Often portrayed as poverty-stricken, economically challenged, and marginalised, the Chepangs are among the more isolated Indigenous communities of Nepal. They primarily live in the districts of Chitwan, Makwanpur, Dhading, and Gorkha.
Che means “top” and bang means “hill,” meaning the Chepangs are people of the hills. While this places them away from rivers, it does not shield them from danger, particularly landslides, which have intensified in recent years due to Dozare Bikash (डोजरे विकास), a model of unplanned and haphazard infrastructure development characterised by the reckless use of excavators.
Historically, the Chepangs practised a semi-nomadic way of life rooted in hunting, gathering, fishing, and deep dependence on forest ecosystems. Shifting cultivation (khoriya) developed over time as an adaptive livelihood strategy, particularly as access to forests became increasingly restricted, and agriculture gradually became a key means of survival.
These ways of life were progressively undermined by government policies that restricted hunting, gathering, and the clearing of forest patches, pushing the community toward a settled way of life. Policies such as the Private Forest Nationalization Act of 1957 significantly limited forest access, contributing to a gradual and complex transition toward agriculture and the displacement of long-standing Indigenous practices.
“It has been only a little over a hundred fifty years since the Chepangs adopted agriculture. However, this integration into so-called society has not been without challenges,” says Bishwash Chepang, a member of Nepal’s Chepang Indigenous community who works at the intersection of social and environmental justice.
This transition, carried out without structural change and without adequate state support, exacerbated poverty and inequality while making access to basic needs, including nutritious food, secure housing, safe drinking water, education, and healthcare, increasingly difficult for the community.
Originally from Korak, a village in Chitwan (now part of Rapti Municipality), Bishwash works on Indigenous land rights, climate justice, community-led conservation, and strengthening customary governance systems while resisting exclusionary conservation practices. He often travels outside the valley to provide climate change training to Indigenous women, an experience he describes as a significant learning process for himself.
Climate change, therefore, is not only a scientific or environmental issue; it is also a social, political, and justice issue. It intersects with class, caste, indigeneity, and power. Addressing it requires listening to Indigenous communities, recognising their rights, and valuing their knowledge.
“This April, I went to my village during maize planting season, but there was no rain and the land was too dry. The timing of the planting season has changed,” he adds.
Climate change has significantly altered planting times, crop cycles, and weather patterns, deeply affecting agriculture. Bishwash notes that summer seasons, once favourable from Falgun through Jestha, are now largely confined to Baisakh and Jestha. Cropping cycles have shifted, rainfall has become irregular, soil fertility has declined, and agriculture has grown increasingly difficult in many villages.
Living in geographically challenging hills with no irrigation systems, the Chepangs grow Ghaiya rice (upland rice), which requires less water than lowland paddy. Even this has become harder as climate-induced weather shifts intensify. Planting seasons for maize, buckwheat, and horse gram have also changed, leading to reduced cultivation—one of the most significant climate impacts on the community.
“Compared to the fertile plains, the hills where the Chepangs live are mostly rocky, so cultivation is inherently unfavourable,” Bishwash says. “Add climate change to these pre-existing problems, and it pushes an already vulnerable community to the brink of food scarcity.”
For centuries, the Chepangs practised Khoriya, a form of shifting cultivation where crops are grown on a plot for three years and then left fallow to recover naturally while another plot is cultivated. However, Bishwash explains that forest acts and regulations have disrupted this practice, with community forests encroaching on lands traditionally used for Khoriya.
Another major issue is the absence of land ownership certificates. “More than 95 percent of Chepang people do not possess land ownership certificates,” Bishwash shares, citing a documentary by an Indigenous news outlet.
This lack of legal recognition leaves people without claims to land they have lived on, cultivated, or used for livestock for decades, making them vulnerable to eviction and homelessness.
Four to ten years ago, over 60 percent of Chepangs lacked citizenship certificates, making land ownership impossible. There have been numerous cases of forceful evictions, including a 2019 incident wherein a Chepang family’s home was burned, and was forced to relocate near a river, exposing them to flood risks. Other relocations, often politically motivated, have further deepened suffering.
Large portions of Indigenous lands have been declared community or national forests without proper consultation or consent. This has created deep feelings of exclusion and injustice, as people are restricted from accessing land they have historically depended on, often without compensation, relocation support, or recognition of ancestral land rights.
Chepangs living near national parks, particularly in Chitwan, have faced forced evictions. Bishwash recounts another visit to his village. “It was maize planting season, but heavy rainfall left the corn full of holes,” he says, noting that crop damage has become a recurring problem.
Community members have also observed changes in rhododendron blooming seasons. . Soil fertility has declined, crop yields have fallen, and water shortages have worsened. Rivers are often the only water source, yet their origins are drying.
Additionally, women bear the burden of collecting water, leading to serious health impacts such as uterine prolapse and hernia—a long-standing problem. Climate change disproportionately affects Indigenous women, who face increased workloads, food insecurity, and limited access to land ownership or decision-making power. Despite their central role in conservation and resource management, they are rarely consulted in policy processes.
Reduced agricultural production has also led to severe malnutrition. Bishwash’s training sessions focused on analysing climate impacts across agriculture, water, forests, health, livelihoods, and culture.
“People once grew leafy greens in abundance to make gundruk, but now they cannot grow enough even for their own families,” he explains.
Livestock-rearing families face fodder shortages, while increased pesticide use, droughts, and wildfires further strain livelihoods. Communities that depend on forests for wild yams and tubers are also affected, as these food sources are becoming increasingly scarce.
The impact on cultural practices is another growing concern. The Chepang harvest festival Nawangi (or Chhonam), which involves offering new grains and fruits to ancestors and gods, cannot be celebrated without Ghaiya rice.
Chepangs practise sustainability through everyday knowledge: knowing which fish to catch and how many, how much fodder to cut to allow regrowth, and planting trees on burial sites so the dead return to and nourish the soil.
The community also has a deep socio-economic relationship with Chiuri. Earlier generations gave Chiuri as dowry, and it remains central to income generation and household sustenance. Although Chiuri ownership certificates once issued by the Divisional Forest Office are fading, the community is determined to reclaim them.
Time and again, the Chepangs have faced exclusionary conservation practices, against which Bishwash has been strongly vocal.
“The forest belongs to us, and we belong to the forest,” Bishwash says. “The lands our ancestors cultivated for generations have suddenly been declared community forests, excluding us from our livelihoods.”
National parks were established without consulting communities, leading to forced evictions. Without citizenship or land ownership certificates, statelessness becomes easy to impose.
Another ongoing issue is the lack of awareness and compensation related to human-wildlife conflict. Crop destruction often goes uncompensated, especially for those without land ownership, creating a cascading cycle of exclusion.
For the Chepangs, climate change cannot be separated from land, citizenship, and power. Changing weather patterns are made more devastating by policies that deny Indigenous people rights to the land and forests they have depended on for generations.
Therefore, it is imperative to acknowledge that indigenous communities are not obstacles to conservation; they are its backbone. Any meaningful response to the climate crisis must begin by recognising Indigenous land rights, valuing lived knowledge, and ensuring that communities like the Chepangs are not excluded in the name of development or protection.