What it has not yet fully solved is the harder problem: turning those licenses into running turbines, those approved transmission corridors into energized lines, and those royalty projections into reliable revenue for communities that have waited decades to see the rivers outside their windows become something more than scenery.

The numbers coming out of the Department of Electricity Development this fiscal year are, on their face, impressive. Ninety-nine hydropower projects. Seven solar installations. Thousands of circuit kilometers of transmission lines. Billions in royalties. If you read the data at surface level, Nepal looks like a country on the verge of an energy revolution.
But data without context can mislead. And in Nepal's energy sector, context is everything.
In fiscal year 2082/83 alone, the department issued survey licenses to 99 hydropower projects carrying a combined capacity of 3,211 megawatts. Add seven solar projects worth another 311 megawatts, and the single-year pipeline looks extraordinary — over 3,500 megawatts of potential energy waiting to be explored.
Survey licenses, however, are the earliest and least demanding stage of the project development process. They grant a developer the right to study a site — to measure water flows, assess geology, and evaluate feasibility. They do not mean shovels are in the ground. They do not mean financing is secured. They do not mean a single watt of electricity will actually be produced.
Nepal has a well-documented history of survey licenses being issued in large numbers, sitting idle for years, and eventually lapsing without a single transformer being installed. The question that the department's annual figures cannot answer — but that investors, policymakers, and electricity consumers desperately need answered — is how many of these 99 projects will still be alive five years from now.
If survey licenses represent hope, production licenses represent commitment. This year, 29 hydropower projects and three solar projects cleared that higher bar, receiving full generation licenses with a combined capacity of 1,857 megawatts in hydro and 31 megawatts in solar.
These are projects that have completed feasibility studies, satisfied environmental requirements, and convinced regulators they are ready to build. That is a meaningfully different status than a survey license, and the 1,888 megawatts in combined new production approvals is a genuinely significant addition to the pipeline.
Yet even here, the gap between license and reality matters. Construction in Nepal's remote river valleys is expensive, logistically brutal, and frequently delayed by weather, land disputes, and financing gaps. A production license is a green light — but it does not guarantee anyone actually drives through.
Step back from the single-year data and the cumulative numbers become almost staggering. The department has, to date, issued generation licenses for 264 hydropower projects with a total capacity of 12,336 megawatts. Solar adds another 10 projects and 74.6 megawatts.
To put that in perspective: Nepal's current total installed electricity generation capacity is estimated at roughly 3,000 to 3,500 megawatts. The licensed pipeline is nearly four times that figure.
This creates an obvious and important question. If Nepal has licensed 12,336 megawatts of hydropower, why is the country still experiencing power shortages, struggling to meet domestic industrial demand, and only beginning to meaningfully export electricity to India?
The answer lies in the brutal reality of project execution. Licensing a project and building a project are separated by years of financing negotiations, construction contracts, equipment imports, environmental mitigation, and community relations — all in some of the most challenging terrain on earth. Many licensed projects are stalled at various stages. Some are in active construction. Others exist largely on paper.
Perhaps the most technically significant — and least publicly discussed — data in the department's report concerns transmission infrastructure. The cumulative approvals tell a story of massive planned investment: 1,097 circuit kilometers of 400 kV high-voltage lines, 656 kilometers of 220 kV lines, 1,608 kilometers of 132 kV lines, and 337 kilometers of 33 kV distribution lines.
This matters enormously because transmission is where Nepal's energy ambitions most frequently collide with hard physical reality. You can build a hydropower plant in a remote gorge, but if there is no transmission line to carry that electricity to a load center — or to the Indian border for export — the plant sits generating power that goes nowhere.
The 400 kV approvals are particularly significant. High-voltage transmission at that capacity is essential for bulk power export to India and for moving electricity across Nepal's own mountainous geography. The fact that over 1,097 circuit kilometers have received approval suggests the infrastructure planning is at least moving in the right direction — but approvals and construction are, again, very different things.
The department's royalty collection figure — approximately Rs 3.5 billion annually — deserves its own analysis. This revenue stream, distributed to provincial and local governments, represents one of the most direct and tangible ways that large-scale energy development translates into local benefit.
In theory, the communities living along the rivers that power Nepal's hydroelectric plants should see some of that royalty money flowing back into local roads, schools, health posts, and infrastructure. In practice, the effectiveness of that distribution depends heavily on the governance capacity of the receiving local governments — some of which manage these funds well, and others of which do not.
Director General Mandevi Shrestha's highlighting of this royalty channel as a development contribution is appropriate. But it also raises a question worth asking: are the communities most directly affected by reservoir flooding, construction disruption, and environmental change actually receiving a fair share of these royalties? That is a conversation Nepal's energy policy needs to have more openly.
Read together, the department's figures for 2082/83 paint a picture of a sector that is busy — issuing licenses, processing applications, expanding the regulatory pipeline at an impressive rate. That activity is not nothing. Regulatory momentum matters, and a government department that is processing applications efficiently is doing its job.
But the deeper story is one of a persistent and widening gap between ambition and execution. Nepal has licensed enough hydropower to become one of South Asia's major electricity exporters. It collects royalties that could meaningfully fund local development. It has mapped out transmission corridors that could carry power from the Himalayas to the plains.
What it has not yet fully solved is the harder problem: turning those licenses into running turbines, those approved transmission corridors into energized lines, and those royalty projections into reliable revenue for communities that have waited decades to see the rivers outside their windows become something more than scenery.
The numbers are impressive. The execution remains the story still being written.
Written by
Dipesh Ghimire
