Nepal’s Constitution guarantees the right to housing under Article 37, mandates land provision for landless Dalits under Article 40(5) and requires rehabilitation of marginalised groups under Article 42. The Right to Housing Act 2018 operationalises these protections through Section 5(4), which prohibits evictions that render people homeless without alternative arrangements; and requires genuine prior consultation, verification of landless status, as well as adequate notice.

The Lands Act 1964 separately defines a “landless squatter” as an individual whose family has not owned land anywhere in Nepal and who cannot acquire land through their own or their family’s income or efforts. Section 52(c) provides that informal settlers who have occupied public land for at least ten years may be eligible for land ownership.

Both the Constitution and the Lands Act presuppose verification before eviction.

Nepal is also a State Party to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ratified 14 May 1991). Article 11 recognises the right of everyone to adequate housing. The UN Committee on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights — in General Comment No. 7 (1997) — established that forced evictions are incompatible with the Covenant [para 1]; that prior genuine consultation, adequate and reasonable notice be given [para 15]; and alternative housing for those unable to provide for themselves are non-derogable requirements [para 16]. Further, Nepal has endorsed the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which establishes free, prior and informed consent as a requirement in decisions affecting Indigenous communities.

Of the approximately 1.2 million landless families in Nepal, Dalit and Indigenous communities are disproportionately affected, as documented by Amnesty International’s briefing on forced evictions across Nepal from 2020-24. In every case examined, authorities failed to conduct genuine consultation, provide adequate notice, or ensure resettlement before demolition, disproportionately affecting said communities. The current national drive reproduces this pattern at a larger scale.

So far, the Supreme Court has intervened in three stages. On 27 April 2026, it issued a show-cause order directing the District Administration Office and Kathmandu Metropolitan City to submit written responses, but declined to issue an interim stay. Then, on 5 May 2026, while hearing another writ petition, the Court directed the government to submit within 15 days the legal basis for the evictions, whether procedures under the Right to Housing Act were followed, and what rehabilitation arrangements have been made for affected families including children, older persons, the sick, and persons with disabilities.

Later, on 8 May 2026, a joint bench issued a full interim order barring further evictions without due legal procedure, citing the risk of irreparable harm to constitutional rights and directing authorities to meet the basic needs of already displaced families. Notably, the interim order came only after major demolitions had already been carried out. As of writing, over 350 families remain in holding centres with no confirmed long-term rehabilitation plan.

The government has also decided to repeal provisions of the Lands Act through ordinance. The removed provisions required verification of landless status before eviction. Repealing them through ordinance, bypassing parliamentary deliberation, and doing so while evictions are actively underway, removes legal protections from people in the middle of displacement rather than building a framework to address landlessness systematically.

In the presence of robust legal frameworks, the legal obligations are in no way ambiguous. They cannot simply be replaced by a Facebook post stating “no citizen will be left homeless”.

Despite Nepal’s legal architecture to address landlessness in a rights-compliant manner, the current eviction drive reveals a deliberate choice to bypass it. The more pressing question now is that of compliance. With 15,361 people already displaced in Kathmandu Valley alone, the government’s obligation has shifted from procedural safeguards before eviction to immediate rehabilitation. Whether that obligation is met will determine whether Nepal’s constitutional housing guarantee retains substantive meaning for the people it was most designed to protect.

The Legal Framework: A Contentious Push for Control

The legal lynchpin for the ban is the Directive on Regulating the Use of Social Media, 2080 (2023), the objective of which was to curb misinformation, hate speech, and other online harms, making social media platforms more accountable under Nepali law. This directive requires social media companies to register with the Department of Information and Broadcasting, establish a liaison office in Nepal, and appoint a grievance officer. Notably, this directive is a direct consequence of a Supreme Court order by Justices Dhungana and Thapa mandating the regulation of unregistered social media and OTT platforms.

However, enforcing a complete shutdown is where the legal argument falls apart. This ban is disproportionate and unconstitutional. It has a chilling effect on citizens’ fundamental rights, particularly the right to freedom of speech and expression enshrined under Article 17 of the Constitution of Nepal. Even though the right is not absolute, in Madhav Basnet v Ministry of Information and Communication (2002), the Supreme Court held that restrictions on freedom of expression must be reasonable and proportionate, and cannot extinguish the right altogether. This approach was reaffirmed in 2006 when provisions of the 1992 Broadcasting Act and the 1991 Publications Act were struck down for permitting arbitrary censorship. By simultaneously blocking 26 platforms, including popular ones such as Facebook, WhatsApp, Instagram, YouTube, LinkedIn, and Reddit, the Nepali government effectively crumbled the primary spaces for communication, business, association, and organization in the digital age. Hence, the ban cannot withstand either of the tests of reasonableness and proportionality entrenched in Nepal’s constitutional jurisprudence.

