Not a Moment of Joy, But of Deep Regret

On the 23rd anniversary, we raise not a toast of celebration—but a voice of pain and protest.
The FM radio industry, which stood at the forefront of Nepal’s political transformation, has yet to secure its rightful identity.

Political leadership never acknowledged those who carried the national flag—only those who waved party flags. The state never tried to become a guardian of FM radio; it merely acted as a license vendor.

An industry devoted to informing and enlightening the public was treated as a source of revenue—exploited through renewal fees, royalties, income tax, VAT, and rental taxes. In three decades, the state failed to craft a single policy or law that could define FM radio’s identity.

In the name of republicanism, not only the people but communication entrepreneurs were divided into factions. Political ideology seeped into newsrooms, sowing discord among employees. Under the guise of technological advancement, billions flowed into foreign digital platforms—while the state watched silently, even participated.

Billions were lost to corruption in the name of government advertising. Private media associations were politically sabotaged and left fractured.

Today, the FM industry stands in ruins. Station owners are on the brink of collapse. Radios that once employed hundreds are now cutting staff, forced into unemployment.

Nepali FM radio is gasping for breath, searching for solidarity from its listeners. This industry appeals to the public:
Do not chase speed—believe in truth.