Knowledge from Nepal

Pramesh Bhattarai is a Master's student at Trinity University, having recently moved to Leeds from Nepal. Pramesh has several years' experience of working on climate projects in Nepal, so the CAL Network is delighted that he agreed to write this blog for us.

I've written this piece to share a perspective on the climate crisis that doesn't often make headlines, one rooted in real action on the ground.

Before moving to Leeds in January 2026, I spent over five years working at the grassroots level in Nepal. I founded Youth for Good - Nepal, a not-for-profit organisation, and led projects for Eco Sathi Nepal, a company creating eco-friendly products.

Those years taught me something crucial: climate change isn't just about statistics or policy debates. It's about people, communities, and finding ways to survive and adapt when the odds are stacked against you.

Let me paint you a picture of what climate change looks like in Nepal. The country contributes less than 0.05% of global carbon emissions, practically nothing. Yet it ranks 4th globally in climate vulnerability. Nepal is basically the Robin Hood of climate change, except instead of stealing from the rich, it's paying for their excess while having barely taken anything itself. Not exactly the heroic version of the story, right?

Nepal's geography makes this crisis even more complex. In the Himalayas, glaciers are melting at alarming rates, and glacial lake outbursts wipe entire villages off the map in minutes. In the hills and plains, the weather has become unpredictable and violent, too much rain or none at all. In September 2024, floods killed at least 224 people, injured 158 more, and left 28 missing. In 2025, the Madhesh region faced severe drought.

The crisis doesn't discriminate, it affects people, animals, plants, everything. I think of the stray dogs that roam Nepal's streets, swept away by floodwaters, and I'm reminded that suffering extends far beyond humanity.

But here's what I've learned: even in the darkest moments, humans have an extraordinary capacity for resilience. It's in our nature. So the question becomes, do we sit and worry, or do we roll up our sleeves and try to make even the smallest difference?

Let me tell you about two projects that gave me hope.

The first was with Eco Sathi Nepal. Yes, we produced bamboo-based products, but we knew that selling sustainable goods wasn't enough. Real change happens when you shift how people think, especially young people whose habits will shape the future. So we went into community schools and ran “5R Awareness” sessions for kids aged 11 to 18 (the five “Rs” are: refuse, reduce, reuse, rot, and recycle.)

We kept it simple and hands-on. We showed them how turning off a light switch saves energy. We encouraged them to bring reusable bags to the market. We taught them to make their own paper bags for shopping. These aren't revolutionary acts, but that's the point. We were teaching a generation that living sustainably doesn't require heroics, just conscious choices. We were preparing them to fight the real battle: humanity versus overconsumption.

The second project was with Youth for Good - Nepal, and was more technical but just as important. We ran retrofitting awareness campaigns in communities. Here's the challenge: most people have heard that making their homes more resilient is important, but don't know how to actually do it. So we brought in engineers, not to lecture with jargon, but to speak in plain language, in the local dialect, so house owners could genuinely understand.

Across 11 workshops we reached 422 families. We explained that improving existing Nepalese homes can reduce emissions by 70% compared to building new ones. We showed how retrofitting makes houses stronger against floods and earthquakes. And because we knew cost was a barrier, we emphasised nature-based solutions. Want to cool your home? Plant a tree for natural shade. In rural Nepal, people have used cow dung mixed with clay and straw for generations to create insulating plaster that keeps homes comfortable year-round. It's affordable, effective, and sustainable, though it does need proper maintenance to meet modern standards.

What struck me was this: when you combine traditional knowledge with modern insights, you create solutions that are affordable, accessible, and culturally relevant. Communities don't need expensive technology they can't maintain. They need practical wisdom they can apply immediately.

Now I'm in the UK, and I see a completely different approach to climate action. The projects here are valuable, but they're shaped by different resources, infrastructure, and challenges. And that's taught me something important: there are no universal solutions to the climate crisis. What works in Leeds won't work in Kathmandu, and vice versa. But that's okay. In fact, it's essential.

Here's what I want you to take away from this: the climate crisis doesn't respect borders. It affects all of us, just in different ways. I've seen its face in Nepal, in flooded villages, melting glaciers, and displaced families. You might see it differently where you are. But we share a common challenge, and we need each other's experiences, innovations, and resilience to face it.

Whether you're in Nepal, the UK, or anywhere else, we're in this together. And together is the only way we'll get through it.

If you found this valuable, let me know, there's more to share.

You can contact Pramesh via LinkedIn, Instagram, or via theprameshbhattarai@gmail.com

All images courtesy of Eco Sathi Nepal and Youth For Good