Radio: My Lifelong Companion

Unlike cities and towns, places in remote, rural parts of Nepal are not hustling and bustling with life. Life is a lot more about laboring to meet basic needs for survival and sustenance, more slow paced and dull with the repetition of chores and a lack of entertainment and enthusiasm for life.

Often homes in these rural areas are long distances apart and life is dictated by the rising and setting of the sun. Living in these hills can be isolating and weigh heavily on those who long for more connection. This is when a simple object like a radio can become an extraordinary companion, offering a person entertainment, joy, and conversations to diminish the dullness of life.

This was true for Mahani Sunar, a resident of Daldehura, now aged 76, who recalls when Afno FM began broadcasting in Dadeldhura and professes that he has remained an avid listener ever since. Through all of his life’s troubles, hardships and complications, the radio became a companion like no other. He does not go a single day without listening to the radio and finds it impossible to work without it. He spends around NPR 3,000 every month on batteries to listen to his radio. He has collected all of his used batteries over the years and keeps them like a trophy—showcasing his attachment and love he has for our radio.

Mahani considers Afno FM to be his biggest cheerleader, and appreciates all the songs, awareness programs and radio content broadcast in the regional language. It has generated within him a deep sense of belonging. The radio, he professed, has been his lifeline and has brought him great joy, peace and comfort.

Mahani Sunar’s deep bond with Afno FM speaks to the power of the effect our radio programs can have on a person, as he confesses, “The radio is my companion for life, dearly beloved to me, even more than my family.” He also believes that because Afno FM was the first radio station in Dadeldhura District, he may not be the only one with this unusual and extraordinary sentiment. For many others in Nepal’s remote corners, where roads lead into silence and evenings settle without the glow of city lights, the radio is more than sound—it is presence, connection, and the comfort of knowing someone, somewhere, is speaking just for them.