DANG, July 5: Sixty-two-year-old Muljita Rokaya of Ghorahi Sub-Metropolitan City-7 never imagined that sending her daughter to the capital for higher education would cost her not just a hefty tuition fee, but her only piece of land—and peace of mind.
When her daughter’s Master’s-level tuition fee of Rs 100,000 became too much to manage, Muljita hoped for help. Her only asset was a plot of 10 kattha and 8 dhur of land back in her village—her family's sole source of income. That’s when Tika Budha, son-in-law of prominent Maoist leader Krishna Bahadur Mahara, entered the picture—claiming kinship and offering a solution.
Claiming to be her “nephew” from an old familial tie, Tika approached Muljita with a proposal: lease the land to him for an agricultural cooperative. Trusting the man who had once called her fupu (father’s sister) even during the Maoist conflict, Muljita agreed.
“He called me fupu during the war, and although we hadn’t been in touch for years, I believed him,” she said, “I needed the money for my daughter’s studies.”
In 2021, the two signed a lease agreement—on paper. Tika, representing the Janajyoti Livestock Farmers' Cooperative based in Ghorahi-15, promised an annual rent of Rs 24,000. Initially, he had assured Muljita that she would receive Rs 100,000 upfront, but failed to do so.
Over time, Tika paid her a total of Rs 120,000 in four installments. What she didn’t know was that her land was no longer hers—it had already been sold.
Retired land revenue officer accused of grabbing 590 ropani gov...

The deception unfolded gradually. Tika had taken her to the Land Revenue Office in Ghorahi, saying her signature was needed to open the agricultural farm. Unaware, she signed several documents. “They said it was needed to start the farm,” Muljita recalled. “They had me sign some papers and I returned home.”
In reality, those papers transferred the ownership of her land.
A few days later, a young man and woman appeared at her home, claiming that her land had been sold via Chhinuwa (settlement sale) and offering to buy it from her. “I told them it was leased, not sold,” she said. Alarmed, she called Tika. “He told me not to worry, that my enemies were trying to mislead me. He said the land hadn’t been sold.”
She believed him—until she tried to pay land taxes and discovered that the land had been registered under someone else’s name.
When Muljita went to the Land Revenue Office, she was shocked to find the land no longer in her name. It was now owned by Parashuram Shrestha of Ghorahi-15. Further investigation revealed that Lakshman Sharma of Rampur, Dang had first bought the land from Tika, and six months later, sold it to Parashuram in December 2021.
“I was numb when I found out,” Muljita said, holding back tears. “I sat crying right there in the office.”
When confronted, Tika promised to either return the land or refund her money. But now, he’s nowhere to be found. “He lied,” she said bitterly. “He said he’d either return my land or pay me. But now, he’s unreachable. His phone is switched off.”
Hoping for justice, Muljita approached her “nephew’s” father-in-law, Maoist leader Krishna Bahadur Mahara. She pleaded with him to intervene. Mahara promised to speak to Tika—but also asked her not to take any action that might harm his daughter or himself. “He said, ‘I’ll talk to him, but don’t drag my daughter or me into this issue if he refuses,’” Muljita recounted.
With no support from Mahara and no sign of Tika, Muljita turned to the current landowner, Parashuram Shrestha. He said he would return the land if she refunded the full amount he paid. “He said, ‘If I get my money back, I’ll return your land.’ But how can I raise that kind of money now?” she asked, visibly distressed.
As if the betrayal wasn't enough, Muljita learned that the cooperative through which her land was “leased” had been built on a façade. Tika had allegedly forged the cooperative’s leadership. While the lease agreement listed Deepa Budha as treasurer, she now claims she was unaware of any such role.
“They just asked us to open accounts,” Deepa said. “We were never told we held positions in the cooperative.”
Local women, including Deepa, were persuaded to sign lease agreements under the pretense of supporting an agricultural venture. “Tika said he was leasing land for a farm and asked us to sign as representatives of the cooperative,” Deepa said. “But we never knew we were listed as president, secretary, or treasurer.”
Muljita now spends her days in uncertainty, unsure how to reclaim her land, her trust shattered, her resources depleted. What started as a mother’s effort to educate her daughter has spiraled into a harrowing tale of deceit, exploitation, and betrayal by those she once called family.
“I just want my land back,” she said, “or at least justice.”