Climate change is part of the challenge, but decades of overlooking recharge areas have left many drinking water projects vulnerable. A policy shift toward nature-based infrastructure is now essential.
Over the last three decades, Nepal has made remarkable progress in the water supply sector. Water supply projects have been built in thousands of hilly settlements. Constructed through foreign loans, development partners, and heavy government investment, these projects have brought running water to the doorsteps of millions of citizens. For many communities that once had to walk hours daily to fetch water, these projects have become a vital foundation for improving their quality of life. This achievement deserves recognition.
Yet, within this success lies a serious question. Why do so many water supply projects begin facing water scarcity just a few years after completion? Why must many projects seek new water sources? Why are projects that naturally operate on gravity-fed systems from higher elevations now forced to shift toward river-pumping lifting systems or deep boring?
To find answers to these questions, we often point fingers at climate change. Certainly, climate change is causing extreme weather events to rise. Rainfall patterns have shifted, rain intensity has increased, and prolonged drought periods are becoming more common. But can today’s water crisis be blamed entirely on climate change? Probably not. The issue lies not just with the changing weather, but also with the development model we have adopted.
Saving the intake, forgetting the spring
In water supply projects, the term ‘source conservation’ (muhan sanrakshan) is widely used. In practice, however, what we conserve is usually just the specific site where the ‘intake’ (the structure designed to collect water from the source) is built. We try to protect the spot where water is collected, but we fail to integrate the natural system that generates that water into the core design of the project.
Here, it is essential to understand the difference between Muhan (the intake point) and Mool (the spring source). The intake point is merely where water is collected. The spring source, however, is the entire natural system that generates that water. It is this natural process—where rainwater seeps into the ground, gets stored through forests, soil, rocks, ponds, wetlands, and recharge areas, and slowly emerges as a spring—that breathes life into the water supply system. If this system weakens, building a new intake will not increase the water. Laying more pipes will not make the taps run. Building larger tanks will not make the source sustainable. Unfortunately, most of our water supply projects have been built while ignoring this basic scientific reality.
Shared lessons from Sindhuli and Syangja
Regional studies, dialogues with local communities, and observations of water supply systems in Sunkoshi Rural Municipality and Kamalamai Municipality of Sindhuli, as well as Waling and Galyang Municipalities of Syangja, revealed a common picture.
Many projects are technically well-constructed. Intakes, reservoir tanks, distribution pipelines, and household taps are well-organized. However, a review of the Detailed Project Reports (DPRs) reveals a glaring weakness: most projects have not integrated the identification, protection, and management of the water-generating springs and their recharge areas as a mandatory component of project design.
Building larger tanks will not make the source sustainable. Unfortunately, most of our water supply projects have been built while ignoring this basic scientific reality.
The consequences of this are now gradually becoming visible. Small springs that once flowed year-round have now become seasonal. The flow of several sources has significantly decreased. Many projects have begun searching for additional sources. In some places, they are forced to pump water from rivers, which has increased electricity costs, operational expenses, and management complexities. This situation is not unique to Sindhuli or Syangja; many districts across the mid-hills are starting to share similar experiences.
The problem is not infrastructure, but hydrological understanding
In Nepal, water supply projects have developed primarily as engineering ventures. Detailed calculations are made for pipe diameters, intake designs, tank capacities, distribution networks, and projected water demand. Yet, one fundamental question has still not made it to the center of project planning: What is the state of the natural system that sustains the spring on which this project depends?
Engineering structures can transport water, but they cannot produce it. Pipes can distribute water, but they cannot generate it. Water generation is the job of forests, soil, recharge zones, wetlands, traditional ponds, and healthy ecosystems. However, most of our investment remained focused on concrete, pipes, and structures. Nature-based infrastructure was not considered an essential part of the project cost. As a result, we expanded the water distribution system while the water production system gradually weakened.
The big lesson we have yet to learn
Nepal has learned a lot in the water supply sector. Knowledge and experience in building gravity-fed systems, extending pipelines, and delivering water to individual households have grown remarkably.
But one lesson remains to be learned. The lifespan of the water flowing from a tap is determined not by the pipe, but by the spring source. If the source weakens, the project will gradually falter as well. Therefore, the time has come to measure the success of water supply projects not just by the number of households connected to taps, but also by how well the sustaining spring source has been protected.
