It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that when the earth shook on April 25, 2015, the lives of Nepalis changed forever. The 7.8-magnitude earthquake, which had its epicentre in Gorkha, Nepal - about 110 km northwest of Kathmandu - which claimed more than 9,000 lives and displaced millions. In the decade since, we’ve rebuilt homes and restored infrastructure, but the deeper cracks in our disaster preparedness systems remain alarmingly unaddressed.
Bimala, 37, a mother from Gorkha, was five months pregnant when the quake struck. “I thought it was the end,” she recalls. Her home was destroyed, water sources dried up, and she had nowhere to go. She eventually gave birth at a temporary health post set up by Save the Children. “We survived, but even now, I live in fear of what comes next.”

Bimala, 37, was five months pregnant when the quake struck Nepal in 2015. Here, Bimala and her son Bijay look at photos of themselves taken after the earthquake 10 years ago.
Nepal sits along the active boundary of the Indian and Eurasian tectonic plates, making it the 11th most earthquake-prone country in the world. And yet, despite this well-known risk, we remain dangerously underprepared.
Nepal has introduced important policies, such as the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Act and the National Disaster Response Framework. But implementation at the local level remains weak. Community disaster plans often exist only on paper. Local governments—our first line of defence—are still sidelined in decision-making processes dominated by centralised systems. We’ve also observed that these plans need to move closer to the people, especially children from marginalised backgrounds, whose voices and lived experiences are often limited while designing disaster response plans and actions.
It is well known that during disasters, children face heightened risks, including: trafficking, interrupted education, poor sanitation, and long-term psychological trauma. Yet our response models still tend to follow a one-size-fits-all approach, often overlooking the specific needs of children, women, and underrepresented groups such as LGBTQI+ individuals and persons with disabilities.

A school in Nepal which remains damaged after the 2015 earthquake.
There’s no denying that we remain at risk, and the consequences of this gap are stark. In November 2023, a 6.4-magnitude earthquake struck Jajarkot (Karnali Province), killing 154 people and flattening more than 60,000 homes. Several smaller tremors have followed—a bleak reminder of our ongoing vulnerability. So, when the next big earthquake hits, will we be ready?
Our consultations with more than a dozen individuals most affected by the disaster reveal a sobering truth: communities are still fragile. A critical review of our humanitarian response systems shows that our efforts remain largely reactive. And the most vulnerable—especially children—are often an afterthought.
When the Gorkha Earthquake hit, Save the Children Nepal was among the first responders. We reached over 580,000 people, including 352,000 children, with life-saving support. This included things like temporary shelters, clean water and sanitation services, and essential non-food items. We set up temporary learning centres, offered psychosocial support, and helped children regain a sense of normality amid the chaos. The destruction was immense: nearly 30,000 classrooms across 8,304 schools and almost 1,000 health facilities were destroyed or damaged.

Bimala with her son, Bijay, who was born two months after the earthquake struck in 2015. When the 7.9 magnitude earthquake hit Nepal on 25 April 2015, Bimala remembers running out of the house with her three children – she was four months pregnant at the time. Bijay Gajmer/ Save the Children
A decade later, we continue to work alongside local governments to ensure that preparedness is not just about having plans—it’s about centring those plans around the people. Through capacity-building and school-based disaster risk reduction programs, we are strengthening communities’ ability to anticipate, respond to, and recover from disasters. At the heart of our work is child protection—ensuring that children’s needs are not only met after a disaster but are anticipated before it strikes.

Bimala, 37, who was pregnant at the time of the 2015 earthquake, with her sons Bijay, 10 (left), and Bikram, 8, (right).
One thing has become clearer over the past ten years: humanitarian action must be localised. And this doesn’t mean simply shifting resources—it means sharing them with those on the frontlines, especially local governments. In line with this, we’ve introduced a Combined Relief Approach—an innovative model that integrates the capacity of local governments with Save the Children’s humanitarian response. Beyond immediate relief, this model promotes government ownership, transparency, and shared action. It enables joint resource mobilisation, pooled expertise, and coordinated responses from the outset. In doing so, it strengthens local governments’ ability to lead future crises and ensures that the voices of children are centred in both pre- and post-disaster actions.
Still, I must say—though we’ve made progress, it’s not enough. We must intentionally partner with local governments and collaborate with the children and communities we work with and for.
Global humanitarian funding may be shrinking, but for a country as disaster-prone as ours, preparedness is not a luxury—it is a necessity. Investing in local systems, community-led solutions, and child-centred disaster planning must become national priorities. Because when disaster strikes, children—and those who are most marginalised—suffer the most. And they deserve better.
Read more about our work in Nepal.
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