Nepal’s Breach of International Legal Commitments 

Moreover, the government’s actions place Nepal in direct breach of its international legal commitments as a party to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), in particular Article 19. International human rights jurisprudence clarifies that any restriction on these rights must pursue a legitimate aim and, crucially, satisfy the test of “necessity” and “proportionality.” The UN Human Rights Committee (UNHRC) has consistently held that restrictions must pursue a legitimate aim and meet the strict tests of necessity and proportionality. Additionally, it has condemned internet shutdowns as being contrary to international human rights law. Furthermore, General Comment No. 34 (para. 34) emphasizes that restrictions must be the least intrusive means available. A ban that silences millions of users, regardless of context or conduct, does not meet this threshold, nor is it narrowly tailored. Instead, it transforms a regulatory measure into a censorship tool, collapsing the space for free speech, peaceful assembly, and democratic dissent.

Determining the Contours of Internet Access

Although the government did not cut internet connectivity outright, blocking major platforms had a functionally similar effect, depriving citizens of their primary spaces for speech, association, and civic participation. The right to internet access, increasingly recognised in international practice, goes beyond mere connectivity to encompass meaningful access to the platforms that make the internet a vehicle for rights. Constitutional guarantees under Article 17 of Nepal’s Constitution become hollow without them. As the UNHRC has affirmed, “the same rights that people have offline must also be protected online.”

Internet and social media crackdowns have taken place in the last five years throughout the Indian Subcontinent in India, Myanmar, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka. Although there have been resolutions highlighting the importance of such access, there remains a lack of further analysis on what constitutes “substantive” internet access. The UN does not provide a comprehensive definition of the right to internet access. This ambiguity in the definition of rights of access has created a legal vacuum where it is convenient to curb the freedoms on the internet rather than curtail the Right to the internet. As per the UN Special Rapporteur Frank La Rue, “access to the internet is not a right in itself but a means to exercise a range of human rights.”

The resuscitated social media, after the ban was lifted, elected Nepal’s first female Prime Minister through the popular gaming app ‘Discord’, which reflects the force of social media as a modern public square.

This is more evident than in Bangladesh, where the judiciary formally gained independence from the executive in 2007 following the landmark decision in Secretary, Ministry of Finance v. Masdar Hossain, 52 DLR (AD) 82. In that case, a group of lower court judges challenged the constitutional validity of executive control over the subordinate judiciary, particularly regarding appointments, postings, promotions, and disciplinary procedures. The petition argued that such control violated the principle of separation of powers enshrined in the Constitution. The Appellate Division ruled in favour of the petitioners, directing the establishment of a separate Judicial Service Commission and Administrative Tribunal.

This constitutional victory was supposed to usher in an era of impartial and efficient adjudication. Yet, decades later, litigants still face a judiciary crippled by staggering case backlogs, inadequate funding, and politicised appointments. According to the Supreme Court of Bangladesh’s latest report, over 3.7 million cases remain pending across all courts, a number that continues to rise each year.

India presents a similarly grim picture. With over 50 million pending cases across its judicial system, a litigant in a civil matter can expect to wait a decade or more for resolution. A 2022 report by DAKSH, a Bangalore-based think tank, revealed that 71% of under-trial prisoners had been awaiting trial for more than a year, many for minor or bailable offences. These delays disproportionately impact marginalised communities—Dalits, Muslims, and Adivasis—who often lack the resources or political access to expedite proceedings.

Nepal faces comparable structural bottlenecks. Judicial independence is constitutionally guaranteed but routinely undermined by executive interference, budgetary constraints, and inadequate infrastructure. In Nepal, the National Judicial Academy — responsible for judicial training, research, and capacity-building for judges and court staff — has noted that political patronage continues to influence judicial promotions and transfers, eroding public trust. Even constitutionally guaranteed rights become abstract principles without tangible enforcement in such contexts.

