Nepal's flood survivors struggle for safe shelter as trafficking risks mount

A month after the glacier collapse that sent water and debris through Nepal's northern river valleys, Karishma Tamang is still looking for a place where she can sleep through the night without water dripping onto her face. She is 26, pregnant with her second child, and has spent the past weeks moving between shelters with her 4-year-old daughter. The August 26 flood killed roughly 1,450 people and left more than 5,500 unaccounted for. The reconstruction bill is estimated at $4.8 billion. For Karishma, the numbers are abstract. What matters is that her brother and his two children remain missing, and she is living in a tent that leaks when it rains.

In the first days after the disaster, she and hundreds of others were crowded into a covered hall at Bidur Municipality in Nuwakot District. There was no privacy, no separation between families, no space to breathe. She has since moved to a makeshift tent in the Barahachaur area, a small improvement that is still not enough. There is no proper toilet—only a small latrine set up nearby. When she needs to bathe or collect water, she must walk beyond the nearest tap. She does this in the open, among strangers and people she does not know. "It would be great to have a stable place to stay, where I could cook my own meals, feel safe and have some comfort," she told reporters.

Karishma is not alone in this struggle. Sabita Tamang, 24 years old, lost her 5-year-old daughter, nephew and niece in the same floods. She too is living in a makeshift tent in Barahachaur, and she too must bathe in open spaces. The discomfort is not merely about modesty. It is about vulnerability. Save the Children Nepal has raised alarms about what happens when women and girls are forced to use shared facilities with unrestricted access—when strangers can move freely through displacement camps at any hour. The organization warns that such conditions naturally increase the risk of harassment, exploitation, and trafficking.

The shelters themselves were built without planning. Many sit on the outskirts of towns with inadequate lighting at night. There are no separate washrooms. There are no private spaces. Ayush Joshi, director for advocacy at Save the Children Nepal, explained to reporters that the organization's concerns are based on qualitative assessments conducted with affected people, including women, children, and volunteers deployed in the flood zones. "Such situations naturally increase the risk of insecurity, potential harassment and exploitation, especially for young girls and children," he said. The organization's field assessment found that many children are experiencing mental health crises—becoming angry, frightened, crying loudly. Some are dropping out of school. Some are being pushed toward child marriage. Joshi noted that in the aftermath of the disaster, many children became separated from their families, and older siblings had to assume the role of caregiver. In such circumstances, protection systems collapse.

The Nepali government has acknowledged the risks. The Ministry of Women, Children, Gender and Sexual Minorities has increased monitoring and surveillance at displacement sites and is raising awareness about gender-based violence and trafficking. Officials have mobilized stakeholders to check entry and exit points to prevent trafficking and abuse. The government also took back at least 78 children from two Buddhist monasteries in Kathmandu and placed them in temporary camps. The monasteries had offered shelter, education, and employment, but the government discourages such informal arrangements. "We have strictly discouraged religious or charitable organizations from keeping children without following legal procedures," said Chakra Bahadur Budha, a spokesperson at the ministry. Children can be placed with close relatives—uncles, aunts—after verification, but adoption has been discouraged for now.

The scale of displacement is staggering. UNICEF reports that at least 541 children have either lost their parents or become separated from their families. Learning has been disrupted for more than 14,000 children across 62 schools and learning centers in the three most affected districts: Dhading, Nuwakot, and Rasuwa. Hundreds of families have managed to move into rented rooms, but hundreds more remain in temporary shelters and makeshift tents. For women like Karishma and Sabita, the immediate need is simple: a stable place to stay, a private space to bathe, a toilet that works, a roof that does not leak. What they face instead is a landscape of vulnerability, where the systems meant to protect them are still being assembled, and the risks of trafficking, abuse, and exploitation remain acute.