KATHMANDU: Nepal’s farmers are engaged in a battle—not against nature’s unpredictability, but against a far more persistent adversary: monkeys. From the hilly districts of Kaski and Dhankuta to the farmlands of Palpa and Makwanpur, the marauding primates have become an existential threat to livelihoods, consuming crops, terrorizing villages, and driving many to the brink of despair. While local governments and national politicians make periodic pledges to address the problem, meaningful action remains elusive.

Monkeys have reportedly attacked schoolchildren, snatched goats, and even caused farmer deaths in incidents where they were being chased away. Fear of monkey attacks now looms over many communities, with no clear solution in sight. During the last election, candidates across multiple constituencies pledged to tackle the issue, recognizing its devastating impact on voters. Yet, despite campaign promises, little has changed. Efforts to control the monkey population—ranging from sterilization programs to relocation attempts—have largely failed. Presently, there appears to be no viable alternative to curb the growing crisis.

Monday, Congress MP Rajendra Bajgain presented a motion of urgent public importance, calling for immediate government intervention to control the unchecked destruction caused by monkeys and wild boars. “The destruction of crops by these animals has threatened the security of farmers in Nepal’s rural areas,” Bajgain stated. “To ensure long-term solutions, agricultural security, wildlife management, and environmental balance, policy formulation and implementation are essential.”

Congress House of Representatives member Uday Shamsher Rana echoed Bajgain’s concerns, warning that entire families have been forced to abandon their villages due to these relentless attacks on their livelihoods. The damage is widespread, affecting districts from the far east to the western Tarai and hilly regions. Troops of monkeys invade fields at dawn and remain until dusk, decimating maize, soybeans, millet, and seasonal vegetables. Farmers who take out loans for their crops are left in financial ruin as their produce is destroyed before it can be harvested.

A Crisis in the Making

Nepal is home to three species of monkeys: the rhesus macaque, the Assamese macaque, and the Hanuman langur. However, it is the rhesus macaque—an intelligent and highly adaptive species—that has become the primary source of conflict. Unlike its arboreal cousins, the rhesus macaque thrives in human settlements, where easy access to food and a lack of natural predators have enabled their numbers to surge.

Despite growing complaints from rural communities, Nepal lacks comprehensive data on its monkey population, making it difficult to gauge the extent of the crisis. There are no reliable nationwide surveys, and without proper population tracking, formulating a long-term management strategy remains an uphill battle. Farmers, however, need no statistics to confirm what they already know: their crops, and by extension their way of life, are under siege.

The Farmers’ Plight

For many rural families, agriculture is their sole means of survival. Yet, securing a good harvest has become a near-impossible task. Farmers spend sleepless nights patrolling their fields, fearful that a single foraging troop of monkeys will destroy months of hard work.

In the early stages of crop growth, the primary concern is the uprooting of young plants. As the crops mature, the worry shifts to large-scale consumption and wastage. Corn, rice, soybeans, and seasonal vegetables—staples of Nepal’s agricultural economy—are regularly ravaged. Those who take loans to plant their fields often find themselves trapped in a vicious cycle of debt, unable to recoup losses from monkey raids.

Farmers have resorted to rudimentary deterrents—scarecrows, tin sheets, and loud noises—but these tactics rarely provide lasting relief. More extreme measures, such as electric fencing, remain financially out of reach for most. In some areas, frustrated farmers have abandoned cultivation altogether, leaving once-fertile lands barren.

Political Promises, Limited Action

Recognizing the scale of the problem, politicians have started to leverage the monkey menace as an electoral issue. During Nepal’s last general elections, a significant number of candidates across 293 municipalities included monkey control in their campaign manifestos, promising solutions to distressed voters. Yet, the problem persists.

While some local governments have experimented with sterilization programs, such efforts have been sporadic and largely ineffective. Attempts to relocate monkeys from agricultural areas to forests have failed due to the species’ ability to adapt and return to human settlements. With no clear national policy in place, rural communities are left to fend for themselves.

Bajgain’s motion has reignited the debate, but whether it leads to concrete action remains uncertain. While parliamentary discussions on economic and security matters dominate headlines, Nepal’s farmers fight a daily war—one they are losing. As the government deliberates its next move, rural communities brace for yet another season of raids, where the line between survival and despair grows thinner by the day.

A Nationwide Concern

Although the crisis is often framed as a rural issue, its impact extends far beyond the countryside. Agricultural disruptions contribute to inflation and food insecurity, while the displacement of farming families creates economic and social pressures in urban centers. Reports of monkey-related injuries, particularly among children and elderly citizens, have also been rising. In extreme cases, farmers attempting to drive away the primates have been fatally injured.

Despite the mounting challenges, Nepal remains without a clear strategy to mitigate human-monkey conflict. Conservationists emphasize the importance of balancing wildlife protection with human safety, advocating for scientifically backed solutions such as habitat restoration and controlled population management. Until then, the country’s farmers will continue their fight—armed not with policy support or modern deterrents, but with sticks, stones, and an ever-dwindling hope for respite.