Judicial delay is not merely a flaw but the quiet undoing of justice. Justice becomes a broken promise when rights exist only on paper and remedies are lost in time. It is time for South Asia to reclaim not just the language of rights but also the power to enforce them. Beyond the backlog problem lies the deeper issue of systemic inequality within the legal process. Legal aid schemes in South Asia are notoriously underfunded. In Bangladesh, the National Legal Aid Services Organisation (NLASO) lacks the resources to provide adequate legal support to most indigent clients. Women, particularly victims of domestic violence or sexual harassment, face additional layers of delay and institutional indifference: a 2023 study by the Bangladesh Legal Aid and Services Trust found that fewer than 2% of reported sexual harassment cases in the workplace resulted in prosecution due to procedural delay, poor investigation, and fear of reprisal.

So what can be done? Institutional reform must begin with judicial appointments and training. Transparency in appointments, especially to the higher judiciary, prevents political capture and ensures merit-based selection. Investment in court infrastructure, digitising case records, and expanding alternative dispute resolution mechanisms can help reduce the backlog. But reform must also be rights-driven. Courts must prioritise cases involving fundamental rights, detention, and vulnerable groups. Regional collaboration through forums such as the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) could also help establish standards and share best practices in judicial reform.

The experience of South Asia is a stark reminder that constitutional guarantees mean little without the institutional capacity to uphold them. As legal scholars and practitioners, we must move beyond abstract legal principles and confront the procedural realities that shape people’s access to justice. When the judicial process becomes a site of rights violations—when delay denies liberty and inaction protects impunity—justice is no longer merely postponed; it is quietly undone. Rights that exist only on paper and remedies lost in time reduce justice to a broken promise. It is time for South Asia to reclaim the language of rights and the power to enforce them. Without timely adjudication, justice is not delayed—it is denied.

Child marriage is prohibited under Article 39(5) of the Constitution of Nepal, supported by legal frameworks such as the Children’s Act (2075) and the Human Trafficking and Transportation (Control) Act (2064). However, the enforcement of such laws remains inconsistent, often due to weak coordination between various levels of government and a lack of cultural awareness surrounding the issue. Currently, if one or both spouses are below 20 years, the marriage is not legally recognized in Nepal. Legislators in Nepal had earlier revised the National Civil (Code) Act, 2017 (2074), which set the minimum marriageable age at 20, which is one of the highest in the world.

Those who are in favour of lowering the marriageable age argue that it will avoid certain types of child marriage and legalize them by merely legalizing the age, thus taking such marriages out of the “child marriage” category, and that it may lower sexual abuse-related crimes since an 18-year-old is no longer considered a minor. However, critics see this as a retrogressive step that would justify and probably legitimise harmful practices such as sexual abuse and exploitation.

By lowering the marriageable age, Nepal is risking the progress it has made toward reducing child marriage and protecting young girls from abuse, violence, and early motherhood. The reason behind the current age limit was to protect children from multifold serious risks associated with early marriage, including domestic violence, curtailed education, and an expanded gender gap in development.

Adolescent mothers in Nepal face profound health risks ranging from malnutrition to uterine prolapse and increased infant mortality rates. The majority of such young brides face inadequate health facilities due to a lack of information about contraceptive measures, adding to the physical and emotional stress caused by early marriages.

The education of young girls also suffers in such instances as many of them are likely to drop out of school, denying themselves the chance to live a better and financially independent life.  Likewise, boys are mostly forced to exit school too early because of economic responsibilities towards the family. This results in a vicious cycle of poverty, low social mobility, and high vulnerability to gender violence and economic poverty. Additionally, unregistered marriages pose further legal and administrative barriers and leave children without the necessary care, including healthcare or education.

Marriage not only entails family obligations but also disrupts the course of one’s life. Child brides are more prone to heightened vulnerability to domestic violence, reduced autonomy, and eroded agency over their lives. Their right to live with dignity, and make choices about their future and career is seriously compromised. The argument to reduce the age of marriage glosses over these basic issues and presents reducing the legal marriage age as a way to prevent child marriage, without considering that marriage is a milestone in the life of any individual, the consequences of which will last for a lifetime.

Hence, this proposal has raised serious concerns about the country’s commitment to the protection of children and their rights. The broader social and health risks, particularly for girls, cannot be overlooked. In a country where child marriage has traditionally been a big issue, Nepal needs to be strong in the fight against it through legal protection of health, education, and welfare for young people. Lowering the age of marriage is unlikely to solve it; if anything, it might make the problem it is trying to resolve worse.

