LocationsIn August 2025, I had the opportunity to meet women farmers’ groups of Tatopani and Patarasi Rural Municipality who actively engaged in Renewable Energy for Resilient Agri Food Systems RERAS project. These women were not only cultivating apple orchards and growing vegetables but also preserving and promoting Jumla’s rich agricultural heritage. They grew the famous nutrient-dense Jumli Marshi rice, along with resilient indigenous crops like chino, kaguno. Their stories revealed a powerful blend of resilience and adaptation- where traditional technology meets modern innovative technologies.
Harvesting knowledge, breaking barriers: women of Jumla
August 7, 2026
A beneficiary of the RERAS project inspects her apples.
Photo: UNDP Nepal
My visit to Jumla around this same time last year was unlike any before. This time, I intentionally stepped away from structured municipal meetings and formal project reports. Instead, I set out to connect directly on the ground with the women who are the true heartbeat of our Renewable Energy for Resilient Agri-Food Systems (RERAS) Project—funded by the Royal Norwegian Embassy and implemented jointly by UNDP and partners.
I traveled to these high-mountain settlements to listen. I wanted to hear about more than just crop yields, agricultural technologies, and energy systems; I wanted to understand their lived realities. I sought to uncover the quiet stories of daily struggle, the profound resilience they carry, and the ancestral, indigenous knowledge that enables them to thrive in the demanding mountain environment of Jumla.
Meeting the guardians of the food system
During my journey, I met with vibrant women farmers’ groups in the Tatopani and Patarasi Rural Municipalities. These women are not merely agricultural laborers; they are the active custodians of Jumla’s rich agricultural heritage. Alongside managing expanding vegetable farms, they carefully preserve and promote resilient indigenous crops like chino (proso millet) and kaguno (foxtail millet), as well as the famous, nutrient-dense Jumli Marshi red rice.
As we design and evaluate development work, we must move beyond simply measuring what the project delivered [1]. We must ask: "How does this technology honor, strengthen, and integrate with the lived experiences and indigenous practices of the community?"
And perhaps, we must always remember Maya Devi's golden rule: empowerment is not always about handing women something entirely new. More often, it is about recognizing, valuing, and amplifying the incredible resourceful work they are already doing.
Rupsi Buda: Shattering gender barriers
In Patarasi, I met Rupsi Buda, a resilient farmer whose life has been profoundly changed by the technical training, infrastructure, and tools introduced by the RERAS project.
Rupsi spoke passionately about the impact of the newly installed solar-powered lift irrigation systems, improved farming implements, and specialized training in orchard management. Before these interventions, irrigating her apple trees on the steep slopes was an exhausting, water-scarce struggle [1]. Today, tending to her orchards—applying organic bio-fertilizers, managing pests safely, and pruning branches—has become significantly easier and more efficient.
Not only has the quality and consistency of her apple crop improved, but Rupsi and her peers have also stepped into leadership roles, managing commercial orchards—responsibilities traditionally regarded as a man's domain in these mountains. Her journey is a testament to how targeted access to clean energy and modern agronomic knowledge can dismantle deeply entrenched gender barriers in agriculture.
Tara Khadka: Digital precision and the power of voice
In Tatopani, Tara Khadka shared another layer of technological transformation: the adoption of solar-powered, digital precision agriculture technology.
Through specialized sensor-based systems, local farmers receive real-time, localized data sent directly to their mobile phones. They get precise updates on soil moisture, irrigation schedules, fertilizer requirements, ideal harvesting windows, and current market prices.
For Tara and other marginalized women farmers, this real-time digital access has eliminated guesswork, allowing them to optimize resource use and fetch fairer prices for their produce.
Yet, the most profound impact Tara shared went far beyond crop yields. She looked at me and remarked confidently that the resulting rise in their income had fundamentally shifted the power dynamics in their homes.
"When women become economically empowered," she explained, "we gain the confidence, financial independence, and agency to speak out against Gender-Based Violence (GBV)."
Her words drove home a critical development truth: economic empowerment is not just about financial prosperity; it is a vital protective shield that gives women the voice and power to defend their safety and human rights.
The economic reality of the Karnali mountains
Jumla, situated in the remote Karnali Province, is one of Nepal’s premier organic apple hubs. Nestled at altitudes ranging from 2,300 to 3,000 meters, its cool, temperate climate is ideal for producing crisp, high-quality organic apples.
