"Gridlock for the Many, EVs for the Few: Why Kathmandu Needs Buses, Not Teslas" by Saugat Sapkota

Every morning, as Sunita Gurung steps out of her home in Baneshwor, she braces herself. The roar of engines, the haze of exhaust, the claustrophobic gridlock—Kathmandu’s streets are a battleground. For Sunita, a schoolteacher, and millions like her, commuting is a daily ordeal. The air stings her eyes, and the 5-kilometer journey to work can take an hour. She rides a microbus jammed with students, shopkeepers, and street vendors—elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder, breath to breath. There’s no air conditioning, barely a functioning window, and never a guarantee the bus will come on time. When she finally returns home, exhausted and late, the power cuts begin. No lights. No fan. No rest.

The city chokes on itself—and her people suffer.

The Problem Is Not Just the Cars. It’s the System They Symbolize.

The numbers don’t lie. Vehicular emissions now account for over 28% of Kathmandu’s air pollution, contributing to respiratory illnesses, reduced life expectancy, and unbearable daily commutes. According to the Department of Transport Management, the number of registered vehicles in Nepal grows by nearly 10% every year, with Kathmandu absorbing most of this surge. But what’s often missed in these figures is who these vehicles serve. Fewer than 4% of Nepalis own a private car. The majority rely on a fragile patchwork of outdated microbuses, sputtering tempos, and overcrowded motorbikes.

At the same time, the government pours public funds into electric vehicle (EV) subsidies, an effort marketed as sustainable and forward-thinking. But in truth, these subsidies have become an expensive misfire. Most EV buyers belong to the city’s upper crust, and many of the vehicles being imported are luxury brands. A Tesla Model 3 now qualifies for customs exemptions, while public buses sit unrepaired and unexpanded. Nepal levies up to a 300% tax on imported vehicles, yet luxury EVs often costing millions of rupees slip through untaxed under the guise of green policy.

The result? The traffic remains. The congestion remains. The pollution is simply transferred from the tailpipe to the power plant. Meanwhile, the grid groans under the strain. Kathmandu already experiences chronic load shedding in the dry season. Hospitals run generators. Students study by candlelight. And now, the same grid must also charge cars?

It’s Time to Ask: Who Are We Really Helping?

This is not an anti-EV stance. It is a demand for priorities. If we claim to be fighting climate change and urban decay, why are our tax rupees subsidizing the lifestyles of the few at the cost of the many?

For every rupee spent reducing emissions from a luxury electric car, ten could be used to fund a clean, reliable, and accessible public transit network. Instead, we’re rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship. In the name of progress, we’ve created a two-tiered mobility system where the wealthy glide silently in air-conditioned EVs, while the working class, students, and elderly ride polluting, unpredictable minibuses.

Before we chase the shiny future of EVs, we need to fix what’s already broken.

A 4-Part Plan to Break the Gridlock and Clear the Air

The first part of this plan is for Kathmandu to immediately shift its government subsidies away from private EVs and into a fleet of electric public buses. Rather than spending millions in subsidies to promote private electric vehicle adoption, we should invest those funds into modernizing and expanding our public transportation system.

Unlike EVs, which cater to individuals, public transit serves the masses. Consider this: a single electric bus can replace 30-50 private cars. Just 500 such buses could remove 20,000 cars from the road, cutting emissions and reducing gridlock. This is not just environmental reform; it is economic justice.

Consider the success of Shenzhen, China; the first city to fully electrify its bus fleet. Their air quality improved drastically within years. Kathmandu may be smaller, but the principle stands: mass transport electrification offers high impact per rupee spent, reaching students, elderly commuters, and low-income workers

Redirecting subsidies to public transit also avoids overloading Nepal’s fragile electric grid. Unlike private charging at night, buses can be charged at off-peak hours at centralized stations, making them easier to manage and integrate.

The second part is to build and enforce dedicated bus lanes. No transit system can thrive if its buses crawl at the speed of foot traffic. Right now, a bus in Kathmandu sits in the same traffic jam as a single-passenger SUV. This is madness.

Cities like Bogotá and Jakarta have proven that even without a metro system, bus rapid transit (BRT) can move millions daily, if buses are given space to move. Bogotá’s TransMilenio bus system, launched in 2000, now serves two million daily riders, cutting travel times and emissions by a third.

Dedicated bus lanes cost little to implement, for starters just paint and enforcement, but bring massive benefits. A pilot program in Kathmandu could start with just the ring road surrounding the city, removing street vendors and parked vehicles, and installing simple barricades and transit priority lights. With clear right-of-way, buses will move faster, draw more riders, and ultimately get more cars off the road. These aren’t futuristic pipe dreams; they’re proven, scalable solutions.

Third, create a centralized public transport authority that uses real-time GPS tracking and mobile integration. Today’s public transportation in Kathmandu operates like a black hole: buses appear when they want, routes and fares change without notice, and nobody is accountable. Riders shouldn’t have to guess when the next bus will arrive.

We need to modernize the rider experience, and that starts with a centralized Kathmandu Transit Authority (KTA) that manages routes, frequencies, and standards. Cities like Seoul, Kigali, and even Kathmandu’s neighbor Delhi have adopted real-time tracking apps that show bus arrivals down to the second.

A GPS-backed app integrated with any map provider, or a custom Nepali platform would let riders plan journeys, see delays, and rate services. It would also give the city critical data: which routes are overburdened, which ones are underused, where gaps exist. Combine this tech with clear printed timetables at major stops, and suddenly public transport becomes predictable, usable, and trustworthy—a viable alternative to private cars.

