treated with some compassion. They were asked to pay just NPR 5,000 each. However, they will still need to pay the USD 8 per day overstay fine once they get their travel documents and are ready to leave the country.

A Grim Outlook

The future for the four men deported from the U.S., and others like them, remains highly uncertain. Most possible outcomes offer little hope. Without strong international pressure or a shift in regional diplomacy, these individuals could remain trapped in a legal and humanitarian dead end.

Repatriation to Bhutan may seem like the most direct solution, but it is highly unlikely. Bhutan has consistently refused to take back Lhotshampa refugees—even those who were verified as citizens in past screenings.

Another option is permanent settlement in Nepal. But this, too, remains uncertain. Nepal is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention and offers no legal path to citizenship for refugees, making long-term integration nearly impossible.

Third-country resettlement is also improbable. The UNHCR-led program has officially ended, and most countries are unwilling to accept individuals with unresolved legal or criminal records.

According to Dr. Gopal Krishna Siwakoti, the most likely outcome is “prolonged area detention or legal limbo.” This has happened before. Thousands of refugees have spent decades in camps in Nepal without any durable solution. Nearly 7,000 Lhotshampas still live in the two camps in eastern Nepal. The newly deported face the same grim reality—stateless, stuck, and with no clear path ahead.

Way Ahead

For the deportees, this marks a return to statelessness. No country is willing to accept them, leaving them without citizenship, protection, or a clear future. Their deportation goes against international laws, including the right to seek asylum and protection from torture.

Nepal and Bhutan do not have formal diplomatic relations, and their talks to resolve the refugee issue have been stuck since the 15th round of negotiations. India has remained silent, and the United States has not acted beyond deporting the individuals.

Experts like Siwakoti say that the way forward now depends on international pressure.

“Support from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), global human rights organizations, and Bhutanese diaspora groups could help push for a humane and lasting solution.”

“On the legal front, the upcoming appeal in Nepal’s Supreme Court could become a key moment—setting a precedent for how stateless individuals are treated in Nepal going forward,” he adds.

Regional diplomacy may also help if Nepal raises the issue at global forums like the UN Human Rights Council, the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), or the European Union. That could increase pressure on Bhutan to respond and engage in resolving the crisis.

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Deportee from the U.S., Aasis Subedi, with his father, Narayan Kumar Subedi. Credit: Diwash Gahatraj/IPS

By Diwash Gahatraj
JHAPA, Nepal, May 16 2025 (IPS)

Sitting in his small hut in the Beldangi refugee camp in Jhapa district, Nepal, Narayan Kumar Subedi feels relieved that his son, Aasis Subedi, is safe.

Aasis is one of four United States deportees who were the subject of Nepal’s Supreme Court landmark ruling on April 24, which directed the government not to deport four Bhutanese refugees who entered Nepal in March of this year after being disowned by Bhutan. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) deported the four after they had lived in various parts of the United States for nearly a decade.

The Apex body ordered that “Aasis Subedi, Santosh Darji, Roshan Tamang, and Ashok Gurung should not remain in police custody. Instead, they should be housed in the Bhutanese refugee camps in eastern Nepal, where they lived before moving to the United States.” The ruling came in response to a habeas corpus petition filed by Narayan, father of Aasis.

“It was a mixed feeling that night when my son and two other deported men—Santosh and Roshan—came to my house. I was thrilled to see my son after ten years but was equally sad that he was escaping like a stateless homeless person,” says the 55-year-old.

On March 27, the morning after their deportation, Nepali immigration authorities arrested the three men for entering the country without visas. The fourth refugee, Ashok Gurung, was detained separately in Bahundangi, a village on the Indo-Nepal border, two days later.

The Department of Immigration investigated their case for nearly a month while they remained in police custody until the country’s highest court granted them a second chance to live in Nepal. However, this decision will be reviewed after 60 days. Until then, the four men must remain within the camp premises and report to the local police station once a week, adds Narayan.

The four men have found themselves in legal and diplomatic limbo after Bhutan refused to accept them back. Now sheltered in Nepal’s refugee camps under a temporary court order, their case highlights the ongoing crisis of statelessness among the Lhotshampa community and exposes the fragile nature of third-country resettlement solutions.

Cruel Connection

Aasis Subedi photographed with his wife while in the United States.

The four men in their mid-thirties—Aasis, Santosh, Roshan, and Ashok—share a bitter connection of multiple displacements and statelessness.

They belong to the Bhutanese Lhotshampa community, a Nepali-speaking ethnic group that settled in southern Bhutan. The Lhotshampas (“southerners” in Bhutan’s Dzongkha language) migrated to Bhutan in the late 19th and early 20th centuries during the reign of King Ugyen Wangchuck, encouraged to develop the sparsely populated southern lowlands.

Initially granted citizenship in the 1950s and 1970s, the status of Lhotshampas changed when Bhutan introduced the “One Nation, One People” policy in the late 1980s. The policy promoted Drukpa cultural norms, which included mandatory dress codes and language use, resulting in protests from Lhotshampas who felt marginalized.

The government subsequently revoked citizenship for many Lhotshampas, labeling them “illegal immigrants.” Between 1990 and 1993, persecution and mass arrests forced over 100,000 Lhotshampas to flee—a situation many consider ethnic cleansing. Most ended up in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.

A few decades ago, the families of the four deported individuals also came to Nepal as expelled citizens of Bhutan, and they lived as refugees in the camps until a decade ago, when they became part of a third-country resettlement program.

After years of unsuccessful attempts to return to Bhutan through numerous petitions to the king and internal organizations, as well as appeals for help from nations like India and Nepal, the refugees’ hopes for repatriation dimmed.

