I recall my first deployment as a social worker for an NGO in a remote village. Our small plane landed on the snowy airport, I saw children and women standing around the airport holding ropes and sacks, were porters. I was guided to the office from the airport on a two-hour walk, and a woman approached me on the way, showing me her badly infected and wounded hand. I was unable to fully examine the wound because it was too infected. She believed that any pills or medicine could heal her wound, but at that time I couldn't help her immediately, I was afraid. Later, we organized a few medical camps in many villages to provide aid. This incident deeply disturbed me, and I remember asking my father why he had migrated from the mountain to the flat land called Kailali, where I grew up. As he took me to my birthplace village in the mountain, he smiled and told me that the reason for the migration was to provide a better life for me and my brothers and to send us to school. At the time, I d...