According to the Jumla District Agriculture Development Office, apple plantations cover over 4,250 hectares of the district, yielding an impressive 20,511 metric tons annually, with nearly half exported out of the district to fuel the local economy. Ever since Jumla was declared an entirely organic district in 2000 (B.S. 2057), the local campaign of "One House, One Apple Garden" has made orchard farming the financial backbone of the region, engaging roughly 16,000 out of 19,000 resident families.
Yet, despite its economic promise, mountain farming is incredibly labor-intensive. This burden falls disproportionately on women. Outmigration of young men in search of seasonal employment in India or urban centers is a generation-spanning survival strategy for marginalized families in Karnali. This leaves women with the dual burden of managing demanding farms entirely on their own while running their households. Through specialized RERAS training and clean-energy technologies, these women are turning this vulnerability into self-reliance.
Indigenous knowledge and adaptation
Beyond modern solar technologies, I was deeply moved by the rich repository of indigenous knowledge these women utilize daily to navigate climate change.
They explained their ancestral practices of crop rotation, the formulation of organic bio-pesticides, and their intuitive ways of reading erratic weather patterns. In the barren winter months of December and January, when the fields are covered in snow, they transition to the alpine pastures to collect Yarshagumba (a rare, high-value caterpillar fungus) [1]. One of the women explained that her small family of three can earn between NPR 200,000 to 300,000 (approximately USD 1,500 to 2,250) in just a few weeks—creating a crucial economic safety net.
By weaving this ancestral environmental awareness with new, clean-energy agricultural techniques, the women of Jumla have created a diversified and highly resilient livelihood system.
Redefining Drudgery: A Lesson from Maya Devi Bista
One of my most memorable encounters was with a woman named Maya Devi Bista. When I first saw her, she was sitting by the roadside near the rushing waters of the Tila River, systematically breaking large stones into gravel with a small hammer.
In development discourse, roadside stone-breaking is often depicted as the ultimate symbol of poverty, extreme manual labor, and female marginalization. But Maya Devi shattered that stereotype with a single conversation.
“I do this in my free time," she said cheerfully. By working for just two or three hours a day, she easily earns around NPR 500. "The stones are free, courtesy of the river. Why should I let this free resource and opportunity go to waste?"
Maya Devi - drudgery vs resourcefulness
Photo: UNDP Nepal
As I walked with her back to her home, she proudly showed me her beautiful, three-story traditional stone house, complete with a thriving kitchen vegetable garden and fertile fields nearby where she grows her prized Jumli Marshi rice.
Her thinking reflected a remarkable spirit of entrepreneurship. What others may view as drudgery, she viewed as resourcefulness. For her, it was not about compulsion but about making the most of what was available. This simple yet powerful insight reminded me that resilience is not always about grand strategies—it is often found in the small, practical decisions women make every day.
Interweaving knowledge and support
What I carried back with me from the mountains of Jumla was a profound lesson in how development interventions must intersect with local, indigenous wisdom.
The RERAS project successfully introduces clean energy, lift irrigation, and precise digital tools that open new economic doors. Yet, the ultimate sustainability of these systems relies entirely on the women’s deep, ancestral relationship with their land—their understanding of soil, mountain weather, and diversified seasonal livelihoods-- like seasonal foraging of Yarshagumba, or the intuitive ways they manage crops under harsh climates.
As we design and evaluate development work, we must move beyond simply measuring what the project delivered. We must ask: "How does this technology honor, strengthen, and integrate with the lived experiences and indigenous practices of the community?"
And perhaps, we must always remember Maya Devi's golden rule: empowerment is not always about handing women something entirely new. More often than not, it is about recognizing, valuing, and amplifying the incredible resourceful work they are already doing [1].
Closing reflection
What I carried back with me from the mountains of Jumla was a profound lesson in how development interventions must intersect with local, indigenous wisdom. Technical training is valuable, but it cannot replace the wisdom women carry from generations of lived experience. In fact, the most successful outcomes occur when both are woven together.
The RERAS project successfully introduces clean energy, lift irrigation, and precise digital tools that open new economic doors. Yet, the ultimate sustainability of these systems relies entirely on the women’s deep, ancestral relationship with their land—their understanding of soil, mountain weather, and diversified seasonal livelihoods.
The women of Jumla taught me that assessment of any project intervention should not only ask, “What did the project deliver?” but also, “How does this align with and strengthen Indigenous knowledge and practices?"
And perhaps, we must always remember Maya Devi's golden rule: empowerment is not always about handing women something entirely new. More often than not, it is about recognizing, valuing, and amplifying the incredible resourceful work they are already doing.