A Journey from Silence to Research: Why I Stayed

A Journey from Silence to Research: Why I Stayed

When I first joined as a lecturer of Social Work in 2023, I asked my students a simple question: Why did you choose to study social work?

Some confidently shared their excitement about opportunities to travel, participate in field visits, and attend camps. A few expressed a genuine desire to help others and make a difference. However, several students hesitated or remained silent unsure how to respond. Their hesitation revealed a deeper issue: many had chosen their subject without clarity or intention. Others admitted openly that they were applying to go abroad, and if their visa was approved, they would leave even before completing their degree; they said, “Miss, I don’t see any future here”, “If I get my visa, I’ll leave. If not, maybe I’ll study.” 

I was curious to understand what drove them. Was it empathy, altruism, or a real passion to become professional social workers? Or was it just a temporary path, an academic formality to fill time before flying out? These questions made me reflect on my own journey. Like many of them, I hadn’t received any career counseling before choosing my field. I initially studied management in my intermediate level. I loved accounting and business studies but struggled with math. My sister had studied science in high school and later shifted to social work for her bachelor’s and master’s. Encouraged by her, I also switched to social work somewhat unknowingly. At the time, I didn’t fully understand the path I was stepping into.Today, I feel proud of that decision. Social work didn’t just teach me how to help others with scientific knowledge and skills but it changed me from within. It taught me the power of listening, of empathy, of intervention. Despite the fact that social work is still a relatively new subject in Nepal and that the identity of social workers is often dismissed or misunderstood. I found a deep sense of purpose in it.

Yet, I’ve also been reminded that the world doesn’t always respect this profession. I still remember applying for a job at an NGO. During the interview, the founder looked at my background and said bluntly, “Why are you here? This is not your field.” It felt rude. I was rejected. But that moment made me stronger, because it was the moment I decided that through my teaching career, I would advocate for the recognition of social workers and inspire students who have a genuine calling to study this subject, not just those who stumbled into it. 

Still, comments like “You should’ve studied management,” or “If you were a banker, life would be easier,” echo around me even now. During times of crisis, unemployment, and rejection, I too have wondered if I had chosen the wrong path. Had I studied a more technical subject, maybe I’d have a stable job by now. These doubts are real. But so is my commitment to the values of social work.

Seeing Students Prepare to Leave

On just my second day of joining as a lecturer, I met the department head at a restaurant and saw some of my students there not for lunch, but in waiter training, preparing for life abroad. They were enrolled in Bachelor’s not because they were committed to studying, but so they wouldn’t have a “gap” on their certificate in case their visa was delayed or denied.

By the time these students reached the third semester, some had already left the country. Others had gotten married, often to partners abroad, and were preparing to leave too. Attendance in class shrank. When I asked why, their classmates told me honestly: “Some are married, some are gone, and others are planning to go.”

Yet, not all hope is lost. There are still students who want to stay. They attend class regularly, prepare for Loksewa exams, and dream of serving their country. I feel proud of them. They show that change is still possible.

A Broken Bridge: From Education to Employment

What’s happening here reflects a larger national crisis. There’s a huge gap between education and the world of work. I’ve lived this gap myself. Despite holding degrees and gaining field experience, I’ve faced unemployment and underemployment many times. Once, I applied for a counselor position at the local government level. But someone was hired who didn’t even know what counseling meant. I raised concerns, but without proof, I was silenced. Favoritism, nepotism, and political influence often outweigh merit in recruitment. It’s disheartening.

At one point, I too considered going abroad just to escape the constant cycle of rejection and systemic injustice. And yet, I stayed.

Why I Chose Research and Why Daayitwa Mattered !

When I came across the Daayitwa Public Policy Fellowship, I saw a spark of possibility. For the first time in a long time, I felt maybe just maybe things could be different. Maybe we could begin to reshape the system through evidence, policy, and grounded solutions.

That’s why I chose to research “Accelerating Youth-led Enterprises for Employment Generation and Local Economic Development.” Because if young people see a dignified path to stay and work in Nepal, they won’t leave unwillingly. If we create space for their ideas, invest in their skills, and support their innovations, they will choose to lead here not flee.

This research is not just a task. It’s personal. It reflects my classroom, my community, my family’s story. I’ve seen my brothers frustrated by unemployment. I’ve seen my family hesitate to start a business because the risks feel too high. I’ve lived through those same fears.

What Needs to Change? 

Nepal’s youth possess immense potential, but systemic barriers continue to hinder their growth. To create an environment where young people can thrive within the country, we must align education with practical skills by integrating internships, fieldwork, and hands-on learning across all disciplines from technical fields to entrepreneurship and social sciences so that students are better prepared for the workforce. Recruitment systems also need urgent reform; merit-based, transparent, and accountable hiring practices must replace favoritism, particularly in government institutions, to restore youth trust and ensure opportunities are based on competence, not connections. Furthermore, youth entrepreneurship should be recognized as a dignified and promising career path not just supported with grants, but also with consistent mentorship, psychological support, access to markets, and innovation hubs that help turn ideas into sustainable impact.

Final Reflection: Be the Seed of Change: 

I may have once considered leaving Nepal.  But today, through Daayitwa, I feel empowered to be part of the solution. I believe that research can drive reform when it listens to real stories and remains rooted in lived experience. We don’t need to stop young people from dreaming of a better life.

But we must make Nepal a place where that better life is possible. We can’t afford to lose another generation to hopelessness or foreign lands. 

Let’s bridge the gap between classrooms and careers. Let’s replace frustration with fulfillment.

Let’s plant seeds of change. And most importantly let’s stay. Because Nepal needs us.