Food Banks Were Meant to Be a Bridge, Not a Way of Life

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

In March 2026, Canadians made 2.35 million visits to food banks. It was the highest monthly number ever recorded and more than double the level of March 2019. In Toronto, Daily Bread Food Bank and North York Harvest Food Bank reported 4.1 million client visits in the year before April 2025, an increase of 340 per cent since 2019. More than 112,000 people used a food bank for the first time in that year alone.

Across Canada, more than 65,000 people were counted as homeless on a single night in 2025. That was 59 per cent higher than in 2020 to 2022. In Toronto, an estimated 12,196 people were experiencing homelessness in October 2025, including 1,446 people staying outdoors.

At the same time, many Canadians say they feel less safe. They see homelessness, addiction, mental-health distress, theft, and sometimes violence in their neighbourhoods. Canada’s Crime Severity Index did fall by 5 per cent in 2025, but that statistic does not erase the fear people feel on a dark street, at a bus stop, or outside a shelter.

These numbers describe a country under strain. They describe people who cannot afford rent, food, medicine, or safety. They describe cities where emergency services have become part of everyday life.

This is not the Canada I imagined when I came here.

Canada meant opportunity, fairness, order, and a decent life for people who worked hard. Like many immigrants, I admired its public institutions and its reputation for looking after those who had fallen behind. I believed Canada was a place where a person who worked honestly could live with dignity.

That is why the news I keep hearing now troubles me so deeply.

Behind every food-bank visit is a person making an impossible choice between rent and groceries, between medication and food, between paying the heating bill and feeding the children. Behind every homeless count is someone without a stable place to sleep. Behind every conversation about crime is a community asking why basic needs have become so difficult to meet.

Hunger has changed its face

For a long time, many Canadians imagined food-bank users as homeless people living on the street. That image is no longer enough. Hunger has entered apartments, workplaces, university campuses, and family homes.

Nearly one in five food-bank clients in Canada is employed. Children account for about one-third of food-bank visits. These are people who wake up, go to work, study, care for their families, and still cannot make their incomes stretch far enough.

When I hear such numbers, I think of Nepal, where poverty has often been visible and where many families have learned to live with scarcity. Canada was supposed to be different.

I still believe that. But belief alone does not put food on the table.

A rich country with a growing problem

Some people ask how this can happen in one of the richest countries in the world. I think the better question is why a rich country has allowed hunger to become so ordinary.

Canada has always had poor people. What has changed is the scale of the problem and the willingness to treat it as normal. Food banks were meant to be emergency bridges. A person might need one after losing a job, after an illness, after a family breakdown, or after an unexpected expense. They were never meant to become a permanent part of life for millions of people.

Yet that is what is happening. When millions of visits become routine, the failure does not belong to charity. It belongs to public policy.

The reasons are not mysterious. Rents have risen faster than incomes. Grocery prices climbed after the pandemic, inflation, supply disruptions, and trade pressures. Many people work in low-paid or unstable jobs. Social assistance and disability benefits have not kept pace with the real cost of living. Newcomers, international students, refugees, single parents, seniors, and people with disabilities often face extra barriers.

COVID-19 did not create these weaknesses. It exposed them. Then it made them worse.

Charity deserves praise, but it cannot replace policy

Organizations such as Daily Bread, North York Harvest, and Second Harvest deserve enormous respect. They feed people, rescue surplus food, mobilize volunteers, and preserve dignity in difficult circumstances. Second Harvest reported distributing 95.3 million pounds of food through community organizations across Canada in its 2025 fiscal year.

The recent attack on Second Harvest’s food-rescue trucks showed both the cruelty and the decency present in our society. Thieves broke into the charity’s Etobicoke yard over Thanksgiving weekend, cut the catalytic converters from seven of its eight trucks, and left most of its fleet unable to deliver food.

Then something good happened. Aurora Foods, a Toronto family business, donated $60,000 to help repair the trucks. Community members also offered money, food, and even vehicles. That generosity deserves praise.

But it also raises an uncomfortable question. Why should a charity that rescues food for hungry people have to depend on emergency donations just to keep its trucks on the road?

We should admire volunteers, donors, and community organizations. We should also refuse to accept a society in which charity must constantly repair what public policy has failed to protect.

Foreign aid and our own people

Some people now say Canada should stop helping Ukraine or reduce foreign aid because Canadians at home are struggling. I understand the anger behind that feeling. When people here cannot afford food, it is natural to ask why resources are being spent elsewhere.

But I do not think the answer is to abandon Ukraine or retreat from the world. Canada can support Ukraine and also feed its own people. These are not either-or choices.

The real issue is different. Canada should not use international commitments as an excuse to neglect people at home. Nor should it use hardship at home as an excuse to abandon its responsibilities abroad.

A mature country can do both. It can defend democratic allies overseas and protect vulnerable people within its own borders. The question is whether our governments have the political will to treat poverty at home with the same urgency they show during foreign crises.

