KATHMANDU: Maathi maathi Sailunge maa chauri dulaunelai; Hatkelaa maa maya ko guras fulaunelai….
The life of Sailung in Nepal’s Dolakha district, approximately 110 kilometers from Kathmandu, is far from the romanticized melody sung by Kunti Moktan, a song that has resonated for decades.
Here, there are no rhythmic “maichangs” (young ladies in Tamang language) swaying to soulful tunes, no “cyangba” (young man in Tamang language) beating drums with festive zeal.
Nor is life as picturesque as a brief visit to a farm for selfies and a fleeting sense of wonder.
Instead, Sailung tells tales of hunger, leaking roofs, and the shattered dreams of its youth. It echoes with the cries of farmers struggling without fertilizers and seeds.
In Sailung, schools teach the alphabet, but often without teachers. Where teachers exist, infrastructure is lacking. Medical care remains a distant hope for the sick.
Despite these daunting challenges, Sailung presses forward, crafting a vision of happiness against the backdrop of breathtaking natural beauty.
With a solid education, children could achieve anything. No one should be denied success due to a lack of learning resources.
At the heart of this effort is Krishna Shrestha, a dreamer and sculptor of progress, shaping silver linings in dark, moonless nights.
Driven by a profound sense of gratitude, Shrestha is determined to repay the land of his birth through knowledge and wisdom.
His relentless pursuit of Sailung’s multidimensional development has kept him awake many nights, drafting and redrafting blueprints for progress.
Unlike the many warriors and gurus of the Mahabharata, a Hindu mythology, who found support along their journeys, Shrestha started with nothing.
Yet, he resolved to dedicate his life to uplifting the very land where he once stood empty-handed.
A childhood shattered by loss
Krishna’s story begins with tragedy. At the age of seven, he lost his father, Ganga Bahadur.
For many, the number seven might symbolize luck; for Shrestha, it marked the onset of hardship.
His mother, Gopini, became both mother and father to her two sons and two daughters.
Poverty and the burden of single parenthood were heavy on her shoulders. The struggles she endured then are far clearer to Krishna now than they ever were in his childhood.
Most families in their village lived in poverty. Education was a luxury out of reach for many, with schools located miles away.
Walking long distances to learn was the norm, but even that was a mirage for most children, as the system was far from child-friendly.
Two years after his father’s death, Shrstha’s younger brother, Sagar, was sent to Bal Mandir in Charikot for schooling. Months later, he was moved to Bal Mandir in Naxal, Kathmandu.
Fate soon intervened. A couple from the Netherlands adopted Sagar and took him to their country.
Meanwhile, Gopini continued to care for her remaining children with unwavering strength.
Despite the relentless hardships and societal scorn, she fulfilled her family duties.
Eventually, however, she remarried, perhaps seeking companionship and stability.
This decision, though understandable, left Krishna and his siblings feeling adrift once more, as if parental love had again been taken from them. They found refuge with their grandparents.
Years passed without contact with Sagar. Seven years later, a reunion finally happened.
His adoptive family, kind and loving, returned to Nepal to reconnect with his roots.
A fortuitous link between Sagar’s family and the founders of Rajan Memorial School in Balaju, Kathmandu, facilitated this reunion.
Today, Shrestha’s journey continues, a story of resilience, vision, and an unshakable bond with his homeland.
His ‘Sailung dream’, woven from the threads of loss and hope, promises a brighter future where education, health, and agriculture thrive in harmony.
The hunger for education paved the way to Kathmandu
During the conflict, the village offered little opportunity for education. Schools were distant, and the journey to reach them was filled with fear, as children were often taken away by insurgents or military forces.
Here’s what he narrates: At the age of 13, I left for Kathmandu, knowing that staying in the village would mean the end of my studies.
In Kathmandu, my first job was washing dishes in the Nepal Telecom canteen.
I moved from one hotel to another, working hard to earn a living. After four years of labor, I reached out to Rajesh Sir, the vice principal of Rajan Memorial School.
When he asked what I was doing, I shared my struggles. He relayed my story to my brother’s adoptive parents in the Netherlands.
Since my sister remained in the village, I got married at 17 to provide her with stability.
Together, we went to Kathmandu, where I enrolled at Rajan Memorial. I pursued Hotel Management in Plus Two, followed by Sociology for both my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. These studies inspired me to return to my village to bring change.
The education of children begins
While still completing my graduation, I felt a strong desire to do something for my village.
I had only studied up to grade five there, without ever grasping the basic A, B, C, D.
The quality of education was abysmal. In Kathmandu, I encountered a starkly different world with structured education, coaching, and tuition support—all luxuries unknown in my village.
My childhood was marked by struggle. I lost my father young, and my mother’s nurturing presence was absent for much of my early years.
His curiosity about their isolation led him to envision a school that would open their world. His foundation in the Netherlands took up his dream and funded a school building in his name.
In many ways, I grew up as an orphan. I resolved to return to ensure no other child would endure a similar fate.
I wanted to be a pillar for the helpless and a beacon of educational opportunity for every child.
With a solid education, children could achieve anything. No one should be denied success due to a lack of learning resources.
