Festivals Without Women

With the end of the festive season, most of us find ourselves looking back at the joy and togetherness it brought into our lives. We recall playing cards, eating delicious meals, traveling, seeing friends and family members and sharing laughter. However, in the middle of this celebration, have we ever paused to reflect on the invisible labour that made these moments possible?

Nepali society has evolved in gender equality, yet the echoes of patriarchy still shape our homes. Women continue to carry the weight of unpaid care work: cooking, cleaning, hosting guests, and keeping festivals lively. These expectations are named as responsibility, compromise, or simply “being a woman.” The old belief still haunts: gharbar thamne bhaneko chhori manchei ho, it is the girl who must hold the home together.

We take pride in sending our daughters to school. We say we “allow” our daughters or daughters-in-law to work and consider ourselves progressive for doing so. But does permission equate to equality? Education alone is not enough without equal opportunity, support, and freedom to pursue one’s aspirations.

Women who step into the workforce still continue to juggle office work and household chores; a situation created by our embedded society that forces most to quit their jobs. Whenever they succeed, society doubts their integrity: How did she get a promotion so fast? When they remain in lower positions, society blames their lack of ambition. And once they enter into motherhood, maternity leave provides a momentary respite, coming back is war against conscience, condemnation and a world that tends to look down on them.

Even in urban households where men “help,” the support often carries applause or conditions. If a woman asks to share responsibilities or leads decisions, she is called controlling or manipulative. Meanwhile, when a man cooks or washes dishes occasionally, he is praised as a rare hero. This double standard proves we still see housework as a woman’s duty. But isn’t cooking, cleaning, and caring for one’s home a basic human skill? Until these roles are shared by everyone, equality will remain incomplete

Festivals make this imbalance even more visible. Ask yourself: who truly enjoyed Dashain and Tihar? While men and children celebrated, many women spent their “holiday” rolling sel roti for hours, preparing meat, managing guests, cleaning nonstop, and washing endless dishes long after everyone else slept. Their labour is taken for granted; an expectation disguised as culture.

Here lies the truth: women make festivals festive. Without their invisible labour, celebration is not celebratory. If women stopped doing this work, would celebrations feel the same? Festivals would be incomplete without women, yet many experience the festival the least.

As we put away tika and lights, this is a moment to reflect and act. Equality at home must go beyond words and posts. It must be lived, through shared responsibilities, valuing unpaid labour, and supporting women to pursue their dreams.

Festivals should be a time of joy for everyone. Let us ensure the next celebration is more equal, conscious, and fair because progress begins at home. For all.