A turning point came in 2007 when the UN refugee agency (UNHCR) launched a third-country resettlement program, offering the displaced Bhutanese both a ray of hope and a path to citizenship elsewhere. By 2019, more than 113,500 refugees had relocated to eight different countries, with the majority settling in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. Approximately 96,000 Bhutanese resettled in the United States.

Following the resettlement program, only two of the original seven refugee camps—Beldangi and Pathri in Jhapa district—remain operational, housing around 6,300 residents. These individuals either declined third-country resettlement in the hope of returning to their homeland, Bhutan, or missed the opportunity due to a lack of valid documentation.

Now, the four men have rejoined camp life. All four had U.S. Green Cards—despite this, the Trump administration deported them. Officials suspected them of criminal acts. Some had finished long jail terms. Then ICE took them for deportation. After days in custody, they were taken to Paro, Bhutan, via New Delhi.

At Paro Airport, Bhutanese officials interrogated them but refused to recognize them as citizens. Authorities escorted them out through the Phuentsholing-Jaigaon border. Each received INR 30,000 (about USD 350).

“With nowhere to go, my son and the others decided to come to Nepal. They had no documents to show at the border, so they had to cross illegally with help from an Indian fixer,” explains Narayan.

Bhutan’s refusal to recognize the deportees as citizens has resulted in a diplomatic impasse between the two Himalayan countries. 

“The order from the Supreme Court of Nepal to stop deportation gives these men temporary relief but doesn’t solve the bigger problem,” said Dr. Gopal Krishna Siwakoti, President of INHURED International, a human rights organization. “The court only directed the government to finish its investigation within 60 days, leaving their future uncertain after that period.”

“Nobody seems to have clear answers in this complex situation,” Siwakoti noted, describing it as a “bureaucratic black hole.”

“We had hoped the Supreme Court would direct the government to start diplomatic talks with Bhutan, India, and the USA at the same time, considering these men were essentially made stateless and moved between countries against their will. Unfortunately, the issue wasn’t mentioned in the ruling,” Siwakoti added.

So far, America has deported 24 Bhutanese refugees. Besides the four men in Nepal, there are no official records on the whereabouts of the others.

United States Travel Ban

Bhutan, known for promoting the Gross National Happiness Index, has traditionally maintained favorable diplomatic relations with the United States. However, since early this year,  Bhutan has been included in a draft “Red List” proposed by the United States government.

This list suggested a complete travel ban for citizens of certain countries, including Bhutan, due to concerns over national security and irregular migration patterns. The U.S. Department of Homeland Security reported a 37 percent increase in visa violations. Reportedly, over 200 Bhutanese nationals were found to be residing illegally in the United States between 2013 and 2022.

This policy shift appears to have been influenced in part by the unresolved issue of Bhutanese refugees. Sivakoti, a long-time advocate for resolving the Bhutanese refugee crisis, stated, “We understand that the United States administration had discussions with the Bhutanese government prior to the deportations. The United States presented documentation showing that while these individuals had refugee status in Nepal, their country of origin was Bhutan.”

On this basis, the United States contended that Bhutan should assume responsibility for these people. Bhutan, however, remained reluctant.

“The U.S. administration then took strict action and placed Bhutan in the ‘red zone.’ After such a move by the United States, Bhutan hesitated and was forced to evacuate these refugees,” Siwakoti said in an interview with Sethopathi, a Nepali news outlet.

Meanwhile, the Bhutanese government has reportedly requested a review of this decision, asserting that their citizens do not pose a significant security threat. As of now, the draft travel ban has not been officially implemented.

Meanwhile, the future looks uncertain for the four men stuck in the Beldangi camp and others who may face deportation in the coming days. Sivakoti says, “The complex legal and immigration challenges surrounding their cases make it unlikely that any country would accept them.”

“Today, resettlement opportunities have shrunk worldwide. There might be a small chance through family or institutional sponsorship in another country, but even that requires proper documents—like a refugee registration card or a travel document—which are nearly impossible to get now or anytime soon.”

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Jayasimhan Praveenraj looks at a specimen of the recently rediscovered Chel Snakehead fish. Credit: Diwash Gahatraj/IPS

By Diwash Gahatraj
NEW DELHI, Apr 23 2025 (IPS)

The Chel Snakehead fish, thought to be extinct, has made a dramatic comeback to the eastern Himalayan ecosystem after more than 85 years of absence near its source river in India.

Scientifically known as Channa amphibeus, its reemergence has delighted scientists and conservationists. The fish was found near its source river in Gorubathan, a tiny hamlet in the Kalimpong district of West Bengal. River Chel is a tributary of the Teesta River.

Two zoologists, Shaw and Shebbeare, collected the last specimens of Channa amphibeus in colonial India in 1938. Since then, despite numerous surveys, no one has found this mysterious fish until September 2024.

“I first learned about this species in 2007 during my bachelor’s in fisheries science,” says Dr. Praveenraj Jayasimhan, the 35-year-old scientist who led the rediscovery effort. “I considered it either to be a myth or simply an unusual variant of another species.”

Praveenraj, who works as a scientist at ICAR-CIARI in the Andamans and holds a PhD in Aquatic Animal Health Management, has previously rediscovered other lost fish species and discovered 19 new species. He has been working on Indian fishes since 2015, but the Chel Snakehead presented a unique challenge.

The breakthrough came in 2024 when Praveenraj received a video from a friend showing what appeared to be the lost fish. “Tracking down the location proved challenging,” he explains. “We initially suspected the video might be a morphed one.”

Through persistent effort and interviews with local communities, Praveenraj and his team—including Dr. Moulitharan Nallathambi, Tejas Thackeray, and Gourab Kumar Nanda—were ultimately able to pinpoint the fish’s location in the villages near the Chel River in northern Bengal.