The 2015 Constitution of Nepal guarantees fundamental rights, including protection against untouchability based on physical condition (Article 24), the right to a clean environment (Article 30), and women’s reproductive health rights (Article 38). Despite these important provisions, a recent study by WaterAid found that over two-thirds of women in Nepal face exclusion from social activities, schooling, or work during menstruation because of entrenched social and cultural beliefs, taboos, and inadequate sanitation facilities. Challenges in menstrual health management are echoed across the globe, with an estimated 500 million people lacking access to menstrual products and proper facilities.

Nepal’s vulnerability to climate change adds another layer to these struggles. Despite contributing only 0.1 percent to global greenhouse gas emissions, Nepal ranks 10th on the Climate Risk Index for 2021. The country’s agricultural sector, crucial for its economy, has been severely impacted by agricultural droughts caused by historically low snowfall in the mountains and insufficient rainfall across the country. Women bear the brunt of climate change effects, constituting 80% of climate change-induced displacements globally; as well as face heightened vulnerability as they represent the majority of the world’s impoverished population.

Alarmingly, post-disaster economic hardships often hinder families from affording menstrual products. This is exacerbated by Nepal’s imposition of a 13% value-added tax (VAT) on menstrual products despite a citizen-led movement in favour of its exemption, advocating for period products to be added to the existing federal law that exempts VAT from other products such as art, contraceptives, and medicine. Initiatives like free pad distribution in schools suffer from poor implementation and corruption, leaving menstruating individuals without proper means to manage their periods. On the other hand, the global issue of period poverty and increasing demands of one-time use disposable period products raise important concerns about the sustainability of current menstrual health management (MHM) practices. The vicious cycle of ‘production is pollution’ prompts reflection on our contribution to both the climate crisis and period poverty.

Climate Crisis and Menstrual Health Management in Nepal

Nepal’s staggering annual consumption of 127 million disposable menstrual pads, generating 120 tons of waste, vividly illustrates the environmental toll of such products. Each pad’s 500-year decomposition cycle contributes significantly to land, air, and water pollution, directly affecting Nepal’s agricultural and tourism sectors. Mounting waste management challenges exacerbate pollution, raising local and international concerns due to the crucial roles mountain ranges and agricultural lands play in global and local ecosystems.

Often, escalating climate crises force reliance on single-use plastic pads, even for traditional users of reusable products. This shift, reinforced by environmental degradation, cultural taboos and lack of proper sanitation facilities in Nepal, emphasises the complexity of managing menstrual health amid climate-driven obstacles. Yet due to post-climate crisis economic strain, opting for single-use plastic pads poses a dilemma. Menstruating individuals face choosing between costly yet one-time-use plastic-pads or reusable pads without access to clean water and sanitation facilities, exacerbated by climate catastrophes. This underscores the nexus of period poverty, environmental degradation, and socio-economic vulnerability amidst climate challenges.

Can menstrual health management (MHM) problems and the climate crisis be solved by promoting reusable products alone? As the WaterAid study shows, 48% of Nepalis lack safe sanitation, with 75% using contaminated water. Pushing for the adoption of sustainable menstrual products without considering the contextual realities, including the disproportionate impact of the climate crisis, especially for countries like Nepal, unfairly burdens menstruating individuals in the Global South. Rather than solely placing responsibility on menstruating individuals in the Global South, global and local policies and practices need to intervene to address the ‘production is pollution’ paradigm effectively.

Glocalisation of Menstrual Policies

In June 2022, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights addressed the Human Rights Council, marking the first acknowledgment of menstruation in the Council. Despite this milestone, global instruments like the Sustainable Development Goals (SDG) and the Convention on the Elimination of All forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) have overlooked menstrual health. Over the past decade, activists and young feminists, particularly from the Global South, have played a vital role in shaping international discourse on menstrual health.

Building on its constitutional and legal commitments towards environmental and gender rights, Nepal has internationally ratified the Paris Climate Agreement and its Second Nationally Determined Contribution (NDC) in 2020. The country has pledged to achieve net-zero greenhouse gas emissions by 2045 and aims to integrate gender equity and social inclusion into achieving NDC targets. All 753 local governments are tasked with developing and implementing climate-resilient, gender-responsive adaptation plans by 2030. Additionally, Nepal has witnessed public interest litigation addressing menstrual discrimination, citizen-led movements to remove VAT on menstrual products, and public-private partnerships supporting menstrual health in schools and public places.