New trends, new risks
As springs dry up, many projects have taken an alternative path. Instead of relying on nearby springs, they drill deep tube wells or construct swamp wells along riverbanks or stream beds, pumping water 500 to 1,200 meters uphill to a reservoir tank at the top of the hill to distribute it from there. While this ensures more water in the long run, its cost is equally heavy.
If a pump breaks down, power outages occur, or landslides and floods hit the steep slopes carrying the pipeline, the entire supply halts instantly.
Such disruptions have been known to last from several days to a month. Communities that previously enjoyed autonomous access to water by relying on nearby springs are now entirely dependent on a single pump, a single power line, and a single long pipeline.
Thus, river-lifting systems are not inherently bad. However, switching to such systems while completely abandoning nearby springs is not risk management; it is adding risk. Keeping active springs protected as alternative and emergency sources is no longer a luxury—it is a prerequisite for supply security. This reality highlights the pressing need for changes in our investment and policy.
The need for investment to protect springs
If we continue with our current development practices, in the next decade, many water supply projects in the mid-hills will fall into a vicious cycle of skyrocketing operational costs, the constant search for new sources, and declining water availability. Climate change will only worsen this challenge. Therefore, the question is no longer whether to build new projects, but how to build them with a fresh perspective.
For this, the first shift must occur in the policy and principles of project construction. Until now, we have viewed water supply schemes purely as projects to lay pipes, and build intakes, reservoir tanks, and taps. The time has come to redefine them as holistic water management projects linked to the conservation of the natural water-generating systems. Just as a project is unimaginable without pipes, it cannot be sustainable without protected recharge areas.
Three policy reforms are urgently needed to drive this change.
First, at least five percent of the total cost of every new water supply project must be mandatorily allocated to the conservation and recharge of water catchment areas. This budget can be spent on forest conservation, restoring/protecting traditional ponds and wetlands, structures to harvest and channel rainwater into the ground, soil erosion control, bio-engineering for slope management, and restoring the land that feeds the springs.
This is not an extra expense; it is the long-term security of the project and the protection of the investment. If we can spend millions of rupees to purchase pipes, why not make a minimal investment in the nature that generates the water flowing through them?
Second, another five percent of the project budget should be allocated for social inclusion. Taps have reached many places, but not all households benefit equally. Economically vulnerable families lack storage tanks, rainwater harvesting structures, and sometimes, even basic infrastructure for the safe use of water despite having a tap connection. Therefore, water supply projects must not just be tap-fitting schemes, but social initiatives that guarantee equitable access to water.
Third, all operational water supply projects must allocate at least two to five percent of their annual operations and maintenance (O&M) budget to the protection of springs and their recharge areas. Currently, operational expenses focus mainly on pipe repairs, leak control, and structural maintenance. While these are necessary, repairing pipes alone will not sustain the system if the spring itself weakens. Therefore, investing a portion of operational costs into conserving the natural water production system is no longer an option—it is a necessity.
The new responsibility of local governments
Following the federal transition, local governments have become the most crucial entities for water resource management. Therefore, leadership for this change must start at the local level.
Every local government must map the water sources within its territory. Which springs are safe? Which are at risk? Where is the water recharge capacity declining? Where are road construction, unregulated excavation, or unplanned settlements affecting the water production systems? Without answers to these questions, sustainable water planning is impossible.
Similarly, the Detailed Project Report (DPR) of every water supply scheme formulated from now on must mandatorily include a map of the recharge area and a conservation plan alongside the pipeline map. Even after project completion, a mechanism for regular monitoring and protection of the spring source must be developed through partnerships among local governments, water user committees, and forest user groups.
A new measure of development
Until now, we have measured success in the water sector by the number of households connected to taps. This is no longer enough. We must now ask another question: will the same amount of water still be flowing from that spring in 10 or 20 years? Only if the answer is yes can the project be considered successful. This is because the true test of water supply infrastructure is not on the day of its inauguration, but on whether the spring remains alive decades later.
Nepal has achieved remarkable feats in building water supply infrastructure. The time has come to enter the next phase: planned investment in the natural water-generating systems alongside the distribution structures. We have learned a lot about building taps; now, we must learn to protect the springs. If every new project begins investing in its recharge area as a core part of its infrastructure, if active projects make spring conservation a regular responsibility, and if local governments place the natural water-generating system at the center of their development plans, then many currently endangered springs can be revived. This will extend the lifespan of water projects, reduce operational costs, strengthen resilience to climate change, and protect billions of rupees in public investment.
(Dahal, who holds a PhD on the prospects and applications of biochar in Nepal, works as a hydrometeorologist at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation.)