Nepal’s highly diverse topography generates varied climate impacts across the country. The most effective way to understand, manage and prepare for potentially effective adaptation measures is through strong local institutions supported by self-motivated individuals who help generate grounded insights into issues affecting their communities and society at large. Such driven, passionate individuals willing to contribute to a deeper understanding of local issues were once a vital part of Nepali society. While there have been many, two notable examples from the 1990s always stand out vividly in my mind.

The field champions

In 1993, Nepal recorded its highest-ever rainfall in Kulekhani, the site of the country’s first and only storage hydropower project. On the night of July 19, 1993, a rain gauge installed by a local watershed project at Tistung recorded a staggering 540 mm of rainfall in 24 hours, with a peak rainfall intensity reaching as high as 70 mm per hour. The measurement sent shockwaves through Nepal’s water resources and disaster management fraternity. It shifted the country’s understanding of weather challenges, highlighting the destructive power of cloudbursts and the massive damage they can unleash. It stood as Nepal’s highest rainfall measurement for 30 years and spurred numerous studies on reservoir sedimentation in the following decades. The record stood until 2024, when Kanchanpur broke the record with 624 mm of rain in a single 24-hour period.

Likewise, on May 11, 1996, an exceptionally strong windstorm uprooted tens of thousands of mature trees across several central and eastern Tarai districts. For most people, it was merely a disaster. But for a passionate forester based in Kathmandu, it presented a rare scientific opportunity. He secured basic logistical support from a government project and drove 600 kilometres to the affected area with his equipment. There, he spent weeks meticulously measuring the root systems of the uprooted trees, and later published a detailed report on the subject. His ingenuity produced the first study of its kind ever conducted in Nepal.

There are many such examples of people who took personal initiative to venture into the unknown across different fields in service to society. Whether it’s the famous Red Delicious apples of Dhe village in Mustang or the oranges (Junars) of Sindhuli, their success is underpinned by inspiring stories of dedicated individuals and their quiet perseverance. There are stories worth remembering and emulating, yet many go unrecorded. Individuals with the courage to step beyond conventional boundaries to understand problems, develop practical solutions, and pass on their knowledge and values to younger generations are part of a vibrant society, helping make them enterprising and resilient against all odds.

But it seems we have lost that spirit of ingenuity. The supportive local circumstances and socioeconomic structure that nurtured these grassroots initiatives were massively eroded by the decade-long armed conflict that began in 1996. Consequently, Nepal lost not only the momentum these efforts had created to drive local initiatives in environmental management, but also the opportunity to pass on critical skills, values and a spirit of inquiry to younger generations. Such a rich tradition of self-driven initiatives that Nepali society once deeply cherished has dwindled significantly at a time when the country needs it most. Rebuilding such momentum takes ages, if not generations.

Confronting the urgent climate alarm

Fast forward to the present: Nepal is increasingly experiencing the multifaceted impacts of climate change. The most alarming of them is stoking serious anxieties about this year’s food production in the shadow of a super El Niño and a weak monsoon developing on the heels of four dry winters. Unlike the previous super El Niños, most notably the powerful 1997–98 event, the 2026 El Niño is unfolding against a much higher global temperature baseline. This combination could make the 2026 event the strongest, significantly amplifying its impacts, from extreme weather and floods to droughts and agricultural losses. This is why the event has become a grave concern, with the UN Secretary-General warning that the world must treat it as an urgent climate alarm.

As the major planting season begins, a critical question looms: How severely will paddy production this year be affected if the forecast of a weak monsoon and possible sporadic droughts materialises as predicted? In that event, what would our contingency plan be to ensure food security and keep food prices affordable for all? Even more worrying is that next year is expected to be hotter still, and the year after that even more so. Despite rigorous efforts of various agencies, the threat to our food security only deepens.

The intensified water cycle extremes likely to result from the super El Niño could reshape global weather patterns for good. The weather anomalies we have witnessed over the past decade and particularly after 2020, including waning winter rain, the northward shift of the monsoon, and the shift towards short-duration, localised, high-intensity rain, may only be a prelude to far greater disruptions. In Nepal, these challenges will be significantly magnified by our extraordinarily diverse topography, where climate conditions shift drastically within short distances. The hope that strengthening our current approaches to address the impacts will be enough to tackle this growing challenge risks becoming a dangerous illusion.

While we remain naively optimistic about securing the international funding and unrestricted support, today’s strained global environment makes it clear that we cannot afford to wait as climate shocks intensify. We must embrace self-reliance to truly understand the complexities and address the growing challenges across Nepal’s diverse landscapes and populations, using what we have, where we are. This can only be achieved through a broader, more adaptive and deeply localised system of observation, study and analysis, driven by local champions willing to venture into the unknown.

Kindling civic spirit

When it comes to adapting to climate impacts, it must be reiterated that we have only seen the tip of the mast so far. The real ship approaching us remains on the horizon, and when it fully arrives, the challenge will be extraordinary. Our preparation today to face it in the days ahead must be shaped with this arriving ship firmly in mind. Even if we take some urgent actions such as augmenting critically depleting groundwater, raising awareness about the growing water crisis or prolonged droughts to address the problems undermining our economy and people’s livelihoods, our current strategies and the scale of interventions remain woefully inadequate.

Proclamations and actions to avert this crisis must be executed at a much larger scale than we have imagined and strictly woven with local institutions and champions. Achieving this requires us to recognise one critical truth: Integrating the insights of both climate experts and social scientists is essential to rebuilding a culture of community volunteerism and nurturing a new generation of field champions. Otherwise, our climate strategies will remain confined to an ivory tower. They may sound brilliant on paper, but they may not help to navigate real-world complexities and ground-level challenges.