And finally, and arguably the most difficult, part of this plan is to break the transport syndicates. Kathmandu’s chaotic and inefficient public transit system isn’t accidental: it’s the product of a powerful transport mafia. Private syndicates have captured control of the city’s bus routes, blocking competition, resisting reform, and turning mobility into a hostage situation. A $30 million Asian Development Bank-backed plan meant to modernize the system sits untouched, stalled by syndicate protests and political collusion. As Kanak Dixit, chairman of Sajha Yatayat, warned, “This sector has so much cash liquidity that they are able to influence any politician, and they get their way.”

The result is a system where over 10,000 poorly maintained buses clog the streets while the city chokes. Government bans on aging vehicles are widely ignored: of the 2,500 buses that violate new emissions rules, only five have been removed. Why?

Because route licenses are issued only on the recommendation of the very associations they’re meant to regulate. These groups have used “donations” to shield themselves from accountability and dismiss modernization efforts as “bullying small investors.” Breaking this grip requires direct intervention. The government must strip syndicates of their route monopoly, empower cooperatives like Sajha with priority access to high-traffic corridors and provide a democratic control over a public service.

Buses. Dedicated lanes. Regular schedules. Smart routing. Affordable fares. We need an integrated transit network that can move the most people, reduce the most emissions, and serve the widest demographic, especially those who cannot afford any kind of private vehicle, electric or not. Unlike EVs, which cater to individuals, public transit serves the masses.

This is not an anti-EV stance. It is a pro-equity, pro-efficiency argument. It is about triaging limited resources toward maximum impact. A modern bus system reduces vehicle numbers on the road, cuts air pollution at its source, and eases the strain on our collapsing electric grid. It is also faster to implement than full EV integration, and far more inclusive.

Anticipated Objections and Responses

Some will argue that electric vehicles represent the future, and they’re not wrong. But that future demands infrastructure we do not yet have: reliable power, robust roads, widespread charging stations. Pouring money into EVs today without laying that groundwork is like installing solar panels on a house without a roof.

Some will say we can do both: build up public transit and support EVs at the same time. But Nepal does not have that luxury. Our budget is finite, our grid fragile, our roads overcrowded. Policy demands hard choices, and right now, we must choose the strategy that serves the most people, most equitably, most urgently.

And yes, EVs reduce tailpipe emissions, but they don’t reduce the number of vehicles. They don’t ease congestion. They still take up space, contribute to accidents, and trap us in the same inefficient urban patterns. What we need is fewer cars, not cleaner ones.

Today, Nepal’s grid relies on imported electricity. As energy expert Dr. Samundra Gurung notes, “With the current trend of EVs, a large number of lines and transformers will be overloaded in the future under all scenarios.” Furthermore, studies corroborate this, indicating that even moderate EV adoption could lead to significant line and transformer overloads, as well as undervoltage issues in feeders nationwide. Until we fix our energy infrastructure, EVs will add on to the ever-increasing list of problems.

Implementing these policies isn’t easy, and time and again we have gotten the same excuse, public transit is just too expensive. Truth is, congestion already costs Nepal millions of Rupees in lost productivity and fuel waste. Examples worldwide have shown a modern bus system would pay for itself. The existing bus and cab mafias, funded by their own greed and the politicians they keep in power, refuse to upgrade their vehicles, and still increase prices year-round. A well-funded mass transit system would break up these syndicates and use greener vehicles.

Another common argument is that EV subsidies were introduced as an equitable policy to support the middle class, and they might be right, if we actually had one. In reality, less than 3.2% of Nepalis own any kind of car, electric or not. The benefits of EV tax breaks overwhelmingly flow to the wealthy. Meanwhile, over 70% of Kathmandu rides packed, unreliable, and outrageously expensive buses. Calling this equity—while subsidizing Teslas for the few and leaving students to choke on fumes—is not just misleading, it’s unjust.

Kathmandu does not need more silent traffic jams, it needs movement. With political courage and smart investment, we can trade chaos for coordination, fumes for fresh air, and a broken system for one that works for everyone. The road to progress isn’t paved with more cars. It’s built on buses, bold policy, and belief in the public good.

Kathmandu is choking. Quite literally. The smog is not a metaphor, it is particulate matter that invades our lungs, shortens our lives, and clouds our future.

Let’s be clear-eyed about progress: it’s not Teslas for the few while the city coughs and the grid buckles. EVs strain a power system already flickering with outages. Meanwhile, students ride jam-packed microbuses and neighborhoods go dark.

Shift the money. Fund the buses. Build the lanes. Modernize the system.

This is a call to policymakers, planners, and the public: Shift EV subsidies to public transport. Start with buses. Scale what works. Power what matters. Demand better. The air we breathe and the roads we share are not luxuries. Kathmandu doesn’t need more electric cars. It needs fewer cars, better transit, and power that stays on. If we want to move forward, we need to move together and keep the lights on while we do.

The privileged will complain. The syndicates will fight back. But change is overdue. A clean, fair, and reliable transit system is not a dream— it’s a necessity. The people of Kathmandu are already paying the price for policy failure with their time, their health, and their future. It’s time our investments reflected that reality. Luxury EVs won’t solve a problem they barely touch, let’s stop pretending they will.

As Sunita Gurung puts it: “I don’t need a tax break on a car I can’t dream to afford. I need a bus that arrives on time.” Let’s build that future.