- Communities in the remote Himalayan Phu Valley in Nepal have begun farming jimbu, an aromatic chive central to a staple food, dal bhat. Some 37 households are involved in the pilot project.
- This herb offers a potential conservation dividend: Its pungent smell deters blue sheep from raiding crops. Since they’re snow leopards’ main prey, it may reduce the cats’ visits to human settlements and lower livestock predation.
- Growing jimbu, with three yearly harvests, could generate about 12 million rupees ($79,500) in communities where potato farming offers little cash income.
- Experts caution that the model is not universally replicable and warn against blanket adoption across other snow leopard habitats, emphasizing site-specific conservation needs.
KATHMANDU — In Nepal, there’s a popular saying: “dal bhat power, 24 hour.” It refers to a humble plateful of rice and soupy lentils that Nepalis swear by, both at home and across the diaspora. It’s fuel for the body and a taste of home where it’s a staple meal for lunch and dinner. Now, an aromatic herb from the Himalayas that gives the Nepali staple its distinctive flavor offers Indigenous communities a potential promise: An alternative source of income and fewer conflicts with the iconic snow leopards that live in these mountain peaks.
How so? The residents of Phu Valley who cultivate jimbu (Allium przewalskianum) in this high-altitude settlement, located in the trans-Himalayan region of Manang that borders China’s Tibet region will tell you. They grow this herb, also known as Himalayan chive, as a cash crop — and as a way to help save “the big cat of the mountains.” Dried jimbu is usually fried in ghee, or clarified butter, and poured over simmering dal for an earthy flavor.
“Whenever we talk about dal bhat, the most famous of them all is the Thakali version prepared by the Thakali communities of the mountains,” said Shailendra Thakali, an expert in environmental conservation, tourism and livelihoods, referring to a version of the dish made by Indigenous people known for their traditional cuisines. “And the Thakali dal bhat owes its unique taste and aroma to jimbu,” Thakali added.
Until recently, residents foraged this herb from steep, risky slopes. They used some in their own cooking and sold whatever was left, because it fetches large sums, with growing demand in Nepal and beyond. In 2022, the Narpa Bhumi Rural Municipality — where Phu village is located — partnered with Mountain Spirit, a Nepal-based NGO, to launch a pilot project to domesticate jimbu in nearby abandoned farmland, turning it into a community asset.
Almost all of the 37 households in this region, about 200 people, are now involved in jimbu farming, said Kunchok Tenzin Lama, chairperson of the municipality. The project is supported by the Darwin Initiative, a U.K. grant program, and the Snow Leopard Conservancy.
Lama said that until two decades ago, jimbu was mostly used as a medicinal herb to treat headaches or pains in these mountain communities. Food items like dal were not available in remote, high altitude locations, and residents sometimes used jimbu to spice fried potatoes. But as locals started trading the herb in the hills, where it was already being used in their staple dal bhat, they realized its business potential.
“It’s fetching a good value, so we thought of farming it on our abandoned lands and mass-producing it,” Lama said.
Three years later, this first-of-its-kind initiative is showing gradual results. Wild cuttings of the herb — which looks like chives and grows in dense clumps — were transplanted in about 41 polytunnels in the 3.4-hectare (8.4-acre) plot.
The crop is now thriving. It can be harvested three to four times a year, with farmers only snipping the thin grass-like leaves and stem without uprooting the plant. Lama said the soil quality, which is similar to the places where locals traditionally foraged for jimbu, makes the area conducive for farming it.
“Even if we harvest just three times a year, we can grow around 8,000 kilograms (17,600 pounds). And even if we sell it for 1,500 rupees per kilo [approximately $10 at current exchange rates], that will fetch us a very good amount of money,” Lama said.
It would bring in about 12 million rupees, ($79,500). That will be split among the 37 households growing jimbu, with their cut determined by the size of the plot they work, providing a small fortune for families in these remote villages.
“We can’t make much money farming and selling potatoes, but with jimbu, we can,” Lama said.

Pasture to protection
Jimbu is more than just a lucrative crop for local communities. Blue sheep (Pseudois nayaur) have long grazed these pastures, and they damage crops. But blue sheep are less likely to raid jimbu farms because of the herb’s pungent aroma, said Thakali, who is also the principal investigator of the Phu pilot project.
It may also deter snow leopards (Panthera uncia).
Traditional livelihoods based on yak and goat herding have become increasingly risky because of snow leopard predation. Since blue sheep are the cat’s favored prey, fewer blue sheep near human settlements could reduce snow leopard visits, and hopefully, livestock kills.
Phu Valley region’s rugged terrain and abundant blue sheep population makes it key snow leopard habitat. The cats sometimes prey on livestock, and there have been rare mass killings, known as surplus killing. In 2021, a snow leopard killed 50 goats and a sheep inside a corral in one night and returned to slay another dozen the following day.
Retaliatory killing of snow leopards by farmers who have lost their livestock remains one of the major challenges for the cats’ long-term survival. And even in places with a mostly Buddhist population, where the religion forbids killing snow leopards, researchers say retaliatory killings happen secretly. To conserve snow leopards, Nepal’s new action plan has prioritized community engagement and conflict mitigation.