In conclusion, the Nepali experience shows that innovative initiatives will better contribute to the global discourse on menstrual policy and practice if these initiatives are informed by the ground realities of challenges aggravated by the climate crisis, ensuring that no one is left behind.

Read more:

• Menstruation Matters for the Realization of Human Rights
• Nepal registers First Same-Sex Marriage: A Glimmer of Hope for Global LGBTQIA+
• The European Court of Human Rights’ Gendered Climate Docket: KlimaSeniorinnen and Duarte Agostinho
• Giving Voice to the Vulnerable: How Advisory Opinions Have the Potential to Advance Climate Justice through International Courts

The Struggle

In the landmark 2007 case of Sunil Babu Pant and Others v Nepal, the Supreme Court of Nepal not only recognised LGBTI people as equal citizens who possess all constitutional rights but also acknowledged LGBTI identities as natural. Further, the court recommended anti-discrimination provisions for sexual and gender minorities in the new Constitution that was before the constitutional assembly at the time. The court’s progressive stance extended to the issue of same-sex marriages, with a directive for the government to establish a committee tasked with exploring issues related to such unions. The judgment therefore not only reflected a commitment to inclusivity and equality, but also set a precedent for legal frameworks that safeguard the rights of the LGBTI community, influencing social and legal progress in Nepal.

That committee tasked with exploring the issue of same-sex marriage was finally formed in 2010. Headed by Laxmi Raj Pathak, in February 2015 the committee submitted their recommendations to the Chief Secretary of Nepal. These included a significant overhaul of civil and criminal laws. Seven months later, Nepal enacted its current Constitution: Article 18 of the Nepalese constitution grants equality to all citizens, while Article 18(3) permits the state to make legal provisions to protect and empower various groups, including gender and sexual minorities. Yet in spite of these significant advancements, same-sex marriage remained illegal.

The National Human Rights Commission of Nepal emphasised in 2016 and 2020 the need for legislation allowing same-sex marriage to be enacted by the Nepalese government, to no effect. It was not until June 2023 that activist Pinky Gurung (along with 8 others) filed a writ petition in Nepal’s Supreme Court, seeking the legalisation of same-sex marriage and challenging the discriminatory system. The petitioner argued that denying LGBTQIA+ individuals the freedom to marry, as granted by Section 69(1) of the NCC Act 2017, is both discriminatory and violates Article 18 of the Constitution. Justice Til Prasad Shrestha affirmed these claims and passed an interim order to register same-sex marriages amid pending legislative changes.

However, when a queer couple went to Kathmandu District Court to register their marriage in June 2023, the court stated that it legally recognises only the union of a man and woman. When the couple appealed in the Patan High Court, the court again rejected the request stating that the federal government must change the legislation before the lower authorities could register the marriage. Undeterred, the couple finally found recognition in Dordi, a municipality in their home district of Lamjung, where authorities and the Ministry of Home Affairs acknowledged the union, concluding their struggle triumphantly.

The Way Forward

Although registration of this same-sex marriage is a moment of celebration for the rainbow community worldwide, it is important to note that Nepal continues to lack legislation relating to same-sex marriage. This means that marriage is still – as per the National Civil (Code) Act 2017 – only a union between a man and a woman. Due to legislative gaps, queer couples’ entitlement to perform activities accorded to heterosexual married couples, like opening a joint bank account or awarding alimony upon divorce, remains unclear. Furthermore, as evinced by the struggle faced by Nepal’s first same-sex married couple in registering their union, it remains difficult to officially register a queer marriage.

Nepal has long been a flag-bearer for LGBTQIA+ rights, from electing Asia’s first openly-gay federal-level politician in 2008 to protecting and empowering the community from discrimination through its Constitution. Nevertheless, spurred by the first registration of a queer marriage, the Government of Nepal must now decisively move forward with the process of creating legislation to affirm the equality of same-sex marriages.

In Sailendra Ambedkar v. Office of Prime Minister et. al., the Constitutional bench of Supreme Court of Nepal gave its judgment on the excavation of the Chure range. Covering about 13% of the territory of Nepal, Chure is home to valuable biodiversity and includes numerous national parks and wildlife corridors. It is also the main watershed for the plainlands of Nepal. This landmark decision authored by Justice Dr Ananda Mohan Bhattarai meticulously highlights the urgency of state actions for the protection of Chure.

