Kathmandu is in turmoil. In the past week, the Himalayan republic has witnessed one of its most dramatic uprisings since the end of the monarchy. What began as a protest against a government-imposed social media ban has escalated into a nationwide revolt against corruption, nepotism, and the country’s ageing political elite. By the end of the week, Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli had resigned, dozens of protesters were dead, government buildings were set on fire, and Nepal was facing questions about whether this was a spontaneous youth-led revolution or a carefully engineered regime change with international fingerprints.
The events have moved at lightning speed, catching even seasoned observers off guard. The protests are being led largely by Nepal’s Gen Z – young men and women who feel excluded from political life, robbed of economic opportunities, and suffocated by corruption. The uprising has shaken not only Nepal’s ruling class but also its neighbours, especially India and China, who are watching the unrest with unease.
Social Media Ban
The immediate trigger came in late August 2025, when Oli’s government blocked access to 26 major social media platforms including Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, YouTube, Reddit, and X. Officials said these platforms had failed to register locally and were being used to spread misinformation, hate speech, and cybercrime. Yet the ban exempted TikTok, the Chinese-owned app, which had complied with local rules. That exemption raised eyebrows, feeding speculation about Kathmandu’s growing closeness to Beijing.
At midnight on September 4, the ban came into effect. For a country where 90 percent of the population uses the internet, the blackout was like pulling the plug on daily life. Students who rely on WhatsApp groups for classwork, small businesses that operate through Facebook pages, and families spread across the world who stay connected through video calls suddenly found themselves cut off. To many, the move felt less like regulation and more like an attempt to silence dissent.
For Gen Z, who live their lives online, the ban was a direct attack. VPN downloads surged overnight, and TikTok became the platform of protest. Videos mocking the ban, memes exposing corruption, and calls for a mass rally in Kathmandu began circulating almost immediately. What the government had hoped would control online anger instead poured fuel on the fire.
On September 8, thousands of young people poured into the streets of Kathmandu. Many were teenagers in school uniforms, others were university students, job seekers, and recent graduates. They carried Nepali flags, placards reading “Shut down corruption – not social media,” and banners declaring themselves “Youths Against Corruption.” The mood was initially energetic, even festive, but the demands were serious: lift the ban, punish corrupt leaders, and secure a future for Nepal’s young generation.
As the crowd marched toward Parliament, security forces erected barricades. When a section of protesters pushed forward, police responded with tear gas and water cannons. Then the situation escalated. Witnesses reported that live ammunition was fired into the crowd. By nightfall, hospitals were overflowing with the wounded, and at least 22 people were confirmed dead, many of them barely out of their teens.
From his hospital bed, Saurav, an 18-year-old student, described how a fellow protester in front of him was shot in the chest and died instantly. “I was screaming in pain after pellets hit my hand,” he said. “It was unnecessary. Killing people is not humanity. It is disgusting.”
The violence shocked the country. Videos of students with gunshot wounds spread online through VPNs. Influencers accused police of storming hospitals and harassing families. Hashtags like #HatyaraSarkar (“Murderer Government”) and #ResignKPOli trended across South Asia.
The Fall of Oli
The bloodshed turned the protests into a national uprising. By the next day, Oli’s position was untenable. Demonstrators defied curfews and set fire to government ministries at Singha Durbar, the administrative heart of Kathmandu. Protesters scaled gates, waved the national flag, and sang the anthem while smoke billowed from burning offices.
The homes of senior politicians were also attacked, including that of former Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and President Ram Chandra Paudel. A private school owned by Foreign Minister Arzu Rana Deuba was torched. The scale of destruction shocked many, but for protesters it symbolised the fall of a corrupt order.
On September 9, Oli announced his resignation, ending his fourth term in humiliation. Three ministers had already quit, including Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak, who admitted “moral responsibility” for the killings. By then, the social media ban had been lifted, but it was too late.
The face of this movement is Nepal’s youth. They are called “Gen Z protesters,” but their anger runs deeper than hashtags. For years, Nepali social media has seethed with frustration at political families enriching themselves while ordinary people struggle. A campaign called “Nepo Kids” exposed how children of politicians flaunted luxury cars, foreign degrees, and lavish parties. Viral TikTok clips contrasted these lifestyles with the struggles of ordinary youth, many of whom leave Nepal for work abroad.
In 2024–25 alone, more than 740,000 Nepalis left the country for foreign employment. Corruption scandals, such as the $71 million embezzlement in the Pokhara airport project and a scam in which politicians disguised job seekers as Bhutanese refugees, only deepened the anger. For young protesters, corruption is not abstract. It means unaffordable healthcare, high prices in Kathmandu, shortages of fertiliser, and lack of decent jobs.
Sujan Dahal, one of the protesters celebrating Oli’s downfall, said: “The government was corrupt. They improved their own lives, but nothing changed for ordinary people. This is our revolution. It’s our turn now.”
Theories and Geopolitics
While young Nepalis see the protests as their own movement, others suggest external hands may be involved. Some international observers compared the uprising to “colour revolutions” that have toppled governments aligned with Beijing or Moscow. On Reddit and Twitter, users pointed out that Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Myanmar, and now Nepal have all seen leadership changes in recent years, prompting speculation about a coordinated push for regime change in South Asia.
Left-leaning commentators argue that far-right Hindutva groups in India may have exploited the unrest to weaken Oli, who was seen as leaning toward China. Others claim the violence was instigated by royalist factions hoping for a return of the monarchy. Oli himself blamed “vested interest groups” for hijacking the peaceful protests.
With Oli gone, Nepal has entered uncertain territory. On September 12, former Chief Justice Sushila Karki was sworn in as interim Prime Minister after a meeting between President Paudel, the army, and youth representatives. Karki, 73, is respected for her integrity and plain-speaking record. Her appointment was welcomed cautiously, with many hoping she will steer the country toward stability.
Curfews in Kathmandu have now been lifted. Shops and markets have reopened, and the city is slowly returning to life. But the scars of the uprising are everywhere: burnt-out cars, charred government offices, and families mourning the dead.
India and China React
India was quick to congratulate Karki. Prime Minister Narendra Modi said New Delhi remains committed to Nepal’s peace and progress, framing the transition as a step toward stability. The Ministry of External Affairs expressed hope that Nepal’s democracy would strengthen.
China, by contrast, has been muted. Observers note that TikTok’s exemption from the ban highlights Nepal’s alignment with Beijing’s regulatory style. Oli had just returned from Shanghai days before the protests erupted, which has only deepened speculation about the China angle.
