Khwopa Inspiration

A Journey of Resilience: Overcoming Adversity and Standing Strong for the Principles

I was born into a middle-class family with three siblings, where we often had to compromise for each other's happiness. Growing up in a small house in Bhaktapur, our lives were simple but fulfilling, mainly because our parents prioritized our education.

In class 6, visiting Khwopa College of Engineering sparked my dream of studying there, even though I struggled with math. My poor math grades often placed me third or fourth in class, which frustrated me. Despite my father's regular visits to the school and my sister's advice to pursue management instead, I was determined to improve. I dedicated myself to mastering math, practicing day and night, and eventually passed my SLC with 95 marks in math. This achievement allowed me to follow my passion and pursue engineering at my dream college, Khwopa College of Engineering.

After completing my engineering degree, I interned at an INGO and was offered a well-paying engineer's position. However, I also passed the Public Service Council (PSC) officer-level exam around the same time, with a government job offering half the salary. Despite my parents urging me to take the government job for stability, I was torn between the two options. Eventually, I chose the government role.

I was assigned to Sindhupalchowk, where my mother accompanied me initially due to her concerns. Adjusting to the new environment was challenging, especially as a girl from Bhaktapur in unfamiliar terrain. I had to manage household tasks and adapt to my new office independently. Although many think government jobs are easy, I found them quite demanding, especially since I was far from home. Being away from home for the first time was challenging. As a young female civil engineer and head of my department, I often faced disbelief and resistance from contractors and user committees. They doubted my capabilities and argued for payments. Additionally, I dealt with pressures from the seniors and peers and was mostly excluded from important meetings as I was perceived as a very young female engineer. Seeing me more as a "little girl" than a professional, my boss deprived me of allowances and prevented me from visiting sites. Despite these obstacles, I tried my best to adapt but found it challenging. I kept my frustrations to myself, not wanting to make my family worried. Fortunately, I had a very close friend who supported and motivated me through these tough times.

We invited bids for a roadwork project with an estimated cost of around NRs. 10 million. During an inspection visit, I found that the quality of the construction was unsatisfactory and not up to standard. I warned the contractor that I would pass the bill only if they met the standard and improved the quality. Despite my warnings, the contractor prioritized his profit only, ignoring the standards. When I confronted him again, he threatened me. I informed my boss, but he remained silent due to the contractor's influential and unethical connections. I eventually convinced my boss to visit the site, where we confirmed the poor quality. We agreed to pay if the contractor completed additional work like PCC and plastering, but he refused. I advised my boss that passing the bill without these additions is unethical and could lead to trouble.

One day, while I was overwhelmed with work, the contractor arrived with a mob, demanding I pass the bill. They forcibly cleared the office, locked me inside my cabin, and overheard someone say, "Bring some kerosene; let's burn her." The moment I heard those terrifying words, I was frightened, and tears streamed down. It was the most horrifying moment of my life, filled with indescribable fear. Later, in a meeting, my boss said, "Sujita ji, let's pass the bill. They have political and criminal connections; if we don't, they'll create more trouble, disrupting our work." Those words were against my expectations, and they broke me apart. I did not respond to him and quietly left the office, unnoticed and uncomforted. I firmly believed that instead, I would quit the job, but I would stand firm against unethical work and corruption.

I called my friend in grief, and he urged me to pack and come home. I was so terrified and angry against the profit-hungry, corrupt contractor and unethical, feeble-hearted, helpless boss. Due to anxiousness, anger, and fear, I couldn't even muster the courage to leave the office immediately. When I finally reached my room, I blindly packed my belongings. Before leaving, I noticed the morning dishes were still undone. Unsure I'd ever return, I quickly washed them, grabbed my bag, and waited for the bus. I was so scared that I didn't want anyone to see me leaving, fearing they'd stop me. Thankfully, I caught the last bus to Kathmandu. But just a kilometer from the city, the bus broke down as darkness began to fall, adding to the already dreadful day.

