On a dusty gravel road from Tumcha to Jaira in Humla, our jeep broke down. The silencer stopped working. It was only later that we realised that in a span of three days, we had burned Rs20,000 worth of diesel, which was supposed to last 20 days. For the next two hours, we had arranged a new vehicle, which lasted less than a day. The new vehicle cost an additional Rs14,000. This is just one of the many challenges of contesting in highland districts like Humla.

The rugged terrain, inaccessible villages and the population scattered across the topography make the constituency perhaps the most challenging across the entire country. For a candidate to get to just one village, such as Nepka, it takes two days of walking to and fro to the closest road.

On top of geography, it is the excessive logistics and people management, voter safety concerns, demographic scatter and unsafe voting environment that make campaigning extremely difficult and financially demanding in such areas.

Funding the campaign

Even before starting a campaign, just to get to Bajura from Kathmandu, the airfare per person is Rs16,000. Much of the cost revolves around travelling from village to village, given the large distances between the different local units. And because only one type of vehicle can navigate this terrain, the expenditure comprises upwards of Rs15,000 per day on just one vehicle.

This is without factoring in the cost of diesel. Our fuel had to be carried from Nepalgunj, costing an excess of Rs65,000 just to have two barrels of diesel, because prices here are very high and sourcing fuel is difficult in areas like this. With the election happening for the first time in the peak winter season, all costs get multiplied.

Many people opened their homes to us and have been kind enough to provide meals and a bed, but there are still places in urban centres where I’ve had to foot the bill for 15-16 people. In a place with limited internet connectivity, most of our communication happens through phones, which results in a drastic increase in communication costs, especially when the teams are dispersed. While other parties have local political units and grassroots structures that prepare everything in advance, our small team have had to do this ourselves.

Political culture and voter access

This campaign has been an opportunity to go into remote corners of my district, to talk to constituents and to understand the aspirations of Humlis after the Gen Z movement. In our conversations, I find that people are politically aware and they want to break free from the cycles of political musical chairs.

Turns out, our supporters don’t have the luxury of having an open affiliation with any alternative force. Fears of being reprimanded and ostracised by their communities mean that they are unable to establish a local and sizeable political force. For any lawmaker aspirant, in places like Humla, the tough topography and terrain mean that, without a local force as such, it is almost impossible to campaign across the entirety of Humla.

Building on this, voting in certain areas in Humla is neither safe nor private. In some areas, voters are not allowed to exercise their rights because their votes are cast by either a relative, a fellow villager or someone with political authority. They are forced to comply in fear of future repercussions. Exercising democratic rights becomes a mere façade. Preying on the political illiteracy of voters, established and dominant political forces continue to keep voters away from accessing their constitutionally guaranteed rights.

If political allegiance becomes the only meaningful way for many Humlis to access the Nepali state, then it’s difficult for them to pin their aspirations on someone like me, who cannot guarantee them any personal benefits. The change in political candidates and ideologies does not change the existing structures of how politics happens here.

The most heartbreaking incident I faced was when voters in one of the most remote villages outright refused to vote. They said they felt betrayed after years of the same promises by different faces. Their demand was simple: Roads. And their demands are justified because it takes 1.5 days of walking uphill to reach the village. Initially, I thought the political culture was mostly concerned with the voters, but as I move through the district, I find myself questioning the promise of electoral politics. Perhaps voter disillusionment reflects the political culture that has been fostered by dishonest leadership.

Even if people here want to vote for change, their precarious socio-economic condition doesn’t allow them to exercise their voting rights. People who want to vote against traditional parties mostly are folks living in Kathmandu, India or other cities. The cost for this demography to reach Humla ranges between Rs5,000 and Rs10,000 over land. By flight, and during the winters, it easily touches Rs15,000. This is not feasible for the majority of Humlis. Accommodating them in the future elections will be a pivotal step to enfranchising a vast majority of Nepali voters.

FPTP versus PR

I have had just one month to put together finances for this campaign. It has been the generosity of strangers who have contributed. But we are nowhere close to being able to reach a significant chunk of the voters in this district.

But apart from this, I have had no institutional support. This makes me wonder: Who gets to contest? Who can afford to contest? Is it only people with prior political affiliations who have a shot? Is it only people with established financial sources?

Being born and raised in the Limi valley, which only recently saw some semblance of a road, where some still practice pastoralism, can somebody from my community dare or, in this case, put together the ingredients it takes to meaningfully compete in the elections?

This journey has led me to see why the proportional representation system was created in the first place. It was envisioned for people without the socio-economic capital to be a part of this country’s democratic decision-making. If not for them, then who is the PR list for?

Campaigning in Humla has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. To meet Humlis across the district, in their homes, fields and bazaars has been a privilege. I have walked with a bad knee on painkillers, ascended 800-900 metres, walked 16 kilometres in one day, but this is the average lived experience of a Humli. And it is the compassion of Humlis that burns the fire in me to represent their experiences more accurately and demand that the state not turn a blind eye to its people.