I am a very different person now than I was a year ago. Sure, there is a metaphysical argument to be made about the evolution of personalities and identities and whether it translates into someone being a ‘different’ person. I do not refer to this argument. Similarly, one might assume that a person evolves every day- learning something new and forgetting certain archaic irrelevances. Such routine processes might result in substantially changed identities over time. Neither do I refer to these routine processes. I am a profoundly different person than who I was a year ago- and I would argue in a positive manner. Credit where its due- this change would not have been possible without the Laidlaw Scholars Programme, the wonderful people at Rural Reconstruction Nepal, and the beautiful city of Kathmandu. I progress through this short reflection in three steps. First, I provide a brief overview of the Leadership in Action project I conducted which provides some context to the rest of the reflection. I also mention the personal reasons I opted for this route. Second, I refer to my conceptions of leadership, and how these changed throughout my time in Kathmandu and after. Finally, third, I explain how my experience helped me gain key insights into working and thriving in conditions that may be radically different to what I am used to.
First, I completed my LiA in Kathmandu, Nepal over March and April 2025. I spent this time leading a project on access to urban microfinance in the city, in association with Rural Reconstruction Nepal, the local host organisation. In short, the project dealt with educating general people about better sources of credit and investment- namely, microfinance cooperatives and organisations.
I always wanted to do a self-planned project for my LiA. For every LiA project I applied to and every charity I emailed, I asked myself two questions. First, do I envision myself learning from and enjoying the process I have signed up for? Second, will this allow my originality to shine through? The originality criterion was not for the rest of the world to see and appreciate but for myself to look and back and reflect. My initial contacts with RRN made it seem that the project I was pursuing had affirmative answers to both of the questions. I wished to do something through which I could contribute something original back to society. It was not enough for me to merely join an existing structure that functioned perfectly well without me; that, I felt, would have been a kind of selfishness—learning much, but giving little. I did not mind being a small cog in a larger machine; in fact, I found comfort in collective purpose. But I wanted to be an original cog—one that brought a distinct rhythm or insight, however modest, to the system I entered. I wanted my work to carry the faint imprint of individuality, not for recognition, but as quiet evidence that I had added something new, however small, to the project. RRN and Kathmandu provided me a brilliant opportunity to realise this.
Second, my shifting visions of leadership manifested in three different ways. First, I shifted from a sort of a relational view of leadership to a personal one. Second, I shifted from identifying leadership as a large-scale revolutionary phenomenon, classic of a politics student, to noticing it in the daily banalities of life. Third, leadership extended beyond demonstrating leadership qualities to ‘feeling’ leadership qualities.
Elaborating on the first shift, I always thought of a leader as someone who engages with others. The nature of this engagement may be such that the leader is expected to provide others with a sense of affection, dignity, direction, meaning, empathy, stability, and hope. However, this ‘nature’ is irrelevant for the shift. I always identified leaders as people who would regard other people with such qualities or a subset of them or more. Picturing a leader, I would see someone who stand among a group but still have a distinct identity. Kathmandu taught me that as much as leadership is about engaging with others, it is about leading and motivating yourself as well. My LiA project had some parts that I enjoyed very much and some others that I was not as looking forward to, but were necessary, nonetheless. For example, the basic project consisted of the collection of data about the people’s credit and saving choices, analysis, and then spreading awareness on the basis of the same. While I would actively look forward to in-office work of analysis and formulation of survey scripts and interview questions, I would not be as enthusiastic to work in the field for long periods of time. Part of the reason was that I was very uncomfortable talking to new people earlier. However, motivating myself was very important in these cases. Reminding myself that this was a good skill to have and that talking to people might give me some totally new insights which I never thought about before (which were true as evidenced in the weekly blogs posted before). In many cases, I would have done something that I would have been apprehensive of beforehand, the satisfaction I felt after the completion was a huge motivating reward. It was in this way that my vision of leadership changed from a relational to a personal concept.
