1-7 February 2013 #641

The invisibles

The people of the far-west and the Tarai are suffering in silence because of the state’s short-sightedness and neglect
Hari Bansha Acharya
In my three decades as an actor, I have travelled to major towns and cities across the country. I enjoy meeting Nepalis on the way and the trips are always fun. This past month, however, the Antenna Foundation Nepal’s crew and I left the Valley with a different motive. We wanted to meet Nepali brothers and sisters, we wanted to understand their pain, and document their everyday struggles. Our journey took us from the far West districts of Accham, Dadheldhura, Doti, and Dailekh to the underbelly of the Tarai.
ANTENNA FOUNDATION NEPAL
SPEAK UP: Hari Bansha talks with teachers from Bal Maitri School in Bhim Pokhari, Baglung which has banned corporal punishment.



Despite abundant natural resources, Nepalis in the far-western districts are forced to live in unimaginable poverty. They are the forgotten people and there is little here to suggest the presence of the Nepali state. Poverty is rampant throughout the country as well, but this region is a different case all together.



Children are malnourished, parents and grandparents are too weak and ill from hunger, very few can afford healthcare. Hardest hit by the decade long conflict, the region is still struggling to come to terms with its wounds and deal with the staggering number of war orphans. Parents have no one to look after them and 10-year-old boys think about migrating to India in search of jobs.


Our leaders in the capital make anti-India speeches in the name of protecting our nationalism. But if they really loved Nepal they would provide jobs to the thousands of young men and women from the west who leave home and travel south every year in order to feed their families. If only the people of Accham, Dadheldhura, Doti, and Dailekh could earn a living in their own villages, they could send their children to schools, and the young educated ones would slowly end traditions like chaupadi.


When we filmed them, the people shared their stories hoping we would help them out. But all we could do was to assure them that the rulers in Kathmandu would hear their voices. It broke my heart to make such hollow promises.


The people living in the remote villages of Tarai are also suffering due to state apathy. They look at neighbouring Bihar’s extraordinary progress and feel disillusioned. They wonder: what went wrong? Development has come to a grinding halt, there is no electricity, no water supply, and jobs are scarce. People try to make a living out of a few hundred square metres of land or work as daily labourers.


The Madhes uprising disrupted the social harmony in places like Rajbiraj. Most Pahadis abandoned their homes and migrated to Kathmandu, Hetauda, Biratnagar, and north of the highway. Only those who had no other option dared to stay back. Today there are sign boards written in Nepali throughout the market. We ask the people if the authorities put these up forcefully, they tell us these boards have been here all along. They didn’t want to rewrite the messages in Hindi and writing in Maithili was hard. Madhesis want their Pahadi neighbours to return and blame the parties for igniting communal violence in a relatively peaceful, multicultural society.


It feels like the state has completely abandoned Nepalis living in these remote hinterlands. And in the absence of locally elected bodies and government appointed VDC secretaries who refuse to stay in villages, there is no one to listen to their problems, no one to help them.


However, despite the immense suffering Nepalis are fending for themselves. Families in the far-west make use of information from local radios and newspapers to educate their children on safe sex and warn them of the dangers of contracting HIV/AIDS while working in India. In Janakpur, street dramas performed in local languages like Bhojpuri and Maithili are making residents more aware and proud of their mother tongues. They don’t care about identity politics, they simply want to preserve their linguistic heritage.


Nearly 55 per cent of Nepal’s population is below the age of 25 and many of them live in the far-west and the Tarai. By turning our backs on them, we are undermining our potential for progress. They deserve better.


www.afn.org.np



Actor Hari Bansha Acharya travelled from the far-west to the plains of Tarai last month interviewing ordinary Nepalis for Antenna Foundation Nepal’s ‘Maile Je Bhoge’ (What I went through) program.