The Awakening
James Spence's first journey to Nepal. While trekking near the world's tallest mountains, James snapped his Achilles tendon and was taken to a Tibetan refugee camp. For three weeks, he experienced the profound compassion of the Tibetan people as they cared for him until a plane could evacuate him to a hospital in Pokhara.
This experience planted a seed that would grow into something much larger. The kindness shown by people who had so little themselves left an indelible mark on James's heart. He would return to Nepal — twice more before everything changed.
Street Children of Kathmandu
Podcast with James Spence
Recorded for Witchcliffe Fundraiser, 2025
Listen to the complete, unedited conversation with FTEN founder James Spence. Hear the full plastic bags story, learn about the children we help, discover how the organization evolved from emergency response to sustainable education program, and explore some of James's remarkable life journey that led him to Nepal.
Podcast Chapters:
- 0:00 - 0:05 - Introduction
- 0:05 - 0:20 - Who We Help & Current Operations
- 0:20 - 0:35 - The Plastic Bags Story (2013 Encounter) ⭐
- 0:35 - 0:50 - 2015 Earthquakes & Founding FTEN
- 0:50 - 1:10 - The Children's Answer & Growth
- 1:10 - 1:35 - Current Programs & Bikram's Role
- 1:35 - 2:00 - Bonus: James's Life Journey & Adventures
This podcast features an unfiltered conversation between host Monty Sforcina and James Spence, showcasing James's authentic voice, genuine passion for the work, and the personal journey that shaped FTEN's mission.
James's third trip to Nepal. Late one night in early February 2013, returning to his guesthouse along Z Street in Kathmandu after an evening out, James rounded a corner and noticed a small fire burning at the end of the street. Around 1am, 3–4°C. He thought: what a good idea.
As he drew closer, the silhouettes around the fire turned out not to be men. They were boys — and as his eyes adjusted he could see they were wearing only t-shirts, shorts and thongs. Nothing else. In the cold that James was rugged up against, these kids had nothing.
What they were doing was taking turns — moving from a large pile of plastic bags, placing one on the fire, then all of them hunching over it together to catch as much heat as possible, breathing in the thick black smoke that poured off the burning plastic. The oldest looked about 12 or 13. The youngest, 6 or 7.
James tried. He swung his arms, pleaded with them to stop burning the plastic — the fumes were poisonous. They took no notice. They were freezing. They were not in a position to listen.
Then he noticed the pile of bags was moving. He lifted a corner. Curled underneath, clutching the plastic tightly to his chest and shivering violently, was another child — so cold James genuinely feared for him.
He wanted to give them everything he was wearing. He didn't — not enough for all of them — and walked back to his room. He couldn't sleep. In the morning, he hatched a plan.
Within the hour he was at the Assam Markets, where he bought eight metres of the thickest woollen rug material he could find and had it cut into four two-metre squares — one for each of the four boys he'd seen. He convinced the shopkeeper to sew the hems for free, as a contribution to the street kids. The shopkeeper tied the finished rugs on James's back and he carried them home and waited until evening.
That night he returned to Z Street with four rugs. Seven children arrived — three more than the night before. He could only offer the extra three a hot cup of chai. But for those four kids, it was a warm woollen rug each. A hessian bag of plastic was sacrificed to the fire that night instead.
In the weeks that followed, James became friends with these boys and others like them — listening to their stories, learning how they survived. Most were Dalits from Bihar, India, one of the most impoverished regions on Earth. They had come to Kathmandu to work — collecting plastic bags, bottles, cardboard and scrap metal through the night, pushing it all into massive hessian sacks, selling it by the kilo to a depot once a month. A team of four could earn around $213 AUD per month between them. Not nothing. Enough to survive on, and to hold onto the hope of one day returning home with enough to build a small house on family land.
Among those four boys were two brothers. James is still in contact with them today.
Instead of continuing his trek, James stayed in Kathmandu for three months, helping where he could. It wasn't organised aid. It was one person refusing to look away.
Three months wasn't enough. James returned to Australia knowing he would come back.
Earthquakes and a Decision
April 2015: A massive earthquake devastated Nepal. James sold everything he owned in Mullumbimby, Australia—his Land Cruiser, his tools, everything—to raise money for relief efforts.