In an interview with IPS, Praveenraj clarifies that the  fish didn’t actually vanish; rather, it’s an extremely elusive species with burrowing behavior so can only be observed during the monsoon season.

“No serious attempts had been made to locate it for decades,” he says.

Read the excerpts of the interview below.

IPS: What does the rediscovery of the Chel snakehead mean for biodiversity and conservation?

Praveenraj: A fish that was thought to be extinct for a long time has now been found. It reflects our limited understanding of our natural world. For example, the Himalayan region is still unknown. Just like we have the mysterious stories of the Himalayan Yeti, Channa amphibeus is also an animal that existed, but no one attempted the search operation because it required a lot of funding and local support. This highlights how limited our understanding of the natural world truly is.

It was a five-member team, including me. The team consisted of Nallathambi, assistant professor at Tamil Nadu fisheries university, N. Balaji, a fish hobbyist and taxonomist from Mumbai; Tejas Thackeray from the Thackeray Wildlife Foundation; and Nanda, a  zoology student from Odisha.

IPS: Tell me about your research process—like the methodology, timeline, and a little description of your team.

Praveenraj: It was very surprising for us. We collected the samples in September 2024 and initially I was stunned to see the fish for the first time. We photographed them alive using high-resolution cameras to note the color patterns, as these were the only specimens through which the general public and the scientific community could see them alive. We stabilized some in ethanol and formalin for further study. We counted the number of scales and fins to compare it with the older literature on Channa amphibeus of Shaw & Shebbeare in 1938. We studied the DNA of C. amphibeus. They were the first DNA sequences to be generated for amphibians. In addition, I used X-rays to note the count of vertebrae. The whole process usually takes very long; it takes months. We were extremely eager to complete the task. We were able to finish the process in one month.

IPS: River Teesta and its tributaries are home to several vulnerable species, like the Mahseer, Snow Trout, and Indian Catfish. How do you see the rediscovery of the Chel snakehead influencing the overall understanding of biodiversity in the region?

Praveenraj: The biodiversity of the Indian Himalayan regions is still underestimated. We can still meet new species if properly surveyed. Unfortunately, no agency or institution specifically provides funding for taxonomic research. The rediscovery of the Chel snakehead shows that ideal habitats still exist in these rivers for the species to survive, although there has been much habitat degradation in these areas over the years.

IPS: In your research, what were your findings about the state of our Himalayan rivers and their biodiversity? Kindly elaborate.

Praveenraj: I see a lot of potential in that region. The Himalayas stretch for about 2,400 km as an arc from west-northwest to east-southeast across the northern tip of the Indian subcontinent. These mountains are the source of some of the region’s major rivers, including the Ganges, Brahmaputra, and Indus, which help regulate the climate of much of the subcontinent and beyond. Unfortunately, there is no comprehensive checklist for the fish species found in these rivers, and there are no concrete studies discussing small and cryptic fish species. Of course, there are some checklists, but most of those tasks were based on the Fish Landing Center Survey. I believe that the number of fish species could be more than what we currently assume, a total of 600 species.

 IPS: In your research, have you found any impact on aquatic life due to the rapid increase in anthropogenic activities (like construction of dams and railway lines, highways, and buildings)?

Praveenraj: Yes, these anthropogenic activities are always happening because of development. We can see habitats being destroyed. But still such species can be found in small pockets in remote areas.

IPS: How do you see the role of local communities, like the one in Gorubathan or the nearby region, in the conservation of these species going forward?

Praveenraj: The species, locally known as Bura chung or Bora chang, is considered a special delicacy and is typically collected in small quantities for food. The local community possesses valuable indigenous knowledge regarding the collection of this fish. It’s traditionally kept as a secret diet, primarily reserved for pregnant women. While the local population may not be fully aware of the species’ conservation status, our interviews with locals suggest that the fish is found in significant numbers during the monsoon season. It hibernates in winter and burrows into deep horizontal holes during the summer when water is scarce. Since it is harvested in low numbers for food, I don’t feel there is a threat to this species.

IPS: How important do you think it is to raise public awareness about species like the Chel snakehead?

Praveenraj: Since the fish comes from a very remote location, we believe that some kind of local awareness is required for the local community to protect it. We managed to provide them with information about the fish for local conservation. For example, we asked them to provide us with its life history traits to fully understand its habitat and breeding nature. We have also advised them to do sustainable harvesting during their hibernation time.

IPS: There has been an increasing interest in ornamental fish varieties, including snakeheads, across Asia. How do you think this rising demand for ornamental fish could affect the conservation of native species in the Teesta River, especially if such fish are overharvested for trade?

Praveenraj: As of now, only a few fish species are collected from the Teesta for the aquarium trade; however, these fish are regularly fished by the local communities for food. It is their staple diet. Anthropogenic activities like sand mining, railway lines, pollution, and discharge from tea plantations have more impact than the collection attempts for the aquarium trade.

IPS: From a policy standpoint, how can the government of India, particularly in states like West Bengal and Sikkim, enhance conservation efforts for vulnerable species in the Teesta River?

Praveenraj: The government can establish a captive breeding program and habitat restoration programme  for the vulnerable or threatened fishes and do periodic ranching; that is how we can conserve species.

IPS: What are the gaps in existing policies that need to be addressed?

Praveenraj: Fishes need to be given priority like we give for higher vertebrates. Pollution and sand mining have to be prevented. Research institutions in each state must breed their own local indigenous fish species and do periodic ranching.

IPS: Looking ahead, what do you believe the rediscovery of the Chel snakehead signifies for future research and conservation in the region?