More police cannot solve hunger

There is another uncomfortable issue. Crime, homelessness, addiction, and mental-health crises are becoming more visible in our cities. Some people respond by demanding more police and harsher laws.

Police have a role, especially where there is violence, theft, or exploitation. But police cannot build affordable housing. They cannot raise wages. They cannot improve disability benefits. They cannot make groceries affordable.

Poverty does not automatically produce crime, and most poor people are not criminals. But prolonged desperation can push people toward dangerous situations. It can lead to exploitative work, informal economies, addiction, conflict, and despair.

If people cannot meet their basic needs through legitimate means, society becomes less safe for everyone. That is why slogans about being tough on crime are not enough. A country cannot arrest its way out of hunger, homelessness, or hopelessness.

Employment insurance is not enough

Recent changes to Employment Insurance may help some workers affected by tariffs and job losses. Since March 2025, eligible claimants have benefited from the removal of the usual one-week waiting period, flexibility around severance payments, and extended benefits for some long-tenured workers.

These measures may prevent an immediate income collapse for some families. But temporary measures are not the same as a durable income-security system.

Many people who face food insecurity are not covered by EI at all. They may be self-employed, working too few hours, new to Canada, between precarious jobs, or living on disability or social assistance. When rents and food prices rise, these people have little protection.

A country that patches emergencies one by one will always be reacting too late. It needs stronger foundations.

Not only Canada’s problem

This is not uniquely Canadian. After COVID-19, many wealthy countries have faced rising food insecurity, housing stress, and pressure on emergency services. The United States, the United Kingdom, and parts of Europe have seen similar debates about working people relying on food charities.

In poorer countries, the crisis may look different. Families may eat fewer meals, borrow more, migrate, or depend on informal work. But the underlying issue is similar. The pandemic, inflation, war, climate disruption, and unequal economic systems have made survival harder for people already living close to the edge.

Canada’s case is especially troubling because this country has the wealth, institutions, and public values to do better. When a rich country allows hunger to become ordinary, it faces not only an economic problem but a moral one.

What Canada must do

Canada needs more than sympathy, donation drives, and temporary programs. It needs policies that reduce the need for food banks in the first place.

We need genuinely affordable housing. We need income supports that reflect the real cost of living. We need accessible childcare, transit, and health care. We need protection for workers trapped in precarious employment. We need reforms that do not leave newcomers, students, and refugees in prolonged insecurity. And we need governments to treat food insecurity as an emergency, with clear targets and public accountability.

Food banks should be able to shrink, not grow. Their success should be measured not by how many people they feed, but by how many people no longer need them.

I still believe in Canada. I believe in its generosity, its institutions, and its capacity for fairness. But a country is judged not only by how it helps people far away. It is also judged by how it treats those who are hungry, homeless, and struggling within its own borders.

Food banks were meant to be a bridge. They must not become the destination.

Do We Want the Truth, or Just Our Side to Win?

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

I was thinking of writing this post today, but I hesitated. Having often spoken in support of Dalits and marginalized communities, I wondered whether questioning the actions of certain individuals might be interpreted as speaking against those very communities. But is remaining silent the same as standing for justice?

First, let me make one thing clear. This post is not against the rights, representation, or pursuit of justice for Dalits or other marginalized communities. Communities that have historically faced discrimination and exclusion deserve equal opportunities, dignity, and justice. But questioning the actions of individuals who have established themselves in public life in the name of these communities is not the same as questioning the communities themselves.

Why has an old audio recording associated with Khagendra Sunar resurfaced in public debate now? Who released it, why, and in what context? Is the recording authentic? What is the context of the statements it contains? All these questions should be examined on the basis of evidence. The fact that an old recording has resurfaced does not make it false, just as its public circulation does not automatically prove that everything in it is authentic or accurate. We cannot rule out the possibility of technological manipulation or AI-generated content, but neither should we accept such claims as the final truth without evidence.

Similarly, should the rejection of Giri Bahadur Sunar’s nomination as ambassador be viewed solely through the lens of caste discrimination, or should we also objectively examine the relevant facts, qualifications, answers given during the parliamentary hearing, and questions raised about the nomination? If caste discrimination played a role, it should be challenged. But if there are other legitimate reasons or supporting evidence behind the decision, those must also be heard. Before supporting or opposing a decision, we need to understand the grounds on which it was made.

My point is not that Dalit individuals should be held to a stricter standard than others. Rather, everyone should be judged by the same fair standards. People from marginalized communities may face additional barriers because of historical discrimination, so ensuring equal opportunities and justice for them is essential. But providing equal opportunities and exempting someone from accountability are two different things.

The fact that someone comes from a Dalit community, claims to have fought for Dalit rights, or presents themselves politically as an agent of change does not mean that everything they do is right. Similarly, one controversy involving an individual does not automatically invalidate their entire contribution. The question is not about a person’s caste or identity, but about their actions, decisions, conduct, and accountability.