He spent three and a half months in the mountains working with emergency teams, helping build 328 emergency shelters before the monsoon season. He brought 200 tablets for cholera prevention and worked alongside soldiers and local teams in Dhading and other affected areas.
But James hadn't forgotten the children from 2013. On his return after four months in the country, he searched Kathmandu for the street kids he'd met. He found them—they were okay. But Australian supporters had also given him photographs of other children and families he didn't know, along with $500 AUD to deliver to one specific family. A young man named Rajiv offered to help locate them.
Some were in Kathmandu. Others were in two villages outside the city—one on a main road, another a 10-kilometer walk higher into the Himalayan foothills. The family up higher had lost their father, crushed in their house during the earthquake. Handing over the $500 was dangerous—that much money could make a family a target. It had to be done discreetly, over two visits, with the neighbors watching. The mother understood the risk. When they finally managed it safely, she gave a smile that told them everything was okay.
September 2015: James asked the children he'd found: "Who wants to go to school?" They took two weeks to answer. When they did, James was stunned—almost moved to tears. The oldest boy, just 13 (the smallest of the group, but speaking for all of them with quiet authority), said: "We are too old to go to school. But could you help our younger brothers, sisters, and friends?"
James replied: "Well, take me to your friends and I will ask them." They did. With only six months of education available before his visa expired, James enrolled them anyway.
As his plane left Kathmandu, James made a commitment that would define the next decade of his life: These children deserve more than six months. They deserve a real chance.
Freedom Through Education Nepal was born.
Building Momentum
Back in Australia, James began fundraising in earnest. He'd had a market stall since 2015 — first at the Melville Markets, then at South Street Beaconsfield Farmers Markets, almost every Sunday for the next decade — selling handmade items, Tibetan art, and sharing FTEN's story with anyone who would listen. In 2016 that groundwork paid off: Julian Silburn and friends organised FTEN's first fundraiser concert at the Palmyra Off The Wall yoga studio, raising $3,000 — the catalyst that enabled 12 more children to start school. The grassroots model was working.
Returning to Nepal for five months, James renewed enrollment for the original seven children and enrolled 12 more, bringing the total to 19 children in school. Working alongside a sympathetic friend — a former soldier who became his translator — James built systems for identifying families in need and ensuring children stayed in school.
Beyond School Fees: Medical Emergencies
Kanti Children's Hospital, 2016
Kanti Children's Hospital, Kathmandu 2016
When a child needed stitches, FTEN took him to Kanti Children's Hospital in Kathmandu. It wasn't in any formal scope of work. It was simply what needed to be done. This pattern — responding to medical emergencies as they arose, using whatever resources were available — became a defining feature of how FTEN operated in the field.
The Man Crossing the Road
Three months of daily care
Wound care at a Kathmandu hospital clinic
James was crossing a busy street in Kathmandu with Bikesh and Kailash when he noticed an elderly man struggling to get across. He asked Bikesh and Kailash to help the man and find out what had happened to his foot. The man had come down from the mountains looking for work — not used to the intensity of Kathmandu's packed streets and broken footpaths — and a car had run over his foot. Police had roughly wrapped a bandage around it and moved on.
James took him to a hospital. The doctor's assessment was grim: the foot was flayed. The best option was a skin graft. For the next three months, James, Bikesh or Kailash went to the hospital every morning and every afternoon to ensure the man had food and anything the hospital required. Eventually he was discharged — still recovering, but genuinely happy to be leaving. James gave him money for the bus journey and put him on a bus back to his village in the mountains.
The project was growing, but it was still just one person — and whoever he could bring alongside him — refusing to give up.
Expanding Reach
James returned to Nepal for another five-month period, adding more children to the program. But 2017 became memorable for a different reason: FTEN began demonstrating that its mission extended beyond school fees.
Spotlight: Padam's Journey
A Story of Dignity, Healing, and Hope
Padam was a leprosy patient living in desperate circumstances with his blind wife and young daughter. When James met them, they were living underground—literally three meters below ground level in dark, damp conditions that worsened Padam's health.
For five months, FTEN supported Padam's entire family while he received treatment at the Anandaban Leprosy Hospital. But support didn't end with medical care. Working with the local church Padam's wife attended, James helped the family find a clean, dry room on higher ground—safer, healthier, and filled with light.
