Chicken Coop Diplomacy: When Madam Rana Runs a Ministry or a Brothel?

“Recently, I visited Japan, and Nepal’s embassy caught my eye—not for its diplomatic brilliance, but for its sheer, laughable size. Nestled awkwardly among the sprawling, high-tech urban jungle of Tokyo was our embassy—smaller than a chicken coop. Yes, a chicken coop.” — Madam Aarju Rana, Foreign Minister of Nepal

At first, one might applaud such candor from Nepal’s Foreign Minister, imagining this signals a bold commitment to reform and dignity. Yet, those who know the backstory of this embassy—and Madam Rana herself—will recognize a curious contradiction. This embassy is not new to Madam Rana; she has visited it many times over the years. More importantly, her mother was in charge of that very “chicken coop” in the recent past.

Throughout all those visits, Madam Rana never once publicly lamented the cramped quarters or questioned the embassy’s size. So why the sudden outcry now? Why highlight the “laughable size” of the embassy only after whispers began circulating about plans to sell or redevelop the property—plans that insiders say could line certain pockets with fat commissions?

This sharp change in rhetoric invites an uncomfortable suspicion: Is Madam Rana genuinely concerned about Nepal’s diplomatic stature, or is this a public relations smokescreen to justify private enrichment? Is the Ministry of Foreign Affairs being run as a serious institution of statecraft, or is it increasingly resembling a political brothel where commissions and patronage are the true currency?

The Chicken Coop Embassy: Symbol of Shrinking Sovereignty

Nepal’s embassy in Tokyo, squashed into a space barely larger than a chicken coop, speaks volumes about the state of our diplomacy. Diplomats from other countries work in grand edifices, showcasing their nation’s prestige, culture, and power. Meanwhile, Nepali representatives squeeze into a cramped cage, struggling to operate effectively.

This physical diminutiveness is not just embarrassing; it symbolizes the diminishing stature of Nepal on the global stage. A nation’s embassy is its claim of sovereignty abroad, a physical manifestation of its dignity and presence. Shrinking this symbol to a chicken coop sends a message of weakness and neglect — to foreign powers, and tragically, to Nepalis themselves.

Yet what makes this even more galling is that the embassy space itself is no longer just a government property. It has become a commodity, a playground for political rent-seeking. The plans to “upgrade” or sell the property are wrapped in grand promises of modernization, but at their core, they are driven by personal profiteering, masked as national interest.

A Note on Historical Dignity and the Obsession with Size

Historically, Nepal’s embassy in Japan, despite its modest size, has maintained a commendable level of dignity and respect in diplomatic relations. True diplomacy is measured not by the physical dimensions of an embassy but by the quality of engagement, mutual respect, and the effectiveness of representation. Many countries maintain small missions yet wield significant influence through skillful diplomacy and deep cultural ties.

However, for Madam Rana, it seems that size is everything. Her recent emphasis on the embassy’s “laughable” dimensions reduces complex diplomatic achievements to mere square footage. This obsession with physical grandeur risks overshadowing the substantive work done by dedicated diplomats and staff who uphold Nepal’s interests with limited resources.

Such a perspective reflects a shallow understanding of diplomacy, where appearances trump substance. While modernization and better facilities are desirable, they must never become a pretext for rent-seeking or political profiteering, which ultimately erode the very dignity Madam Rana claims to defend.

Selling Embassies and Making Millions: A Familiar Yet Escalating Scandal

Selling embassies, building new ones, and pocketing millions in commissions is hardly a new phenomenon in Nepali politics. We’ve seen it before—most notably in the embassies of Washington D.C. and New York, where past ambassadors reportedly amassed fortunes from such deals, all while official reforms remained elusive. The system tolerated these transactions quietly, swept them under the rug as if they were unavoidable peccadilloes of diplomacy.

What is truly alarming today is how this practice has shed its cloak of subtlety. The political system itself, rather than isolated individuals or rogue actors, now openly engages in these profiteering schemes. It is no longer discreet backroom deals orchestrated by ambassadors but overt, systemic corruption sanctioned—or at least tolerated—by the highest echelons of political power.