An even more important question is this: How much has the personal advancement of individuals who have risen to prominence in the name of Dalit communities actually changed the lives of those who remain the most disadvantaged? Does representation simply mean that a few people reach positions of power, or does it also open doors for those who have been denied access to opportunities, education, dignity, resources, and decision-making? The answer should come from their work and its outcomes, not merely from our emotions.

We see the same problem in our political culture. When someone from their own camp is questioned, some people respond not by addressing the questions but by accusing the person asking them of supporting the old political parties, being an opponent, or having failed to receive some personal benefit. The tendency to condemn the mistakes of others while remaining silent about the mistakes of one’s own side is not limited to any one party or community. It weakens our ability to seek the truth.

We must take caste discrimination and racial profiling seriously. If someone is treated unfairly because of their identity, we should oppose it. But if we begin to interpret every criticism as discrimination and every allegation as a conspiracy, it becomes harder both to identify genuine discrimination and to ensure accountability for actual wrongdoing.

My request is simple. Let us not assume someone is guilty because of their identity, but neither should we place anyone beyond questioning because of that identity. Let us not treat allegations as proof, and let us not select or reject evidence according to whether it supports our side.

Standing up for marginalized communities does not mean blindly supporting everyone who claims to speak on their behalf. It also means being willing to ask how accountable those who gain political influence or public prominence in their name truly are to the communities they claim to represent.

We must learn not to seek the truth merely to prove our own side right, but to use the truth to determine whether our side is right or wrong. Otherwise, parties may change, leaders may change, and faces may change, but the political culture of protecting wrongdoing and suppressing legitimate questions will remain the same. And the country will remain where it is.

Falling Ontario Condo Values and the Management Crisis Behind Them

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

I recently listened to an episode of the Angry Mortgage Podcast that stayed with me, especially when I thought about how many people in the GTA and beyond have put their savings into condominiums. For many investors the plan seems simple enough. Buy a condo, rent it out, let the tenant cover most of the mortgage, and wait for the property to appreciate.

Most of the current conversation about GTA condos centres on falling prices, high interest rates, weak rental returns, pre-construction buyers who cannot close, and owners forced to sell. Those problems are serious. The case discussed on the podcast points to a different one, which is what happens when the condominium corporation itself runs into financial trouble, and the building’s governance comes into question.

According to the podcast, a property management company connected to a group of Ontario condominium properties has faced bankruptcy proceedings, with millions of dollars reportedly owed to creditors. The debts allegedly include unpaid bills to electricity and water providers, insurers, elevator service companies, garbage collectors and snow-removal contractors. The total was reportedly around $5 million.

If those allegations are accurate, this goes well beyond an accounting problem. It raises the question of whether the buildings can keep running normally.

When you buy a condo, you own your unit, but your investment depends on a much larger system. Someone has to maintain the elevators, heat the building, clear the snow, collect the garbage, look after the common areas and keep the insurance in place. Someone also has to pay all the bills. That only works if the condominium corporation is financially healthy.

A building can look fine from the outside while serious problems build behind the scenes. Picture an investor who bought because the price looked attractive and the spreadsheet made sense. The tenant pays rent every month and the mortgage gets paid. Then an elevator stops working, the garbage piles up, and a contractor refuses to come back because earlier invoices were never paid. The building’s insurance becomes uncertain. At that point, the value of the unit no longer depends only on what another buyer will pay. It depends on whether the whole building functions.

The podcast raises these concerns directly, including the worry that essential contractors might stop servicing buildings if they are not paid. For someone living on the tenth floor, a working elevator is a basic necessity. For an investor, it helps protect the value and livability of the asset.

Most buyers focus on the purchase price, monthly condo fees, mortgage payment, expected rent, property taxes and projected appreciation. Those numbers matter, but they leave out a lot. Investors also need to look at the health of the condominium corporation itself. How much is in the reserve fund, and are the condo fees high enough to sustain it? Are there large outstanding liabilities, major repairs on the horizon or special assessments coming? Can you get the financial statements? Are there disputes with contractors? Is the property manager on solid financial footing?

The most important question may be who is actually making decisions on behalf of the unit owners.

The podcast raises a serious governance concern on this point. According to the discussion, an individual connected to the developer allegedly also controlled the property management company and the condominium boards, while the people who bought the units had no meaningful representation on those boards. Whether those allegations hold up is for regulators and courts to decide. Still, the governance issue deserves attention on its own.

A condominium corporation is supposed to represent the unit owners. When the same people or related entities influence development, management, rental operations and governance, investors should understand exactly how those relationships work. They should know who owns, who manages, who controls, who gets paid and who is accountable. These questions can directly affect someone’s life savings.

