Sindhuli, 14 Aug: Around the pine forest, the area is deserted. At the end of a steep downhill path, barely wide enough for a single step, there is a small stream. From there begins a field where dried corn stalks stand.
A little higher up, thick pumpkin vines cover the ground. Around the silent house, scattered pieces of wood, children’s slippers, books, notebooks, clothes, and other belongings lie about.
The ancestral home in Bipper Kateri, Golanjore Rural Municipality–6, chosen by Sane Hayu, who died three years ago, has become desolate. This happened after, on the night of July 25 (Saun 10), a family of 16 left their home at midnight. On the third day, when news spread that the entire family was missing, they were found that night in Pokhara, Kaski. Although the Hayu family returned on August 3 (Saun 19), they still could not go back to their own house.
The 22-member family, including 52-year-old Urmila Hayu, has found shelter in a three-room house belonging to Ward Chairperson Rabin Kumar Shrestha in Sungure. After continuous attempts in Pokhara to persuade them to return, Shrestha promised them a place to stay in his own house, which convinced them to come back — but not to their original home. Why does the Hayu family refuse to return to their house, leaving behind livestock, poultry, clothes, food grains, and all their possessions?
About 50–60 years ago, the Hayu family moved from Wadi in Ramechhap Municipality to Basheswar in Golanjore-6, Sindhuli. Wadi and Basheswar are close to each other, separated by the Sunkoshi River. The family bought four ropani of sloping farmland in Bhandas and settled there. Being skilled in woodwork, they later moved to Bipper Kateri. Their home in Bipper Kateri, located about an hour away from their land in Bhandas, stood on land owned by Giriraj Koirala and Dhundiraj Koirala.
According to Urmila, the elderly couple (Sane and his wife) earned a living by making and selling window and door frames, ploughs, yokes, and other wooden tools. Since the area was close to the forest, the Hayu family built their home on the Koirala family’s land and lived there.
Apart from Urmila, the family consisted of 6 sons, 6 daughters, 1 daughter-in-law, 1 grandson, and 1 granddaughter—totaling 16 members. The eldest son, Raju, had gone to the Gulf countries for work two years ago. He has now been back in his homeland for about a month and a half. In their family, Kamala, the eldest daughter, had her husband Dhan Bahadur Tamang living with them at his in-laws’ place (in Bipar Katari) for the past two years. With a large family living in a house with only three rooms, their living conditions were quite chaotic.
For the past year and a half, Urmila had been worried as the children in the house had started behaving wildly—screaming, fainting, and running around uncontrollably. The problem was more severe with her youngest daughter, Asmita. The family believed that this was happening due to a spirit possession (Deuta Chaderako Andhabishwas).
“Claiming that the spirit of their deceased father had entered her body, their daughter began to behave wildly. As she raved, the family started acting according to her demands. ‘Whatever the spirit possessing our daughter said had to be done. We had to purify ourselves by bathing three or four times a day. Even our infant grandson, not yet a year old, had to be woken at midnight for a ritual bath. Young children were forbidden from walking alone—even going to the toilet required four or five people accompanying them,’ Urmila explained, recounting the reasons they were forced to abandon their home. ‘The spirit kept insisting, “This place is no longer safe to live in—leave as soon as possible.” Eventually, we had no choice but to flee.’
They left in secret, without informing anyone, taking a forest trail along the Mid-Hill Highway before boarding a vehicle. Urmila revealed that it was her son-in-law, Dhan Bahadur, who orchestrated their sudden departure. ‘Once all the unmarried members of the household were singled out, the family concluded that staying was no longer an option,’ she said.”
Dr. Saroj Kumar Shah of the Sun Koshi Community Hospital in Golanjor-7, Khurkot, had examined Asmita, the youngest daughter of the Hayu family. “About four or five days ago, they brought her to the hospital at midnight, claiming she was ill. But there was nothing physically wrong—she just had a stomachache, so we gave her an injection. Later, we learned she was showing symptoms of hysteria at home. In medical terms, we call it a ‘conversion disorder.’ We kept her under observation for a few hours before sending her back,” he said. “From what I heard, the family seems deeply trapped in superstition. With proper psychiatric counseling and therapy, her condition could improve.”
Why Was the Entire Family Forced to Abandon Their Home?
On Friday, the 9th of Sāun (Nepali month), their son-in-law slaughtered two pigs they had been raising at home and sold the meat to a hotel in Khurkot. Notably, nearly half the members of Urmila’s family do not eat meat. According to Raju, the eldest son, the day passed uneventfully until evening, when their youngest sister began acting hysterically.
“She ordered everyone to purify themselves by bathing. As night fell, she demanded that everyone remove and discard their mobile SIM cards. Then, she insisted that we leave the house by 1 AM, and we obeyed in panic. In our rush, we even forgot to take our goats and chickens,” Raju recounted. “We didn’t notice if the kitchen caught fire or if our clothes were scattered—we just fled to save our lives.”
Since their son-in-law was in Pokhara, Raju arranged a vehicle, and they left around 2 AM. Though Raju had spent two years abroad and considered himself rational, the torment they endured over the past month and a half wore him down, forcing the family to abandon their home.
The Hayu family lived in the remote, underdeveloped settlement of Bippar Katari, a place so secluded that it was enveloped by thick Salleri forests on all sides. Urmila explained that her husband, a woodworker, might have chosen this isolated location for his craft. Their home was tucked into a steep hillside—a 30-minute uphill climb from the nearest neighbor, Narayan Hayu’s house. Another dwelling stood at a similar distance to the west, but beyond that, there was no contact with the outside world.
The children had to trek an hour each way to attend Mangala Secondary School in Ghoksila, the nearest school in their ward. There were no proper roads, meaning the sick had to be carried on backs when emergencies struck. Raju lamented that the lack of healthcare, education, and road access ultimately forced them to abandon their home.
A Month of Terror Before the Escape
For nearly a month, the siblings suffered sleepless nights, their bodies inexplicably shaking and burning. “We spent nights shivering, unable to sleep, only collapsing exhausted at dawn,” Raju recounted. The final straw came when their youngest sister’s hysterical episodes intensified. She demanded they purify themselves, discard their mobile SIM cards, and flee by 1 AM. In their panic, they left behind goats and chickens, not even checking if their kitchen had caught fire.
Their son-in-law, who lived in Pokhara, arranged a vehicle, and they fled in the dead of night. Though Raju had spent two years abroad and considered himself rational, the relentless torment broke his resolve. “We had no choice but to leave,” he said.
Upon reaching Pokhara, chaos followed. Within three days, police and journalists began swarming them after rumors spread. Even their own relatives urged them to vacate their rented room. The family, now 22 members strong (including two sons-in-law, distant relatives, and grandchildren), sought shelter at Ward Chairman Rabin Shrestha’s house.
But the disturbances didn’t stop. Children continued fainting and convulsing, prompting Raju to call the ward chairman at midnight to witness the horror. Only after sending the married daughters and sons-in-law away did the family find three to four days of peace.
After 17 days, Raju and his brother Lal Bahadur returned to their house—only to be stunned. Their father’s lovingly built home, the cornfields, the vegetables and fruits ripening in the garden, the lush grass—everything stood untouched. Yet, they could no longer stay.
