Coming back home to Nepal was not my first option. I have to admit, it wasn't even my second or third. However, given the appalling US job market, particularly for a young international undergraduate, I finally decided to consider going home. While trying to convince myself to buy that ticket home, I drew out a list of pros and cons: I found out that apart from my family, there was very little that attracted me back.

 

I had always dreamed about America since I was little. I had done just about everything required to get me there: enrolled for an A-level degree, started the painstaking process of college applications, lived through the agony of waiting to hear back from colleges, survived the hoopla of the American visa process of trying to prove that I had ties strong enough here that I would not remain in the US after my graduation. I was so desperate to leave the country that despite being rejected for the visa on my first attempt, I reapplied and remember being so ecstatic when I was finally given the green light to leave the country.

But, why was I so desperate to leave Nepal?

 

Four years later, and in a drastically different situation, I found myself struggling with this very question. I realised it boiled down to the lack of basic necessities back in Kathmandu: electricity, water, and fuel. Internet was erratic, there were no clean public restrooms, and coffee shops were drab. The political uncertainty, lack of public security, and the infringement of basic rights of the masses by a selfish few at most levels had really put me off.

 

Family played a huge part in my decision to return home. But there was another reason: I had just completed my bachelors in Not-for-Profit Management and Economics from Salem College, and the opportunity to work in Nepal, I thought, would be an ideal way for me to go beyond my academic understanding of how the development sector and the real world function. For that though, I first needed a job, and so I began to reach out to my professional network, albeit the small one I had.

 

As luck would have it, I was introduced to a person who directed me to Niti Foundation, a Nepali not-for-profit working in policy engagement in Nepal. After several months of emailing, I ended up joining the team. During these months with Niti, I have had the opportunity to study and understand the process in which policies are formulated and implemented in Nepal, as well as develop a stronger network of people that have supported my decision to come back.

 

Some of my friends tell me that I was fortunate to have found a job in Nepal. From their experience, you only get a job if you have relatives or friends in high places. After failing to find jobs in over four months of searching in Nepal, a couple of them have already decided to return to the US.

 

Clearly, professional networking, or rather the lack of it in Nepal, is an issue for many, particularly those that have lived a significant part of their adult lives outside Nepal. From my experience there is a need to promote a support system that assists young individuals to interact with each other: a space to research the job market, share experiences about entrepreneurial ideas and initiatives, and be involved in various social movements.

 

Recently I have been associated with a new initiative called farkeka Nepali that plans to serve as a soft-landing platform for Nepalis that want to return, but find the lack of access to a professional network a key impediment to taking the plunge. An initiative such as this would make it easier for at least a few of the Nepalis who are considering the option on whether or not to return to Nepal. I know I would have.