KATHMANDU: On April 25, 2015, Nepal was struck by a catastrophic 7.8 magnitude earthquake, with its epicenter at Barpak in Gorkha district. In just under a minute, the tremor claimed nearly 9,000 lives, injured over 22,000, and flattened hundreds of thousands of homes. Centuries-old cultural monuments crumbled, and infrastructure across 14 districts suffered severe damage. The earthquake was followed by hundreds of aftershocks, including a major one on May 12. Ten years on, Nepal is still reckoning with the socio-economic, political, and psychological consequences of the disaster. This analysis explores the quake’s long-term impact and Nepal’s efforts—both commendable and lacking—in recovery.
Housing and infrastructure recovery
The Gorkha Earthquake destroyed or severely damaged over 800,000 private houses, rendering millions homeless. The immediate need for shelter led to widespread displacement, with families living under tarpaulin sheets or in makeshift camps for months and even years.
The National Reconstruction Authority (NRA), established on December 25, 2015, became the central agency for overseeing reconstruction. Progress was slow initially due to political wrangling, delayed legislation, and bureaucratic hurdles. Homeowners were promised NPR 300,000 in government housing aid, but many struggled with eligibility criteria, documentation, and fund disbursement procedures.
Technical know-how and trained masons were in short supply during the first few years, but targeted training programs gradually improved the quality of rebuilding. By 2025, the NRA reported that over 90% of eligible homes had been reconstructed or were in the final stages of completion. Urban reconstruction, particularly of heritage sites in Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Lalitpur, was slow but eventually gained momentum.
However, public infrastructure—including schools, hospitals, and roads—still lags behind, especially in rural and hilly areas. Retrofitting of public buildings was limited, exposing them to future disasters. While private housing recovery was largely achieved through homeowner-driven reconstruction, public infrastructure and community facilities still suffer from underinvestment and delay, pointing to gaps in institutional resilience.
Socioeconomic and livelihood impacts
The earthquake exacerbated existing poverty and inequality, particularly in rural and marginalized communities. Many households lost not only homes but also livelihoods—fields, livestock, tools, and local markets were destroyed. The tourism industry, a major economic pillar for Nepal, suffered an estimated 40% drop in the months following the quake. International tourist arrivals fell sharply, impacting hotel operators, trekking agencies, and local guides. Women were disproportionately affected, with higher mortality rates due to gendered roles that kept them indoors and fewer opportunities in the recovery phase. Many widows and female-headed households found it difficult to access state relief and reconstruction funds.
The Post Disaster Needs Assessment (PDNA) estimated economic losses at over USD 7 billion, and while donor pledges totaled more than USD 4 billion, disbursement was slow and often mired in bureaucratic red tape. Informal laborers, small businesses, and micro-enterprises struggled to recover without sustained support. However, some positive outcomes emerged. Skills training and reconstruction-related employment provided short-term job opportunities. The construction and cement industries saw a boom, and the disaster spurred interest in resilient engineering practices.
Yet long-term livelihoods in agriculture and cottage industries remain precarious in many quake-affected districts. The socioeconomic rebound has been uneven, highlighting a lack of inclusive and equitable recovery strategies, especially for vulnerable groups like Dalits, women, the elderly, and indigenous communities.
Political and institutional shifts
One of the most significant political outcomes of the 2015 earthquake was the promulgation of Nepal’s new constitution. In the wake of national trauma, political parties found a rare moment of consensus, and the long-delayed constitution was passed on September 20, 2015. While controversial and contested—especially in the Madhesh region—it laid the foundation for a federal, secular republic. The earthquake acted as a catalyst, pushing major parties to conclude the constitution-writing process that had stalled for years.
The National Reconstruction Authority was established with a mandate to coordinate the post-disaster response. While it played a key role in reconstruction, the NRA also revealed flaws in institutional capacity. Political interference in appointments and delays in leadership selection hampered efficiency. Reconstruction became politicized, with local leaders using housing aid as a tool of patronage. Despite this, some structural reforms did take place.
New building codes were introduced, and disaster risk reduction gained greater priority in development plans. However, disaster governance is still not fully institutionalized. The dissolution of the NRA in December, 2021 left a vacuum in long-term resilience planning. Its responsibilities and capital were handed over to the Department of Urban Development and Building Construction and the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA). While political shifts did occur, they were short-lived. The post-quake unity among parties gradually gave way to the usual factionalism, frequent government changes, and parliamentary dysfunction, undermining consistent disaster preparedness and governance reform.
Cultural heritage and urban recovery
Cultural heritage was one of the most visibly affected sectors. The quake destroyed or severely damaged more than 1,500 historical structures, including many within the UNESCO World Heritage Sites of the Kathmandu Valley. The iconic Dharahara Tower, also known as Bhimsen Stambha, in Kathmandu was reduced to rubble. Temples, stupas, and palaces that had stood for centuries crumbled in moments. The impact went beyond architecture—it dealt a blow to the cultural identity and pride of the nation.
