By Narayan Prasad Mishra
For human beings, peace is the most essential thing. A place without peace is not worth living in—whether it is a neighborhood, village, town, country, society, or family. Wherever people live, the environment must provide them with a place to find peace. We all know that many things are necessary for peace. Those who lack food, shelter, and clothing cannot find peace. Those who are deprived of education and medical treatment suffer unrest—even those who receive a good education and qualifications but fail to find work or employment face great pain. There are countless such sources of suffering and restlessness. For the majority of people born in underdeveloped countries like ours, these problems persist from birth to death.
Many of us have already accepted these problems as an inseparable part of life—as a way of living itself. Because we have become accustomed to bearing and enduring these hardships, they no longer appear as the direct cause of our unrest. This is why we continue to live in peace even in the midst of overwhelming difficulties. Foreigners see our smiling faces and describe us as a happy and peace-loving people. And in truth, we are indeed tolerant and peace-loving by nature.
Even so, whether rich or poor, educated or uneducated, all human beings hope for equality, justice, and the rule of law. These are indispensable elements for any individual or group to live peacefully in any society. Where these do not exist, it is impossible to imagine people living in peace. Injustice, oppression, discrimination, humiliation, and hatred are unbearable to any human heart.
No matter what is written in the constitution and the laws—no matter how many rights are guaranteed—our country remains extremely weak in implementing them. In practice, equality and justice here are like an elephant’s tusks: one set for display, another for chewing. There are plenty of laws, but ordinary people rarely get to experience or benefit from them. It is widely known that in our government offices, the intention is not to process the work of people who come for services quickly and efficiently. Instead, the prevailing practice is to create obstacles, delays, and unnecessary complications so that officials can extract small or large sums of money from the citizens seeking services. In other words, the mindset and intention are not about how to complete the work swiftly, but rather about how to put up hurdles and avoid doing the work unless a bribe is paid.
A striking example is the recent tragic incident of a father and daughter who took their own lives after being unable to obtain citizenship. They fought the state for years, faced endless court battles, and won according to the court’s verdict; yet, they still could not receive the citizenship they were legally entitled to due to manipulation, delays, and bureaucratic obstacles at the ward office and other agencies. Just hearing about this is painful, tragic, heartbreaking, soul-crushing—an alarming picture of misrule and disorder that shames our nation. It reveals the absence of equality, justice, and good governance; the dominance of those with access and influence; the suffering of the vulnerable; the strength of the wealthy; the power of political groups and organized crime; and the countless hidden stories buried within the state’s machinery.
A photo of news about the suicide death of the father and daughter
Over the past few decades, I, along with my relatives, neighbors, friends, and colleagues, have witnessed and endured numerous unbearable experiences across various government offices, including municipal wards, land revenue, survey, land reform, district administration, transportation, drainage and water supply, police departments, and ministries. These experiences have taken deep root in my mind. That is why the tragic image of the father and daughter who died from unbearable suffering returns to me again and again. It frightens me.
Victims know very well that in our country, except for those with access to powerful individuals, political groups, or the backing of hooligan gangs, obtaining justice is nearly impossible. One never knows which office—whether lower or higher—or which employee or officer will obstruct or entangle a matter in order to extract a bribe. For the helpless, there is no option other than enduring—or dying.
During the Gen Z movement, many land revenue offices, including the one in Kalanki, burned their documents. Those whose land lies in those jurisdictions must now present their old land certificates to obtain new ones. My own property is in that ward, so I am compelled to visit that office. But remembering the bitter irregularities I experienced there in the past, even a small task feels daunting. The very thought of going there dries my mouth. Imagining what kind of suffering they might cause fills me with fear. I am terrified. And I know that every helpless citizen who must visit any government office lives with this same fear.
Despite this dire state of governance, I believe that no political party—regardless of which government comes to power—has paid even a moment’s attention to addressing these issues. For the past three decades, the entire focus of every major political party has been to gain power by any means—fair or unfair—and once in power, to enjoy the benefits. Parties outside the government devote themselves only to toppling the government so they can take its place. They have shown no concern for the suffering of helpless citizens.
This is why around 7.5 million cooperative victims today are crying for justice, just like the father and daughter in Bardiya who died for lack of citizenship. Dozens of victims have already died because they lacked food and medical care. Occasionally, small and unnecessary offices are created, providing positions to party loyalists, but no concrete accomplishments have been made. What can be achieved merely by writing or speaking? In a country where the powerful are blind and deaf, what difference can writing or speaking make?
The recent, destructive Gen Z uprising has once again exposed the deep-rooted misgovernance in the country and reminded us all of the urgent need to establish good governance without delay. Yet the major political parties and their leaders show no sign of recognizing the powerful voice of the Gen Z movement or the legitimacy of its demands. Instead of acknowledging this reality, they seem intent on mocking the movement itself. Their Ravana- and Kansa-like behavior and arrogance make it feel as though the Kaliyug in Nepal has reached its absolute peak.
Thus, because of the filthy political game, our once beautiful and peaceful country is becoming unlivable for the helpless. There is no place to complain. There is no responsible authority or government willing to listen. In this situation, I see little hope for our country to rise—except through the birth and emergence of Lord Vishnu’s tenth incarnation, Kalki, who is destined to destroy sinners and oppressors and establish a new age of truth. Therefore, I pray for the birth and emergence of the Lord. From my heart, I call for the swift destruction of the sinners and tyrants of this nation. And I pray that no helpless citizen in this country will ever again have to die like the father and daughter from Bardiya.
The author is a senior citizen, writer of several books and articles in English and Nepali, and a retired official of the Tribhuvan University, Nepal.
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