This NASA image shows how Nepal renewed its forestry cover between 1992 and 2016
Video journalist Rituraj Sapkota is travelling in South Asia and writing about conservation, sustainability and indigenous practices. In Nepal, he tells us how local communities have spent the past 30 years restoring its forests.
In 1979, Nepal was warned that the loss of forest cover would result in barren hillsides and infertile plains across the country within 20 years.
Forests made up just over a quarter of Nepal’s total area. Trees were felled for firewood, livestock grazed in bushland and agriculture was extensive. Then the government came up with the pivotal Forestry Act in 1993, handing over forestry restoration to community groups.
Since then there’s been a remarkable turnaround, with the total area of Nepal’s forests now covering close to 46 per cent of the country. Emigration and a drop in farming have played a part. But more credit is due to over 22,000 community forest groups that manage a third of the country’s woodlands.
Photo: supplied
Bharati Pathak (pictured above), chairs the Federation of Community Forest Users (FECOFUN), an umbrella organisation for 16,000 affiliated community forest groups.
“Community forests did more than reaffirm the trust the government placed in its people,” she says. “It has also proved to be an excellent exercise in democracy, especially if you look at the participation of women.”
At least 50% of the group’s 15 representatives must be women. That’s a minimum of eight members although some groups have up to 12 women. A spinoff has been the election of 1,500 women from forest committees as local government representatives last year and another 26 gaining positions in province assemblies.
In a country that is historically patriarchal, community forestry has also fostered a new social dynamic – inclusion.
“You can’t exclude anyone, you’ll see adivasi (a Sanskrit word referring to the earliest tribes that settled the region) and janajati (indigenous groups), dalit (lower caste) and minorities all taking charge of their forests,” Pathak says.
In the early years of community forests, the focus was on conservation with the bonus of carbon sinks being distributed evenly and widely throughout the country. More recently, the use of forest products has grown with the distribution of logs, firewood, fodder and sottar (beds of dried leaves and twigs for cattle in sheds). Small and medium enterprises like sawmills, juice factories and water parks have also been set up.
“Some forests have started home stays,” says Bed Prakash Bhandari, the federation chair in Jhapa, one of Nepal’s eastern most districts. “When members have guests, they can put them up in the lap of nature instead of booking hotels.”
But success hasn’t been without its challenges.
Pathak says they’re now fighting new policies that may restrict the autonomy of community forests and give more control to the federal government over its resources.
“Yesterday when the hills were bare, the forests belonged to the communities. They nurtured it and brought it back to life and now the state wants to claim ownership.”
Bureaucracy can be an obstacle, says Tulasi Sangroula, a federation chair in Koshi, a province that includes Jhapa. Government permission is needed to remove forest products and people suffered from the cold during winter for want of firewood. Until recently, community forests were taxed by municipal, provincial and the federal governments for years. Now there’s a move towards privatising forestry, shifting ownership to businesses and the wealthy.
“Perhaps the government thinks if the land becomes barren under the ownership of these private interests, they can hand them to the community again,” says Pathak.
The practice of ‘cleaning’ forests, removing bush and grass, is also carried out. But a forest isn’t just trees says Chandra Bhandari, the founder of the Federation of Nepali Journalists and a Jhapa-based researcher.
“We need the thickets and the grass, the insects and snakes and worms too.”
A preference for exotic species is also damaging the environment. Paulownia, an introduced hardwood grown in large plantations with government encouragement, restricts the growth of native plants. Eucalyptus affects groundwater levels. Teak, a fast-growing, exotic hardwood also sucks up a lot of water and its broad leaves smother the underbrush.
Teak, preferred for its durable wood and comparative quick yield, is favoured by many forest user groups.
Photo: Rituraj Sapkota
Increasing forestland has expanded the habitat of wild animals. Some have come into conflict with local populations.
Photo of elephant: Devendra Kharel.
Community forests have also seen increasing numbers of wild animals. Locals in Jhapa have reported sightings of jackals. Camera traps have been set up in the Telpani forest to study pangolins, sometimes known as scaly anteaters. Leopards have entered settlements in the Bahuban community forest and elephants in Jhapa are also going into areas they didn’t in the past. Over in Panch Pokhari community forest, a guard warned me of a lone elephant staying there.
“He has bad vision in one eye but I wouldn’t risk it,” he said as he looked at my scooter.
Sangroula says managing numbers is important to stop animals becoming pests.
“And we see this trend already, from monkeys and apes on the plains to deer, porcupines and pheasants at higher altitudes,” he says. “Communities have worked hard to bring back Nepal’s forest cover,” he says. “But we need parties to come together and move forward with well-planned and well-managed forests.”
While Nepal is grappling with these internal problems, the country is still a global talking point in reforestation, Pathak says.
“For the rest of the world, Nepal’s community forest programme is a role model. They see it as an opportunity.”
But Bhandari adds some final parting words: “Don’t plant teak.”