Family Displaced from Shantipur Slum Faces Uncertain Future

Kathmandu. The Shantipur slum settlement in Kathmandu is not like before. The place, which was filled with tin roofs, bamboo huts, narrow alleys, and crowds of people until a few months ago, now looks empty. There are broken bamboo pieces here, torn tarpaulins there, old clothes and utensils somewhere.

Lalbhadur Limbu, 64, who was displaced from that settlement, is now living with his family at the Sukumbasi Holding Center in Banepa. There is fatigue on his face, pain in his eyes, but his voice still carries an unyielding stance.

"We are landless, but we are also human," he says slowly. Lalbahadur's life is not an ordinary story. It is a long journey of struggle, deprivation, love, and hope.

He came to Pokhara from the former Sunsari district around 2047 BS. There was a lack of work in the village, and it was becoming difficult to support the family. So, he went to Pokhara in search of a new life. He spent about ten years there. During that time, he worked as a porter. Carrying loads, transporting goods in the market, sweating all day. Sometimes he also painted on walls. Art was another world hidden within his heart, but labor was needed first to feed himself.

He came to Kathmandu in 2057 BS. The capital shows dreams to many, but it does not give space to all. He reached the Shantipur slum settlement. He built a small bamboo hut there. A room where water leaked, wind entered, and it was narrow. But that room became his family's world.

With him was his wife, Sangita Limbu. Sangita, whom everyone knew as "Thapa Saru Magar," was much younger than him, but she shared equally in the sorrows and struggles of life. They had two children—daughter Naima Limbu and son Sushil Kumar Limbu.

Sushil is now 19 years old. He studies at a college in Baneshwor. But he does not live with his parents. As there was no suitable environment for studying in the slum settlement, he is studying by staying with his aunt. The family's dream is for Sushil to study well and change his life.

But the family's deepest story is connected with Naima. Naima was sick since birth. She could not walk. She could not speak either. Doctors said that the main bone in her body had not developed. The disease was called "Arterism." That news shook Lalbahadur and Sangita's world. But Lalbahadur did not give up.

He dug a pit inside his small room. That pit was not a playground; it was a father's hope. He would keep Naima there for hours so that her body could learn balance. Later, he bought a walker. He started teaching his daughter to walk by holding her every day.

That struggle was not for one or two days. For four years, they continued this effort. They arranged nutritious food with the little money earned from working as a porter. Even if they went hungry themselves, they fed their daughter good food. Lalbahadur, tired from working from morning till evening, would return and practice making his daughter walk.

After four years, a day came, a day that changed their lives. Naima took her first steps on her own.

It was a small step, but for Lalbahadur, it was the biggest victory in the world. Naima still cannot speak, but her eyes express all the love, struggle, and faith of her father.

Time passed. Even amidst the struggle, the family did not give up hope of living. In 2079 BS, Lalbahadur completed the necessary paperwork for residence in Shantipur. He thought life might be a little safer now. But on the morning of Baisakh 12, 2083 BS, a bulldozer arrived in Shantipur.

That day, there was weeping throughout the settlement. People were hurriedly carrying their belongings and fleeing. Children were crying somewhere, old people were screaming somewhere. The bulldozer demolished the bamboo houses one after another. Houses built with years of hardship turned to dust in minutes.

Lalbhadur stood silently watching the scene. The most painful thing was that they were given notice to vacate the settlement only three days prior.

"If we had been given at least 35 days' time, we would have cleaned it ourselves, found another place, and moved slowly," he says, choked with emotion. "Where to go in three days? How to go? My daughter learned to walk in four years, where to take her in three days?" No one has an answer to his question.

Even now, Lalbahadur and Sangita are homeless. They have no land, no safe shelter. But they are still alive. Because life has taught them to get up even after falling many times.

Naima now stands beside her father. She does not speak, but her silent presence is a deep story. That story is the story of a father's relentless struggle. It is the story of a mother's resilience. It is the story of a family that did not give up hope even in deprivation.

Lalbhadur, standing on the dust of Shantipur, looks up at the sky once again. Perhaps he is still dreaming of a safe home.