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Arnico Panday vs Ain Mahar: Same Law, Different Justice
Arnico Panday and Ain Mahar faced the same allegations, but one spent four days in custody while the other walked free. Uncover the reasons why, along with this week’s key Nepali and global updates.
Hello and Namaste from Nepal!
We’re thrilled to bring you our latest edition of Nepali Dias Express, your trusted weekly digest of what’s happening back home, why it matters, and how it connects to Nepalis living around the world.
Nepal Headlines
1. Arnico Panday Drama: Arrested Over WhatsApp & Email
RSP leader Arnico Panday got arrested for allegedly harassing a woman through WhatsApp and email. Yup, WhatsApp, because apparently even our politicians can’t resist turning DMs into court cases. Meanwhile, on the exact same day, another leader from a rival party was accused of something similar but walked free in hours. But Panday is still stuck. Moral of the story: in Nepali politics, your legal fate depends less on the law and more on who you know.
Scroll down for our deep-dive on this!
2. Pokhara to Australia? Finally, Some Action!
Guess what? You might soon be able to catch a direct flight from Pokhara to Australia! Sichuan Airlines wants to start this route by September. If this actually happens, Pokhara International Airport might finally be used for something other than photo ops and backdrops. The headlines are calling it a direct flight, but since it goes through Chengdu, how exactly is that “direct”? Guess we will have to wait for the official statement from CAAN.
3. Nepal’s Power Game: Exporting in Rainy Season, Begging in Winter
Nepal exported Rs 49B worth of electricity in the past four years. Sounds impressive, right? Well, we also imported Rs 65B. Basically, we’re like that friend who brags about their side hustle but still borrows money every weekend. During monsoon, we sell power to India and Bangladesh like we’re energy kings. Come winter? We’re back at India’s door, begging for a top-up.
4. Diaspora Money Flood: Rs 4.72B Every Day
Remittances hit Rs 1.72 trillion last year. That’s literally Nepal’s entire national budget for FY 2082/83. Every single day, Nepali Diaspora sends home Rs 4.72 billion. Without contribution at such scale, our economy would collapse faster than a Nepali road after one rain. On a serious note, though, most of that cash is sitting idle in banks instead of being used in productive sectors and creating jobs.
5. Oli’s Beijing Adventure: Playing With Fire (and Japan’s Patience)
PM KP Sharma Oli is all set to attend China’s big anti-Japan military parade. Yes, anti-Japan. Japan is literally one of Nepal’s biggest donors and home to a massive Nepali diaspora. So, awkward, right? It’s like showing up at your best friend’s enemy’s birthday party; loud, flashy, and guaranteed to end badly. But hey, Oli says it’s just “like attending India’s Independence Day.” Sure, if Independence Day included tanks, missiles, and passive-aggressively insulting your donor country.
Global Updates
1. India & Russian Oil: Besties Forever
So the US slapped a 50% tariff on Indian imports to make Modi stop buying Russian oil. Did India listen? Nope. Instead, they’re planning to increase its Russian oil imports in September by 10–20%. And why wouldn’t they? Russian oil is cheap and India desperately needs it. So now, the US is mad, Russia is happy, and India is still quite anxious.
2. Trump’s Visa Makeover: Students, Journalists, Everyone’s Screwed
The Trump administration has proposed significant changes to F-1 student visas, which could really shake things up for international students, including many from Nepal.
One big change is that new undergraduate students wouldn't be able to switch their major or program during their first year, unless there's a really good reason like a school closing. Also, once you finish a degree, you will not be able to come back on an F-1 visa for another program at the same or a lower level. So, no getting a second bachelor's or a diploma on the same visa.
They're also introducing a four-year cap on student visas, with only a 30-day grace period afterward. If you need more time, you'd have to apply for an extension, which means more paperwork, money, and stress.
And the most worrying part is the increased risk of overstaying. If your fixed admission period ends, you'd immediately start accruing "unlawful presence," and even a small delay could lead to a three- or ten-year ban from re-entering the US.