Restoration began slowly, hindered by lack of expertise, limited funding, and bureaucratic delays in approvals from the Department of Archaeology and UNESCO. International agencies like the Chinese Academy of Cultural Heritage, the Japanese government, and others partnered in rebuilding several key sites, including the Durbar Squares and Swayambhunath. However, some reconstruction sparked controversy over authenticity and use of modern materials.
Urban recovery plans tried to integrate heritage conservation with modern seismic standards, but the process has been uneven. Many important monuments, like Kasthamandap and Dharahara, took years to rebuild and are still being finalized. Community involvement in heritage rebuilding was often symbolic rather than structural, and many artisans were left out of critical decisions. While restoration of monuments has made visible progress in the capital, smaller and less popular sites remain ignored. The quake showed how vulnerable cultural assets are in the face of disaster and how critical it is to integrate heritage protection into urban planning.
Disaster preparedness and future resilience
Ten years on, Nepal remains vulnerable to earthquakes and other disasters. Despite lessons from 2015, disaster preparedness at the community and institutional level is still inadequate. The government introduced new seismic building codes and mandatory design approvals for urban construction. Thousands of engineers and masons were trained in earthquake-resistant techniques. The school retrofitting program, backed by donors, made progress in making educational buildings safer. However, implementation has been patchy, and compliance with building norms is weak, especially in peri-urban areas.
Urban sprawl continues unchecked, often without proper geological assessments. Emergency response infrastructure—including equipment, stockpiles, and rescue training—has improved but remains far from sufficient. Local governments, empowered by federal restructuring, are still learning how to integrate disaster risk reduction (DRR) into their development agenda. Public awareness campaigns exist but are sporadic and lack follow-through. The institutional memory of the Gorkha Earthquake risks fading, especially as political leadership changes and global attention shifts.
Furthermore, climate change is introducing new layers of risk, including glacial lake outbursts and landslides, which require integrated risk management. While the Gorkha Earthquake led to some systemic reforms, it also revealed enduring weaknesses in Nepal’s ability to prepare, plan, and respond to disasters. True resilience requires more than infrastructure—it requires institutional commitment and public trust.
Mental health and psychological trauma
The psychological toll of the 2015 Gorkha Earthquake was immense but underreported and under-addressed in Nepal’s largely physical reconstruction-focused recovery plan. The quake left deep emotional scars on survivors, especially children, women, and the elderly. Symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, depression, and survivor’s guilt were common in the months and years following the disaster. The overwhelming experience of witnessing death, injury, and destruction shattered the sense of safety for millions.
However, Nepal’s mental health infrastructure was severely limited even before the quake, with fewer than two dozen psychiatrists and only a handful of trained clinical psychologists available across the country. In the immediate aftermath, NGOs and INGOs initiated psychosocial counseling programs in camps and schools, but these were temporary and donor-driven. Most government hospitals did not have dedicated mental health units. Mental health remained stigmatized, especially in rural areas, where people were more likely to consult shamans than trained counselors.
Over the years, while awareness has slightly improved and some local governments have started integrating psychosocial support into public health, there remains a major gap in sustained service delivery. The pandemic-era mental health crisis further highlighted this vulnerability. A decade on, mental health continues to be one of the most neglected dimensions of disaster recovery in Nepal.
True resilience must account not just for homes and heritage, but for emotional healing and long-term psychological care—something glaringly missing from the state’s response. As the country prepares for future disasters, mental health must be moved from the periphery to the center of disaster risk management.
The role of international aid and its mismanagement
The global response to the Gorkha Earthquake was swift and substantial. Within weeks, the international community pledged over USD 4.4 billion in aid for rescue, relief, and reconstruction. Countries like China, India, the U.S., Japan, the UK, and multilateral agencies such as the World Bank and ADB promised both financial and technical assistance. International NGOs flooded Nepal, initiating hundreds of humanitarian projects. However, coordination between donors and the Nepali state was poor.
The government’s delay in setting up the National Reconstruction Authority and creating a centralized aid tracking mechanism resulted in confusion and overlapping efforts. Many INGOs operated independently of local authorities, while others were mired in controversies over inflated costs, poor targeting, and cultural insensitivity. Despite donor interest, only about 40% of pledged aid was actually disbursed by the end of NRA’s tenure in late 2021.
Large chunks of funds remained unused due to bureaucratic bottlenecks and Nepal’s weak absorptive capacity. There were also allegations of corruption, duplication of efforts, and lack of transparency in how contracts were awarded for rebuilding schools, hospitals, and public buildings. The ‘Build Back Better’ promise was often reduced to slogans, with quality compromised under donor pressure to deliver fast results.
