A software engineer from a marginalised community recently hailed a rideshare, and her conversation with the driver took an unexpected turn. Upon being asked what she did for a living, she replied, “I’m a software engineer.” The driver, surprised, counter-questioned, “When did people of your caste start learning tech?”

It was a brief exchange but a clear reflection of a quiet but persistent belief in our society—that people from certain backgrounds do not belong to the technology sector. For many young adults across Nepal, especially those from marginalised backgrounds, this perception becomes an invisible barrier before they ever write their first line of code.

We often hear that the tech sector is meritocratic. While this is partly true, it overlooks an important reality: Not everyone starts from the same point. Access to early education, exposure to technology, confidence in conversing in English and connections within the industry all shape who gets to participate in the field. When these advantages are unevenly distributed, opportunity becomes uneven too.

This gap is visible on the ground. In many government schools, where a large number of marginalised students study, computer education is still limited. Some schools have computer labs, but they are often unused. Many private schools, even in Kathmandu, lack fully equipped digital classrooms. For students without access to computers or the internet at home, building basic digital skills becomes extremely difficult. And by the time they reach higher education, the gap between them and their peers from more resourced schools can feel overwhelming.

There are other less-visible challenges. Confidence, for example, plays a significant role. Nepal’s social structures, including caste and class dynamics, have historically shaped the feeling of belonging in certain spaces. For many young people from marginalised communities, entering the technology sector can feel intimidating. Without role models, mentorship or encouragement, it is easy to feel that these paths are not meant for them. Many have simply never been given a reason to believe they belong to the sector.

Geography adds another layer to this challenge. Most tech companies and opportunities are concentrated in Kathmandu. For students living outside the valley, accessing internships, networking events, or even information about career pathways can be difficult. Relocating to the capital requires financial resources that many families simply cannot afford. As a result, capable and motivated young people remain disconnected from opportunities that could change their trajectories.

A software engineer from Morang recalled that when he started, opportunities outside Kathmandu were extremely limited. Most of his learning came through informal guidance and small training sessions, with little access to structured internships or clear information about career pathways. With very few networking opportunities or tech communities around him, building connections was equally challenging.

Social networks also matter more than we often acknowledge. Many students from privileged backgrounds grow up with some exposure to the tech world through family, schools or peers. Others, however, may not even know where to begin. The absence of guidance can make the journey into tech feel uncertain and inaccessible, regardless of ability.

There is also a common narrative that young people from marginalised communities are simply ‘not ready’ for professional environments—that they lack communication skills, confidence or an understanding of workplace culture. They are often judged for how they speak, what they wear or how they carry themselves. These are reflections of disproportionate exposure. Professional confidence, communication styles and workplace norms are learned through access and experience. If young people are excluded from these spaces from the beginning, it is unrealistic to expect them to immediately meet standards set for the privileged.

This is where the question often arises: Why inclusion? If opportunities are scarce, why should they be intentionally expanded for certain groups? The answer lies in understanding that inclusion is not about giving unfair advantage but about making sure opportunity is genuinely accessible. When entire communities are left out of education, networks and professional spaces, simply treating everyone the same does not create equal chances. Inclusion helps level the starting point so that talent, not background, can determine outcomes. In this sense, inclusion is simply about claiming what should have always been accessible. It is about ensuring that opportunities that exist in theory are truly available in practice to everyone, not just to a privileged few.

One must also recognise that inclusion benefits everyone. When opportunities are limited to a small segment of society, the entire sector loses out on potential talent, ideas and innovation. Expanding access strengthens the ecosystem as a whole. Investment in marginalised communities creates a multiplier effect: One person’s success often becomes a source of motivation, guidance, networks and opportunity for an entire community.

Addressing these challenges requires intentional effort. Schools need not only infrastructure but also trained teachers who can make digital education meaningful. Tech companies can play a role by expanding internships and entry-level opportunities beyond Kathmandu and actively reaching out to talent in other regions. Mentorship programmes and fellowships can help bridge the gap by providing both skills and confidence to those who need it the most. Nepal’s tech sector holds immense promise. But for that promise to be fully realised, it must be accessible to people from all backgrounds. Young people from marginalised communities, too, can succeed in tech. Can Nepal afford to keep excluding the very talent it needs to grow?