Padam learned to make candles and soap, gaining skills for sustainable income. His daughter enrolled in school through FTEN. What started as medical intervention became a complete transformation of a family's trajectory.
This is what "freedom through education" really means: addressing the whole family, the whole person, with dignity and respect.
Spotlight: Underground Living
The Hidden Reality of Extreme Poverty
Mukesh, Puja and a friend in the underground corridor at Kalimati
A family home in the Kalimati community
A shaft of natural light from the outside
A mother cooking in her underground home, greeting her children who attend school through FTEN
Many families FTEN works with live in conditions most people can't imagine: underground, in spaces excavated below street level. These "homes" are dark, damp and often breeding grounds for disease. Plastic is often burnt for warmth or cooking (no access to burning materials and gas stoves often too expensive) within a closed non-ventilated space.
No natural light. Water seepage. Mold. Bed bugs are also common. This is where many families of the Dalit caste live permanently.
The Bagmati River — Kathmandu's slow-moving open sewer. Many of the families FTEN works with live nearby.
Three Weeks of Daily Wound Care
Saving a man's legs after the 2015 earthquakes
One man in the community had sustained severe leg injuries in the 2015 earthquakes. For three weeks, James went daily to his underground home, cleaning the wounds with saline solution, treating the infection with antiseptic, and dressing them with light cotton bandages — while teaching the family how to continue the care themselves. By 2018, the man could walk. He does his one job: collecting recyclable materials from the streets of Kathmandu as a plastic picker — the work of many Dalit men in the city. He couldn't do that without his legs.
🎵 Building Community Support: Fundraising Events
FTEN's sustainability comes from grassroots community support in Australia. Since 2016, James has run a market stall almost every Sunday at the South Street Beaconsfield Farmers Markets (and before that at the Melville Markets from 2015), selling handmade items and Tibetan art and sharing FTEN's story. Over 11 years, 13 concerts and numerous other community events have raised over $120,000 AUD.
Event highlights include a cinema night, a wine and cheese afternoon at James's sister's backyard in Bayswater that raised ~$2,000, and one standout night that brought in $6,000 through the sale of Tibetan Buddhist artworks. One person's market stall, replicated across years, has been the quiet engine behind it all.
Many events featured sales of traditional Tibetan Buddhist art sourced from artisans in Kathmandu, adding cultural connection to fundraising efforts.
🎶 Witchcliffe, 2025 — Sam's Chapel
A snapshot of performers from the Margaret River regional fundraiser. Around 40 locals, $2,000 raised.
A Year of Comprehensive Impact
2018 marked a turning point for FTEN, demonstrating that the organisation had evolved far beyond simply paying school fees. This year showcased the holistic reality of the work: education, health, safety, skills training, and crisis intervention — often all at once.
Health Partnership
FTEN partnered with a medical team to run a comprehensive health camp, screening 435 children for medical issues.
In Memory: Puja Poddar
For young women in these communities, ambition alone is not enough to survive
Puja's story is not exceptional in the world she came from. It is representative. Young women from Dalit migrant communities in Kathmandu — without family protection, without legal standing, without economic independence — face compounding dangers the moment they try to exist on their own terms. FTEN could build a room, fund art classes, and find a watchful landlady. It could not change the world she had to navigate the moment she stepped outside that room. This is what that looks like.
Puja Poddar with family members, Kathmandu 2018
Among the four boys James had given woollen rugs to on Z Street in 2013 were two brothers. James stayed in contact with them over the years. Their younger sister, Puja Poddar, was one of FTEN's students: consistently at the top of her class, with a school principal who believed she was a future scholarship candidate. She told James she wanted to be a teacher.
Then, in 2018, the family were called back to India suddenly. Their mother had died under tragic and complicated circumstances. With the mother gone — she had held the family together — the weight fell on the brothers. Puja called from India, crying: "Nobody loves me. What am I going to do?" She wanted to return to Kathmandu but the brothers wouldn't allow it. What emerged slowly, through careful enquiries by Bikesh, suggested the brothers were considering selling their sisters to cover a family debt. James negotiated. He paid the equivalent of $37 USD in Nepali rupees for Puja's return. The act of accepting the money confirmed what he had feared. The other sister was not released.