One of the most striking suggestions in the podcast is that investors kept receiving rental income even while large debts were allegedly piling up elsewhere in the system. A rental property can look like it is performing well simply because the rent arrives every month. Cash flow today does not tell you whether the underlying asset is financially sound. An investor might look at the bank account and conclude that everything is fine, but a paid rent cheque and a financially sustainable building are separate matters.

Tenants also deserve attention here. The podcast repeatedly stresses the potential impact on the thousands of tenants living in affected properties. If electricity, water, heating, elevators, garbage collection or snow removal are disrupted, tenants can end up in a very vulnerable position. Many of them had nothing to do with the financial decisions behind the problem. They rented an apartment, and they may feel the consequences first. That makes a condo crisis a housing, consumer-protection and community issue as well as an investment story.

I do not think the takeaway is to never buy a condo, and I am not suggesting that every condo corporation or property manager is heading for bankruptcy. The point is simpler. A condo purchase is more than the purchase of a unit. You are also buying into a corporation, a governance structure, a management system and a shared financial obligation.

Existing owners may want to take a closer look at their own condominium corporation. Read the financial statements and understand the reserve fund. Find out whether major repairs or special assessments are coming. Know who sits on the board and who manages the building. Pay attention to any significant legal or financial trouble involving the corporation or its management. None of this is exciting, but it may matter far more than watching the daily movement of condo prices.

The GTA market has spent years encouraging people to see real estate as one of the safest investments around, and for many that belief became almost automatic. Every investment carries risk, though. A condo brings market risk, interest-rate risk, rental risk, construction risk, regulatory risk and management risk. Sometimes the biggest risk sits outside your unit, in the system around it.

The situation discussed on the Angry Mortgage Podcast is worth watching, especially for anyone who has bought GTA condos or condo conversions as rentals. One troubled case does not represent every condominium in Ontario. It does remind us of something investors can easily forget. When you buy a condo, you are not investing alone. You become part of a shared financial and governance system, and when that system fails, the consequences can reach well beyond the walls of your own unit.

When the Condo Investment Stops Making Sense

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

I recently listened to an episode of the Angry Mortgage Podcast about the growing problems in Canada’s pre-construction condo market. The language was blunt, and at times deliberately provocative, but the message caught my attention because many people in our community in the Greater Toronto Area and other parts of Canada have invested heavily in pre-construction condos.

For some, the problem has already arrived. Condo prices have fallen significantly in some markets, rents have not increased as expected, and higher mortgage rates and maintenance fees have made the numbers much harder to manage. For others, the real problem may come when their pre-construction unit is finally ready to close.

This is an important part of the pre-construction model that many buyers may not have fully considered. You may have agreed to buy a condo three or four years ago for $800,000, for example. You may have already paid a substantial deposit. But what happens if the completed unit is now worth only $650,000?

The developer still expects the original $800,000.

The bank, however, is interested in what the property is worth today.

That difference can create a serious financial problem. The Bank of Canada recently highlighted this exact risk, noting that a condo bought for $1 million could potentially be worth only $700,000 when it is ready for closing. The buyer may still be legally obligated to complete the purchase at the original price.

The other common assumption is that the property can simply be rented out and the tenant will pay the mortgage. That worked much better when interest rates were low and rents were rising quickly. Today, however, the mathematics are not always so attractive.

A condo owner cannot decide how much rent a unit should generate. The rental market decides. If a small condo costs $4,000 a month to carry but similar units can only be rented for $2,800 or $3,000, the investor has to cover the difference.

This is where the discussion in the podcast about Calgary becomes interesting. In some Canadian markets, renters have alternatives. If a tenant can rent a townhouse or another larger home for roughly the same amount as a small condo, the condo may not be as attractive. Population growth alone does not guarantee that every condo will have enough rental demand at the price an investor needs.

Toronto is somewhat different because of its high land costs and the concentration of employment in the urban core. Condos will continue to play an important role in Toronto’s housing market. But that does not mean every condo is a good investment. Recent data show that Toronto’s condo market is adjusting, with prices still significantly lower than a year earlier even as sales have begun to improve.

This is why I think we need to move away from the simple belief that real estate always goes up.

Real estate can be a good long-term investment, but the investment still has to make financial sense. The purchase price, mortgage, maintenance fees, property taxes, insurance and expected rent all matter. So does the question of what happens if the property is worth less than expected when it is completed.

For members of our community who have already purchased pre-construction condos, this is not a reason to panic. But it is a reason to look carefully at the numbers and understand the options before the closing date arrives. Anyone facing an appraisal gap, difficulty obtaining financing or the possibility of not being able to close should get independent advice from a qualified mortgage professional and a real estate lawyer.

For those thinking about buying a pre-construction condo, perhaps the most important question is not whether condo prices will eventually rise again. Nobody can know that with certainty. The better question is whether you can still afford the property if prices do not rise. An investment should not depend entirely on the market doing what you hope it will do. In the end, real estate is not just about owning a property. It is about whether the numbers work. And when the numbers stop working, the mortgage still comes due.

