From Wounded Hills to Healing Landscapes: A Reflection from Kavre-Roshi
I am sitting on the balcony of my office during the rainy season. Despite the monsoon, the sun today is unusually harsh, shining intensely above my head. As I sit here, I find myself reflecting on my first encounter with this place Kavre.
First Impressions of Kavre
It was early April when I first arrived. The hills were dry, bare, and sparsely covered with trees. The rukho dada pakha, scarred by visible erosion, stood like open wounds on the face of nature. They no longer felt like landscapes; they felt like grieving souls—silent, yet deeply expressive—begging humanity to listen, to act, and to heal what had been lost.
Now, in mid-July, the same hills tell a different story. They are covered in fresh greenery, revived by the monsoon rains. The once lifeless soil now breathes again, and the hills, which once seemed to cry, appear to smile with quiet relief. New leaves have replaced the faded ones, and the earth hums softly with hope. It feels as though nature has been granted a second chance.
However, this landscape carries a painful memory.
The 2024 Flood in Roshi Area
The Kavre-Roshi area witnessed a devastating flood in September 2024—a day that remains a dark chapter in the lives of the local people. Thousands were affected. Homes were submerged, livestock washed away, and years of hard work disappeared beneath muddy waters. The flood did not just destroy property; it shattered stability, security, and dreams.
I came to this village to begin a new chapter of my life—my first job, far from the familiarity of home. I still remember my arrival vividly. The hills looked exhausted, almost abandoned. Below, the Roshi Khola told a story of destruction—broken homes, empty animal sheds, and a silence that spoke louder than grief itself. Standing there, I felt a strange sense of guilt, as if witnessing something I should have helped prevent.
But over time, something began to change.
The people—simple, kind-hearted, and always willing to help—welcomed me warmly. Slowly, I began to feel connected to this place. With the arrival of the rainy season, the barren hills transformed into vibrant green landscapes. Life returned quietly, almost gently. It felt like watching a wounded soul begin to heal.
Yet, alongside this healing, another concern grew within me.
Human Activities and Environmental Impact
I observed crusher industries surrounding the village, extracting sand and stones by cutting into the hills. In the pursuit of livelihood, forested land was being converted into agricultural fields. Roads were being constructed hastily, without proper planning or environmental consideration. As a result, dry landslides became common during summer, while muddy landslides increased during the rainy season.
It is painful to witness a form of development that neglects sustainability—a progress that forgets protection.
Lessons from Kavre
This small and fragile village holds a profound lesson: when we ignore the pain of the land, it echoes back—through floods, landslides, and silent suffering. But when we care for it, it responds—with greenery, with flowing rivers, and with resilient communities.
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