Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli formally connected Simkot to Nepal’s national road network by inaugurating the Bailey bridge built by the Nepali Army over the Chuwa River in Humla. This news has undoubtedly sparked hope among the people of Humla, as their decades-long dream of road access has finally taken shape after 26 years. But can a single bridge complete the story of a nation’s development?
Consider the state of another remote district: the people of Darchula are still forced to use Indian roads just to reach their own district headquarters. Despite having Nepali territory, the lack of domestic roads compels them to step onto foreign soil—clear evidence of state failure, not just misfortune. Although Humla now has a bridge, many districts like Darchula, Dolpa, Mugu, and Bajura continue to suffer from a severe lack of basic infrastructure.
Meanwhile, Nepal’s economic situation is becoming increasingly dire. Despite grand announcements of development, no significant job opportunities have been created within the country. After completing high school, most young people see no prospects for employment at home and are forced to seek work abroad. The government’s failure to prioritize vocational education means Nepal is unable to produce skilled human resources, and youths end up migrating to the Gulf to work for low wages. Today, the country’s largest “export” seems to be workers sweating on foreign soil, and the economy runs almost entirely on their remittances—a fragile foundation at best. With no growth in domestic production, entrepreneurship, or innovation, foreign employment has become Nepal’s de facto main industry. Reports of Nepali workers stranded in the Gulf, working long hours for meager pay, or dying without their families receiving justice or compensation, have become tragically common.
At home, industrial development is virtually stagnant, and political instability has deterred large-scale investment. Rural areas remain barren of production, industry, or employment opportunities. As the economic crisis deepens, national debt has surged, weakening Nepal’s standing internationally. In such a scenario, a frenzy of ribbon-cuttings cannot replace the urgent need for long-term policy, transparency, and political stability.
Socially, Nepal’s glaring inequalities in education and healthcare remain unresolved. In rural public schools, shortages of teachers and poor-quality instruction have diminished children’s interest in learning, creating a crisis in educational quality. Meanwhile, the appalling state of public hospitals, where citizens often die due to a lack of basic services, has eroded trust in the state.
Political instability has been Nepal’s biggest challenge for more than two decades. Frequent government changes before the completion of terms have left long-term development plans unfinished. Political parties are internally fractured by factions and infighting, prioritizing power over ideology. This instability has made it impossible to implement sustainable plans or policies. Successive governments have abandoned ongoing projects in favor of announcing new ones, fragmenting development efforts. Corruption has become entrenched, from policymaking levels down to local administrations. Weak economic indicators and mounting reports of massive embezzlement have further tarnished Nepal’s international image. Institutions like the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA) and the Office of the Auditor General repeatedly reveal billions lost to corruption, but a culture of impunity ensures that only small offenders face consequences, while major culprits go unpunished. This has eroded faith in the rule of law, with political interference in criminal cases leading to impunity and growing public distrust in the justice system.
Discrimination based on caste, region, class, and gender persists in Nepal’s social structure. Equal access to economic opportunities, education, healthcare, and jobs remains a distant dream, and the challenge of achieving social justice is becoming even more daunting.
At the same time, from the prime minister down to ministers and high-ranking officials, the government appears more focused on inaugurating bridges and roads than on substantive work. Ironically, Nepali leaders often cite foreign examples in speeches, praising how developed countries manage their affairs. Yet despite having traveled extensively abroad, these leaders fail to learn the most critical lesson: in developed countries, inaugurations are not used as certificates of development. Instead, long-term planning and transparency are prioritized. Nepal’s leaders, by contrast, use inaugurations as proof of their success, trying to cover up their failures with ceremonial ribbon-cuttings.
In Nepal, infrastructure projects like bridges are designed through piecemeal plans that take decades to complete, and their eventual inauguration is treated as a monumental achievement. But do developed countries celebrate every bridge opening with the same pomp? There, timely construction of bridges and roads is a routine process, and inaugurations are low-key and purely formal. Leaders in those nations focus on long-term planning and sustainable policy rather than turning openings into political events. In Nepal, however, such ceremonies are portrayed as if they alone define progress. That a single bridge takes 26 years to complete—and that its inauguration must be hailed as a national milestone—only proves how sluggish our pace of development really is. While inaugurations themselves aren’t wrong, considering them the pinnacle of achievement is dangerous. This mentality limits our leaders’ ambitions to photo opportunities instead of meaningful change.
Moreover, measuring development solely by physical infrastructure is misguided. Education, healthcare, agriculture, employment, industry, energy, and information technology—all these sectors must advance together to create productive opportunities if Nepal is to graduate from a developing to a truly developed nation. Building roads and bridges is important, but only if they are integrated with comprehensive plans and sustainable policies will they have lasting impact.
A bridge or a road creates a foundation for progress, but no single structure can secure a nation’s future. While the bridge in Simkot represents one aspect of development, it cannot be claimed as an achievement of holistic progress. Until citizens can easily travel within their own districts, until corruption is eradicated, and until jobs are created at home, no bridge or road will transform Nepal’s prospects.
Prime ministers and ministers must shift their focus from ceremonial inaugurations to long-term strategies. Priorities must include job creation, political stability, transparency, controlling corruption, and building a productive economy. Until our leadership stops merely using foreign examples as speech material and starts learning from and applying those lessons, Nepal will remain stuck celebrating isolated ribbon-cuttings while its real problems deepen. Nepal doesn’t just need bridges and roads—it needs stability, accountability, transparency, and visionary leadership. Our leaders must move beyond speeches and inaugurations to chart a new course for development. Otherwise, while we celebrate one bridge, the rest of the country will continue to languish, and we will spend yet another 26 years dreaming of progress we have yet to see.
NP