Canada’s Current Housing Market: घरको अभाव हो कि किन्न सक्ने क्षमताको?

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

Vaughan, Hamilton, Mississauga तथा GTA का अन्य क्षेत्रमा प्रि-कन्स्ट्रक्सन कन्डोमा लगानी गर्नुभएका साथीहरूका लागि मैले केही समयदेखि कन्डो बजारको अवस्थालाई नजिकबाट हेरिरहेको छु। हालै Globe and Mail को एउटा रिपोर्टले पनि चिन्ताजनक तस्वीर देखाएको छ। Vaughan Metropolitan Centre मा ९६६ नयाँ कन्डो अर्थात् उपलब्ध inventory को करिब ४३% अझै बिक्री हुन बाँकी छ भने Downtown Hamilton मा १,१२७ युनिट अर्थात् ३४% बिक्री हुन बाँकी रहेको रिपोर्टमा उल्लेख छ।

तर यहाँ एउटा अझ ठूलो प्रश्न उठ्छ—यदि Ontario र Canada मा घरको अभाव छ भने condos मात्र होइन, townhomes, semis र detached homes समेत कतिपय ठाउँमा किन बिक्री हुन कठिन भइरहेको छ? मलाई लाग्छ, यसको उत्तर केवल “घर कम छन्” भनेर दिन सकिँदैन। समस्या अहिले housing shortage मात्र नभएर affordability, price, mortgage cost, income र market demand बीचको ठूलो mismatch पनि हो। मानिसलाई घर चाहिएको हुन सक्छ, तर चाहनु र आजको मूल्यमा किन्न सक्नु एउटै कुरा होइन। एउटा परिवारलाई $10,00,000 को घर आवश्यक पर्न सक्छ, तर उसको आम्दानी र mortgage qualification ले $500,000 मात्र धान्न सक्छ। त्यस अवस्थामा बजारमा घर भएर पनि त्यो परिवारका लागि त्यो घर वास्तवमा “उपलब्ध” हुँदैन।

कन्डो बजारले यो कुरा अझ स्पष्ट देखाइरहेको छ। प्रि-कन्स्ट्रक्सन कन्डो किन्दा “भविष्यमा मूल्य बढ्छ, भाडाले mortgage धान्छ र सजिलै resale हुन्छ” भन्ने अपेक्षा धेरैको थियो। तर अहिले नयाँ कन्डोको मूल्य कतिपय resale unit भन्दा महँगो हुन सक्छ, भाडा आम्दानीमा पनि दबाब आएको छ, र क्लोजिङका बेला appraisal खरिद मूल्यभन्दा कम भयो भने थप रकम जुटाउनुपर्ने जोखिम हुन्छ।

अझ रोचक कुरा के छ भने आजको कमजोर बिक्रीले भोलिको housing supply लाई पनि असर गर्न सक्छ। CMHC का अनुसार condominium presales कमजोर हुँदा developers ले नयाँ परियोजना ढिलाइ गर्ने, रद्द गर्ने वा rental मा परिवर्तन गर्ने अवस्था देखिएको छ। Ontario मा 2026 को housing starts करिब दुई दशकयताकै न्यून स्तरतर्फ जाने अनुमान गरिएको छ, मुख्य कारणमध्ये condo pre-construction sales को कमजोरी पनि हो।

त्यसैले मेरो विचारमा Canada को housing debate लाई केवल “हामीलाई अझ धेरै घर चाहिन्छ” भन्ने नारामा सीमित गर्नु पर्याप्त छैन। प्रश्न यो पनि हो—कस्ता घर चाहिन्छ? कहाँ चाहिन्छ? र सबैभन्दा महत्वपूर्ण, ती घरहरू कसले किन्न सक्छ? घरको संख्या बढाउनु आवश्यक होला, तर आम मानिसले किन्न नसक्ने मूल्यमा थप घर बनाउँदै जानु मात्र समाधान होइन। आजको market ले हामीलाई शायद यही पाठ सिकाइरहेको छ: housing shortage र housing affordability एउटै समस्या होइनन्, तर यी दुई एकअर्कासँग गहिरो रूपमा जोडिएका छन्।

त्यसैले प्रि-कन्स्ट्रक्सन वा resale मा लगानी गर्नुभएका साथीहरूले अहिले बजारलाई पुरानो “घरको मूल्य सधैं बढ्छ” भन्ने मानसिकताबाट होइन, हालको resale value, mortgage, rent, condo fee, property tax, appraisal र आफ्नो वास्तविक cash-flow हेरेर मूल्याङ्कन गर्नु आवश्यक छ। हल्ला र Facebook marketing भन्दा तथ्य र आफ्नो आर्थिक क्षमतामा आधारित निर्णय गर्ने समय हो।