Multiple writ petitions were filed against the Budget draft of the fiscal year 2021/22 which sought the excavation of the Chure range to extract and export riverine materials including stone, gravel, and sand to increase the country’s revenue. The petitioners claimed that an excavation of such large scale would result in major loss of biodiversity and protected wildlife. It would also lead to huge disasters in the Terai region causing floods and desertification. Such extraction was claimed to be against Article 30 of the Constitution (i.e., right to clean and healthy environment) and the directive principles and policies of the state. The petitioners sought an order to quash this disastrous policy which neglected the principles of environment protection and the right to clean environment.

The Court upheld the petitioner’s claim. The provision concerning Chure’s excavation was already removed by the time of the judgment, so the Court could have avoided the point. Nonetheless, to prevent future possibility of such extraction and the risk of destruction of the Chure, the Court issued an order preventing the export of stone, gravel, sand, etc… from any area of ​​Nepal until legislation is drafted for this purpose in accordance with the provisions and spirit of the Constitution. The judgment clarified that that although it is the authority of the executive agencies to make decisions regarding the sale and export of riverine materials, this cannot be done in a reckless manner destroying the biodiversity and ecosystem of an area of huge environmental significance. State agencies cannot become the cause of natural and environmental destruction of the country.

An important aspect of this judgment is the discussion of ‘ecocide’. Defined as ‘unlawful or wanton acts committed with knowledge that there is a substantial likelihood of severe and either widespread or long-term damage to the environment being caused by those acts’ by an independent expert panel, ecocide is being proposed as an additional crime in the Rome Statute. Although ecocide laws are non-existent in most jurisdictions (exceptions include France, Russia, Belarus etc.), it is being discussed in national parliaments, the European Parliament and at the United Nations Human Rights Council.  This judgment checks the Chure excavation plan against the expert panel definition and deems this project causing widespread damage to biodiversity as ecocide. It goes on to say that acts constituting ecocide cannot be accepted for any reason including economic benefit of the country.

The case highlights key principles of environmental protection: precaution and environmentally sustainable development. According to the Court, these principles are essential to the conservation and enrichment of the environment. The use of natural resources by the state must be sustainable and based on scientific facts determined by the Environment Impact Assessment (EIA). The EIA being the very basis of determining environment sustainability, needs to be conducted with utmost precision and suggests that legal actions be taken against those who intentionally prepare faulty EIA. The Court iterates that environmental complexity is increasing in Nepal due to climate change and urges the government to be mindful towards the life of and within the Chure and not view it solely from an economic lens. Being conscious of the geographic, geological, and environmental sensitivities of Nepal, this judgement affirms the principle of environmentally sustainable development as the “most fundamental principle” of the Nepali Constitution. Thus, scientists, policy-makers and the government cannot bypass environmental sustainability and its underlying principles in their developmental and economic activities.

Want to learn more?

• Listen: Christina Voigt on ecocide
• Read: Appraising the Limitations of Linking Climate Reparations to Human Rights
• Read: 365 Days to Access Justice: Nepal’s Precarious Rape Law Provision

The statute of limitation to file a complaint, in the case of rape in Nepal, forms part of Section 229 of the Country Penal Code Act, 2017. The provision, amended several times in the past, was reintroduced in 2017 under the shadow of a newly promulgated 21st-century constitution, past-progressive judgments from the judiciary (such as, Madhav Kumar Basnet v Nepal Government), a long-standing women’s rights movement, and internationally binding statutes and treaties surrounding gender-based violence. However, political instability geared by an intensely patriarchal society has profoundly contributed to where the definition stands today. Despite progressive judgments from the judiciary and Constitutional provisions protecting the fundamental rights of victims of crime under Article 21, the Nepali legislature has failed to deliver a comprehensive rape law. This legal provision, fostered by adamant heteronormative norms and legal loopholes, cannot adequately provide justice to survivors of rape.

