Dharan, Nepal — In the eastern Nepali city of Dharan, Mayor Harka Raj Rai—widely known as Harka Sampang—has become a household name. Once celebrated as a symbol of grassroots activism, his journey from water-carrying protester to elected mayor made headlines across the country. But today, his name conjures not just inspiration, but controversy—so much so that for many, “development” is no longer the word most commonly associated with him. It is “drama.”

Sampang’s signature style blends guitar solos, poetry, and Facebook rants with administrative duties—creating a spectacle rarely seen in local governance. But beneath the colorful performance lies a growing list of serious allegations and public grievances.

Among the most widely discussed controversies is his alleged role during Nepal’s civil war as a fake Maoist guerrilla who extorted money from villagers. He has also been accused of promoting evangelical Christianity in a predominantly Hindu region, making casteist remarks, and misusing the municipal budget for self-promotion. Though many of these charges remain unproven, their persistence in public discourse points to deepening disillusionment with his leadership.

One particularly bizarre episode has become symbolic of Sampang’s tenure. A few years ago, the signboard at the entrance to the Dharan Sub-Metropolitan Office simply read, “Dharan Sub-Metropolitan, Municipal Executive Office.” Legend has it that one chilly evening, Sampang, sipping tea and beer while strumming his guitar, was struck by divine inspiration. He insisted on adding “Local Government” in bold letters above the official title. The change, while trivial to outsiders, became his political branding.

But in July 2024, ten political parties staged a protest against his administration. In the ensuing demonstration, the infamous “Local Government” signboard was vandalized by angry locals. Sampang posted furiously on Facebook, declaring, “No one is above the law!” Yet, ironically, the broken board has remained unrestored to this day. According to municipal sources, Sampang has deliberately chosen not to repair it until 2027—believing the broken sign will serve as a powerful campaign symbol in the next election.

Locals see this differently. “If he truly respected the dignity of Dharan, he would’ve fixed the board already,” said one resident. “Either he’s gone blind or he’s pretending not to see it.”

Questions also swirl around the transparency of Sampang’s flagship water project. While he collected over NPR 70 million (approx. $530,000 USD) for a community drinking water initiative, reports reveal NPR 6.5 million was spent without proper procedure. Additionally, NPR 2.7 million was used for labor—raising eyebrows since the project was supposedly based on voluntary work. Critics ask: if it was volunteer-based, where did the wages come from?

His handling of municipal administration has also raised alarms. In 2023, Chief Administrative Officer Pragnya Devi Niraula was allegedly pressured to sign off on illegal files. When she resisted, she was placed on leave.

Meanwhile, Sampang halted the federally funded Health Corridor project in Ward 5, citing illegal encroachment of a river. Local representatives, however, argue the project was suspended unilaterally and without consultation—leaving essential infrastructure incomplete.

What’s more, Sampang reportedly spent NPR 200,000 of municipal funds to plant a cottonwood tree in front of his own house and NPR 235,000 to purchase a drone, which has since disappeared from public view. Walls of the municipal building now feature his personal poetry and slogans. In Dharan’s iconic Clock Tower area, granite slabs engraved with his verses have popped up. Locals quip, “This isn’t a city office anymore—it’s turning into the Sampang Museum.”

These controversies, whether proven or not, suggest a mayor more interested in self-image than structural change. While his guitar and slogans might captivate social media, they do little to fix real problems: ongoing water shortages, stalled development, administrative confusion, and public frustration.

“It’s time to replace ‘Local Government’ with ‘Local Showman’ on that board,” one young woman from Dharan said wryly.

Despite the pressing issues facing Dharan, Sampang’s posts, photo ops, and poetic performances continue unabated. But as the city’s patience wears thin, many are asking whether it’s time to end the spectacle and return to serious governance.

And if Mayor Sampang still thinks he can govern with a broken board and a tuned guitar—well, the next election may finally play a tune he doesn’t want to hear.

Harka Sampang