3. Coffee Tariffs: Your Morning Cup Just Got Political
Coffee in the US is about to cost more. Prices already jumped 14.5% last month, and now the US has slapped a 50% tariff on Brazilian coffee; aka the world’s main supplier. The problem is, you can’t exactly grow coffee beans in Ohio. (Hawaii and Puerto Rico together make less than 1% of US demand.) So unless someone finds a way to grow Arabica next to cornfields, Americans are about to pay extra just to stay awake at work. Starbucks says it’ll freeze prices for now, but what about small coffee shops? They’re left crying into their lattes.
Deep-Dive For This Week
Arnico Panday vs Ain Mahar: Same Law, Different Justice
On August 28, two politicians in Nepal found themselves in the same legal storm. Both faced accusations of online harassment and character assassination under the same law. Both were summoned by the Cyber Bureau. Both had complaints lodged by women alleging WhatsApp messages, emails, and defamatory online content.
Yet, by the end of the day, their stories split into two very different scripts.
Arnico Panday, the Harvard- and MIT-educated atmospheric scientist turned Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) leader, was remanded into four days of judicial custody.
Ain Mahar, a central committee member of the ruling CPN-UML, was released the same day after giving his statement.
Same charges. Same law. Two different outcomes.
And that, right there, is the story worth unpacking.
Who is Arnico Panday?
Arnico Panday isn’t your average Nepali politician. He studied at Harvard, Wisconsin, and MIT, worked as an atmospheric scientist, ran the Ullens Education Foundation, and briefly sat as an honorary member of the National Planning Commission.
In 2022, he joined the RSP, the upstart party founded by Rabi Lamichhane. Arnico was the “technocrat face” of a movement that promised to be different; more brainpower, less bickering.
Which is why his arrest; on charges of sending lewd and abusive WhatsApp and email messages, was such a jolt.
The case falls under Section 47 of the Electronic Transactions Act (2006), Nepal’s all-purpose cybercrime law. This section criminalizes any online content that violates “public morality,” spreads hatred, or defames others. Penalties include up to five years in jail or fines up to Rs 100,000.
In short: the very law is often criticized as too vague, too broad, and too easily abused.
Section 47: The Law That Does Everything (and Nothing)
On paper, Section 47 is Nepal’s digital watchdog. In practice, it’s a Swiss Army knife for prosecutors. It has been used against financial fraudsters, revenge porn distributors, meme creators, and even journalists posting snarky Facebook updates.
6,297 cybercrime cases were recorded in the last fiscal year alone, up from just 53 in 2016/17.
Facebook dominates as the platform of choice for such cases (4,730 incidents over four years), but WhatsApp, where Arnico allegedly sent his messages, accounted for 181 cases.
And the shocking thing is, between 2020 and 2025, 128 journalists were arrested under Section 47 for “anti-morality” posts.
Critics argue the law was meant to regulate online transactions, not police speech. But in Nepal, it has become the go-to tool to punish behavior ranging from genuine harassment to political criticism.
Which brings us back to Arnico.
Four Days in Custody
When the complaint against Panday landed at the Cyber Bureau, the police quickly secured a warrant. The Kathmandu District Court granted them four days of custody to “investigate further.”
For context: custody in cybercrime cases is usually short. Often, the accused is presented in court, gives a statement, and is either released on a general date or bailed out. The fact that Panday was kept for four days raised eyebrows.
What exactly needed four days to investigate? WhatsApp logs? Emails? Screenshots? the prolonged custody felt suspiciously heavy-handed.
The Ain Mahar Case: Déjà Vu, Different Ending
Here’s where the story gets spicy.
On the exact same day, the Cyber Bureau also arrested Ain Mahar, a UML central committee member, on nearly identical charges.
