Nepal’s workers just got a raise, but most didn’t even notice. This article explores the reality behind the new minimum wages in Nepal and why it may not be just enough.

It’s Shrawan 1. The first day of the new financial year. Somewhere in Bhaktapur, a woman working at a garment factory hears the news that the minimum wage in Nepal has gone up. She shrugs, wipes sweat off her forehead, and goes back to stitching the collar on the 57th shirt of the day.

She doesn’t ask how much more she’ll be getting.
She doesn’t ask when it’ll kick in.
Because in her experience, not much really changes.

Her rent is still due in full. Eggs are still Rs. 200 a dozen. And the bus conductor never waits for wage revisions.

Every two years, the government announces that the minimum wage has increased, with numbers that sound like progress. But ask anyone earning that wage and you’ll hear the same thing: “Yes, it went up. But have you seen the prices?”

It’s like getting a spoon of water when your house is on fire.

So today, let’s break down how this system actually works. Why the minimum wage in Nepal is supposed to be reviewed every two years. What the law says. Who decides the number? And most importantly, whether it truly helps the people it's meant for.

Because behind that single headline: “Government increases minimum wage by 13%”, is a complicated story that deserves to be told simply, clearly, and honestly.

What the Labour Act Says, and Where It Slips

Let’s start with the rulebook.

According to Section 106 and 107 of Nepal’s Labour Act, 2074, the government is required to revise the minimum remuneration for workers every two years. Yes, that’s right,  not just whenever they feel like it. Every. Two. Years.

Here’s how it’s supposed to work:

• A special committee, made up of government officials, trade union representatives, and employer groups, sits down and recommends a new minimum wage.
• The Ministry of Labour then officially fixes the new rate, even stepping in to decide directly if the committee can’t reach an agreement.
• Once finalized, the updated wage must be published in the Nepal Gazette; a kind of official government announcement.
• And then, the new wage must come into effect from Shrawan 1, the first day of Nepal’s fiscal year.

Sounds good, right?

But here’s where the problem begins.

This year, the revised minimum wage wasn’t announced before Shrawan 1 like it should’ve been. Instead, the decision was . No advance notice. No consultation. No explanation.

Imagine you're an employer. You open your office on Shrawan 1 and suddenly, boom: you’re legally expected to increase your workers’ wages. No prep time, no budget forecast. Just a “figure it out” approach.

On paper, the Labour Act looks solid. But the way it’s executed? Not so much.

The Mysterious Committee Behind the Numbers

Now let’s talk about the people behind the scenes.

The Labour Act sets up something called the Minimum Remuneration Fixation Committee, a group made up of three parties:

• The Government of Nepal
• Trade Unions (representing workers)
• Employers’ Associations (representing businesses)

Their job is to recommend the new minimum wage in Nepal every two years. They’re allowed to set a national rate, or different rates for specific industries or regions if they think that makes more sense.

Sounds reasonable. But here’s the kicker:

There’s no public record of how they come up with the final number.

No minutes from the meetings, no explanation of the math, nothing..
Just a number.

This year, it was a 13% hike.

Why 13%? Was it based on inflation? Cost of living? Productivity growth? Union demands? Employer capacity?
We don’t know.
And we’re not told.

It could’ve been 9%. Or 17%. Or the result of someone just rounding up from 12.6%.

That’s the scary part.

A decision that affects millions of working Nepalis, from construction workers in Dhangadhi to hotel staff in Pokhara, is being made inside a black box, with zero transparency.

And yet, this is the figure that decides whether someone can afford both rent and food this month.

The Cost of Survival: Does the New Wage Cover It?

So, the government says workers are getting a raise. The minimum wage in Nepal has been bumped up to around Rs. 19,550 per month. That’s roughly Rs. 754 a day, assuming you're working 26 days a month.

But let’s set that number aside for a second and talk about real life. What does it actually cost to live in a place like Kathmandu in 2025?

Some basics, based on recent cost-of-living data:

• A kilo of rice? Around Rs. 117
• A dozen eggs? Rs. 219
• Rent for a modest 1-bedroom flat in the city? At least Rs. 12,000, but often much more
• Monthly internet? Rs. 1,254
• Local transport? Rs. 1,500
• Add in basic groceries, electricity, mobile recharge, maybe one school-going child, and you’re easily looking at over Rs. 22,000 a month

Now stack that against a minimum wage earner’s Rs. 19,550.

Even if you remove all the extras; forget eating out, buying clothes, saving, or seeing a doctor, just getting through the month takes more than the full paycheck.

And this is assuming you’re in full-time, formal employment. Most workers earning minimum wage don’t even have that luxury. They’re in contract jobs, informal setups, daily wages, and if they fall sick for a few days, there goes the rent money.

To give some context, the national average monthly salary in Nepal is Rs. 29,249, according to Numbeo. Which means a minimum wage worker earns about 40% less than the average Nepali worker, and in cities, the gap feels even wider.

A minimum wage might tick the legal box. But it’s not nearly enough to live with dignity.

The Arbitrary Math of a National Policy

Now let’s talk about something that doesn’t quite sit right.

Nepal uses one national minimum wage for everyone; regardless of where you live, what you do, or how skilled you are.

Whether you’re a porter in Rukum, a security guard in Kathmandu, or a trained electrician in Hetauda, your minimum wage is exactly the same.

There’s no difference between skilled and unskilled roles.
No adjustment for higher-cost cities.
No automatic update when inflation spikes.

And there’s no official explanation either. The Labour Act requires the minimum wage to be reviewed every two years, but it doesn’t lay out a formula. The committee that recommends the number; made up of government, unions, and employer groups, has full discretion. But they don’t explain how they arrive at the final figure.