Back in Kathmandu, FTEN found Puja a safe room and rented it for her. When men in the area began approaching her, James and Bikesh took her to the school together. In an impromptu meeting with principal Rabina Maharjan and several teachers, the community around Puja rallied. A safer room was found right beside the school, with a strict, watchful landlady.
For the next two years Puja lived there. She enrolled in art classes funded by FTEN, taught herself to sew, and became a skilled artist. James sold her artwork at his market stall each trip, the proceeds going back to cover her living costs — rent, food, school materials, everything.
COVID hit. Funds dried up. Markets were banned. FTEN had to make hard choices to survive. Eventually the workshop closed and James had to tell Puja they could no longer afford the room. She found a place near Kalanki. Then Bikesh received word she had married and followed a man back to his village. She was found dead. She had been strangled.
Puja Poddar was killed on 28 February 2022. She was in her early twenties. On the same night, James and two friends were swept away in floodwaters outside Mullumbimby, NSW, and barely survived. He learned of her death days later, when the communication towers came back online.
Peak Growth
FTEN reached its highest enrollment: 45 children in school. The model was working. Families were staying engaged. Children were learning.
The second sewing center was running, with mothers producing tote bags and items for local sale. The vision of economic independence through skills training seemed achievable.
James spent another five months in Nepal, solidifying partnerships, checking on families, and ensuring systems were sustainable. But sustainability would soon face its greatest test.
COVID Crisis & Survival
The COVID-19 pandemic devastated Nepal. Severe lockdowns made survival itself a challenge. Families who were barely scraping by suddenly had no income, no access to food markets, and no safety net.
The Impact:
- Many families returned to India, unable to survive Nepal's lockdowns
- Children disappeared from the program as families scattered
- Schools closed indefinitely
- The number of enrolled children plummeted
FTEN's Response: Pivoting immediately from education support to survival support, FTEN raised several thousand dollars and distributed food to approximately 30 families. This wasn't in the original mission statement, but it was the right thing to do.
When your students are starving, school fees become irrelevant. FTEN learned that flexibility and responsiveness matter more than rigid adherence to plans.
Recovery & Professionalization
As schools reopened and life slowly returned to normal, FTEN faced a new reality: 28 children were able to return to school. The number had dropped from the peak of 45, but those who remained were committed.
Major Milestone: FTEN's first student completed her full education. She had been enrolled in school before FTEN took over her sponsorship from another organization, and now she crossed the finish line. Proof that the model works.
Strategic Shift: Recognizing the need for year-round presence, FTEN hired Bikram as a part-time local coordinator for $160 AUD per month. This changed everything:
- Translation services improved communication with families and schools
- Interpersonal relations strengthened when James wasn't on the ground
- Regular check-ins kept families engaged and students accountable
- Problems could be addressed in real-time, not months later
This "professionalization" (hiring one part-time person) dramatically improved program stability and outcomes.
Consolidation & Clarity
After five months in Nepal, FTEN ended the year with 30 children enrolled. Some students had completed their education, others had left the program (families moving, children dropping out), but they were replaced with carefully recommended younger children starting at ages 6-7.
Name Change: The organization officially became Freedom Through Education Nepal (FTEN), dropping previous variations and establishing a clear identity.
Focus Refined: FTEN committed to specializing in supporting Nepali Dalit and also Indian immigrant Dalit families—a population facing double discrimination (caste system plus immigrant status) with few other support options. The focus on girls' education also sharpened.
Sustainable Model: Rather than chasing growth for growth's sake, FTEN established 30 children as a sustainable number—manageable, affordable, and allowing for quality relationships and support.
Sewing Center Closure: The difficult decision was made to close the third sewing center attempt. With setup costs of ~$2,000 and monthly rent of $300, the centers were competing with the core mission of education. Priority: keep children in school.
Stability Achieved
Another five months in Nepal. 30 children maintained. Some dropped out, some joined—the natural ebb and flow of working with families in crisis—but the program remained stable.
Annual Commitment Formalized: FTEN committed to maintaining 30 children in school with an annual budget of $12,000 USD (~$300-400 per child per year, covering school fees, uniforms, books, tutoring, and emergency support).
