“I have the blessings of the earth. I have received a share of my land. I did not inherit it. I earned it through blood and sweat. I have 11 Kattha of land that I call my own. 4 of which I use to dig out clay. And 7 I use to grow greens. Why do I dig out clay you might ask. I dig out clay to make water pots. Even before I had this land I used to collect clay from the foothills and make water pots. My father did it too and he taught me how to mould it, spin it, caress it and bring it to a shape to contain water. It is magic. Moulding clay is the most difficult work in this world. And back in the day, there were no bulbs to light, no batteries and no torches. Only kerosene lantern. And even before sunrise in the dim of night, I would make 6 waterpots. This was before anyone got up before the rooster crowed. It was difficult. You see, you need finesse in your hands. Not everyone can make waterpots.We would load the pots in our carrying pole and take to Gharahi. The journey was arduous. We had to sleep near the banks of the river. This one time, the wooden support broke but somehow I saved the pots. My father tied some branches to the wooden pole and temporarily fixed it so that I could carry it to the merchant. But the friction of the branches on my shoulder tore my flesh. I swallowed the pain, clenched my teeth and followed father’s steps, tears dropping down to the earth. 6 rupees apiece. That was all we would get for one pot. And there were only two merchants who would buy it. There is a reason we took it to Gharahi. It was not barter. We would receive cash. Other communities would bring in grains but we brought home cash. Father was a smart man you see. But the poor man died. 4 years ago. I do not know exactly what happened. He had to attend a ceremony with his sisters. I would have gone but I had mustard to throw in the fields so he went. Later in the night, we got a call from our relative that he was nowhere to be found. They said someone saw him entering the forest. We lost him. We went to the police and they said they were going to look for him. After 3 days I got the news that he had been found very far from where he was last seen. When we brought him home we asked him about his disappearance. He said that someone called him out from the forest and he just followed that voice. He said he was hungry and that he had not eaten anything. That is when I realised he had entered a different world. I realised his mind was lost. Not soon after that, he passed away. But the old man gave me the skills he had and even to this day I dig out clay and make pots. This earth has given me enough. I paid for my sister’s wedding. I bought land. I built a house, I kept my wife happy and I am sending my children to school. I pray to this earth. I bow my head. I have trained many to mould clay. In Baitadi’s Patan. In Salyan’s Salli Bazar. In Surkhet’s Birendra Chowk. In Rolpa’s Libang. In Pyuthan’s Ratamata and in Nuwakot’s Bidur.

I have the blessings of the earth. And now, through me, so many others have the blessing of the earth. The earth asked me to give. I obey the earth. I bow my head.”

#RightToEarnALivingStories of Nepal x ICCO Cooperation South Asia x European Union in Nepal