Driven by this vision, I started teaching 15 to 16 children in my small home for a minimal fee.
Their progress was undeniable. Encouraged by parents and villagers, I established Kids Learning English School in 2073 BS with official ward approval.
The first year welcomed 18 students; by the second year, enrollment rose to 45, and eventually to 145.
A second chance, but staying home
My brother’s adoptive parents once asked if I wanted to study abroad. While many see this as a dream, I chose to stay.
My experiences working in hotels and my newfound knowledge equipped me to teach children in my own village.
I shared my plans with my adoptive parents in the Netherlands. Their joy and support were immense.
At first, I worked alone. Later, my parents in the Netherlands extended their help.
In the same year, 2073 BS, I married, and with my spouse’s support, the foundation of my educational campaign grew stronger.
While living in Kathmandu, I often calculated the cost of starting a school in my village.
Unlike city schools, I didn’t need elaborate buildings. Simple classrooms with basic desks and benches were enough.
I discussed my plans with my parents and collected an admission fee of 500 rupees per child to buy seeds for our dream.
However, despite Sailung’s proximity to Kathmandu, high transportation costs make it challenging to bring goods to market at competitive prices. Broader support is essential to overcome these hurdles.
Two years later, a friend of my parents, Ton van den Brink, visited Nepal.
Tragically, he died while hiking in Manaslu. When he was rescued, 39,000 rupees were found in his pocket.
Although his family declined to take the money, it became the seed fund for a school building in his memory.
Ton had dreamed of contributing to Nepal. During his visits to Sailung, he noticed how fearful the children were of strangers, especially white foreigners and cars.
His curiosity about their isolation led him to envision a school that would open their world. His foundation in the Netherlands took up his dream and funded a school building in his name.
Efforts to improve government schools
With the rise of private schools, government schools in Sailung faced a severe decline in enrollment, eventually closing due to a lack of students.
This sparked a debate among community leaders, ward members, and municipal officials about the future of education in the village.
The consensus was to merge public and private schools to unify and elevate educational standards.
Two buildings funded by Ton’s foundation and other donors are now set to be handed over to the local government.
This ensures that the quality of education will be preserved. The donors requested that Ton’s name be honored, and the executive committee has promised to incorporate it into the school’s identity, preserving his legacy and dream for the children of Sailung.
When it was run by a private company, the school earned the ‘Best Award’ at the municipal level for three consecutive years.
The private entity managed grades 3 through 5. After the merger with the public school, it expanded and now operates up to grade 8.
When a dozer became a birthing aid
This story is deeply personal. It recounts my wife’s delivery. Although the health post wasn’t far, there was no proper road or vehicle access. We had to transport her in a dozer for three hours to reach medical care.
Even now, recalling that perilous journey sends shivers through my body—the risk and fear were palpable.
The memory of that experience motivated me to ensure no other woman would endure such hardship.
I appealed to the Tone Memorial Foundation, emphasizing the urgent need for a proper health post in our village.
With an investment of Rs. 5 million, the health post was constructed and handed over to the local government. Today, it provides essential services with the help of an auxiliary nurse midwife.
Agriculture and relationship
Connection with agriculture is a concept linking education, health, and nutrition—cornerstones of a prosperous village.
Sailung’s fertile land is ideal for agriculture. After addressing education and health, agricultural development became the next focus.
If parents engage in production-based agriculture, children will benefit from both better education and nutrition.
A three-year agricultural program is currently underway. Cleanliness begins in the kitchen, where family health starts.
Empowering communities through accessible services would not only improve living standards but also reduce the economic and social pressures driving people abroad.
By raising awareness both individually and collectively, we have prioritized cleanliness and sustainable farming practices.
We are introducing modern methods to commercialize organic potato cultivation, seasonal vegetables, and mushroom farming, with the guidance of foreign experts.
A farmers’ group has been formed to streamline the buying and selling of produce.
However, despite Sailung’s proximity to Kathmandu, high transportation costs make it challenging to bring goods to market at competitive prices. Broader support is essential to overcome these hurdles.
The pride of staying in the motherland
My sister lives in America, and my brother resides in the Netherlands. I had ample opportunities to leave, but my heart remained rooted in the village.
Some cautioned me against social work, warning of the personal sacrifices involved. But my passion lay with the children and their future.
Seeing children thrive in their studies fills me with pride. I could have sought wealth abroad, bought a house, and driven a car.
Instead, I chose to educate the village’s children. Tomorrow, when they achieve prestigious careers, I will be rich in their success.
My dream is not just personal prosperity—I want to see others succeed and prosper too. This is why I dedicate my life to nurturing the next generation.
Government’s mistakes in management
Federalism has brought the government closer to the people, right to their doorsteps. However, effective management requires identifying local needs and understanding where resources are lacking.
Clear priorities must guide investments. Collecting accurate data is the foundation for informed development planning.
Migration for foreign employment has surged in recent years. This trend could be mitigated with strategic investment in local education and health infrastructure.
Empowering communities through accessible services would not only improve living standards but also reduce the economic and social pressures driving people abroad.
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