घर चाहिने मानिस धेरै छन्; तर आजको मूल्यमा किन्न सक्ने मानिस कति छन्? शायद क्यानडाको housing crisis बुझ्ने मुख्य प्रश्न यही हो।

Reopening Nepal’s Closed Industries In RSP Era

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

I had been thinking about the proposal to reopen Nepal’s closed industries for some time, but I hesitated to speak publicly after seeing the emotional reactions of many Ranstriya Swontantra Party (RSP) supporters on social networking sites. For many of them, reopening a factory appeared to represent patriotism, national pride, self reliance, employment, and the rejection of previous governments. Questioning its practicality could easily be interpreted as opposition to Nepal or to political change.

My hesitation did not come from a lack of opinion. I was concerned that an economic question would be reduced to a test of political loyalty. After reading Prime Minister Balen Shah’s status and listening to Gagan Thapa’s video response, I felt that the subject deserved a wider and more practical discussion.

The promise to reopen closed industries is politically attractive. It evokes employment, national pride, and the belief that Nepal should produce more of what it consumes. It also creates a powerful political contrast. Previous governments allowed national industries to collapse, the argument goes, while a new government will bring them back to life.

The emotional appeal is understandable. Yet popularity and practicality are not the same thing.

If an industry operated at a loss for years and eventually closed, it cannot be revived merely through patriotism, good intentions, or the determination of a new government. A closed factory is not simply a sleeping giant waiting to be awakened. It may be the result of outdated technology, weak management, excessive staffing, political interference, high debt, poor procurement, an unsuitable market, or a business model that no longer works.

Before asking when an industry should reopen, we should first ask why it closed.

Balen Shah’s status presents several public institutions as examples of early improvement. He refers to increased sales and reported profit at Nepal Drugs Limited, higher sales and reduced arrears at the Dairy Development Corporation, increased revenue and seat occupancy at Nepal Airlines, test production at Hetauda Textile Industry, and increased production at Singha Durbar Baidhyakhana.

These developments may be encouraging. If a public institution has improved production, collected more revenue, met quality standards, or paid farmers more regularly, those results deserve recognition. But an encouraging sign is not the same as a successful business. Increased sales do not necessarily mean increased profit. Higher revenue does not necessarily mean lower debt. Beginning production does not mean that a sustainable market has been secured.

This is the main point raised by Gagan Thapa. His criticism may contain political calculation, but the economic questions he raises are important. If the Dairy Development Corporation reduced its outstanding payments to farmers, did it do so through operating profits, or did the Ministry of Finance provide additional money? If daily sales increased from Rs. 60 lakh to Rs. 90 lakh, how much did the costs of milk procurement, wages, transport, interest, maintenance, administration, and distribution increase?

The response from RSP lawmaker Rajib Khatri illustrates the confusion. He argued that if sales increased by Rs. 30 lakh and the profit was only one rupee per litre, the additional profit would be Rs. 30 lakh. But the reported figures refer to sales revenue, not the number of litres sold. Without knowing the additional quantity and the actual net margin, his calculation cannot establish that profit increased by Rs. 30 lakh. This is not a question of being against industry. It is a basic question of accounting.

The personal attacks surrounding this debate are equally unhelpful. Some people defend Gagan Thapa by referring to his political history, imprisonment, education, and contribution to democracy. Others defend the RSP government by accusing its critics of jealousy or hostility to national industries. A person’s political history does not automatically make every economic argument correct. Similarly, a new political party is not automatically right simply because it emerged from public dissatisfaction with the old parties.

Public institutions should be judged through audited accounts, net profit, debt, subsidies, productivity, and long term performance. The debate should move away from personal insults and return to evidence.

There is another danger that deserves greater attention. Reopening public industries may once again turn them into employment centres for party cadres, relatives, and political loyalists. This has been a problem under successive governments since the restoration of democracy. The Nepali Congress, UML, and Maoist governments all contributed to a political culture in which public institutions could be used to reward supporters.

I have seen friends appointed as general managers of industries during the governments of political parties with which they were affiliated. Some later moved to the United States or Canada and worked in occupations completely unrelated to industrial management. This is not an attack on those individuals. It is a criticism of a system that placed political connection above professional competence.

The RSP emerged by criticizing this culture of patronage. That is why its conduct should be examined carefully. A new party should not reproduce the old practices while using a different language. Changing the party in power does not automatically change the system. If reopened industries are filled with cadres and relatives instead of qualified engineers, managers, technicians, and accountants, they will soon reproduce the same inefficiency and losses.

Gagan Thapa’s broader point also deserves consideration. The government’s primary responsibility is to create a fair business environment, regulate markets, protect the public interest, and support strategically important sectors. It does not necessarily have to operate every commercial factory, airline, textile mill, or trading institution. Essential medicines, food security, emergency supply, and national resilience may justify public ownership. Ordinary commercial production should generally be managed by professional and accountable businesses, whether public, private, or operated through genuine partnerships.