This stability represents a decade of learning, failure, adaptation, and commitment. FTEN now knows:
- What works (education + emergency support + local coordinator)
- What doesn't (sewing centers without sustainable funding)
- How to maintain quality relationships with families
- How to work within Nepal's systems
- How to fundraise sustainably in Australia
A Decade of Impact, A Future of Hope
As of September 2025, James is preparing for another five-month trip to Nepal. The work continues.
Current Reality:
- 30 children currently enrolled in school
- 80+ children educated since 2015
- 3 partner schools in Kathmandu
- Bikram maintained relationships year-round (2023-2025)
- 100% volunteer-run (except Bikram's modest stipend)
- Sustainable funding model through Australian community support
Aroshi and Her Grandfather
Safe — because someone found the right person to ask
Aroshi with her grandfather — her protector — outside school in Kathmandu
Aroshi's parents were alcoholics who beat her. She was not safe at home. James asked Bikram to find her somewhere better. Bikram found the grandfather — and the grandfather stepped in as her guardian and protector. She is now in school. He walks her there.
The work doesn't always look like filing paperwork or making phone calls. Sometimes it looks like finding one person who is willing to show up every day.
Ram — Still Trying
Almost ten years, never past Grade 5. Wants to try again.
Ram, Kathmandu 2025
Ram at work — the same streets he's known since 2015
Ram was enrolled by FTEN in 2015. He has a learning disability and spent almost ten years in school without advancing past Grade 5. He eventually left to help his mother, who collects plastic from the streets of Kathmandu to resell — the same work that sustained the boys on Z Street back in 2013.
In James's last days in Kathmandu in 2025, Ram crossed a busy road to find him. He said he wanted to restart school.
James was surprised. Bikram is now looking into what support would actually help — most likely tutoring outside school first, focused on one thing: teaching Ram to read and write.
Ten years on, and the door is still open.
Operational Refinement: Return to Grassroots Leadership
Learning Through Partnership: In late 2025, FTEN partnered with Society for Urban Poor (SOUP), a professional Nepali NGO, to manage program oversight. The three-month collaboration provided valuable insights into operational standards, reporting frameworks, and organizational clarity—while also clarifying FTEN's core identity.
The Core Issue: FTEN's approach has always been relational rather than administrative. We know every child by name, visit homes regularly, respond to family emergencies with flexibility, and maintain trust through consistent personal presence. SOUP's professional methodology—efficient and well-documented—emphasized observation and reporting over the deep relational work that defines FTEN's impact.
What Was Gained:
- Clarity on Mission: The partnership crystallized what makes FTEN effective—humanity over metrics, relationships over procedures, long-term trust over transactional support
- Operational Standards: Professional reporting templates and documentation protocols that can be adapted to grassroots implementation
- Strengthened Local Team: Bikram returned with renewed understanding of program requirements and enhanced accountability frameworks
- Mutual Respect: Both organizations parted professionally, with FTEN contributing to SOUP's website development and operational capacity
Bikram's Return: In February 2026, Bikram Sapkota resumed his role as FTEN's local program manager, now equipped with clearer operational guidelines, enhanced reporting expectations, and a comprehensive role framework. His compensation path is set to increase as reporting quality and mission alignment are demonstrated—matching the commitment we previously invested in professional oversight, but channeled through trusted grassroots leadership.
The FTEN Method Reaffirmed: This experience reinforced that FTEN's strength lies in its grassroots scale and relational depth. We're not an NGO. We're a small, direct, human-centered operation where the person managing the program shares the community's background, speaks their language literally and culturally, and is trusted because trust has been earned over years—not assigned through organizational partnership.
Moving Forward: With operational standards clarified and local leadership strengthened, FTEN enters 2026 more certain of its identity: pioneering a model of care that prioritizes dignity, relationship, and sustained presence over administrative efficiency. Thirty children, deeply known and consistently supported, remains the mission.
"We learned what we needed to learn. Now we move forward with the clarity that our way—small, relational, grassroots—is not a limitation. It's our method."
Ten Years. Eighty Lives Changed. The Work Continues.
Every $300 gives a child a full year of education—and a pathway out of poverty.
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