As dusk settled, the bus finally got repaired, but fear crept in as I felt someone was following me. I kept messaging my friend, seeking comfort, but my anxiety grew. I even called a friend in Kavre, hoping for a ride to Kathmandu, but luck wasn’t on my side. The bus broke down again, and my phone died, stranding me on the dark, lonely road. Desperate, I tried to charge my phone with my laptop, but when I dropped my belongings, I broke down in tears, overwhelmed by helplessness. I reached home at 9 PM, too shaken to eat or talk, and spent a sleepless night haunted by the ordeal. The next day, I requested a transfer to the ministry, as I could not continue working there.

The ministry informed the CDO of Sindhupalchowk about the incident and urged me to file a complaint, but I was too mentally exhausted to pursue legal action. I hadn’t shared the ordeal with my family or friends. As I didn’t return to work, my office began harassing me with calls and blocked my salary. Desperate for a transfer, my sister’s friend introduced me to a high-profile person. We spoke on the phone, and he asked me to visit his office. The next day, I met him, and after offering me tea, we went to a nearby café. As we sat there, this man, old enough to be my grandfather, began harassing me. He repeatedly told me he loved me, making me increasingly uncomfortable. He even bit into a rasbari and tried to force me to eat the other half. Feeling utterly violated, I called my friend and asked him to meet me. I broke down in tears when I saw him, completely drained of confidence. His presence, though, brought me some comfort amidst the pain.

Daily visits to the ministry had become my routine, and I comforted my parents, telling them I was on leave due to work. At the same time, the parents of my special friend, with whom we promised to live life together, were searching for a bride. They immediately rejected me when he told them about me because I belonged to the Newar community but not to their community. I remember the day he apologized, saying he could not go against his parents. I was already in so much pain and couldn't bear it anymore. I didn’t say a word; I just hid my tears and went home.

I was completely shattered and locked myself in my room for a week, lying to my parents that I had a headache while I wept day and night, wishing for the pain to end. The next day, after returning from the ministry, my mom asked me what was happening. I let my guard down for the first time and told her everything except the breakup. She looked into my eyes and said, "It was our choice, not yours, that made you suffer; please forgive us." At that moment, I burst into tears but felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I said, “ It was my choice to stand against unethical things, but not your choice, which hit me hard, so you don’t need to be sorry. I would have been  earning a good amount if accepted their unethical proposal went along the flow.”  On the same day, I also shared my pain and bitter experiences with my sisters and close friends. They hailed my courage and firm decision not to be a part of a corrupt system. From then on, I felt lighter and strong inside.

Whenever inspiration strikes, I go for it. Recently, I was part of a live poetry session organized by Nepgasm and later shared my story at the “STORYYELLERS” event, a dream come true platform for me. And now I'm so happy to discover this new, more potent version of myself. As I continue my work as a civil engineer at the Lalitpur Metropolitan City Office, I've uncovered a new layer of confidence and courage shaped by the experiences that have tested my resolve. Yet, despite the growth and transformation, at my core, I remain the same person—the girl who once journeyed to Sindhupalchowk, carrying the same values, dreams, and integrity. The difference now is that I am confident, a voice that speaks up louder, and a heart that is even more steadfast in its convictions.

Life throws challenges our way, but I’ve realized a profound truth: it's not the circumstances that define us but our response to them. With the right intentions, guided by a sense of purpose and faith, I've found that I don't need to change who I am to navigate the world's complexities. Instead, I’ve chosen to remain untainted by corruption, holding fast to my principles and returning to the path that aligns with my true self. We often blame circumstances for the wrongs we see, but I’ve embraced the belief that change begins within us. The youth—the generation of today—hold the power to shape society and the future of our country. By leading with integrity and courage, I’ve shown that if one person can make a difference, so can others. My journey is a beacon of hope and a call to action for all seeking a better world.