No place to play for Kathmandu kids

On a weekday afternoon in Koteshwar, 11-year-old Aayan Bikram sits near the window of his family's flat, watching the street below. His cricket bat leans against the wall. His friends are somewhere outside, he can hear them but he is not allowed to join them. Not today. Not most days. ‘‘When I see my friends playing outside carefreely, I wish my mother would allow me too,’’ he said. ‘‘Sometimes I wish she were not home.’’ Aayan's mother, Kiran Kafle, has her reasons. A few months ago, her son was injured while playing outside and left alone with a wound on his head while the neighbours who were present did nothing. ‘‘They left my kid all alone and told him to go away,’’ she said. ‘‘I don't like this society. They have problems with children playing outside. They complain about noise the minute children are out.’’ When children do manage to gather in the lane, she said, neighbours have gone as far as confiscating their cricket bats and balls—holding them ransom for days to ensure silence. So Kafle keeps Aayan inside, walks him to school in the morning, delivers his lunch at noon and picks him up in the afternoon. ‘‘I walk back and forth thrice already,’’ she said. ‘‘And as a housewife, I have to cook dinner on time. I cannot always take him to play.’’ The nearest option she knows of ‘‘Madan Bhandari Park’’, offers little comfort. ‘‘However, it is only good for adults who want to sit and talk,’’ she said. ‘‘It is not child-friendly. There is no space for children to run.’’