Praveenraj: Lots to be explored; however, we hardly have any taxonomists working on freshwater fishes in India, hardly any, about six or eight people. We need to strengthen biodiversity studies and focus more on our indigenous fishes. Rediscovery of the Chel snakehead signifies how ignorant we are to ignore a large snakehead fish for decades.

 IPS: What should be the next steps in ensuring the survival of this species and others in similar ecosystems?

Praveenraj: The next step is to breed these snakeheads, which will sustain the fish in captivity. Aquarium hobby has sustained many fishes in captivity despite local extinction of the same in the wild. We must breed and conserve our Indian megafauna rather than banning them or including them in the Wildlife Protection Act, which has no meaning at all. Research institutions must come forward and attempt captive breeding for this beautiful and elusive snakehead.

IPS: Lastly, How can local communities, scientists,  researchers, and the general public collaborate in preserving biodiversity?

Praveenraj: They must work together to preserve our local biodiversity. This is an era of digital technology; many are using social media to report new species and alien fish species, which are contributing to scientists and researchers. We hope that this understanding continues to grow.

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The Giant Plastic Tap installation by Canadian artist Benjamin Von Wong.

By Diwash Gahatraj
NEW DELHI, Mar 28 2025 (IPS)

“The size of the faucet highlights the magnitude of the problem. It makes the problem impossible to ignore. We’re used to throwing things ‘away’—but when we’re confronted with what happens when ‘away’ is not an option, I think it creates an emotional wake-up call,” says Benjamin Von Wong.

The 39-year-old Canadian artist and activist is referring to his inspiration behind The Giant Plastic Tap installation, which created a buzz in the art world, highlighting the problem of plastic pollution.

Wong, known for his environmental art installations and hyper-realist art style, created the Giant Plastic Tap that features an oversized faucet seemingly floating in mid-air while spewing plastic waste, serving as a striking metaphor for the world’s urgent need to address plastic production at its source.

He explains, “I wanted to bring the phrase ‘Turn off the plastic tap’ to life in a tangible way. I adapted the concept of the ‘floating fountain’ but distorted it with plastic—to emphasize the urgency of tackling the problem at its source by reducing plastic production, rather than relying solely on downstream solutions like recycling and beach cleanups.”

Reportedly, the global effects of plastic pollution are becoming more evident, highlighting the urgent need for collective action. Scientific studies and policy changes are essential but it is also crucial to acknowledge the influence of art in raising awareness and inspiring people to act.

Art has a unique power to evoke emotions, ignite conversations, and build a deep connection between individuals and the environment.

In the fight against plastic pollution, one art installation has become a powerful symbol of change, with Wong playing an important role.

Plastic pollution is one of the biggest crises of this generation.

The latest study, by charity EA Earth Action and released last year, revealed that more than a third of plastic waste will be improperly handled at the end of its lifecycle. This equates to 68.6 million tonnes of plastic, translating to an average of 28kg of plastic waste per person worldwide. In 2024, approximately 220 million tonnes of plastic waste were generated, marking a 7.11 percent increase since 2021.

Canadian artist Benjamin Von Wong.

Art installed so far

Von Wong, who shifted from mining engineering to environmental activism through art, has created four large-scale faucet installations, showcased at venues including Art Basel, the United Nations Environment Assembly 5.2 in Nairobi (2022), and the United Nations Ocean Conference.

“We’ve installed them in over a dozen locations—but even more exciting is that hundreds of cardboard replicas have been made worldwide,” Wong says.

Wong reflects, “I’m not sure how you measure the impact of art, but I think the fact that this installation has become a symbol for the importance of a global plastic treaty is probably the biggest achievement.”

The Giant Plastic Tap has been featured at previous INC (Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee for the plastic treaty) sessions. However, its absence was notably felt during the INC-5 conference in Busan, South Korea.

Wong says, “I did my best to have the tap installation placed in Busan, but it wasn’t allowed. Instead, the ‘beached whale’ was placed on the lawns of BEXCO, the exhibition center that hosted the event last year.” He adds, “Despite reaching out over six months in advance to the operations team, the delegation, and securing local partners with independent funding, we were met with silence.”

Interestingly, INC-5 failed to reach a consensus on the global plastic treaty due to disagreements over national interests, industry influence, financial and technical support, and enforcement mechanisms.

Despite current challenges in global plastic treaty negotiations, including the presence of fossil fuel lobbyists and the constraints of consensus-based decision-making, Artist Wong remains optimistic about the future. “I’m certain we will find a way forward,” he asserts, pointing to the numerous dedicated individuals and organizations working to advance the treaty.

Meanwhile, after the Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee decided to postpone the fifth session, the second part of the fifth session (INC-5.2) is scheduled to take place from 5 to 14 August 2025 at the Palais des Nations in Geneva, Switzerland.

Involving locals

Wong involved the local communities to complete the installation at UNEA 5.2 in Nairobi. The project collaborated with the Human Needs Project to collect three tons of plastic from the Kibera slums. The initiative employed over 80 local women to clean and organize the plastic, ensuring their voices were heard by world leaders. “We also fundraised to support the creation of a more local waste management system,” he adds.

The installation has achieved significant success in its mission to influence public perception. Viewers consistently grasp the fundamental message about the need to stop plastic pollution, and the installation’s visual impact helps transform an intellectual discussion into an emotional experience. Its symbolism has become particularly significant in the context of the global plastic treaty discussions.

Lastly, can art play a pivotal role in driving real-world change? To this Wong draws a compelling parallel: “What is the value of a monument like the Statue of Liberty? How would you measure it?”