Yet, international aid did play a crucial role in saving lives, funding housing grants, restoring iconic heritage, and offering temporary livelihood support. The lesson for Nepal is clear: foreign aid must be better managed, locally coordinated, and transparently audited. Dependency on external support must be reduced through strengthened domestic institutions and long-term resilience financing. Without this, future disasters may once again expose Nepal’s vulnerability to not just nature—but to its own governance failures.
Federalism and local governments in post-quake governance
Nepal’s shift to federalism in 2017 gave local governments constitutional authority over disaster management—a development with both opportunities and challenges in the post-quake context. While the 2015 earthquake occurred under a unitary system, its recovery unfolded during Nepal’s federal transition. Local governments were expected to take on key roles in reconstruction, housing approvals, infrastructure restoration, and social support. In practice, however, they were underprepared.
Many rural municipalities lacked engineers, planners, and financial autonomy to handle complex reconstruction tasks. There was a steep learning curve for newly elected mayors and ward chairs, many of whom had no prior experience in governance. Despite this, some local governments showed initiative by mobilizing communities, enforcing building codes, and coordinating with NGOs.
For example, in districts like Sindhupalchok and Gorkha, local units helped streamline housing verification and disbursement. Yet others failed to provide consistent services or fell prey to local power struggles and political favoritism. The overlap of authority between federal, provincial, and local levels also created confusion in post-quake governance. Moreover, the federal government’s centralization tendency—especially in budget control—hampered true decentralization. As Nepal continues down the federal path, the experience of post-earthquake recovery highlights the importance of building local institutional capacity, not just transferring responsibilities.
Disaster governance is now legally a local affair as per the Constitution, but functionally it remains disconnected from planning, budgeting, and execution. To prepare for future earthquakes, Nepal must invest in empowering local governments with technical resources, disaster plans, and decision-making authority. Federalism can be a strength, but only if decentralization goes beyond rhetoric and is backed by real capability on the ground.
Earthquake early warning and science gaps
Despite Nepal’s location in one of the most seismically active zones on earth, its scientific infrastructure for earthquake preparedness remains dangerously underdeveloped. Prior to the 2015 Gorkha Earthquake, there was little public discourse on seismic risk or early warning. The quake sparked interest in seismology, geotechnical engineering, and geological studies. International scientists collaborated with Nepali institutions to install additional seismic stations, GPS arrays, and fault-monitoring tools.
Yet, a decade later, Nepal still lacks a nationwide earthquake early warning system that could alert people seconds before shaking begins—a delay that could save thousands of lives. The Department of Mines and Geology remains underfunded and understaffed, and coordination between scientific agencies, local governments, and emergency responders is weak. While hazard maps and micro-zonation efforts have begun, most cities and towns continue to expand haphazardly on unstable slopes or soft riverbeds.
School curricula have not fully integrated seismic safety education, and most ordinary citizens do not know what to do when the next big quake strikes. Investments in earthquake-resistant designs remain limited to urban elites, while rural construction often ignores both code and context. Nepal has missed opportunities to partner with regional programs, such as India’s recently tested early warning network.
The science-policy gap remains wide, and while researchers produce valuable insights, they rarely influence decision-making. In essence, Nepal’s earthquake science is improving but still disconnected from public safety. Bridging this gap requires political will, scientific investment, and clear public communication so that when—not if—the next earthquake hits, Nepal is not caught off guard again.
The lingering question of preparedness for the next big quake
Perhaps the most sobering reality ten years after the Gorkha Earthquake is that Nepal remains dangerously underprepared for the next seismic event. Scientists have long warned that the April 2015 quake did not release all the tectonic stress built up along the Himalayan fault lines. In fact, geologists note that a much larger rupture could still occur closer to Kathmandu Valley, where population density and urban vulnerability are far greater. Despite this, disaster preparedness has not become a political priority.
The national emergency response system lacks coherence; the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA), established in December, 2019, is still developing operational capacity. Emergency drills are rare, rescue services under-equipped, and hospitals ill-prepared for mass casualties. The building boom in cities like Kathmandu and Pokhara continues unchecked, often flouting regulations. Schools and hospitals, which should be seismic safe zones, remain vulnerable.
Even in villages rebuilt post-Gorkha, new homes often mimic old vulnerabilities. Community-level preparedness is ad hoc, reliant on NGO projects rather than state-driven resilience plans. Early warning systems are absent, and response protocols are not well rehearsed. Nepal has failed to treat the Gorkha Earthquake as a turning point. Instead, it risks repeating the same mistakes.
As memories of 2015 fade, so does the urgency to act. Preparedness is not just about infrastructure—it’s about systems, accountability, and public engagement. Until Nepal invests meaningfully in readiness, another disaster could again turn into a national tragedy. The clock is ticking.
Timeline of major earthquakes in Nepal
