Digital Nepal - but only in name
(This story is not fictional; it reflects my personal experience. As a computer engineer with a decade of experience in the digital field, the phrase "Digital Nepal" has been irritating me in recent times. Though this experience is mine, I know many others share similar struggles. People like me—those who have sought higher education or employment abroad—are represented by this story. Until the mindset changes from simply putting forms online and making people to go to room number 6, Digital Nepal will remain a distant dream. Until then, stories like mine, and the migration of thousands of citizens abroad, will continue.)
In Ashoj 2079 BS, a person who successfully passed the driving license test goes to the Transport Office two years later, in Ashoj 2081 BS, only to be met with an irritated response from the staff: "Do you think licenses are printed this quickly?" However, if the same person delays paying the vehicle tax by just two months, they are immediately fined by traffic police. This contrast highlights the absurdity of a system where it takes over two years to issue a driving license, while a two-month delay in paying the vehicle tax results in a swift penalty.
After two years of waiting, the person finally realizes that the hassle he faced when applying for his driving license was just the beginning. Reflecting on the process, he recalls how, despite knowing the form was available online, he ended up paying an extra fee at a shop near the Transport Office just to get it filled out, thanks to persistent server issues. With these frustrations lingering in his mind, he silently leaves the Transport Office and heads back home.
Meanwhile, this same person, who completed his undergraduate studies at a college affiliated with Tribhuvan University—the oldest and largest university in the country—needs a migration certificate for higher studies. With the required documents in hand, he heads to the Examination Department of Tribhuvan University, located in Balkhu.
Before going there, he had heard on the news that the migration certificate could now be obtained online. However, after multiple unsuccessful attempts to find it online, he ended up going to Balkhu in person. There, he is instructed to deposit the required fees at the bank and fill out the migration form. After completing and submitting everything, a staff member bluntly tells him, "Your Tribhuvan University registration number doesn’t match. You’ll need to reissue all your bachelor’s certificates—marksheet, original, and character certificate."
Hearing that Tribhuvan University now claims his certificates—stamped and issued by them eight years ago—are incorrect leaves him astonished. When he’s told by the staff that he’ll need to pay the fees again and reissue all his certificates, his frustration rises. To him, this is like a District Administration Office saying, “The citizenship number from eight years ago is incorrect; you’ll need a new citizenship.” He realizes he has already used those certificates in many places over the years, so he has no intention of reissuing them and updating everywhere. Deciding to forego the migration certificate entirely, he leaves the Tribhuvan University office without saying a word and heads home.
A few days later, the person receives a visa to study abroad. As we all know, a No Objection Letter (NOC) is required for foreign studies. He learns that he can apply for this letter online, so he submits his application digitally. However, despite uploading all the required documents, his application is rejected within two to three days. Frustrated as a citizen of "Digital Nepal," he goes to the office in person. At the inquiry desk, he explains his issue. The staff, taken aback, responds with, “Oh, is that so!” After a brief pause, they say, “It’s sorted now. Please print your application and proceed to Room No. 6.”
He goes to Room No. 6 and collects his No Objection Letter. From there, he returns home with a sense of pride. After experiencing a nation that spends millions on digital services but ends up causing frustration for its citizens, he can't help but feel grateful to himself for making the right decision to go abroad for higher education.
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The purpose of a digital system is to provide users with services in a simple and convenient manner. If a digital system, built with millions in investment, fails to meet the needs of its users, it holds no value. Simply having people fill out a form online doesn’t make a system digital. We say we’ve created a digital system, yet we’re still compelled to pay fees at a nearby shop to submit an application for a driver’s license. Even though it’s been almost three years since I passed the driving test, we’re still using a “digital” system that has been unable to print the license.
One can fill out a form online, but to get it approved, they still have to visit the concerned office. Despite attaching all the required details and documents, we still need to go to the office for approval. Tribhuvan University, one of the nation’s largest and most respected institutions, refuses to validate its own issued certificates after eight years and instructs us to get new ones. If the digital system had been efficient, cases of incorrect registration numbers on certificates would not arise.
Today, we hold various events and conferences in the name of digitalization. We even talk at these gatherings about how Nepal exports millions worth of IT services abroad each year. While we may indeed be exporting services, there is no emphasis on improving the quality, usability, and security of our own government websites and systems. We frequently hear about government systems and websites being hacked. There’s no regular monitoring, nor is there any evaluation of their usefulness.
A website is made, forms are filled out online, but after that, one has to visit the office, meet with a technician, get the form approved, and then take the printout to room number 6. This isn’t the case with just one office; it’s the same scenario at almost any government office. The transport office, the Tribhuvan University examination branch, and several other offices are places where I’ve personally faced this hassle recently. Offices like the Land Revenue Office, municipalities, and other government offices are also not free from these issues.
We’re all well aware of the serious situation of skilled workers leaving for foreign employment. This problem is equally prevalent in the technology and IT sectors. To make digital services more efficient and accessible to users, it’s necessary to prevent the migration of skilled IT workers abroad. What we need is not office staff who merely approve online applications, but skilled technicians capable of creating systems that can approve or reject applications online without human intervention.
We have become “digital” in name only. Though mobile phones and the internet have reached the hands of ordinary people, as well as government offices, the unfortunate truth is that their effectiveness and impact remain confined to words alone.
Until the mindset changes that “putting an online form and then asking people to print it and go to room number 6” is sufficient for a digital Nepal, the flow of thousands of people like me leaving the country will not cease.
