National
The pitfalls of Nepali parents’ obsession with the ‘doctor-engineer dream’
Many Nepali parents want their children to become a doctor or an engineer. It’s taking a toll on their children’s mental health.Aarati Ray
Eighteen-year-old Samantha Yadav from Kathmandu felt dejected when she flunked her engineering entrance exam. “I knew I couldn’t get a high enough ranking for a scholarship, but I was confident I would pass,” Yadav says. “I don’t understand what went wrong. I worked hard… This was my parents’ dream.”
On September 7, Tribhuvan University’s Institute of Engineering (TU IOE) announced that 6,530 students passed the BE/B.Arch entrance examination for 2024/25, while 7,847 students cleared the MBBS entrance exam in late August.
In Nepal, success is often defined by getting into one of the two professions: doctor or engineer. For thousands of students, passing the entrance exams for these fields is seen as a ticket to a bright future.
But for many like Yadav, failure in these high-stakes exams feels like a personal catastrophe, as societal and familial pressure equates academic setbacks with life failures. This narrative has become more pronounced with the recent release of engineering and MBBS exam results.
According to psychologist Sita Maya Thing Lama, Nepali and Asian parenting, which is fuelled mostly by ‘tiger parenting’, or pushing children by their expectations of ‘dreams’, is all too common.
However, many parents have yet to fully grasp the serious repercussions of placing such heavy expectations on their children.
There is a deep-rooted belief in Nepal that careers outside of medicine and engineering lack stability. According to Lama, the intense competition in these fields raises the stakes and when students fail, it takes a toll on their mental health.
“When results don’t go as expected, students feel worthless, which leads to self-blame, guilt, and the development of an inferiority complex, which affects their personal growth,” Lama says.
Lama’s observations align with a 2020 study published in PubMed, which highlights that immense pressure to succeed often drives students into mental health crises, including suicidal tendencies due to the overwhelming burden of parental and societal expectations.
Recent data from Nepal Police showing that farmers and students have the highest suicide rates in Nepal makes the situation of parental and academic pressure more concerning.
Yadav had always been an outstanding student; she had passed her School Education Examination (SEE) with flying colours. Pushed by her parents and teachers, she took up the Science stream in Plus Two, as her talent in Maths and Science seemed to align perfectly with her aim of becoming an engineer.
But since the IOE results, her home has had an eerie atmosphere. “My parents haven’t said anything, but I know they’re disappointed in me,” Yadav says. “I feel like dying.”
Yadav’s experience mirrors that of many students in Nepal, where exam failures often trigger deep self-doubt and depression.
“Some parents believe that pushing their children hard is what leads to success,” Lama says. “While this ‘tiger parenting’ approach might work for a few, it inevitably increases the pressure on students. Today’s generation wants to explore their own interests.” Lama adds that courses in medicine and engineering are already demanding, and students who enter these fields without genuine passion are more susceptible to burnout.
Yadav says she had long held dreams of becoming an artist but felt crushed under the weight of her parents’ expectations. Now, battling depression for the last two years, she says, “I feel lost. My parents will likely want me to take a gap year and try again, but I don’t have the courage. What if I fail again?”
A 2020 cross-sectional study revealed that 82.87% of engineering students and 56.9% of medical students exhibited symptoms of depression, with findings pointing to academic and parental pressure as major contributors.
Sahn Shrestha, who the Post is identifying with a pseudonym for privacy, is another student who, after three years of trying, finally secured a scholarship for MBBS in 2023. Shrestha, who hails from Jhapa, now studies at BP Koirala Institute of Health Sciences (BPKIHS) in Dharan. “My parents always told me I would be a doctor, and I believed it too,” Shrestha said. “When I failed the first time, seeing the disappointment in their faces broke me. I kept trying and finally succeeded last year.”
Lama adds that even if students succeed, they may still question their decisions. “They could constantly wonder why they can’t fully commit to their chosen field despite their hard work.”
Shrestha, now diagnosed with bipolar disorder, reflects this uncertainty: “I feel lost. I don’t even know if this was ever what I truly wanted, or if I was just trying to fulfil my parents’ expectations.”
Another student, Roshan Yadav, who passed the engineering entrance exam this year, hasn’t been able to rejoice fully as his best friend, Rohan, did not pass. “Since the results came out, Rohan looks soulless. His parents have been comparing his results with mine,” Roshan says. “I don’t understand why parents in Nepal are so obsessed with the doctor or engineering thing.”
Roshan’s friend, who had ambitions to open a start-up, was pushed by his family to pursue engineering instead. “Many of my classmates in Plus Two science stream were there because their parents and relatives insisted, not because they wanted to be,” Roshan says. “Many of them were struggling with their mental health too.”
According to a 2022 study conducted in Kathmandu, 53.97% of college students experience anxiety, and 39.88% suffer from depression. Students from families with lower educational backgrounds face more pressure to perform well academically. The added burden of parental expectations, combined with the stress of high-stakes exams, creates a toxic environment for many students.
Further complicating the situation, a Nepal Police report revealed that 7,223 people committed suicide in the fiscal year 2023-2024. In the two preceding fiscal years, 13,823 suicides were recorded, with students making up 15.4% of the total.
Data from Nepal Medical Council shows that nearly 44% of medical graduates failed their licensing exams in 2023, a concerning trend that raises questions about both the quality of education and the immense pressure students face.
These statistics, combined with the experiences of students like Yadav and Shrestha, reflect how parents’ obsession with high-stakes exams and societal expectations is pushing students to the edge.
“Parents and teachers need to prioritise what makes students happy when it comes to career choices,” Lama, the psychologist, says. “Success isn’t just about securing a job. It’s also about mental satisfaction and well-being. Students should feel they have the freedom to choose their own path without guilt or regret.”
According to Lama, introducing students early to diverse career options, offering career counselling for both students and their parents along with mental health support, and reducing the stigma around failure are areas requiring urgent attention for Nepal’s students.
“Why do parents believe that only becoming a doctor or engineer would ensure a safe future for their children?” Yadav questions. “Why don’t schools and colleges offer career guidance that explores fields beyond the Science stream? Why does one failed entrance exam feel like a lifetime of failure in the eyes of everyone, including myself?”