
A Bankariya woman holds her kid while attending a public hearing organized by UNDP's Norway supported Parliament Support Project
Sometimes, field missions can be incredibly enlightening, while others leave you haunted for days for many reasons. My visit to the Bankariya community—a small yet resilient indigenous community in Musedhap, Hetauda, in mid-January was a deeply moving experience, exposing the stark inequities that persist—even within touching distance of Nepal’s capital.
Nestled in the hills of Makwanpur, the Bankariya community are fighting for survival, identity and a permanent home. For over two decades, they have lived on leased land in Musedhap, Manahari Rural Municipality, just a hundred kilometers away from Nepal’s capital. Now, with their 20-year lease set to expire, their future hangs by a thread, and their dreams of stability seems more elusive than ever.

A Bankariya woman voices her concerns do Members of Parliament of Bagmati Provincial Assembly at the public hearing
A Life on the Brink
Bishnu Maya Bankariya, a woman in her sixties, represents the struggles of her community. Her family of nine scrapes by on the meager earnings of her husband, a construction worker, and her younger son Anil, who juggles daily wage labor while pursuing his Grade XII education. Despite the government’s promises of employment for the educated members of their community, Anil has yet to secure stable work.
Education, which should be a bridge to opportunity, remains an uphill battle for the Bankariya families. While the government claims to provide free schooling, hidden costs and poor infrastructure make it a privilege rather than a right. "Five of my grandchildren attend school," Bishnu Maya shared with a heavy sigh, "but even with “free” education, the associated costs weigh heavily on our family."

Members of the Bankariya community and other locals attending the public hearing
Adding to this burden is the looming threat of eviction. For over 25 years, the Bankariya have lived on this land, yet they hold no ownership certificates. "We’ve pleaded with the government countless times for land ownership certificates, but nothing has come of it," she says with a sigh. As their lease nears expiration, fears of eviction by the Parsa National Park loom large. Her words not only made a big question that was and is left unanswered, but also implied evident fear and worry about her future.
Dreams Deferred
For the Bankariya, the lack of land ownership hinders not just their security but their aspirations. Santoshi Bankariya, an educated and determined community member gave me a glimpse of the frustrations that come with systemic barriers. "I wanted to start a small soap-making business, but, without land ownership, I couldn’t register it in my name and place," she shares. Only with the local Ward Chairperson’s help could she temporarily register the business, but the arrangement feels precarious. "How long can we depend on others' kindness?" she asked with frustration evident in her voice. It gave me another lesson on how one’s dream of doing something entrepreneurial for livelihood, despite several odds, can be shattered in absence of most basic right

Local men and women pay attention as Members of Parliament address the gathering
Sangita Bankariya’s plea was just as poignant. "We don’t need allowances; we need land and jobs. Monthly allowances of NPR 4,000 receivable every three to four months barely sustains us. What we need is dignity and opportunity."
A Community at Risk
Beyond economic hardship, the Bankariya people face the loss of their cultural heritage. "Only four people in our community can still speak our language," says Maya Bankariya with visible urgency filled in her eyes. "If it isn’t documented soon, it will disappear."

A woman holds her baby close to her chest while listening carefully to their concerns being addressed
Hearing about the children’s struggles was heartbreaking. They are caught in the cycle of poverty and systemic neglect. Many drop out of school by Grade 6 or 7, pushed into labor jobs to support their families. Poor infrastructure, including flood-prone schools and a lack of proper roads, exacerbates the dropout rates. This set of odds before the Bankariya families reminded me of my own family’s relentless struggle, decades ago, to enroll back into school to my own elder brother who had to drop out at grade 7.
Other stories shared therein showed that even for those who manage to pursue education, employment prospects are bleak. "Educated youth are still working as daily wage laborers," says Kumar Bankariya. "Without land or opportunity, we are trapped in a cycle of hardship."

A woman holds her face and pays attention to what the UNDP staff have to say at the public hearing
A Flicker of Hope
On January 16, the visit of lawmakers from the Bagmati Provincial Assembly brought yet another moment of optimism to the Bankariya community. For the first time in years, there was a glimmer of hope. Lawmakers pledged to push for landownership certificates and amend conflicting laws that hinder progress and their rights. Ward Chairperson Prakash Thapa assured the community that preliminary steps to survey and categorize the land had already begun.
“We will take your voices to parliament,” said Ananda Kumar Shrestha, Chairperson of the Industry, Tourism, Forest, and Environment Committee. "Your struggle is now ours."

UNDP Deputy Director, Bureau for Policy and Programme Support, Francine Pickup addresses the crowd present at the public hearing
The event, supported by the Parliament Support Project of UNDP in Nepal in collaboration with local organization, brought together key stakeholders to witness the struggle, resilience and determination of the Bankariya people. The Project conducts series of legislative activities to promote public-parliament communication, focusing mainly on the most marginalized groups and informs the policy decisions. Francine Pickup, Deputy Director of UNDP's Policy and Programme, acknowledged the community’s challenges and urged policymakers to translate their commitments into action

Francine Pickup smiling and reassuring the Bankariyas at the public hearing
A Dignified Future Within Reach?
The Bankariya’s simple demand—a certificate for the land they have lived on for decades—represents more than legal documentation. It is a plea for stability, opportunity, and dignity.

UNDP staff analyzing discussions between the Bankariya''s and the Members of Parliament
The community’s evolution from a nomadic to a settled existence is a testament to their resilience. But as the clock ticks closer to April, their fate remains uncertain. Will the government honor its commitments, or will the Bankariya once again be pushed back into the shadows?
For now, they wait—hopeful, yet cautious—aware that their fight is far from over. Their voices are louder than ever, demanding action rather than empty promises.

A Bankariya woman fondling Francine Pickup's face and expressing her gratitude
As someone who has witnessed their plight firsthand, I believe their struggle is not theirs alone. I couldn’t help but feel that while promises bring hope, they alone cannot pave the way forward. True change demands tangible action. In a pensive mood, a question resurfaced in my mind-
Bankariyas hold the roots firm without the soil,
Their cries for justice met with tears and toil.
A question still lingers- will their voices be heard,
Or will they fade, like a forgotten word?
I think, the question is also a test for Nepal’s policymakers and institutions, including the Parliament Support Project of UNDP, to ensure that the rights and dignity of marginalized communities are upheld.
The time to act is now!

UNDP staff and Members of Parliament after the conclusion of the public hearing organized by UNDP's Norway supported Parliament Support Project