Nepal does not have to choose between reopening every closed factory and selling every public enterprise. Each institution should be evaluated separately. Some may be strategically important. Some may become viable after restructuring. Some may be better operated through public private partnerships. Others may be beyond repair and should be closed in an orderly manner.

For every institution, the government should publish a clear plan explaining its purpose, required investment, market, production costs, staffing, debt, subsidy, management structure, and performance targets. Recruitment must be open and competitive. Senior appointments should be based on qualifications and experience, not political loyalty.

Patriotism does not mean reopening an old factory regardless of cost. Patriotism means using public money carefully and honestly. If a closed industry can become competitive through new technology, capable management, a clear market, and transparent financial planning, it deserves an opportunity. But a flag, a ceremony, and a photograph of a factory floor cannot make an industry viable.

A factory needs customers, productivity, quality, discipline, competent management, and accountability. Reopening a closed industry may be a meaningful policy. Reopening a failed business model and filling it with political appointees is not economic nationalism. It is simply repeating the past with a new slogan.

Canada’s Housing Market Is Unfair, Not Broken

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

Canada’s housing crisis is usually described as a problem of supply and demand. Build more homes, the argument goes, and prices will eventually come down. That explanation contains some truth, but it also hides a deeper reality that Cara Stern brings out in her conversation with mortgage expert Ron Butler. Canada’s housing crisis is not only about supply. It is about fairness.

The question is no longer simply why houses are expensive. The more important question is why the rules of homeownership have changed so dramatically for one generation while remaining so favorable for another.

A society cannot remain healthy when people working full time, including teachers, nurses, grocery store managers, engineers, and young professionals, can no longer afford to live in the communities they serve. Housing is more than a commodity or an investment. It is the base on which people build families, careers, communities, and a sense of belonging.

Listening to Stern and Butler, one realizes that the conversation is not really about mortgages or real estate. It is about how decades of public policy have quietly reshaped the Canadian dream.

From Ordinary to Unreachable

Ron Butler recalls entering the mortgage industry more than three decades ago when an assistant grocery store manager and a registered nurse could regularly purchase a home in the Greater Toronto Area with a modest down payment. Home prices generally ranged between two and a half and three and a half times a household’s annual income.

Today, in many Canadian cities, particularly Toronto and Vancouver, home prices have reached seven, eight, or even twelve times household income.

That is not just inflation. It is a complete redefinition of adulthood.

For previous generations, buying a home was a realistic milestone reached through employment and savings. For many young Canadians today, homeownership increasingly depends on inherited wealth, parental support, or the willingness to take on decades of crushing debt.

We are told this is progress. It is not. It is a narrowing of social mobility dressed up as a normal market adjustment.

The Myth of Equal Effort

One of the strongest points Stern makes is that acknowledging generational inequality does not diminish the hard work of previous generations.

Many older Canadians respond, quite understandably, by saying, “We worked hard too.”

No one seriously disputes that. The issue is not effort. The issue is whether equal effort still produces equal opportunity.

A young couple earning above the national median income, saving diligently, avoiding extravagance, and making responsible choices can still find themselves priced out of family sized housing. If financially responsible households cannot buy modest homes, the problem cannot be reduced to budgeting discipline or lifestyle choices.

It becomes structural.

Stern speaks from experience. She and her husband were earning above the median household income, living frugally, and saving consistently. Yet they still found themselves unable to purchase even very small homes that could accommodate the family they hoped to build.

That frustration eventually became professional curiosity. Instead of accepting the situation as inevitable, she began asking why the housing market seemed so detached from ordinary incomes. That inquiry led her into housing journalism.

Housing Is a Policy Choice

Perhaps the most important insight in the conversation is Stern’s insistence that today’s housing crisis did not simply happen. It was created through policy.

Too often Canadians speak about housing affordability as though it were a force of nature. It is not.

Governments make decisions about zoning regulations. Governments determine development charges. Governments decide how municipalities finance infrastructure. Governments establish tax systems. Governments regulate land use. Governments shape immigration targets. Governments influence mortgage rules.

Every one of those choices affects housing affordability.

In Stern’s words, the economy is a series of choices.

That changes the whole conversation. If policy helped create the crisis, policy can also help solve it. The challenge is not mainly technical. It is political.

The trouble is that political courage is usually in short supply when the people most protected by the current system are also the loudest defenders of it.

When Cities Fund Themselves Through Housing

One of Butler’s strongest criticisms concerns the enormous rise in municipal development charges.

Municipal governments need revenue, but they do not want to anger existing homeowners by raising property taxes. So instead, they shift infrastructure costs onto new housing developments. The logic is obvious. Existing voters stay happy. Future homeowners pay the bill.