Elaborating on the second shift in my vision of leadership, my visions of leadership were almost always somewhat influenced by the politics textbooks and books I read as a politics student. Across these books, I would read about elites and leaders (who although somewhat self-interested) would be leading large groups of people with a major mission and purpose. Kathmandu questioned such a conception of leadership, forcing me to look at a leader as someone who deals with the banalities of life, not necessarily a grand scheme. Someone who helps resolve and is available for everyday troubles. While the example from the previous shift still remains relevant here, there were a couple other things I wished to mention here. There were an initial couple ‘failures’ during my time at Kathmandu, as also reflected in my weekly blog posts. People were hesitant to talk to a person who wasn’t fluent in their language and was gathering data on their financial choices, even after being explained about the purpose of the survey. I mentioned this in passing to one of the colleagues of my supervisor at RRN. They remarked that the ‘failures’ hence were not mine, neither were any ‘successes’. As long as I was trying to do my best, learning from my failures, I should be personally affected by the micro-scale results of the programme. It didn’t mean to totally ignore the effects or failures, but to distance yourself personally from them. This stuck with me throughout the LiA. Moreover, while reflecting I always thought about them as someone who I shared an office space with at RRN. They were always there with some or the other advice or a one-liner joke when he saw me worried, even though we were working on totally separate projects. My conception of leadership earlier did not have a word for him. He was not leading me in my project but was still there for me. He was still a leader, although a quiet one.
The third shift combines elements from the first two shifts. Leadership, earlier, was a method of conducting an activity. It was a way people would behave in a social setting. That is, the idea of being a leader was squarely present in the leader, and not the person being led. This idea firmly changed after Kathmandu. Now, I identified the idea of leadership in them who were being led. Like in the case above, I don’t think the colleague had any intention of ‘being a leader’, but I still regarded them as such. Likewise, I realised I was leading myself after being motivated, not after trying to motivate myself.
Third, and last, the LiA gave me a brilliant opportunity to enjoy living amidst a culture that was so similar, yet so different to my own. This point remains about the culture I experienced in the city, both during work and in the time I found for leisure activities. During work, I quickly noticed that everything was not dependent on pre-made structures or institutional guarantees, but personal relationships. For example, on the first day of work, I was directly approached and asked about my family, my life in the UK, and otherwise, and about my general interests- and much deeper answers were expected than what any first British interaction would warrant. Going ahead, while coordinating for projects within the organisation I would often notice that there would be no fixed structure for evaluation. Everything will be done on a momentary basis and planning for the future was not as common- work would often arrive at just a moment’s notice. At first, a lot of this seemed chaotic and unplanned in sorts. It was initially very easy for me to get overwhelmed and just confused. However, it took some time and getting used to, but after some time I learnt to live in the moment in Kathmandu. I noticed that I was expected to honest and direct about if I could make the commitment I was informed about quite late; and it almost always was the case that saying no was totally fine. Such interactions were an important part of what I learnt during my experience. I learnt reading between the lines and often interpreting what was not said but intended.
In conclusion, my time in Kathmandu with Rural Reconstruction Nepal through the Laidlaw Scholars Programme was far more than a volunteering or research experience; it was a deeply human one. It reshaped how I perceive myself, others, and the concept of leadership. I began the journey viewing leadership as an external practice, an engagement of one’s intellect and empathy with others. I return from Kathmandu understanding leadership as something profoundly internal, lived through self-discipline, humility, and quiet conviction. I learnt that leading oneself through moments of doubt, hesitation, and discomfort is often the most challenging and rewarding form of leadership. It does not seek validation, nor does it need an audience.
Moreover, Kathmandu taught me to find beauty and purpose in the ordinary. Leadership was not confined to grand causes or institutional titles but emerged in shared laughter with colleagues, in mutual respect between strangers, and in the resilience of everyday life. It existed in the small acts of kindness and understanding that knit people together in a community. Through this, I realised that leadership is as much about feeling as it is about doing. Leadership is a lived sensitivity to the needs of others and to one’s own evolving self.
Finally, this experience grounded me in adaptability. Living and working in an environment so different from my own revealed the power of openness to people, to unpredictability, and to moments of learning that arrive unannounced. I leave with gratitude for the people who welcomed me at RRN and the people who made this possible at the Laidlaw Foundation, the challenges that tested me, and the growth that quietly took root through them. The person I was a year ago would not have understood these lessons. The person I am now cherishes them and carries them forward as enduring reminders of what true leadership, and true growth, look like. If I were asked to go back in time- back to December 2024 and advice a marginally younger and significantly inexperienced Rabhya on whether they should go to Nepal for their LiA, I would certainly encourage him to do that. The experience has been lovely, informative, and enriching. I have come out of Kathmandu as a significantly more confident person. I have come out of Kathmandu as satisfied as I could be.