This shift from individual graft to institutionalized commission-taking signals a dangerous normalization of rent-seeking within the very architecture of governance. When selling off national assets and milking diplomatic posts for personal gain become standard operating procedures, the state itself transforms from a protector of the public good into a parasite on it.

Nepal is no longer just losing money on embassy deals—it is losing credibility, sovereignty, and the moral authority essential to functioning as a sovereign nation. The chicken coop embassy in Japan is but one symptom of this systemic decay, a vivid reminder that without urgent reform, the state risks becoming little more than a marketplace for political profiteers.

Parasitic Politics and the Commission Mentality

This is the ugly reality of parasitic politics that plagues Nepal. Political elites treat the state’s assets — embassies, ministries, lands, contracts — not as public trust but as private ATM machines. Every deal becomes a chance to extract commissions, every project a potential feeding trough.

The “commission mentality” runs deep in Nepali political culture. It creates a vicious cycle: public offices are handed out as favors; officials expect kickbacks for their work; honest service is sidelined. Citizens watch helplessly as their government turns into a marketplace for corruption.

The Foreign Ministry’s chicken coop embassy is just one small yet vivid example. Here, the contradictions are glaring: the minister publicly mocks the embassy’s size while rumored to be orchestrating deals that would financially benefit her and her close circle. This is not leadership; it is a cynical exploitation of public trust.

When Public Service Becomes Private Enterprise

Sociologists tell us that institutions are more than buildings or bureaucracies; they are the physical and symbolic scaffolds that hold society together. Embassies especially are key sites where national identity and sovereignty are performed and asserted. When such institutions become privatized, either literally or figuratively, society’s trust fractures.

Madam Rana’s recent statements ring hollow because they expose a larger truth — the Foreign Ministry is caught between its constitutional duty and the lure of private gain. Nepalis are confused and disillusioned because the Ministry meant to represent the nation abroad increasingly operates like a patronage shop, serving a select few rather than the public.

This confusion is not accidental. It is a feature of parasitic politics, where blurring the line between public office and private profit creates space for unchecked corruption and erodes democratic accountability.

The National Implications: Sovereignty on Sale?

Nepal’s geopolitical position is delicate, sandwiched between two giants. Its diplomatic missions abroad are critical for asserting independent foreign policy and attracting development, trade, and investment. But what happens when the very symbol of that diplomacy becomes a site of corruption and scandal?

The chicken coop embassy, surrounded by rumors of property deals and commissions, signals to foreign governments that Nepal’s institutions lack stability and seriousness. Worse, it erodes Nepalis’ own faith in their government’s capacity to protect national interests.

Is sovereignty just an empty slogan if foreign missions are reduced to transactional real estate deals? Is national pride compatible with politicians who profit while public assets shrink?

A Call for Accountability and Reform

Nepal deserves a Foreign Ministry and diplomatic missions that inspire confidence and respect — not suspicion and ridicule. This means:

– Appointing diplomats and officials based on merit, not patronage.
– Ensuring transparency in all property deals and contracts.
– Empowering independent oversight bodies to investigate corruption without fear or favor.
– Cultivating a political culture that values public service over personal gain.

Only through such reforms can the embassy in Tokyo shed its chicken coop image and truly represent the pride and dignity of Nepal.

Conclusion: Reclaiming Nepal’s Dignity

The tiny embassy in Tokyo is more than a cramped office; it is a mirror reflecting Nepal’s political and institutional crises. Madam Rana’s public words about its size highlight a problem everyone sees, but her suspected private involvement in questionable deals exposes a deeper malaise.

Nepalis deserve better than ministries run like brothels of political patronage, better than embassies sold off for commissions, and better than sovereignty diminished to real estate transactions.

The time has come to demand transparency, professionalism, and accountability — to turn the chicken coop into a true embassy worthy of Nepal’s history, culture, and aspirations.

Author  Subedi is a Professor of medical sociology at Miami University, USA