Rain moves in slowly in Nepalgunj. In the mornings the sun shines down relentlessly, sending pedestrians scurrying between small pockets of shade. As time passes and the morning turns to afternoon the clouds start to gather. Collecting together on the horizon, the clouds wait in the distance for the sun to start its descent and weaken its grip on the city. By the late afternoon the clouds have swallowed the mountains in the distance and started a slow but steady march towards the city. As wave after wave of clouds roll out and take over the sky that night’s rain sends out a cool breeze as a vanguard.

When this breeze reaches the city and the sun has been subdued by the billows the whole city emerges from hiding. Crowds gather at the fruit stalls in the market, lawn chairs are brought out onto roofs and balconies, and every kid in the city with a bike or a cricket bat puts it to good use. Without a cricket bat to call my own, I have been enjoying the wonderful cool evenings by taking walks around the lake behind my house. Around the lake it is easy to find a nice spot on the grass to watch the sun set and the clouds move in. The lake is a popular place in the evenings and so I am serenaded with a constant flow of “Hello”s and “What is your name?”s. Usually a one word reply will get a satisfied nod from the inquisitor and send them scurrying back to their parents or friends to report on the experience of speaking with a foreigner.

While one sentence or word is enough for many of my neighborhood friends, on Sunday night I spoke to a trio of sisters for more than an hour, and our conversation only stopped because the rain started to fall. Santi, Loxmi and Pipa (that is a nickname) are the daughters of a neighborhood hotel owner. All three are going to private school and the older two speak English very well. Santi is around 11 years old and was the most inquisitive sister. No question was too private and no answer about life in foreign countries was uninteresting to Santi. Pipa is around 7 years old. She spent most of the time sitting with an embarrassed smile on her face while she resisted her sister’s demands that she speak English. When the pressure became too great she would run off to throw rocks in the lake or pick grass to put into Santi’s hair. Loxmi was the oldest of the three, and is in her last two years of high school. Loxmi dreams of going to Kathmandu for University and eventually working for UNICEF, but she is not sure her parents will let her continue studying. These three girls are the first victims of Nepal’s armed conflict who have told me their story. Loxmi is the only one of the three who was old enough really to understand what happened and so she related the story of their family.

Loxmi, Santi and Pipa are not from the Terai. They were born in the hill districts of North-Western Nepal. Their Mother and Father were from the same poor village in the hills, but were not content to stay there. For years the girl’s Father lived far away to work and save money to enable their family to leave the village. He would make several trips home a year for holidays and special events. Eventually his work paid off and he had saved enough money to open a hotel in Mangalsen, the biggest city in Accham District, another hilly district in the West of Nepal. Once it became clear that his hotel was successful and would sustain the family, he moved his wife and their three girls to Accham. With the income from the hotel he was able to send his girls to private schools and provide them with a comfortable lifestyle in the family’s new city. Several years passed and Accham became this family’s home and they were all happy and comfortable there.

It was around 2001 when the Maoists started coming to the hotel. Loxmi remembers the first time they appeared at the hotel. A group of them came in with their guns, ate their fill and left without paying. When her Father tried to complain they had pointed their guns menacingly and threatened violence if he spoke up again. This pack of rebels became regular visitors to the hotel. Sometimes they would eat, and other times they would just collect “taxes.” Loxmi has memories of the rebels sometimes beating her father while at on other days they would laugh, sing and give her sweets.

While these visits were fairly frequent, the rebels would usually only visit after night had fallen. The insurgency was strong in Accham, but Mangalsen itself was home to the district headquarters of the government and a fortified encampment of security forces and police. Skirmishes were frequent, and it was not uncommon for the girls to hear gunfire on their way to school.

In time the visits by the rebels became more frequent and eventually more violent. One night the rebels had attacked the girl’s father and told him that it was only a matter of time before they killed him and perhaps his family too. It was on this night that the girls were told by their Father that their Mother was going to take them to stay with an uncle in Nepalgunj. They quickly packed some clothes and left the next morning. It was not long after their departure that Mangalsen became the sight of one of the civil war’s bloodiest battles. Rebels attacked in force and overran the government position. At least 100 government troops died, a large number of civilians were killed and much of the city was destroyed or damaged. Among those buildings suffering the worst damage was the hotel where just a few weeks earlier the girls had been living. Fortunately, Loxmi’s Father was safe and he escaped the city to join them in Nepalgunj.

Loxmi’s family was fortunate enough to rebuild their lives in Nepalgunj. Their Father was able to start over again and eventually build a new hotel in Nepalgunj. The girls are back in private school and feeling more comfortable in Nepalgunj
(although they prefer the weather in the hill districts.)

While Loxmi’s story ended well, the fact is that most people displaced by the conflict were not so fortunate. More than 100,000 people fled their homes during the conflict, and many remain homeless, jobless and desperate even today. For a lasting peace in Nepal the story of these conflict victims needs to be told and their situation improved. While the government has plans for a Truth and Reconciliation Commission it is years away from starting its work and probably will be limited in scope.

Perhaps the void left in the meantime is one that NGOs can fill. There is important work to be done documenting human rights abuses that occurred, raising awareness to the conflict victim’s situation, as well as offering counseling and income generation programs. Perhaps this is even an issue a network of NGOs might approach collectively…now where could I find a network of Nepali NGOs?