On a recent visit, I had a first-hand glimpse of the New Nepal. This time, as soon as we descended from the airport down to the Ring Road, it was apparent that the capital had no functioning municipality.

Signs of decay and deterioration were everywhere. Garbage was piled high on street corners, the rivers were choked with sewage and plastic bags, traffic was unruly, streets were filled with poverty and masked urbanites, and the air pollution was unbearable.

But, like it is for all Nepalis, it was good to be home. And this was especially true outside the capital, where the traditional Nepali traits of generosity, friendliness, fortitude and a can-do attitude were still in abundance.

Every family I met had at least one member in the US or in Australia, and others were aspiring to follow them. The media was rife with political speculation, and it was quite clear that the only game in town was India and the Maoists. I had not realised that the parties had lost so much of their political space after 2006.

It was clear the public authorities had very little interest, time, or incentive to solve the basic needs of the people. It was all about power and politics rather than development and policies. Within two weeks of our arrival, the capital was shut down seven times for no apparent reason. The situation outside the Valley was not any better.

I kept looking for some good news amidst all kinds of stories of kidnappings, strikes, robberies, ethnic tension, political horse-trading, party break-ups, and a frightening number of motorcycle accidents. Finally, the good news came from an unlikely source: a community in Butwal.

There was a father of three children who had lost his wife to leukemia, and then there was a young woman with two children whose husband had died in an accident in India. The families got together and arranged a marriage between the two. Instead of spending Rs 100,000 on the wedding ceremony, they donated the money to a charity.

Now, compare that to a recently announced government policy of paying a Nepali husband Rs 50,000 to marry a widow. It's like rewarding a man for not beating his wife. The flawed reasoning behind this raises serious doubts about our government's ability to make sound decisions. The community in Butwal seems more sensible than the political leadership in Kathmandu.

This is what happens when a government becomes hopelessly dysfunctional, self-absorbed, outdated, unaccountable, unpredictably fragile, and doesn't have to face the consequences of its actions.

The rich and the middle class find their ways to cope by creating their own cocoons through private support systems. With a middle class gradually seceding from the society, millions of Nepal's underprivileged are left at the mercy of a government with no constructive civil oversight. So, how about instituting a mechanism to stabilise the government first by taking away the incentive to bring down the next governments.

This is called the 'Constructive Vote of Confidence Mechanism' and under it, the opposition party is required to pre-announce the slate of the incoming government complete with the names of the PM, and the ministers. Such a system exists in the German constitution, and could be applicable here in our own new constitution. India, plagued by similar horse-trading, is seriously considering this mechanism to control political promiscuity. Let's start with a stable government and put a watch on them.

That is just one idea to restore political stability in Kathmandu and to devolve political attention away from the lucrative Kathmandu power corridors. The rest of the country seems to be doing pretty well despite a non-functioning government. Our politicians have to learn from people like the two families in Butwal who turned adversity and tragedy into hope. Who says there is no hope for Nepal?

Alok K Bohara is professor of economics at the University of New Mexico.
bohara(at)unm.edu