Remittance is the backbone of Nepal’s economy. According to Nepal Life Standard Survey IV, 76.8 percent Nepali households receive remittance. This financial inflow has significantly contributed—both directly and indirectly—to reducing poverty and improving the living standards of people at the grassroots level. However, remittance is not merely an economic transaction, it embodies story of sacrifice, love, hope, alienation, and enduring struggle of individuals.
The journey of Araniko to China as a sculptor in the 13th century is often regarded as first instance of Nepali labor migration. Following the Anglo-Nepal War (1816), a significant number of Nepali youths began joining the British and Indian armies. Those who joined in the Indian Army in Lahore came to be known as Lahure, a term that gradually became synonymous with Nepali youths living abroad—especially those serving in foreign armies. This trend substantially increased during the First and Second World Wars.
In addition to military service, many Nepalis also migrated to India and engaged in various forms of labor. The remittances they sent back home played a vital role in supporting their families and local economies in Nepal.
The restoration of the multi-party democratic system marked a turning point in the landscape of foreign employment in Nepal. It enhanced people’s access to state services and entitlements. Unlike during the Panchayat era—when owning a passport was associated with privilege and class—democracy enabled ordinary citizens to acquire passports and seek opportunities abroad. The 2007 Movement further accelerated this shift. Foreign employment began to diversify in multiple destinations and job sectors. That increased remittance inflow.
Untold stories
This is not a debate on whether foreign employment is good or bad. This is the reality I have witnessed in my own community. Social media paints a glossy picture of foreign employment—friends posing in front of skyscrapers or serene beaches, dressed in spotless clothes. But behind those images lies a different story. Nearly all of my relatives left Nepal with hopes of returning after a few years of financial stability. Yet, over a decade later, many remain abroad—as a ‘guest’ of their own home.
They are like someone who is always there on screen, but never really at home. Their spouse sees face on the screen, hears voice, but can’t hold hand. Their parents talk to them, but miss the presence. Their kids know them through video calls, not bedtime hugs. They are in pictures, words and screens but not in the moments that matter.
Still, they toil on, believing that few years more of sacrifice will secure a better future and wellbeing of their families. Their absence is heavy, but their hopes remain light.
Choice or Compulsion?
Those who celebrate foreign employment with remittance, new skills, and ‘process of becoming’, may argue it is a choice made by the individual. But based on my experience and enagement with local level, I see it more as a compulsion. For most, foreign employment is the last options after making all efforts to secure decent jobs and income in Nepal.
Otherwise, who would choose to leave the warm hug of their spouse for the high temperatures of a distant land? Who would choose to miss the sweet smiles and babbling of their children, just to hear the shouts of a company owner? Who would want to leave the love of their parents for a lonely life in a foreign land that never truly feels like home?
And yet, many do. Not because they want to, but because they have to. With heavy hearts, they carry their hopes quietly, far from the people they love.
Ultimate trap
According to the NLSS IV survey, 78 percent of remittance income is spent on daily consumption, while 15 percent goes toward loan repayment. When migrants return home, adjusting is often difficult. Their earnings in Nepal rarely cover regular expenses, and a new struggle begins.
In most cases, it feels like s/he is stuck in migration trap. While trying to help their family escape poverty and hardship, one ends up trapped in a cycle of leaving and returning again and again. Because, when one returns, remittance stops and income dries up. Without alternatives, returning abroad becomes the only viable option. Families, sacrificing shared joys and hardships, support the decision to apply for another visa. Once again, s/he leaves. This cycle repeats as long as policies and paperwork allow.
The government frequently highlights remittance inflows as a vital tool for poverty reduction. However, continued dependence on foreign employment poses significant risks to Nepal’s long-term social and economic stability. Have we ever imagined the situation when sudden return of migrant workers in case of pandemic or security threats could overwhelm the country? Have we ever prepared our plan accordingly? Does the government have any plan to retain its citizens with their families?
Ravi Lochan Paudyal is pursuing MPhil in Sociology at Tribhuvan University.
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