The success of The Giant Plastic Tap suggests that art remains a powerful catalyst for environmental awareness and social change, particularly when it transforms complex global issues into visceral, emotional experiences that resonate across cultural and linguistic barriers.

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Kmoin Walhang proudly sits next to her collection of certificates and citations that she has received after participating in several marathons. Credit: Courtesy Kmoin Walhang

By Diwash Gahatraj
SHNGIMALWLEIN, India, Sep 6 2024 (IPS)

Kmoin Wahlang, a 76-year-old woman, starts her running training every morning at 4 a.m. Dressed in track pants, a jacket, and running shoes, she sets out to navigate the hilly terrain of the small village of Shngimawlein in the southwest Khasi Hills district of Meghalaya, a state in northeastern India.

Even before dawn, despite the lingering darkness, Wahlang begins her run on the muddy ground of her village. As the early morning light casts a warm glow over the rolling green hills of the district, her pace exudes control and confidence, the result of several years of dedication to running.

“I love running; it’s very liberating,” she tells IPS.

Walhang belongs to the indigenous Khasi tribe of the region and says, “I run for two hours each morning until 6 a.m. and do another two-hour session in the evening as part of my preparation for an upcoming running event in Australia.”

The septuagenarian, who is a mother of 12, grandmother of 54, and great-grandmother of six, will represent India at the Pan Pacific Masters Games in November. This 10-day event held in the Australian city of Gold Coast features competitions in over 40 sports.

Participants compete in their respective age groups without needing to meet qualifying standards or times. The Indian super granny will participate in multiple long-distance running events, including the 800 meters, 1,500 meters, 3,000 meters, and 10 kilometers races. Kmoin Walhang is likely India’s oldest woman long-distance runner.

Kmoin Walhang before her marathon run. Courtesy of Run Meghalaya

Dreams Flourish Late

As a young girl, she played football as a goalkeeper. “Sports were something I always loved—but due to poor family conditions and a lack of opportunities, I never had the chance to pursue them at the right age,” she says. Walhang began running at seventy, an age when most people avoid extreme physical activity.

Married in 1968 at the age of 20, she put her family first, pushing her dream of being an athlete to the background.

“It was my fifth son, Trolin, who is also a marathon runner, who inspired me to start running,” Walhang says.

As she aged, she started suffering from gastric and breathing problems. However, through running and training, she healed her ailments.

“Running did for me what no doctor could. It fixed me,” Walhang reveals.

When she’s not running marathons, the septuagenarian cares for her paralyzed husband, who has been bedridden for the last few years after a stroke. She supports her family by farming, cultivating paddy and seasonal vegetables on her small farmlands scattered across the hilly terrain near her home.

Walhang has participated in over 40 marathons across the country, including both state-level and national-level events. However, when she first started running, people in her community laughed at her. “People in my village thought I had gone mad to run at my age,” she says with a chuckle.

Habari Warjri, co-founder of Run Meghalaya, an organization that promotes running among people from all walks of life and helps runners secure government and other sponsorships, says, “We noticed Walhang running when they organized the Mawkyrwat Ultra Marathon in her village of Shngimawlein from 2017 to 2019.”

Running Without Borders 

Habari and her husband Gerald, both avid runners, have assisted several long-distance runners from the district who come from economically disadvantaged backgrounds in participating in national marathons outside their state.

“Kong Kmoin was one such runner whom we helped secure government support for, enabling her to compete in various marathons across the country,” says Habari. In Khasi, “Kong” means sister and is used to address women.

“She is able to go to Australia because she participated in the Nationals for Masters athletes held in Hyderabad,” Habari adds.

Run Meghalaya did help Walhang to participate in the Hyderabad event by providing her with government sponsorship.

Mawkyrwat, located in the South West Khasi Hills district of Meghalaya, is characterized by hilly terrain, steep slopes, and deep valleys. It enjoys a cool, temperate climate with lush greenery.

In fact, Meghalaya—literally translated as “abode of clouds”—provides an ideal environment for long-distance runners due to its favorable temperatures, says Biningstar Lyngkhoi, the district-level athletic coach who has been training Walhang for the past three years. Despite its scenic beauty, the district relies on the state capital, Shillong, for essential training resources and facilities, situated 75 kilometers away.

“I take Kong Kmoin to Shillong twice a week so she can practice on running tracks,” informs Coach Lyngkhoi.  The state’s sports department has sponsored Walhang to and fro tickets to Australia, he adds.

Lyngkhoi says that Mawkyrwat, the district headquarters town, has a vibrant running culture where people love to run.

“There are close to 100 runners who compete professionally and participate in regional and national marathons. About half of them are over the age of 40, but Kong Kmoin is special,” he says. “At 76, she still has the ability to sustain physical effort over long periods, which is crucial for a marathoner. She also possesses the mental toughness to stay focused while running long distances.”

Lyngkhoi, who represented India as a marathon runner in the 2010 Commonwealth Games in New Delhi, believes that Walhang’s journey as a marathon runner embodies the spirit of passion, inspiring not only her community in southwest Khasi Hills but also people across India and beyond. Despite the challenges of age and limited resources, she motivates athletes of all ages.

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Green chillies, salt and ants on a stone mortar pestle depicts the process of how the chutney is prepared. Photo courtesy: Rajesh Padhial

By Diwash Gahatraj
UDULA, India, Jul 2 2024 (IPS)

On a scorching May morning, Gajendra Madhei, a farmer from Mamudiya village, arrives at the local bazaar in Udula, a town in Odisha’s Mayurbhanj district. He displays freshly caught red weaver ants, known locally as kai pimpudi, in the bustling tribal market.

Thanks to the recent recognition of Mayurbhanj’s Kai chutney, or red weaver ant chutney, with a Geographical Indication (GI) tag awarded in January, his business of selling the raw ants has seen a significant surge in profitability.

