Angry youth in the Himalayan nation bordering India and China have forced a political shake-up hoping to end corruption and impoverishment
A week ago, Bikram Paudel’s social media timelines and multimedia messaging applications started getting flooded with a protest call. The messages were clear, blunt, and urgent: turn up on the streets, resist the government’s attempt to ban social media sites, and register your anger.
Bikram, a student of hotel management from Lalitpur district who now lives in Kathmandu, admits he was not sure at first whether he should join the demonstration scheduled for Monday. But as the messages spread like wildfire, and as his friends forwarded video after video exposing corruption at the top, he felt he had no choice but to join.
The protests, driven largely by teenagers and twenty-somethings, erupted in response to the government’s sweeping ban on 26 online platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and X, after the companies refused to register their operations in Nepal. Within 48 hours, the protest swelled into the largest demonstration Nepal has seen in years, forcing the resignation of Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli on Tuesday.
The army has effectively taken control. On Wednesday, representatives of the protesters met with Nepali Army Chief Ashokraj Sigdel to discuss interim leadership. The protesters have proposed former Chief Justice Sushila Karki as their sole nominee for interim prime minister.
Bikram says the protests were never just about the social media ban. They were about power, accountability, and dignity. “I was convinced to join because the government thought banning social media would silence us,” Bikram recalls. “They forgot that this generation is aware. We know how much corruption they are doing, how they are robbing the nation, and how they wanted to hide it. We could not stay quiet.”
“I am happy for the change,” Bikram says softly over the phone. “But I am more sad for those people who were killed by the armed forces. I keep thinking of them and those still fighting for their lives in hospitals. We never thought peaceful protest would meet bullets.”
Among those who witnessed the bloodshed firsthand was Ishita Shreshta, a 26-year-old receptionist at one of Kathmandu’s top restaurants. She joined the rally on Monday, never expecting to see people shot in front of her eyes.
“We were at a distance when suddenly people started running in every direction,” she recalls. “The protest was absolutely peaceful, but then it seemed like some people deliberately incited the forces. Suddenly I saw people carrying a young boy who was bleeding profusely from his chest. I could not believe it was happening.”
The protests were driven by young Nepalis who had grown up connected to the world through phones and apps. For them, the social media ban was not just a technical inconvenience, it was a direct assault on their freedom and ability to organize.
“We may be jobless, but we have the power of social media to influence,” Ishita says. “We can reach our brothers and sisters across the country in seconds. That is our weapon.”
Media dubbed the unrest a “Gen Z” protest, in a nod to the generation born between 1997 and 2012 – though the name may also be tied to the Facebook group “Gen-Z Nepal,” where open calls for demonstrations were posted. “Be ready for the protest Gen Z. Unity can change anything let’s go..,” a September 7 post declared.
For Ishita, the decision to protest also came after months of quietly seething at the government. “I had been watching TikTok, Instagram reels – people exposing the lavish lifestyles of politicians. Their mansions, their cars, their expensive watches, all built on the money they looted from innocent citizens. They fooled us. They thought making one small minister resign would be enough. But we are not stupid anymore.”
Media reports also pointed to the NGO Hami Nepal as a key organizer. Founded informally in 2015 and registered in 2020, it is chaired by philanthropist Sudhan Gurung and first gained visibility for its disaster relief work. On Instagram, the group called for protests at Maitighar Mandala on September 8, uploaded “how to protest” videos, and urged students to join with college bags, books and uniforms. Protesters carried “Youths Against Corruption” banners, reportedly linked to the NGO.
Later, Hami Nepal posted that it had “collaborated” with the army to help restore calm and that talks between Gen Z representatives and the military would begin. According to The Commune, Hami Nepal has been backed by businessmen including Deepak Bhatta – allegedly tied to a controversial arms procurement deal – and Sulav Agrawal of the Shanker Group, who was arrested during Covid-19 for alleged black-market sales of thermometer guns. It has also received support from Dr. Sanduk Ruit – an ophthalmologist and Magsaysay Award laureate; the award is notable for its Cold War ties to US influence.
The resignation of K.P. Sharma Oli marks yet another chapter in Nepal’s revolving-door politics. Oli, who has faced accusations of authoritarian tendencies before, underestimated the power of digital organizing. His attempt to silence criticism by banning platforms backfired dramatically.
Now, Kathmandu is witnessing a scramble for power. After Oli’s resignation, all eyes turned to Kathmandu Mayor Balendra Shah, known as Balen. The 35-year-old civil engineer and rapper won the 2022 mayoral race as an independent, cultivating a youth-first image through anti-corruption messaging and bold clean-up drives. Known for his blunt speeches and street credibility, Shah has begun dialogues with student leaders and opposition figures.
Among them is Ravi Lamichhane, a controversial politician who was recently released from prison. Talks are underway to form an interim government that can stabilize the country until elections are held.
The mood in Kathmandu remains tense. Funerals for those killed have turned into rallies. Hospitals remain crowded with the injured. Families grieve while also demanding accountability. On Thursday, a new wave of violence was reported. The protesters reportedly clashed near army headquarters amid suspense over the interim prime minister and several names of frontrunners.
For Bikram, Ishita, and thousands of others, the resignation of a prime minister is not enough. They want systemic change — transparency, jobs, and dignity. Whether that demand translates into policy remains uncertain. “We forced a resignation,” Bikram says. “Now we need to force honesty. That will be even harder.”
