Talka Sada, a father in his 50s from Saptari district in Nepal's Terai region, borrowed about $13 and set out on foot with his brother through flood-devastated areas of northern Nepal, hoping to find his only son, Vinod, 19, who has been missing since August 26.
Vinod had arrived in Rasuwa district—the hardest-hit area—about a month before the floods to work at a hydropower plant. Four other young men working alongside him, all aged between 17 and 19, are also missing after flash floods swept down the Bhotekoshi River.
Sada said his last conversation with his son was the day before the flood. "I cannot describe how my wife is crying. I am also in pain and don't know what to do," he said, wiping away tears.
With the little money he had, the two brothers took a bus from Saptari to the capital, Kathmandu—a 292-kilometer journey that took about nine hours through hilly terrain. In Kathmandu, they went from hospital to hospital, checking lists of survivors and confirmed dead for Vinod. But his name and photo were nowhere to be found in hospitals or morgues, where many bodies from the northern areas had been brought.
They then walked about 60 kilometers to Nuwakot and Trishuli. In Trishuli, a guesthouse charged 1,500 rupees (about $11) for one night but served only a small meal. "If we stay another night, the money will run out and I will have nothing left to go home," Sada said.
Sada said he and his brother repeatedly tried to access morgues and army camps in their search but were turned away. He suspects ethnic discrimination, as the Madhesi community in the Terai region is often viewed with suspicion by Nepal's elite. His family belongs to the Musahar community, a particularly marginalized group living in the Terai.
"We are poor. They see us as Madhesi and Bihari. We don't speak fluent Nepali—that's why they push us away and make us run from one place to another," he said, weeping. "Even if he is dead, we have the right to see him. We registered our names everywhere, from police posts to army camps. But no one is helping us."
Nepal's government is overwhelmed by the scale of the disaster, with more than 1,000 people dead and thousands still missing. Authorities stress they are making every effort to reach and assist all survivors.
Sada kept calling his son's phone, but there was no answer. He swung between hope and despair. "My son is young and sharp. Maybe he ran to someplace," he said, but then admitted: "I no longer have hope. If Vinod were alive, he would have called from somewhere, even just for a drink of water."
Still, he has not given up. As he continued toward the hydropower plant where his son worked, he said with helplessness and anger: "If no one responds or helps, we might have to burn down the police post."
