For a significant period, the Nepali corporate landscape was characterised by a traditional and well-established structure. Within this framework, the standard for professional success was largely defined by the security of a consistent monthly salary, the cultural staple of the Dashain bonus, and the long-term assurance of retirement benefits. Ownership and equity were historically concentrated within founding groups and family-led enterprises, which was the standard practice for the country’s developing market.
However, as the digital economy began to take root in Kathmandu and the tech corridors of Lalitpur, this conventional model started to broaden. The rise of high-growth ventures has prompted a transition toward more modern, inclusive philosophies of corporate participation. The emergence of high-growth startups and the entry of global tech players created a demand for talent that a simple salary could no longer satisfy.
For years, legal practitioners and entrepreneurs navigated a murky ‘grey zone’ to reward loyalty but the recent fourth amendment of the Companies Act, 2063 has finally brought the sun up over this landscape. With the introduction of Section 66A, the Employee Stock Option Plan (ESOP) has transitioned from a boardroom myth to a statutory reality, fundamentally altering the jurisprudence of employment in Nepal.
The legal journey to Section 66A was born out of necessity. Before this amendment, a company wishing to grant equity to its staff was met with a wall of regulatory silence. The Companies Act, 2063, had no specific mechanism for issuing shares to employees as compensation. Companies were forced to experiment with phantom stocks, contractual agreements that mimicked share ownership through cash bonuses, or bonus share issuances that often ran afoul of tax and securities regulations. These workarounds were legally fragile and did little to provide employees with the psychological and financial security of true ownership.
The new amendment changes this by providing an explicit statutory framework. Now, a company can legally reserve a portion of its authorised capital specifically for an ESOP pool. This is a monumental shift; it recognises that in a modern economy, ‘labour’ is not just a recurring expense to be paid off, but an intellectual investment that deserves a share in the capital it helps create.
From a procedural standpoint, the law ensures that this power is not abused. Implementing an ESOP is not a decision that can be made behind closed doors by a handful of directors. Under the new provisions, any company intending to offer stock options must pass a Special Resolution during its General Meeting. This requires a 75% majority vote from existing shareholders, a high legal bar that ensures the dilution of equity is transparent and collectively sanctioned. For the legal professional, this means the ESOP Scheme document has become one of the most critical pieces of corporate drafting.
ESOP Scheme must meticulously define the vesting period, the duration an employee must remain with the company before they earn the right to their shares, and the exercise price, which is the pre-determined rate at which the employee can eventually buy the stock. By codifying these terms, the law provides a predictable roadmap for both the employer and the employee, reducing the likelihood of the protracted litigation that often plagues informal equity promises.
Perhaps the most culturally significant aspect of the 2081 amendment is the ‘startup exception’ embedded within the new framework. Traditionally, the law viewed promoters and employees as two mutually exclusive categories. A founder who owned more than 10% of a company was generally barred from participating in employee benefit schemes to prevent self-dealing. However, the reality of the startup world is that the founder is often the most critical, underpaid employee in the room.
The new law acknowledges this by allowing promoters of government-recognised startups to participate in ESOP schemes for the first five years of the company’s life. This is a progressive legal acknowledgement of sweat equity. It allows a young entrepreneur in a rented office in Kupondole to legally earn their stake through their labour, rather than just through their initial capital injection. It bridges the gap between the visionary who starts the company and the talent required to scale it.
Beyond the domestic startup scene, the legal evolution of ESOPs has addressed a long-standing tension within Nepal’s foreign exchange framework. It is a common misconception that the Foreign Exchange (Regulation) Act, 2019, imposes an absolute prohibition on holding foreign assets. In reality, the law has historically permitted Nepali citizens to hold investments abroad, provided those assets were acquired using income earned while residing or working outside the country. The statutory restriction is primarily aimed at ‘capital flight’ – the act of remitting funds from Nepal’s domestic reserves to invest in foreign markets.
In the context of ESOPs for employees physically based in Nepal, the legal friction often arose because these individuals were earning their livelihood locally, yet being granted equity in a foreign parent entity. Recent regulatory shifts and the spirit of the new Companies Act have finally addressed this ‘non-cash’ acquisition. By distinguishing between the prohibited outward remittance of currency and the permissible receipt of equity benefits that do not deplete domestic reserves, the law has cleared a path for Nepali talent to participate in global wealth-creation engines without the risk of regulatory non-compliance.
However, the transition to an equity-heavy compensation model is not without its legal and fiscal pitfalls. The most daunting challenge lies in the intersection of corporate law and the Income Tax Act, 2058. In the eyes of the Inland Revenue Department (IRD), an ESOP is not just a gift, it is a taxable benefit. The moment an employee ‘exercises’ their option, converting their right into actual shares, the law treats the difference between the fair market value and the exercise price as employment income. For an employee at a successful, high-valuation company, this can create a massive tax liability. They may find themselves owning shares worth millions of rupees on paper, but they have no liquid cash to pay the 36% or 39% tax that the government demands. This paper wealth trap is a significant hurdle. Legal practitioners are now tasked with drafting sophisticated exit strategies, such as cashless exercise options or company-funded buy-back schemes, to ensure that a reward for a decade of hard work doesn’t result in a personal financial crisis for the employee.
Furthermore, the issue of liquidity remains the elephant in the room for private companies. In a listed public company, an employee can simply sell their vested shares on the Nepal Stock Exchange (NEPSE). But for the vast majority of companies using ESOPs in Nepal, there is no public market for their stock. A share in a private tech firm is an illiquid asset. You cannot use it to pay for a mortgage or a child’s education unless someone is willing to buy it from you. This creates a legal necessity for exit rights.
Robust ESOP schemes must now include tag-along rights, allowing employees to sell their shares if the founders sell the company, or put options that force the company to buy back shares under certain conditions. Without these legal safeguards, an ESOP remains a gilded cage, valuable in theory but restrictive in practice.
As Nepal moves forward, the success of Section 66A will depend on the continued maturity of our regulatory institutions. The Securities Board of Nepal (SEBON) will need to provide clearer guidelines for public companies, and the Office of the Company Registrar (OCR) will need to streamline the process for registering equity transfers. More importantly, the IRD must develop more nuanced valuation guidelines for private shares to prevent arbitrary tax assessments that could stifle the very innovation the law aims to foster. We are currently in the early adopter phase of this legal transition, where the pioneers are testing the boundaries of the new statute.
The institutionalisation of ESOPs in Nepal is a sign of a nation’s mturing corporate identity. It signals to the world, and to the thousands of talented young Nepalis who look toward the airport for their future, that Nepal is ready for a modern partnership between capital and labour. It is a legal acknowledgment that the true value of a 21st-century company does not lie in its land, its buildings, or its machinery, but in the collective brainpower of its people.
By giving employees a stake in the future, Nepal is not just changing its laws, it is changing its destiny. The ‘Jagir’ mentality is slowly being replaced by an ownership mindset, ensuring that when a Nepali company succeeds, the wealth created is shared by those who stayed, worked and believed in the vision. The law has finally caught up to the ambition of the people and the result is a more equitable, vibrant and innovative corporate future for the country.