“Previously, a kilo of ants would fetch me around Rs 100, but now prices have skyrocketed. I sell a kilo for Rs. 600–Rs. 700,” he shares. The GI tag recognition has fueled the demand for the ants and highlighted their nutritional importance, previously overlooked as a tribal dish.

Chutney is a savory Indian condiment eaten with rice or chapati (wheat bread). Kai chutney is prepared by grinding red weaver ants with green chilies and salt on a stone mortar and pestle.

“For generations, many indigenous people in the district have been consuming kai chutney as a remedial cure for colds and fevers,” explains thirty-year-old Madhei, who belongs to the Bathudi tribe. In the landscape near the Simlipal Tiger Reserve in Mayurbhanj district, various tribes such as Kolha, Santal, Bhumija, Gond, Ho, Khadia, Mankidia, and Lodhas cherish this unique dish.

This year, the granting of a GI tag to Mayurbhanj Kai Chutney signifies a significant milestone in its journey from remote tribal villages to global food tables. This recognition acknowledges and safeguards the traditional knowledge, reputation, and distinctiveness associated with the chutney. It serves to preserve the cultural heritage and economic value of the dish while also preventing unauthorized use or imitation of its name and production methods.

Red weaver ants, scientifically known as Oecophylla smaragdina, thrive abundantly in Mayurbhanj district of Odisha year-round and are commonly available in local bazaars. Residing in trees, these ants exhibit a distinctive nesting behavior, weaving nests using leaves from their host trees. Due to their potent sting, which causes sharp pain and reddish bumps on the skin, people often maintain a safe distance from red weaver ants. However, in Mayurbhanj, where there is a significant Adivasi population, these ants are considered a delicacy. Whether consumed raw or in the form of chutney, they hold a significant place in the culinary traditions of the locals.

Nests of red weaver ants on trees. Photo courtesy: Rajesh Padhial

No More Tribal Delight

The traditional practice of consuming red weaver ants in Mayurbhanj has gained wider recognition beyond tribal communities after the GI tag.

“People across the State of Odisha knew about the ant-eating Adivasi tradition of Mayurbhanj, but the GI tag has helped to promote its nutritional values across all communities. This has created a high demand for the ants in the local market,” says Dr. Subhrakanta Jena from the Department of Microbiology at Fakir Mohan University in Odisha.

Jena highlights the nutritional value of red weaver ants, noting their richness in valuable proteins, calcium, zinc, vitamin B-12, iron, magnesium, potassium, sodium, copper, amino acids, and other nutrients. He suggests that consuming these ants can boost the immune system and help prevent diseases. Scientific studies have also indicated the dish’s nutritional value, emphasizing its high protein content and immunity-boosting qualities.

Traditionally, it goes to a dish for a common cold, fever, or body ache. The weaver ant, touted as a superfood, is known to enhance immunity due to its high protein and vitamin content.

“The tangy chutney, celebrated in the region for its healing properties, is considered vital for the nutritional security of the tribal people. Tribal healers also create a medicinal oil by soaking ants in pure mustard oil. After a month, it’s used as body oil for babies and to treat rheumatism, gout, ringworm, and more. Local residents also consume it for health and vitality,” says Nayadhar Padhial, a resident of Mayurbhanj.

Padhial, a member of the tribal community belonging to Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTGs), emphasizes the community’s heavy reliance on forest-based livelihoods. For generations, indigenous communities from the Mayurbhanj district have ventured into nearby forests to collect kai pimpudi (red weaver ants). Approximately 500 tribal families sustain themselves by gathering and selling these insects, along with the chutney made from them. Padhial, also a member of the tribe, filed the GI registration in 2022.

Sellers venture into the Simlipal Tiger Reserve and its surrounding areas to collect red weaver ants, which nest in tall trees with large leaves.

“It is a laborious process to collect ants from trees,” Madhei explains. Ant collectors use axes to cut the branches where ants make their nests. “We have to be quick to keep the ants in plastic jars after they fall on the ground from trees because they bite hard, which might cause extreme pain,” he adds.

The kai chutney of Mayurbhanj is renowned among the indigenous communities residing in the neighboring states of Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand. In the Bastar region of Chhattisgarh, it is known as ‘Caprah’, while in the Chaibasa area of Jharkhand, it transforms into ‘demta’, cherished as a tribal delicacy.

Growing Love for Bugs

Insects like ants serve as a rich source of both fiber and protein, and according to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), they offer significant benefits for human and planetary health. Entomophagy, the practice of consuming insects as food, has been ingrained in various cultures throughout history and remains prevalent in many parts of the world, particularly in Asian and African cultures.

The perception of eating insects, once considered taboo or repulsive in the Western world, is gradually shifting. Reports indicate that the European Union is investing over $4 million in researching entomophagy as a viable human protein source.

Internationally, entomophagy has transcended its initial “eww factor,” with some food entrepreneurs elevating it to the gourmet food category. Examples include protein pasta made from cricket flour and cricket chips, which are gaining traction in Western food markets.

Throughout history, humans have relied on harvesting various insect life stages from forests for sustenance. While Asia has a long tradition of farming and consuming edible insects, this practice has now become widespread globally. “With an increase in human population and increasing demand for meat, edible ants have the potential to emerge as a mainstream protein source,” Padhial suggests.

This shift could yield significant environmental benefits, including lower emissions, reduced water pollution, and decreased land use. Embracing insects as a dietary staple offers a promising alternative for obtaining rich fiber and protein in our diets.