Until 2015, the statute of limitation for reporting rape cases in Nepal incorporated a staggering 35-day limit from the date of the crime. This provision, in the past, has disempowered countless women, especially those that suffered at the hands of Maoist rebels and government military forces during Nepal’s decade-long conflict, thereby preventing access to justice for conflict-related sexual violence survivors. It has undoubtedly contributed to enhancing a culture of impunity amongst those guilty of having committed rape during war and peace. In 2015, the Act to Amend Laws to End Gender Violence and Ensure Gender Equality increased the statute of limitation for filing reporting rape cases to 180 days. In 2017 upon the amendment and reintroduction of the Penal Code, the legal provision, concerning rape, once again failed to account for the demands made by the civil society and the recommendations provided by international human rights organizations.

While international human rights organizations, like Amnesty International and TRIAL International, have been actively lobbying for the amendment of this one-year time restriction, matters intensified in May 2022 when a 25-year old make-up artist took to social media to call out her alleged abuser. The abuser, who routinely organized beauty pageants in Nepal, is said to have raped her multiple times when she was 16 years old, a minor under the eyes of the law. The current rape law, introduced in 2017, permits minor girls as survivors of rape to file their case up to one year after her 18th birthday. For adult women, it stipulates a one-year time period from the date of the crime. In the case of incestual rape, there is no express time limit to file the complaint.

Nepal’s reality remains far from the imagined utopia despite being cherished as a beacon for progressive laws. While the statute of limitation evidences itself as a significant legal loophole that potentially eliminates the possibility of accessing justice, the rape law continues to encompass multiple other glaring gaps and ambiguities. The rape law is gender specific, in that it only considers girls and women as victims of rape, ignoring the plight of young boys and men subjected to sexual violence. The sentencing law for criminals guilty of rape is informed by the victim’s age rather than the nature of the crime. In essence putting the onus on victims and survivors to “escape” rape as they transcend into womanhood. Past practices demonstrate that the government of Nepal has constantly resorted to piecemeal amendments of the rape law in order to momentarily pacify public outcry; never truly addressing the obstacles and hurdles that exist in totality and failing those who have been subjected to rape and sexual violence.

Nevertheless, it has been an uphill task to get justice and to ensure that the State delivers on its duty to investigate and prosecute perpetrators of crimes committed during the conflict. A particular challenge that has dominated discussions on transitional justice is whether amnesty should be granted to perpetrators of crimes committed during the conflict and how this would impact the delivery of justice to victims. It is this challenge that will be interrogated in this piece.

The CPA is silent on the issue of amnesty but it has been argued that Sections 13(2), 13(3) and 29 of the TRC Act could be read together to suggest that amnesty may be granted to perpetrators if deemed reasonable, except in cases of rape and grave human rights violations. However, this reasoning has limits given the absence a clear and consistent defintion of grave human rights violation. Further still, the Supreme Court, in Order 069-WS-0057, ruling in favour of 234 victims, stated that any provision of the TRC Act that is applied in such a way as to compromise delivery of justice to victims is invalid. This includes the grant of amnesties and the powers to divert cases from the court. It should be noted, though, that the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) has highlighted that no legislative or administrative action has been taken to further the Supreme Court’s decision

On 5 May 2016 a 9 Point Agreement was made between the current government led by Prime Minister Khadga Prasad Sharma Oli and the CPN-M. This came as a result of the CPN-M’s threat to form a new government with the Nepali Congress (NC) and the United Democratic Madhesi Front (UDMF) which would in effect topple the ruling government. The agreement was presumably made to retain support from the CPN-M and Point 7 of the agreement comes as a relief for perpetrators of crimes during Nepal’s civil war by pushing for amnesty. This inclusion has been tagged as a conspiracy to absolve the Maoists of their war crimes and a writ of mandamus was filed in the Supreme Court challenging the agreement. Unfortunately, the application was quashed as the Court stated that since the agreement is a political document judicial review could not be applied to quash it.

Many of the alleged perpetrators have also become wary of universal jurisdiction. After the incident regarding Colonel Kumar Lama, who was imprisoned in the United Kingdom for his crimes during the civil war, high level individuals who are said to have committed crimes during the conflict are now concerned.

It thus remains to be seen whether the granting of amnesty will be accepted in Nepal. On the one hand, there is the Supreme Court’s decision that the TRC Act should not be applied in a way that negates a claim for justice by victims. On the other hand, questions still remain as to what will be the consequences of the 9 Point agreement between the two ruling coalition partners, which includes a provision for amnesty. However, the fact that Nepal is a party to most international human rights conventions may (or should) lead to the claims for amnesty being short-lived.