Nine thousand people died; three times as many were injured. The cost of the earthquake is estimated at US$8 billion, though no dollar figure can adequately reflect the destruction to a city that traces its history back over 2,000 years.

“I suppose you could say it was ironic that no astrologer saw the quake coming,” says Joshi, 77, who trained as a mechanical engineer in India before taking up his traditional family profession.

“Astrologers had predicted the biggest earthquake of the 20th century, which did a similar amount of damage in Kathmandu in January 1934, but the 2015 quake was a real bolt from the blue, and a truly terrible one at that. I was in Kathmandu at the time and remember it vividly.”

International aid agencies rushed to help in the wake of the disaster, and ordinary Nepalese young and old turned out by the thousand to form human chains with soldiers and police to pass precious artefacts from shattered museums and temples to places of safety.

Five years on, many of Kathmandu’s landmarks – such as the city centre’s ornamental pond, Ranipokhari, and the monumental Boudhanath stupa – have been restored to their former glory.

But there is still a long way to go, and in Nepal no major event takes place without being given the nod by a respected medium, which is where the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust’s ad hoc astrologer comes in.

“In Nepal, it is usual to cast a child’s horoscope as soon as he or she is born, and people also consult an astrologer before any major event in their life, such as getting married or moving house,” says Joshi, who was given his first lessons in astrology by his father when he was still a teenager.

“The trust call on me when they need me – the last time was to ascertain the right day to start work on Bhai Dega temple in Mangal Bazar in Patan.

“I consult my charts, which were handed down by my father. Some days – if Venus or Jupiter are close to the sun, for instance – are automatically no good. It’s rare to find a day that is perfect in every respect, so it’s a matter of weighing up the various alternatives, and finding the best possible solution.”

Joshi says astrology has been part of Nepalese culture for centuries, but in recent years young people have thought they could ignore the old values and make up their own minds about when to get married.

“That’s now changed, and there’s a great interest in astrology again, perhaps because of phenomena like the earthquake and Covid-19, which suggest that you’re really not in charge of your own destiny.”

Joshi is one of many specialists drawn from all walks of life and a variety of nations who have dedicated themselves to the renaissance of the Nepalese capital and its medieval architecture, a task complicated by the onset of Covid-19, which has locked down the city on occasion.

In the days following the earthquake, people needed immediate practical help, and then assistance with long-term rebuilding. In Hong Kong, Cathay Pacific Airways came up with HK$6 million, and partnered with Unicef to ensure it was spent in the most practical way. The UN children’s agency used the money to set up temporary learning centres, vaccinate children against measles, rubella and polio, and establish vital water supplies.

“As well as providing emergency assistance, we set up safe places where children could mix with each other, giving them a sense of normalcy in what was a very abnormal situation,” says Judy Chen, chairwoman of Unicef Hong Kong.

“This gave them somewhere to play games, sing, dance to traditional music, play sports and even meditate. It certainly helped Kathmandu’s children recover from trauma. I was so relieved to see the smiles back on the youngsters’ faces when playing with each other in kid-friendly spaces.”

Chen says that, as a mother, her heart went out to the children and families in dire need of humanitarian assistance after the earthquake. “It was a race against time to save lives and protect children,” she says.

“But besides coping with physical vulnerability, the psychological impact on children runs deep, as they are terrified by the chaos and destruction around them. So it’s vital to take a holistic approach to disaster relief.”

Wherever they were, whatever they were doing, every Kathmandu resident can recall the exact moment when the 2015 quake struck.

“I take in stray dogs, so at that time there were about 20 living at my house,” says Anil Chitrakar, who works as an intermediary between local government and international donors such as the World Bank.

“They all started barking like fury, and desperately digging into the earth, so they were a most effective early warning system. Nepalese devote one day every year – called Kukur Puja – to honouring their canines, and you can see why.”

Chitrakar is currently involved in coordinating the gradual restoration of Swayambhunath, a 1,500-year-old religious complex on a hill west of the city centre.

“The stupa had been repaired a couple of years before the quake, but the surrounding buildings suffered badly,” he says.

“All the artefacts had to be moved to somewhere safe, like a monastery or a museum. The National Reconstruction Authority was not properly formed until December, eight months after the disaster, so it was very often ordinary people who pitched in to help.

“What’s more, many Nepalese men, some say as much as 25 per cent, have left the country to find work abroad. Women stepped forward to take their place in the reconstruction efforts, but it took time to train them, and obviously they didn’t become absolute experts in a short space of time. But we’re getting there.”

International experts have also played a significant role in Kathmandu’s restoration, foremost among them Niels Gutschow, who is the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust’s senior architectural adviser.

“My work has mainly been concentrated in Patan, which is one of the main historical sites in Kathmandu,” says Gutschow, 78, a German national who first visited Nepal as a student in 1962 and has devoted much of his life to preserving Kathmandu’s architecture.

“We have been restoring a dozen monuments, and should be finished by sometime next year. We have been lucky in that the original builders used mud rather than cement, so after the structures collapsed we have been able to reuse the bricks, so the renovated structures look authentic.”

He has worked with many of the carpenters for years, since he first began his work in Kathmandu, and he is still working with them, and now with their sons.

“They have a real feeling for aesthetics, as well as the practicalities of their profession, so you can pretty much leave decisions to them,” he says. “The earthquake was a tragedy, but what has been achieved since in the way of restoration is a triumph.”

Gutschow lives part of the year in the town of Bhaktapur, one of the Kathmandu Valley’s medieval treasures, and he remains devoted to the task of conservation, declaring that his work “is not an occupation – it’s a passion”.

“I am an architect and a historian and I write books, and that is what I will continue to do as long as there is breath in my body.”