Himalayan Governments Must Put Springs On The Agenda

In a small Himalayan village in the northern Indian district of Pithoragarh, I came face-to-face with one of the quietest yet most alarming consequences of climate change.

It was late afternoon in April 2015, and the hills were bathed in soft light. Yet there was a strange stillness in the village. The springs that once bubbled with life had gradually dwindled to a trickle. Women were lining up with water containers, waiting. Children trudged beside them, some barely eight years old, carrying jars heavier than their school bags. They were going to fetch water from the few springs still flowing, much further from their homes. One girl told me she used to play with her friends after school, “but now we carry water.”

That moment stayed with me: what do you say to somebody whose childhood is being spent collecting water, litre by litre?

A spreading regional crisis

This is not an isolated story. Across the Hindu Kush Himalayan region, flowing in eight countries and supporting the lives and livelihoods of over 100 million people, there are millions of natural springs. Known variously as naula, dhara, bowdi, paniyar, mool and chashma, they have provided clean water for generations. Currently, these springs are drying up.

According to the government of India’s public policy think-tank, NITI Aayog, nearly 50 million people live in the Indian Himalayan Region. Mountain springs are the primary source of water for this predominantly rural population. In Nepal, more than 10 million of those living in its hills and mountains have the same reliance.

But the flow is slowing. Springs are becoming seasonal or disappearing entirely. In India’s Himalayan region, nearly half of its perennial springs have already dried up or become seasonal. Similar patterns are emerging in parts of Bhutan and Nepal. When springs dry, it is the poorest and remotest settlements that suffer first, and most severely. This is because, unlike the wealthier or locationally advantaged, they do not have piped water connections, cannot afford private water tankers and cannot build water storage or install pumping systems.

The causes are both visible and invisible. Climate change has made rainfall more erratic. Meanwhile, deforestation, poorly planned infrastructure and the abandonment of traditional irrigation and water management practices are damaging recharge zones – hidden aquifers that store and transmit infiltrated surface water to springs. The traditional balance of land, forest and water is unravelling, as are mountain communities’ intimate relationships with their landscapes.

This is not just a water crisis; it is a water justice issue. With reduced spring availability, people – especially women, who take on most water-related labour – must go further afield. This means children are losing time to learn and play, women are walking for longer with added burdens and threats to their safety, and families are being forced to abandon farms and livestock, or migrate. Communities are losing faith in one of the most reliable water sources, and in the systems that once sustained them.

But this story can change. In fact it already has, in places where people are working with nature – not against it – to revive their springs.

How communities are bringing water back to life

Springshed management is emerging as one of the most promising, low-cost and community-driven climate adaptation solutions in mountainous regions. The idea is simple: protect and restore the wider recharge zones that feed a spring, or aquifers that feed multiple springs.

This involves identifying such zones, using science and local knowledge. For example, hydrogeological assessments, as well as mapping springs with local community engagement, and studying their flow patterns and water quality. Codesigning spring recharge, by digging trenches and ponds and planting trees, can stabilise gullies and enhance water infiltration. Springshed management should also focus on restoring vegetation in degraded catchments, which improves soil infiltration and prevents pollution.

Importantly, this work should seek to understand the gender, social and governance systems that shape spring access and management. It should involve women in decision-making.

Continuous monitoring and maintenance will be essential in sustaining spring health, and ensure equitable benefits for all, particularly women and marginalised groups.

To scale the above approach, the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD), where I work, has developed and is implementing a six-step protocol for springshed management across the Hindu Kush Himalayan region. Having such a protocol ensures spring revival is both systematic and participatory. This project is supported by the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation, the United Kingdom’s Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office, and several other international partners.

This structured and flexible approach has revived springs in the Indian states of Sikkim, Manipur, Uttarakhand, Himachal Pradesh, and a number of municipalities in Nepal and Bhutan. In these areas, such initiatives are already showing results, with some springs being revived within two to three years.

In Uttarakhand’s Moldhar village, for instance, the revived Upala Shivani spring – a major water source for approximately 80 households – doubled its discharge during lean months. Local women took charge of digging over 700 toe trenches in the recharge zone. These small, narrow pits run parallel to the agricultural terrace walls, to enhance the infiltration of runoff water. This gradually seeps into the soil, recharging underground aquifers feeding the springs. The revival of this spring has reduced the time spent collecting water, increased fodder availability for livestock and empowered women to lead further spring revival actions.

Villages that once relied on water tankers are seeing their springs turn perennial again. Water access has improved and with it, the burden on women and children has eased. Trust in community-based local governance is being restored.

Why are springs missing from the global water agenda?

Despite this success, springs remain largely absent from national climate action plans. They are not included in most water budgets; funding is sporadic, and they are still seen as too small-scale for mainstream infrastructure or climate finance. Ironically, many semi-urban and urban piped water supply schemes in the Himalayan region rely on springs, yet they are rarely acknowledged or managed by the government.

This is partly due to inadequate capacity for springshed management on the part of the government and other stakeholders. In water resource planning documents, they are typically characterised as minor or small-scale, rendering them invisible in both budget allocations and infrastructure design.

This disconnect is not just technical; it is deeply political and ecological. Compared to large-scale and visible dams, reservoirs and canals, spring rejuvenation is quiet, slow and decentralised. This makes it less attractive for political narratives, despite the significant importance of springs. They are part of living ecosystems, fed by complex ecological processes: forest cover, soil health, rainfall infiltration and groundwater flows. Ignoring them creates ecological risks.

This must change. If we are serious about climate adaptation, especially for vulnerable, remote and Indigenous communities, then we must put springs at the centre of our efforts. Governments must mandate spring mapping and the implementation of springshed management in local and national policies. This management must be scaled up by dedicated budgets and blended financing mechanisms, leveraged from governments and donors. Moreover, local governance and community institutions should be empowered to lead spring revival efforts through inclusive decision-making, training and sustained resources.

Reviving springs is not just about water. It is about restoring dignity, opportunity and hope to mountain communities.

This week, we celebrate World Water Week. This year’s theme is “Water for Climate Action”. As the global community sets climate adaptation targets and develops nature-based solutions, the humble spring must be seen for what it is: a frontline defence against the impacts of climate change. A lifeline for millions, as well as a source of resilience.

In that village in Pithoragarh, the springs have been revived, and children are no longer missing school. But many other villages are still suffering. Without urgent action, drying springs will deepen social inequalities, overburden women and accelerate environmental degradation. With the right policies and investments, these springs – and the futures they could sustain – can flow again.

(Published under Creative Commons from Dialogue Earth)