It is a neat trick, and it has been repeated often enough to become normal.

Of course, developers do not absorb these costs forever. They pass them on to buyers. So development charges that were once relatively modest have grown dramatically over the past two decades, adding tens of thousands and sometimes hundreds of thousands of dollars to the price of newly built homes.

The result is perverse. Policies sold as responsible municipal planning end up making homeownership harder for the very people trying to enter the market.

In other words, younger Canadians are paying twice. They pay through high housing prices and again through the financing mechanisms hidden inside those prices.

The Missing Middle

Another major theme in the conversation is Canada’s obsession with building either detached suburban homes or very small condominiums.

What has largely disappeared is what urban planners call the missing middle. Duplexes, triplexes, fourplexes, courtyard apartments, townhouses, and other family sized medium density housing have been squeezed out by zoning rules and planning habits that no longer serve the reality of modern cities.

These forms of housing once allowed neighbourhoods to grow gradually while remaining affordable. Today many municipalities continue to restrict them through rules inherited from another era, as though the car oriented suburbs of the mid 20th century should still dictate how a 21st century city must function.

The result is predictable. Developers either build luxury detached homes where land is available or maximize profit by producing tiny condominium units in expensive urban locations.

Families searching for modest three bedroom homes find very few choices.

Canada has become increasingly successful at producing housing units while becoming less successful at producing homes that ordinary families can actually use. Those are not the same thing.

Counting units tells us little if families cannot live in them.

What Housing Really Means

Perhaps the most affecting part of Stern’s interview is her own plain and deeply human wish.

She does not dream of luxury. She wants what previous generations often treated as ordinary. A stable home. A neighbourhood. Children attending the same school. Some freedom from the anxiety that a landlord may decide to sell and uproot the family.

That should not sound radical. Yet in today’s Canada, even basic stability can sound like a privilege.

Housing shapes far more than the real estate market. It shapes whether people marry, whether they have children, whether they stay in a city, whether they volunteer, whether they build roots, and whether they imagine a future at all.

A country that makes stable housing inaccessible is not just creating a housing problem. It is weakening its own social future.

A Fairness Crisis

The housing debate is usually framed as a contest between homeowners and renters, developers and environmentalists, cities and provinces, or supply advocates and affordability advocates.

Cara Stern’s conversation with Ron Butler suggests a better framework. The central question is fairness.

Can a young Canadian working full time reasonably expect to own a modest home. Can ordinary families remain in the cities where they grew up. Can children afford to live near their parents. Can essential workers afford to live where they work.

If the answer increasingly becomes no, then Canada faces more than a housing shortage. It faces a fairness crisis.

Fixing that will require more than adding units. It will require rebuilding a system that once allowed ordinary work to produce ordinary dreams.

Until that happens, Canada’s housing market will remain not only expensive, but fundamentally unfair.

Stunt Cannot Govern a Nation

Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

My heart goes out to the families who have lost loved ones and to all those who have been injured or left frightened by the recent violence. As someone who loves this motherland deeply, it is painful to watch our society go through such tense and uncertain days. In moments like this, the first duty of every responsible citizen is to mourn, to listen, and to hope for peace.

Even if this is not the time to blame others, it is still the time to reflect. If we truly care about Nepal, then we must stop pretending that slogans, public stunts, or social media energy are enough to govern a country. When crisis arrives, it is not style that matters. It is judgment, coordination, restraint, and trust.

This is where my concern begins. Many RSP supporters may want to read the recent violence as an old-party conspiracy to make the new force fail. I do not see it that way. The old parties, for all their corruption and failures, understand Nepal’s political reality far better than RSP does. They know the terrain, the actors, the fault lines, and the habits of our society. That does not make them good. But it does make them experienced. And experience matters when a country is under strain.

RSP entered politics with the promise of freshness and change. That was its strength. But governing a country is a different responsibility altogether. A party can rise on frustration, anger, and charisma. But it cannot govern on those alone. When violence broke out, the need was not for a stunt or a slogan. The need was for immediate contact, coordination, trust-building, and political maturity. That is why an all-party meeting became necessary. That is why leadership is tested not in victory speeches, but in moments of fear.

This is also where my earlier idea of The Richmen’s Club that Nepal Never Had becomes relevant. If some political leaders came into politics after earning money and success, then they should have brought with them seriousness, discipline, and a sense of public responsibility. They should have built a culture of competence, not just confidence. They should have understood that managing a country is harder than winning applause.

I say this with sadness, not arrogance. I do not want Nepal to fail in order to prove a point. I want Nepal to grow out of the habit of mistaking performance for leadership. A country cannot be governed by stunts. It cannot be protected by slogans alone. And it cannot survive repeated crises if its leaders are still learning the basics of political adulthood.

Even if this is not the time to blame others, it is certainly the time to learn from what has happened. Nepal needs leaders who can feel deeply, think clearly, and govern responsibly.