Skip to main content

New generation of Bhutanese Entrepreneurs

And until we stop importing so much goods and services from India, we won’t be able to solve Indian Rupee shortage that we face today. Given the small population that we have compared to one of the most populated countries on the planet, it is both a blessing and a curse; blessing because we do not need to import as much, but if our population is big, we would end up importing much more than what we currently do. However, it is curse in that being a small country, we are unable to produce as much as we should to counter huge demand both at home and India.
Do we need to import these stuff?

If we are able to produce at good speed and quality, we have a ready and a big market in India. But this is not so. One thing that impedes this is lack of our capacity to inspire more people to build more industries. And because there are not many production houses, what we produce here is far more expensive than those produced in India. That's why our business houses do not have advantage and the inspiration of producing goods here. In the process, they end up importing more and more of goods that are made in India and cater to Bhutanese markets. That's how the need for Indian rupee heightens.
We can't help without crude oil
So, we need to promote entrepreneurship at all levels. People who dare to start new businesses must be rewarded with government support in building physical infrastructure and tax exemption. The products that they come up with must be given preference in the market. The government of the day, as they are doing already, must continue to support such initiatives and create enough awareness on the need to go local. The government also must explain to our people that it is important to buy our own products. And I am sure at some point we will achieve self-sufficiency - one product at a time.
We need to promote people who dare like this
Other factor that drains our Indian rupee reserve is our heavy dependence on Indian workforce in the construction industry. Bhutan failed to attract its people in what it calls blue-collared jobs. I think we are unsuccessful until now because we are making such jobs menial and low. That is all to do with marketing and branding of such ideas. In the first place, we must not have called it blue-collared jobs. That makes all the difference. 

Youth Innovation 
If their children land up in the so-called blue-collared jobs, parents feel that their children's education until now has been wasted. And these parents have always dreamed that their children would one day go on to become some important officers in the government offices. 
Now in the museum?
One thing that we all should be proud is the new generation of Bhutanese who have entered construction industry. These youth have braved the odd and have gone onto become the builders of our future. They do not fear reputation. At some day in future, we would be able to employ our own people in major projects including hydro-power projects, which until now have used only Indian labor. And we also have young educated Bhutanese opting to become entrepreneurs. 

Likewise in the museum 
Good times are ahead for this country! 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Our throw-it-away culture

Like all grandparents, my late grandma would call food 'tsampa rimpoche' and any fuss made about it would invite everyone's sneer and scoldings. Food is always treated with respect and is never wasted. "If you waste food in any manner," she would admonish us. "One day food will discard you and you will go hungry." 
What remained from the previous meal would be turned either into porridge or sometimes leftover rice would be dried in the sun. The dried rice would then be fried into puffed rice and consumed with cups of suja. When there was so much food left, especially during big events, leftover rice or kharang would be mixed with a small amount of yeast and brewed into ara.  
The only thing that I can vividly recollect from my primary school days is how we would be hungry most of the time. Food we were served was hardly enough to tickle our throats. We would be sent home only once a week on Saturdays and that was our opportunity to replenish our popcorn s…

Alive and kicking

This feels like ages since I last posted anything here. That shows how inactive I have become on my blog. It is such a pain to let it go empty, day after day. And I am sure that all bloggers share the same sentiments.

I have attempted to blog about something for a long time now, only to find myself failing to do so. Maybe that is my laziness. But sometimes, there is nothing new or interesting to blog about. Topics are crucial. As far as my idea of blogging goes, a post cannot be a mere record of personal events - everyday affairs - although there can be blogs about such topics and interests. For example, the one I am writing now - has nothing about anything in particular,  besides citing some personal excuses.

Bhutan is going through yet another interesting era in that we have just had our third parliamentary elections and the new government is in place. I take this opportunity to welcome the new government and a new set of cabinet members, the speaker of the National Assembly and th…

The Story Thief

When we were growing up in a small village in the central Bhutan, we would gather around our grandparents every evening in a room that would be dimly lit with a kerosene lamp. Our grandparents or the elderly members of the family would then take turns to entertain us (siblings and cousins who lived under the same roof) with their stories. Such was the only form of entertainment we had had then.  
Our grandparents would start their stories, which they probably would have heard them from their grandparents. A young poor boy becomes a successful farmer by a turn of luck, a man fights a bear, a poor boy accidentally marries a rich man's beautiful daughter, a lame monkey helps a boy find great wealth, a rooster regrets his action after he mistakenly accuses his wife and young men go on business trips to buy cattle, among many others. We grew up listening to many such stories. Sometimes, the storyteller would narrate the same story again and again, and yet every time it sounded more magi…