“Our assumption is that once people grow jimbu, it will decrease wild harvesting,” Thakali said. “This means there will be lower disturbance in snow leopard and blue sheep habitat, which will ultimately reduce their visits around human settlements and lead to livestock loss and any retaliation against snow leopards.”
He called it a “double whammy” for the locals: fewer crop losses due to blue sheep and fewer livestock killed by snow leopards.
Kamal Thapa, a conservation scientist, said that new sources of income from jimbu farming as well as an increasing influx of ecotourists who come to hike or to see snow leopards could help protect snow leopards. He said these income streams could serve as a “trade-off,” helping offset losses from lost livestock.
In a 2021 study published by the IUCN Cat Specialist Group, Thapa emphasized “a need for practical, action-oriented snow leopard conservation strategies, strongly accompanied by an economic program to benefit the local people.”
This project seems to do just that. Thapa and Thakali said the initiative in Phu demonstrates how community engagement can create a win-win situation for both local livelihoods and wildlife conservation.
“Jimbu farming could be a good example of a community-led initiative with economic prospects for snow leopard conservation,” Thapa said. “But it shouldn’t be a blanket approach used in other places because there are site-specific conservation needs in Nepal.”
Thakali agreed. “To protect snow leopards, we must protect the farmers’ wallets,” he said.


‘It’s not easy’
Farmers have already started cultivating jimbu, but transporting irrigation pipes and fencing into the mountains is complicated. These villages sit at an altitude of 4,000 meters (13,000 feet), accessible only by walking trails, so bringing in building materials is complicated and expensive. But this infrastructure is needed to cultivate jimbu and to protect it from animals.
Building a sustainable market chain is the next challenge, Thakali said, adding, “We know we can produce now, but the problem is, who do we sell to?”
Many residents in Phu and other areas have traditionally cultivated potatoes and barley, while rearing livestock. In the early 2000s, some turned to foraging yarsa gunbu (Ophiocordyceps sinensis), also known as caterpillar fungus or Himalayan Viagra. Thakali noted that jimbu cultivation is a more reliable, local option for an alternate source of income, with climate change threatening yarsa gunbu production.
“But it’s not easy,” Thakali said. “It needs to be properly branded and packaged to get good prices. Phu jimbu is known to be one of the best.”
Another hurdle, he said, is quality control issues, as well as business registration and certification.
Access to market and fair prices are other hurdles. Buyers who travel to Phu to buy jimbu sell it at double the price in urban markets. In Kathmandu, where demand for organic jimbu is high, it sells for 2,500-3,000 rupees ($16-20) per kilogram.
The proliferation of restaurants that serve Indigenous Thakali dal bhat and promise authentic taste has driven up demand. A 2023 study showed that jimbu is packed with antimicrobial and antioxidant properties, with high levels of beneficial compounds indicating potential for future health applications.


Binti Gurung, a food anthropologist, did extensive field research in various regions for her “Lekhali Cookbook,” which features Indigenous food from Nepal’s highlands. She said that in many villages she visited, local women recounted going to high ridges to harvest herbs, which they sold to outside buyers at a low price.
She said locals were then “disengaged from the trading process,” so they didn’t know how much these middlemen netted. Meanwhile, consumers are also not informed how these herbs were sourced or where they came from.

“There are challenges with market access and branding, but a much greater necessity is protection of the traditional knowledge in the economic sphere,” Gurung said. “Having Indigenous trademarks, engaging Indigenous peoples in the economic development and trading policies provides important examples for conserving the natural world that they inhabit, not only for now but for many generations to come.”
But the payment system itself is a major obstacle, Thakali said. Many traders operate in consignment arrangements, making mountain communities wait for months for payment. Nepal’s prevailing business model “does not match with the realities of the mountain,” Thakali said, which means scaling up production and providing at least partial advance payment to boost farmers’ morale and investment.
As both a farmer and chairperson of the rural municipality, Lama has several ideas for expanding jimbu cultivation and improving market access. Lack of interest among young people in joining the agricultural workforce has impeded growth, as well as limited enthusiasm among community members to form a cooperative and scale up business. One solution, he believes, would be leasing land to private companies, which could increase production and also benefit locals.
“That could be a good source of income,” Lama said. “We’re just starting, and there are many abandoned farmlands here. We can start with jimbu and try other herbs in the future.”
Banner image: Jimbu (Allium przewalskianum) in the Tibetan Plateau. Image © Mengshuai Ge via iNaturalist (CC BY-NC 4.0).
The vanishing pharmacy: How climate change is reshaping traditional medicine
Traditional healers push for recognition and licensing of age-old Himalayan practice
Local coverage of Nepal’s ‘Himalayan Viagra’ harvest lacks eco focus, study says
Citation:
Pandey, S., Chataut, G., Maharjan, S., Maidali, D. R., & Bhattarai, K. (2023). Unveiling the potential of Jimbu (Allium przewalskianum): Bioactive compounds, antioxidant, and antimicrobial properties of a native himalayan spice herb. International Journal of Applied Sciences and Biotechnology, 11(4), 171-180. doi: 10.3126/ijasbt.v11i4.59326
FEEDBACK: Use this form to send a message to the author or editor of this post. If you’d like to post a public comment, you can do so at the bottom of the page.
This story first appeared on Mongabay
This article is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
You may republish this article, so long as you credit the authors and Mongabay, and do not change the text. Please include a link back to the original article.