A woman named Rashmila Dhami accused him of character assassination, claiming Mahar and his family posted abusive videos and photos online targeting her, including a 51-minute video later deleted. She had also accused him of rape in the past, though police initially refused to register that complaint until the Patan High Court intervened.
The charges were under the same section; Section 47.
But the outcome was totally different. Mahar was released the same day after giving his statement.
One gets four days in custody. The other gets dinner at home.
Justice, or Just Politics?
The contrast couldn’t be sharper. And it forces us to ask: why the difference?
Was Arnico’s custody legally justified? Possibly; the law allows it. Was Mahar’s release legally possible? Also yes, as the law allows discretion.
But that’s exactly the problem. The discretion looks less like justice and more like selective enforcement.
Nepal’s cybercrime law, vague as it is, becomes a convenient tool not just for protecting victims but also for settling scores. If you’re in the wrong party at the wrong time, you might find yourself staring at four days of judicial custody. If you’re in the right party with the right connections, you might walk out the same afternoon.
As one lawyer quipped: “Section 47 isn’t about what you did, it’s about who you are.”
The RSP’s Bad Timing
For Panday, the timing couldn’t have been worse.
His party, the Rastriya Swatantra Party, is already drowning in scandal. Its founder, Rabi Lamichhane, is fighting accusations of embezzling millions from cooperatives, under the Cooperative Act and anti-money laundering laws. The party postponed its general convention, faced leadership infighting, and recently lost the Ilam-2 by-election.
Arnico’s arrest adds to the perception that RSP, once the darling of “new politics,” is now just another party bogged down by legal troubles and personal scandals.
Contrast that with Mahar’s UML, one of Nepal’s two largest parties with decades of entrenched networks in the judiciary, police, and bureaucracy. The political insulation is obvious.
The Gender Dimension
Both cases involved women alleging online harassment. And in Nepal, this isn’t rare. Nearly 45% of cybercrime cases target women, often through fake information, defamatory posts, or intimate content leaks.
The laws were written to protect women from precisely these abuses. And yet, enforcement often depends on political convenience.
So yes, Arnico’s alleged victim deserves justice. But so does Rashmila Dhami, who has faced years of harassment and whose complaints against Mahar have bounced between courts and police stations.
Selective enforcement risks making the law look less like a shield for women, and more like a sword wielded against political opponents.
The Bigger Democratic Problem
The Arnico vs Mahar contrast is about more than two men and two cases. It’s about the credibility of Nepal’s justice system.
If the same law produces radically different outcomes in the same bureau on the same day, what does that say about judicial independence?
It undermines trust in both directions:
Victims lose faith that the system will protect them.
Citizens lose faith that laws are applied equally.
Worse, when Section 47 is used to silence journalists one day, and inconsistently prosecute politicians the next, it begins to look less like a cybercrime law and more like a political weapon.
Reform, or Business as Usual?
Nepal has draft bills in the pipeline; an Information Technology Bill and a Cybercrime Bill, that could replace Section 47. Done right, they could bring clarity: define what counts as harassment, what counts as protected speech, and how long custody should reasonably last.
Done wrong, they could make the law even harsher and more prone to abuse.
What’s actually needed:
Specialized cybercrime courts to ensure consistent rulings.
Clearer legal definitions that distinguish free speech from harassment.
Procedural safeguards to prevent custody from being a political tool.
Because right now, the law seems to bend not to justice, but to power.
Closing Thoughts
Arnico Panday sits in custody for four days. Ain Mahar walks free within hours. Same law, same charges, same bureau. Different outcomes.
Maybe Arnico is guilty. Maybe Mahar is guilty. Maybe both are. But the unequal treatment tells us something more troubling: in Nepal, the justice system often decides cases not on the facts, but on the faces.
And if two politicians, with high profiles and media attention, can be treated so differently under the same law on the same day, imagine what happens to the average Nepali citizen with no connections, no party, and no press coverage.
That, more than WhatsApp messages or viral videos, is the real scandal.
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