Our Story

The Purpose

The Story Kitchen started with listening to the stories of our grandmothers, mothers, mothers-in-law, sisters, and daughters, recognizing that the stories women carry about their lives in our country are seldom documented, heard, or taught.

The Story Kitchen traces its roots back to the reflections and shared experiences of two Nepalese radio journalists, Jaya Luintel and Rajan Parajuli. Both began their storytelling journeys as teenagers—Jaya as a radio journalist in 1999, and Rajan, who started hosting radio shows at just 13, officially entered the field in 2000. They first met and collaborated in 2002 but soon went their separate ways to pursue individual paths in journalism.

Almost a decade later, in 2011, a chance reunion sparked a profound conversation. Both had been reflecting on their identities as storytellers and the true purpose of their craft. These discussions were shaped by personal epiphanies that challenged their understanding of storytelling and guided them toward a shared vision.

A Moment of Realization: Jaya’s Story

“I was sitting with my mother-in-law, Laxmi, one pleasant afternoon in September 2011. She was 66 at the time, and as we sifted rice together using a round bamboo tray called a Nanglo (or Supo in her village), she began sharing a story from her childhood. She talked about being married off at seven and her struggles as a child bride trying to handle household chores.

One memory stood out vividly for her—the difficulty separating rice grains from paddy grains with a giant Nanglo and the punishments she endured when she couldn’t do it well. Then, one day, a rice mill arrived in her village. She carried a sack of paddy to the mill before heading out to collect firewood. The sack was filled with bright, white rice grains when she returned. She no longer had to sift, and for the first time, she felt true relief. “That,” she told me, “was one of the happiest days of my life.”

Hearing her story deeply moved me. Despite over a decade as a journalist, I had never encountered such raw, personal narratives. Why had she chosen to share this story with me so naturally? And why had I never really listened to stories like hers in all my work?

This moment made me realize how often we, as journalists, impose our agendas on people’s stories, shaping them to fit our goals instead of letting the storytellers lead. I began questioning my approach as a journalist—was I truly listening to the stories people wanted to share, or was I shaping them to fit my perspective?”

A Question of Purpose: Rajan’s Story

As a journalist, I once interviewed a documentary filmmaker from Bangladesh. The story portrayed the funeral rights of abandoned ships in Chittagong. During our conversation, I asked her, “How do documentaries on neglected issues compete in the marketplace?” Her response was straightforward yet deeply insightful: “When selling something, you care about reach and market. When you’re telling stories, you’re doing it for a different reason.”

Her words struck a chord with me. At the time, I was proud of my journalism identity, pursuing stories and delivering messages. But her statement made me pause and question my role. Was I merely a messenger? Who was I telling stories for, and why?

This moment of reflection marked a turning point for me. It led to deep introspection and rethinking of what it truly means to listen and share stories. I began grappling with fundamental questions about storytelling: Why do we tell stories? Whose stories are we sharing? And how can we ensure that the voices of the silenced and untold are honored?

A Shared Realization: Jaya and Rajan’s Story

It began as a simple conversation between us (Jaya and Rajan), reflecting on the stories we had encountered. But as we shared our thoughts, a pattern emerged that neither of us could ignore. We realized how often storytelling mirrored the power structures of our society. Dominant voices took center stage, while others were silenced, dismissed, or erased. History itself seemed to follow this pattern, with patriarchal systems ensuring that women’s perspectives were absent, leaving behind an incomplete and unjust narrative—a “his story” that left no room for HerStory.

This realization wasn’t just an abstract observation; it came with uncomfortable truths:

Women’s voices, even when present, were undervalued or ignored.
Historical accounts prioritized a single perspective, leaving gaping holes in the collective memory.
The dominant narratives perpetuated a monolithic view of the world, marginalizing countless experiences and truths.

These reflections brought us to a crucial question: What if storytelling needed transformation? Could it evolve into a practice that didn’t just tell stories but actively dismantled hierarchies and empowered those long silenced?

The Birth of a Vision

In their reflections, Jaya and Rajan realized something crucial: the need for an alternative space where women could reclaim their narratives, make meaning of their lived experiences, and amplify their voices. This shared vision became the seed for something transformative: The Story Kitchen. Together with Charimaya Tamang, Pushpa Basnet, and an anonymous ally, they co-founded The Story Kitchen on 10 September 2012.

From its inception, The Story Kitchen was built on a deep understanding of the flaws and biases ingrained in traditional systems of knowledge and storytelling. It sought to challenge the status quo and align itself with the global movement for social justice, inclusivity, and the democratization of knowledge. At its core, The Story Kitchen is a testament to the power of storytelling to drive transformation and build a more just and inclusive world.

Why Kitchen?

The word kitchen reflects our mission in three ways:

A Place of Processing: Just as kitchens transform ingredients, TSK processes stories, amplifying women’s voices and helping them set their agendas.
Honouring Women’s Work: Women’s labor, often invisible and undervalued, deserves recognition. The Story Kitchen highlights and celebrates all forms of women’s contributions.
A Safe Space for Sharing: Kitchens foster community and storytelling. We recreate this space at TSK, where women can share, connect, and spark change.