This year, they landed on a 13% increase. But whether that number reflects rising prices, economic growth, or just a compromise across the table, nobody really knows.

In most countries, the process is much more structured. India, for example, adjusts minimum wages based on region, industry, and skill level. Canada uses inflation-based formulas. Australia uses job classification systems. But Nepal still relies on a single number for everyone, with no breakdown, no tiers, and no published reasoning.

It’s a big decision with real consequences, but the way it’s made feels oddly detached from the lives it impacts.

When the Law Exists But Doesn’t Reach People

Even after all that, there’s one more problem. One that might be the most important of all.

A significant number of workers in Nepal don’t actually receive the minimum wage, even though the law says they should.

Some employers find ways around it. Some just ignore it. And for people working in domestic jobs, small farms, or informal settings, asking for the legal minimum often feels impossible. Don’t believe us? Just check out Salary Inbox, and you’ll see how many people working full-time jobs are paid far less than what the law promises.

Let’s take Rita, for example. She’s a housemaid in Lalitpur. Works twelve hours a day, six days a week. Her monthly salary? Rs. 8,000. She doesn’t have a contract. No payslip. No one’s explained to her that she’s supposed to be paid almost twice that amount under the law.

She’s never heard of Shrawan 1, or the Nepal Gazette, or the Labour Act. For her, the entire wage revision is something that happens on the news, not in her life.

And honestly, even if she wanted to complain, where would she go?

Nepal doesn’t have nearly enough labour inspectors to monitor wage compliance. There’s no simple app, portal, or hotline to report violations. And let’s be real, most workers earning low wages can’t afford to miss a day of work just to chase a government office.

So while the wage itself might be revised every two years, the right to that wage often doesn’t reach the people who need it most.

And that’s not just a policy gap. That’s a justice gap.

How Nepal Compares: The Regional Picture

When you zoom out and look at how other countries handle minimum wages, one thing becomes clear pretty quickly. Nepal is playing with a blunt instrument while the rest of the world has moved on to precision tools.

Let’s start with India, which has one of the most complex systems in the region.

There’s no single national number. Instead, every state sets its own rates, and even within a state, wages vary by zone (metro, district, rural) and skill level (unskilled to highly skilled). In Delhi, for example, an unskilled worker earns around INR 15,600/month (~NPR 25,800), and a skilled worker can earn more than INR 18,000 (~NPR 30,000).

Compare that to Nepal’s flat Rs. 19,550, and you start to see the gap.

Then there’s Bangladesh, where wages are mostly set sector by sector. The garment industry, their biggest export, has a tailored wage structure. It’s not perfect, but at least there’s an effort to link wages to specific industries and working conditions.

Sri Lanka works in a similar way. There is no single national minimum wage Instead, tripartite wage boards; comprising representatives from government, employers, and workers, set minimum wages for over 40 different trades, tailoring pay scales to the realities of each sector.

South Africa has a national minimum wage, but it also allows for sectoral collective agreements, temporary exemptions for struggling businesses, and detailed annual adjustments tied to inflation, GDP, and cost of living, making it more nuanced than Nepal’s flat rate.

And then we have Nepal, where the same wage applies to a hotel worker in Kathmandu, a tea picker in Ilam, and a construction laborer in Dhangadhi.

If you convert Nepal’s minimum wage into USD, it comes out to roughly $130/month, putting us among the lowest in the region for formal sector wages, despite rising living costs in urban centers.

In short: most countries are moving toward differentiated, data-driven, and inflation-adjusted wage systems. Nepal, meanwhile, is still trying to make one number work for an entire nation.

Where Do We Go From Here? Rethinking the Wage Playbook

Let’s stop here for a moment and ask the obvious question:

Does Nepal’s current minimum wage system make sense anymore?

Because right now, it feels like we’re just tweaking the same old system every two years; a little more here, a little more there, without fixing the things that actually matter.

If we really want the minimum wage in Nepal to mean something; not just legally, but practically, then here are five things we seriously need to consider:

1. Start with a Transparent Formula

Tie the wage calculation to inflation, cost of living, and economic productivity. Publish the reasoning. Show the math. Let everyone; the workers, the employers, and the economists see how the number came to be.

2. Introduce Regional and Sectoral Bands

Life in Kathmandu is nothing like life in Mahendranagar. And a trained electrician shouldn’t be paid the same as someone learning on the job. India, Australia, even China manage multi-tier wage systems. Nepal can too.

3. Link Wages to Real-World Prices Automatically

Set up a system where minimum wages are adjusted every year, not every two, based on inflation or CPI data from Nepal Rastra Bank. That way, we’re not constantly playing catch-up.

4. Use Tech to Enforce It

Right now, wage enforcement depends on inspections, which are rare. But what if platforms like  or other digital tools like My Salary Slip could help verify whether workers are actually getting what they’re owed? Add traceable payroll records. Make salary payments transparent and accountable.

5. Build a Living Wage Calculator

Have the Ministry of Labour publish what it actually costs to live; by region, by household size, and compare that with the legal minimum. Make it public. Use it to track whether policy is keeping up with reality.

Because if your rent goes up every year, your salary can’t just sit still.

A System That’s Both Late and Blind

Remember the woman from Bhaktapur we started with?

On Shrawan 1, the government raised the minimum wage.
But she didn’t celebrate.
She didn’t even know it had happened.

And maybe that’s the most telling part.

When a wage hike is announced without notice, calculated without clarity, and implemented without enforcement, it stops being a solution and starts becoming a formality.

The Labour Act says the wage must be revised. So we revise it.
The committee sits. The Gazette prints. The number changes.

But in real life? For many workers, nothing changes.

And so we’re left with a hard question:

Are we actually raising wages in Nepal?

Or are we just raising hope without the structure, the transparency, or the intent to make sure that hope turns into something real?