When she returned to work after maternity leave, Sangita faced a challenge she had never expected. Working at Prabhu Bank, she had to plan her entire workday so that she could find time to feed her newborn.

With no extended family and only her husband to help, Sangita, who the Post is identifying with a pseudonym for privacy, had to take her baby with her wherever she went. Her workplace offered no designated space for breastfeeding—no quiet corner offering privacy except washrooms.

“I had to adjust,’’ Sangita told the Post recently. ‘‘I skipped almost every lunch break and went to the childcare centre, which was 40 minutes away, to breastfeed.”

Things took a turn for the worse when her child fell ill. The situation soon became unsustainable to her both mentally and financially. With no alternative arrangements and concerns rising about her child’s health, Sangita eventually resigned from her job.

This predicament is not unique to Sangita. Across Nepal’s government offices and private institutions, breastfeeding-friendly spaces remain inconsistent, underutilised, or altogether absent. While laws recognise the need for maternal support at workplaces, implementation depends largely on institutional will rather than obligation.

Some offices do have breastfeeding spaces, but not necessarily for the women who work there.

At Nepal Investment Mega Bank, for instance, a breastfeeding room has existed for more than four years. According to Chitra Ghimire, a human resource (HR) staff at the bank, the space was made available after the coronavirus pandemic but is primarily used by customers.

‘‘For employees, there has been no demand,’’ Ghimire said.

However, from a gender-rights perspective, the absence of demand does not mean there is lack of need, said gender expert Radhika Sapkota. She argued that breastfeeding-friendly workplaces should be treated as basic labour rights, not welfare benefits.

‘‘Childbirth is a contribution to the nation; yet in countries like ours, they become the reasons women’s careers are paused or ended,’’ she said. She pointed out that the absence of a supportive work environment is a major reason many women today hesitate to have children at all.

Sapkota added that expecting women to ask for breastfeeding facilities reflects deeper workplace power imbalances. ‘‘Nobody demands a washroom—it is understood as compulsory,’’ she said. ‘‘In the same way, breastfeeding spaces should not depend on demand. If women are employed in an office, the employer must assume the need exists.’’

Even when spaces exist, they may not meet the needs of working mothers.

Sita Aryal, who works at the registration branch of the Supreme Court, once had access to a breastfeeding space and childcare centre inside her office’s premises before the Gen Z uprising. But with her office burnt down during the uprising, Aryal now rushes everyday at 8am to drop her child at a government-run childcare centre in Pulchowk, far from her home in Anamnagar and her workplace in Ramshahpath.

The centre closes at the same time her office does, leaving no margin for traffic delays or long queues. ‘‘It’s very stressful,’’ Aryal said. ‘‘By the time I reach the centre, my child is often crying. Sometimes I end up crying too.’’

Earlier, during lunch breaks, she could easily spend time with her child by eating quickly. ‘‘Even if my baby cried, the caretakers would call me and I could reach them immediately,’’ she said. ‘‘It saved time and mental stress.’’

Now, she says, the strain has begun to show, both emotionally and physically.

‘‘My child falls sick often and I have to take a leave,” Aryal said. “But negotiating leave itself is mentally exhausting.’’

Meanwhile, at the state-owned Radio Nepal, the introduction of a breastfeeding and rest space was driven by an individual initiative rather than institutional policy.

The broadcaster’s former executive director Amar Dhoj Lama said the idea came from years of observing difficulties faced by the women staff. ‘‘Mothers were uncomfortable sitting for long hours and their work performance was affected,’’ Lama said. ‘‘There was no place for them to rest or breastfeed.’’

Soon after assuming office last September, Lama initiated the facility, which includes a breastfeeding room, a resting area, and free sanitary napkins. He said the aim was to prioritise women’s health, dignity, and psychological comfort in view of the fact that women staff make up more than 30 percent of the workforce.

The idea, however, did not initially receive support. Lama said senior officials questioned whether such a facility was necessary and doubted its utility. ‘‘Some of them had already passed menopause and could not relate,’’ he said. ‘‘They wondered if it would work. I told them it should exist because the need exists, even if only a few women use it.’’

Despite pushback, the space was eventually established and has since been warmly received by younger women staff, particularly new mothers and those commuting long distances.

Bishnu Ram Neupane, acting chief administrative officer at Public Service Broadcasting Nepal, said similar facilities have been running at Nepal Television too, now for nearly four years. ‘‘The spaces were introduced in recognition of the need for a gender-friendly workplace,’’ he said. ‘‘We are aware of the need.’’

Neupane added that a coordinating group within the board has been formed to plan such initiatives. However, he acknowledged that no formal policy has yet been documented, citing limited resources.

Nepal Rastra Bank represents another approach—policy first, infrastructure later.

Guruprasad Poudel, spokesperson for the bank, said there is currently no designated breastfeeding space at the central office. However, provisions exist under the Employee Health and Workplace Safety Policy introduced in 2024.

The policy includes one-hour breaks for breastfeeding mothers, nutritious food support for up to two years after childbirth, and options to transfer employees to offices closer to home.

‘‘The head office in Pokhara has already executed the policy,’’ Poudel said. In Kathmandu, the implementation is expected by July 2026, once they shift to the new building in Baluwatar.

While such measures indicate progress, gender expert Sapkota said policy without timelines and accountability risks becoming symbolic.

In contrast, some private institutions have begun offering practical solutions.

At NIC Asia Bank’s Kamladi office, a lactation room has been operational for 7-8 months now. Nikita Shrestha, a 31-year-old senior assistant in the HR department, has been using it after returning from maternity leave.

‘‘I pump milk twice a day using an electric pump,’’ she said. ‘‘It takes about 30 to 45 minutes, but it has made things much easier.’’

She stores the expressed milk in a freezer so her family can use it later. ‘‘When needed, I can call my family to pick it up,’’ she said.

Jayendra Rawal, the bank’s information officer, said the space was created in response to staff needs and to align with international standards outlined by the International Labour Organisation (ILO) and the World Health Organisation (WHO). Flexible break hours are also allowed.

But such examples remain exceptions rather than norms.

Labour laws in Nepal guarantee maternity leave, and some policies acknowledge the importance of mental health. Yet breastfeeding-friendly workplaces remain dependent on individual leadership rather than systematic enforcement.

For mothers like Sangita, the gap shapes everyday decisions.

‘‘You want to do your job well,’’ she said. ‘‘But you also want to do what’s best for your child. When there’s no support, something has to give.’’

Such experience shows how women are forced to step back or even fall behind in their careers after childbirth, despite having the skills and ambition to advance.

As women’s participation in Nepal’s workforce continues to grow, experts say that breastfeeding spaces should no longer be treated as optional welfare measures but as essential workplace infrastructure.

Until then, for many working mothers, returning to work remains less a transition and more of a test. And, as gender expert Sapkota puts it, ‘‘When workplaces fail to adapt, it is women who pay the price, not institutions.’