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Damage to property from sand and silt deposited after the flood near Teesta Bazar in West Bengal. Residents in this region have not received any meaningful compensation for their losses. Credit: Ashutosh Kumar/IPS

By Tanka Dhakal and Diwash Gahatraj
KATHMANDU, Nepal & SIKKIM, India, Apr 26 2024 (IPS)

For the last three years, Sambhunath Guragain has been waking up every morning to a view he doesn’t want to see: discarded agricultural land where he and his family used to grow food, including rice, but the flood in 2021 changed everything.

“We don’t have any crops now, but we are farmers,” Guragain said in November 2021, while looking towards a quietly flowing Melamchi river. This was six months after the massive flash flood in Helambu-Melamchi in Sindhupalchowk district in Nepal. After three years, the situation hasn’t changed.

“It’s the same; nothing has changed. We are farmers, but we have to buy everything,” Guragain, who lives in Jyamire, a village in Helambu Rural Municipality 2, said. “And the river is flowing in parts of our farmland, while other parts are covered with sand, stones, and debris.”

In neighboring village Halde, Pashang Sherpa is still unable to recover his farmland that was swept away by a massive flash flood. “Destruction is still raw; there are damaged houses, and our land turned into a river and riverbank.”

In June 2021, the Helambu-Melamchi flood claimed lives and caused socio-economic destruction. Local people like Sherpa and Guragain, who were on the frontlines, are still dealing with the consequences.

In the same Himalayan region (Hindu Kush Himalaya-HKH), but on the other side of the border, communities in Sikkim, India, are dealing with almost similar situations.

For over six months now, Goma Sundas from Teesta Bazar has been residing in a relief camp situated on the banks of the River Teesta in the Kalimpong district of West Bengal.

“It’s been half a year since I witnessed the heartbreaking sight of my home being swallowed by the Teesta River,” she recalls. Early on October 4, 2023, heavy rainfall caused the South Lhonak lake in Sikkim to overflow, triggering a glacial lake outburst flood that surged towards the Teesta III Dam at Chungthang. As the flood breached the dam’s banks, it collapsed within minutes, causing havoc downstream.

Further along the river, the floodwaters wreaked havoc on the power station and bridge of the 510 MW Teesta V. Fueled by water from the reservoir, it cascaded down the hillsides, causing landslides and carrying a chaotic mix of water, mud, and debris.

Moving at incredible speed, it reached Singtam valley settlements in just 1 hour and 40 minutes, Kirney near Melli, West Bengal, in 36 minutes, and Teesta Bazar in 30 minutes, sweeping away everything in its path—people, homes, bridges, animals, vehicles, and machinery. Severe damage to lives, property, and infrastructure was reported in four districts of Sikkim and downstream areas of northern Bengal in India.

“I always dreamed of having my own home because I grew up in a rented one. It took half my life to build it. But in just a few seconds, the river swept it away,” shares 34-year-old Sundas, wiping away tears. Her house, once near a playground, is now submerged along with the playground itself. Sundas is now homeless and without a job. She used to run a small eatery. Over 200 houses in Teesta Bazar were damaged or washed away in the flood.

Sundas and nine other families now reside in a relief camp, seeking shelter after losing everything. Roshni Khatun, also in the camp, explains they’ve received donations for basics from NGOs and local authorities. Khatun’s family, like Sundas’, lost their home in the 2023 Teesta flood.

The government provided Rs. 75,000 (USD 900) in compensation to flood-affected families. Sundas mentions that the local government promised land for new homes, but six months later, they’re still waiting for it.

According to the scientific report, the cause of the Melamchi Flood was a mix of a small glacier lake burst and unusually heavy rainfall in the high mountains, indicating that climate change-induced extreme weather events are the reasons behind the pain that farmers are going through. In a time of changing climates and increasing vulnerability to disasters, mountain communities are dealing with post-disaster consequences while having little or no support from stakeholders and waiting for another possible disaster without any preparedness.

“We haven’t received any support to recover our agricultural land or find another piece of land to grow food,” Guragain explained, expressing his suffering. “We farmers are the ones who lost livelihoods and are ignored by the government from local to federal levels.”

Farmers Are Suffering and Neglected in Nepal

Almost three years after the floods, locals living in Melamchi-Helambu in Nepal are still struggling. Credit: Tanka Dhakal/IPS

Sambhunath Guragain (right) and his family lost their agricultural land and it’s been three years since they have been able to grow any crops. Credit: Tanka Dhakal/IPS

The Melamchi-Helambu flood impacted houses and fields which is affecting livelihoods. Credit: Tanka Dhakal/IPS

Even though the livelihoods of people living on the frontlines, like in Helambu-Melamchi, where the impact of climate change-induced extreme events is already evident, largely depends on agricultural activities, farmers and the impact on agriculture aren’t supported by stakeholders.

“We feel like nobody cares about us; we grow food-not only for ourselves but for everyone,” Dawa Sherpa (Pasang Sherpa’s wife) shares her bitter experience. “We are suffering and being neglected by the government. Nobody asks how we are surviving and what it feels like to be in a situation where we are not able to grow food.”

The local government confirmed that it has not taken any action to support farmers who lost agricultural land in the flood. According to the Information Officer at the Helambu Rural Municipality, there has been no effort yet specifically targeting farmers.

“We have only collected data, and it is true that we don’t have a support program dedicated to farmers because we lack resources,” Information Officer Top Bahadur Baruwal said. “The impact is evident; farmers are unable to find a way to return to farming, and we are not in a position to offer support in any way.”

The flood swept away at least 2200 Ropani (276 Acres) of agricultural land in Helambu and about 100 Acres in Melamchi Municipality.

“Farmers are in a painful situation,” Baruwal agreed, acknowledging the need to focus on farmers, but at the same time, he admitted: “We don’t have the resources to support them.”

