Walk through any busy street or scroll social media for five minutes, the vibe has clearly shifted. As the March 5, 2026, election approaches, politics in Nepal doesn't feel like one-sided speeches, but a cultural movement. Youths are not just listening, they are organising, debating, and speaking up. This election represents a generational handover, a mix of new-age charisma and traditional longing. A new generation is finally demanding a seat at the table where national decisions are made. The faces are fresh, the tone is bold, but beneath that shine, familiarity remains. In Nepal, hope has become our primary political currency. Election manifestos, or ghosanapatra, have historically functioned like mobile recharge cards, useful during campaigns, but essentially a waste after. The issue isn't merely that these documents are published late, but that campaigns rarely centre on them. Instead, the message often revolves around visible leadership and emotion, while policy documents remain in the background. This makes voters ask: Are we choosing leaders based on hope simply because manifestos have failed us? Or are the 2026 promises still too disconnected from Nepal's capacity to deliver? If campaigns are not centred on policy, what, exactly, are we voting for? This election grew out of years of frustration. It is a shared anchor for young voters and experienced observers alike, representing a belief that speaking up might shift the country's direction. Yet, the average Nepali is not asking for a dramatic revolution. They want something much simpler: Predictability. They want roads that don't wash away with the monsoon, hospitals and schools that don't push families into debt, and jobs that do not require a one-way ticket to the Gulf. When we look back at the 2022 elections, job promises were ambitious: UML (500,000 annually), Nepali Congress (250,000), and Maoist Centre (200,000 jobs). There were also commitments to raise minimum wages to Rs.25000 per month. Reality tells it differently. Minimum wage in Nepal has increased steadily to Rs 13,450 (2018), Rs15,000 (2021), Rs 17,300 (2023) and Rs 19,550 (2025), through tripartite agreement. With long-term economic growth averaging 4.35 per cent from 1993 to 2024, sudden wage jumps and double-digit targets do not align with economic reality. While these promises were being made, labour migration hit record highs. In FY 2024-25, labour permits exceeded 830,000. This is a structural deficiency. Remittances now make up around 28 per cent of our GDP, but that money flows back out to pay for imports. Without a 'Make in Nepal' strategy rooted in productivity rather than nationalist slogans, we remain trapped in the cycle of exporting workers and using their remittances to import goods that we could produce ourselves. Today, campaign focus has shifted further toward 'personality over policy'. Emotional appeal dominates the message telling us 'we are new, honest and different'. What is often missing is the 'how'. When image and identity are primary products, the personalities themselves become the 'development plan'. While this feels fresh because these leaders are often visible and active, the pattern might be old. In the past, it was party-loyalty; today, it is digital reach. The platform has changed, but personality-driven politics continue. This is not a critique of the individuals, many of whom bring genuine passion, but a reminder to us voters that a viral clip is not a substitute for a fiscal policy. And since these leaders are popular largely because they have acted in visible ways, this feeds the cycle of hope once again. To be fair, 2026 manifestos show signs of improvement:

• UML talks more about production, digital systems, environment, and implementation-focused planning.
• RSP, backed by economists like Swarnim Wagle, Arnico Pandey, and Sobita Gauta, focuses on governance reform, infrastructure, private-sector friendly laws, aiming for a middle-income status.
• Maoists focus on marginalised groups and guaranteed employment.
• JSPN releases a 27-point manifesto centered on constitutional reform and inclusion, etcetera.

But, with Nepal's 16th development plan targeting 7.3 per cent growth, the risk remains that these targets stay on paper. The 'what' has improved, but the 'how' still lacks depth. The urgency of this election rises with Nepal's scheduled graduation from Least Developed Country (LDC) status in November 2026. While this is a proud milestone, it's a risky one. Graduation means losing special trade benefits and low tariffs in international markets. We will have to compete more strongly in exports without training wheels. Without strong industrial policy, graduation could widen the trade deficit. The World Bank estimates we need around 6.5 million jobs in the long-term to fully capitalise on the working-age population. This scale of transformation requires serious economic planning. Climate action and disaster risk management (DRM) present another gap. Nepal is the 6th most climate- vulnerable country in the world. The September 24 floods alone caused losses estimated at over Rs.46.68 billion, damaging 26 hydropower plants. Yet climate budgeting and disaster resilience are rarely campaign headlines. Every environmental crisis consumes money intended for development. Furthermore, there is a massive 'operational disconnection'. The people who write manifestos are usually not the ones who implement them. A critical loophole identified by the World Bank's Assessment reveals that nearly 50 per cent of the human resources capacity needs of provincial and local level governments remain unfulfilled. This means even the most brilliant policy at the top level hits a bottleneck at the sub-national level. When a leader promises to turn Nepal into 'Switzerland', they are ignoring a GDP gap of 20x and massive capacity deficit to build that future. To turn a manifesto into instruments of transformation, we must read those as maps rather than wish lists. This time, let's look for measurable targets. Not a vague 'improving healthcare', but 'access to a health facility within 30 minutes for 90 per cent of households' as mentioned in the 16th national development plan. Ask what the plan is for the first 100 days. See where the money is coming from, whether through taxes, loans or reallocation. Nepalis vote on hope because, for a long time, hope was all we had. That is why 2026 still feels hopeful. But hope without a workable, finances and realistic plan remains only a dream. As March 5 approaches, hope should be our fuel, but policy must be our steering wheel. The real question of 2026 is not whether we want prosperity. Everyone does. The question is whether our leaders, beyond charisma and connection, have credible pathways to deliver. This time, let us look beyond the face and viral clip. Let us scrutinise the math and examine the map. Let us vote for the 'how' not just the impressive 'what'.