Last year, they attempted to remove debris from the fields and constructed a stone wall to divert the river flow, but the August flood swept that away.

According to a recently published assessment report, the economic loss per household from the flood in Helambu and Melamchi amounted to USD 52,113, which includes agricultural losses as well.

The Locally led assessment of loss and damage finance in Nepal: A case of the Melamchi flood 2021 report reads, “On average, each household received only about USD 380, with some receiving as little as USD 76 while others received as much as USD 3,800 for reconstruction.”

Immediately after the flood, the government and aid agencies provided some monetary and food relief to the community, but soon after, they were forgotten.

“That flood ‘killed farmers.’ We are now farmers in name only,” Guragain said as he looked at the river flowing through his agricultural land. “The local government provided a small amount to rebuild houses, but nothing to help us find our livelihood, our agriculture.”

In Sikkim, Housing Is Where Locals Are Struggling

Goma Sundas, who lost her house, now lives in temporary housing in a relief camp in Teesta Bazar while waiting for support to build a house. Credit: Ashutosh Kumar/IPS

A damaged truck sits on top of a silt deposit in Rangpo, Sikkim. Credit: Ashutosh Kumar/IPS

Sand and silt deposits are still present after the 2023 floods in Rangpo, Sikkim. Credit: Ashutosh Kumar/IPS

After almost three years of the massive flood, locals in Helambu and Melamchi are still building houses with nominal support from the government. However, in north Bengal and Sikkim in India, which also experienced a massive flood in 2023, affected families are still living in temporary or community buildings.

In Sikkim, flood victims who lost or had their houses damaged received nearly twice as much compensation compared to what Bengal provided.

“My family got 130 thousand rupees (USD1558) as compensation from the Sikkim government after my house got damaged in the flood,” says Ved Sharma, who lives in the Industrial Belt (IBM) area of Rangpo.

Rangpo is a town near West Bengal’s Kalimpong district. More than 150 houses in the Industrial Belt (IBM) area of Rangpo, situated along the Teesta riverbanks, were affected. Sharma mentioned that most residents whose houses were damaged or still submerged in the flood are currently living in rented homes nearby. He too has lived with his family for over six months in a two-room rented house.

The compensation is solely for Sikkim residents.

“We received nothing because we’re not from Sikkim,” stated a migrant worker from Bihar who worked as a daily wage laborer in a garage. Preferring anonymity, he disclosed, “I’ve lived in a rented house in the IBM area of Rangpo for over five years. Now, my belongings are damaged and buried in silt and sand deposited by the flood.”

Rangpo and Singtam were hit the hardest in Sikkim. Near the riverbanks, settlements are still buried under sand and silt. Even after six months, many houses and shops remain partially submerged under feet of sand. Since we don’t know how many people lived here, we still don’t know exactly how many have been forced to leave.

Changing Climate and Borderless Pain

Nepal and India share the same mountain range, the Himalayas, which separate the plains of the Indian subcontinent from the Tibetan Plateau. This region boasts the highest mountains in the world, including the world’s tallest mountain, Mt. Everest. Scientists are warning of intense and worsening impacts of rising temperatures in the region and calling for action.

A recent report on the impact of climate change in the mountains of the Hindu Kush Himalayan (HKH) region–which is a combination of the Hindu Kush and Himalayan Mountain systems–published by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD), warned that the changes to the glaciers, snow, and permafrost driven by global warming are unprecedented and largely irreversible.

The report finds that glaciers in the HKH could lose up to 80 percent of their current volume by the end of the century on current emissions trajectories and calls for urgent action.

Research suggests that the flood in 2021 in Helambu-Melamchi, which damaged nearly completed major drinking water projects and affected communities, was climate change-induced.

This was seen in the recent Sikkim glacial outburst. Warmer temperatures make glaciers melt more, which makes these lakes bigger and less stable, and the communities downstream are more at risk.

Though local experts claim that GLOF in Sikkim may have been an ecological event, the ensuing disaster and destruction were undoubtedly worsened by the cascade dams along the Teesta’s course and unplanned housing on the river banks.

Despite numerous warnings, people and administration in Sikkim and Bengal failed to anticipate the looming Sikkim glacial lake outburst flood.

Over the past two decades, government agencies and research studies have repeatedly highlighted the potential for glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) in Sikkim, posing significant threats to life and property.

A study conducted by the National Remote Sensing Centre and the Indian Space Research Organisation in 2012–2013 examined the formation of a moraine-dammed glacial lake at the snout of the South Lhonak glacier and the associated risks.

Ritwick Dutta, the lawyer representing the Affected Citizens of Teesta (ACT) in their litigation against NHPC (National Hydroelectric Power Corporation), an Indian hydroelectric power generation company, emphasized the urgency of not constructing the Chumthang Dam Teesta-III hydroelectric project before the National Environment Appellate Authority.

Dutta highlighted the imminent dangers posed by climate change and glacial lake floods. He remarked, “Despite our efforts, the authority dismissed our case, dismissing most of our concerns as fear mongering. However, within just 15 years, reality spoke for itself when the Chumthang Dam became the first hydropower project to be entirely demolished by a GLOF.”

The 1,200-megawatt hydropower project was constructed in 2008. It was built at a staggering cost of Rs 25,000 crore.

The plight of locals in climate change-vulnerable places is growing, and disasters like flash floods and their aftermath are adding another layer of suffering to the community.

Goma Sundas’s words resonate deeply.

“I couldn’t finish my education because my parents were poor. Now, with nothing and relying on charity, I feel like I’ve come full circle. I fear my daughter won’t be able to continue her education at a relief camp.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

This feature is published with the support of Open Society Foundations.

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