Beyond Silence: Nepal’s Gen Z Demands Change

On September 8, 2025, the Nepalese Parliament — along with many other government buildings — was set ablaze in Nepal’s massive “Gen Z” protests. The initially peaceful anti-corruption demonstrations against a social media ban quickly turned violent as armed forces fired on crowds in the capital city of Kathmandu. With dozens killed (around 19 to 21) and hundreds injured, that day sparked nationwide unrest, government resignations, and a shift towards further chaos. This escalation led to the additional destruction of government property, attacks on officials, and a curfew enforced by the Nepali army. This landmark event for much of Generation Z was characterized by a transition from a digital outrage to direct street action. This movement reflected a broader global trend of youth-led uprisings — sometimes called the “Asian Spring” — that utilize technology to bypass traditional political structures. While led by Gen Z, support was drawn from older generations and even some civil servants, as there was a sense of overall frustration regarding corruption and inequality across Nepal. The uprising is viewed as part of a global wave of 2025 Gen Z protests — including those in Morocco, Kenya, Bangladesh, and Madagascar — where young people facing “dystopian” futures (high rents, AI-driven job threats, and corruption) are increasingly willing to use confrontational tactics to force systemic change.

To better understand youth sentiment in Nepal, I turn to final-year law student and youth advocate Dikshya to provide firsthand insight into the movement and the Gen Z perspective. She was there that day and hadn’t participated in the protest out of impulse. She came because, like many young Nepalis, she felt she had no other choice.

Dikshya, final year law student and youth activist in Kathmandu, Nepal.

Born in the early 2000s as the eldest child in her family, responsibility shaped her early. Being the first meant understanding that her actions carried weight — not only for herself, but for her siblings who looked up to her. Growing up in Nepal meant witnessing constant government transitions, uncertainty, and moments of national trauma, including the 2015 earthquake that left lasting effects on communities across the country. These weren’t distant events, but lived realities.

As a member of the first generation raised entirely in the digital age, she rejects the idea that Gen Z is ignorant and “glued to their phones”. If anything, she argues, the opposite is true. Constant exposure has made young people very aware — sometimes painfully so — of injustice, inequality, and corruption, both at home and globally. That awareness accompanies exhaustion, but it also drives action.

Her academic journey reflects that mindset. Over the past five years, she has studied Nepal’s legal system and history in depth while working closely with female-led organizations and NGOs advocating for equality and human rights. Through this work, she has seen firsthand how systems fail those they are supposed to serve. In Nepal, lack of decent economic opportunities drives many young people to seek a future abroad. Nearly a quarter of those aged 15–24 were unemployed — almost double the national rate — and 35.7% of youth were not in employment, education, or training, according to a 2023 national survey, trends closely tied to rising labor migration (World Bank, 2024). In a developing country where opportunities are scarce, success often feels as though it exists elsewhere, outside the country. She expresses that: “watching family and friends migrate abroad for opportunities that don't exist here, it's disheartening”. She confesses that at times, the situation can make her feel hopeless.

Yet it was this exact feeling of loss that sharpened her resolve.

The protest on September 8 did not appear out of nowhere. Youth unemployment, blatant corruption, and the public display of wealth by politicians and their families — often trending online under the hashtag “NepoKids” — had reached a breaking point. Dikshya remembers when the government banned major social media platforms on September 4, it felt like an attempt to silence the only space where young people could organize, connect, and speak freely.

“When your future feels stolen and your voice is literally blocked, taking to the streets isn’t a choice — it’s what’s left.”

— Dikshya, law student and youth activist, Nepal

She emphasized that the ban felt like the “ultimate dismissal” because for many with family working abroad these platforms are not luxuries, but lifelines.

She joined the protest on the 8th, standing among thousands who shared the same anger and fear for the future. But by the following day, escalating violence, curfews, and police going door-to-door made it too dangerous for her to return. “Being a girl living alone in Kathmandu, it just became too risky after what happened” she stated.

Following the protests, Gen Z's unique approach to activism was revealed. Young people across Nepal gathered not in formal meetings, but on Discord servers. Thousands of Nepali youth debated policies, vetted leaders, and even discussed who should be the next Prime Minister. Dikshya reflects, “We’re on Discord at 2 AM like ‘okay, let’s crowdsource this decision’ with people jumping in from all over Nepal.” It's chaotic, imperfect, and undeniably Gen Z. Where older generations relied on closed-door negotiations and hierarchical leadership, this movement thrived on decentralization and open discussion.

There was no single leader to arrest, no head to cut off. The movement belonged to everyone. Group chats replaced committees, memes exposed corruption, and screenshots of politicians’ social media posts became evidence. Gen Z didn’t wait for the system to respond, but built spaces where accountability could exist in real time.

Impatience, she believes, is not a flaw. Being told “change takes time” rings hollow when inequality is so visible. Still, Gen Z refuses to let activism consume their entire identity. They protest fiercely and then return to their lives, their studies, their coffee posts. The system may be broken, but it does not get to define their existence.

Dikshya knows the weight of caring so deeply. Hyperawareness comes with mental strain, and she admits she may one day seek opportunities abroad. But wherever she goes, she is determined to create value. For her, the goal is not blind loyalty to a country, but the belief that staying in Nepal should be a real choice — not the consequence of being unable to leave.

The September 8 protest reaffirms what she had always believed: Gen Z in Nepal is informed, connected, and will not accept injustice quietly. They are criticized for caring too loudly, but silence, to them, is no longer a plausible option. If change is coming, it will not arrive passively. It will come by any means necessary — whether online, in the streets, or wherever power can no longer ignore.

To learn more or support youth-led initiatives focused on political accountability and anti-corruption advocacy, consider the work of Transparency International, a global network dedicated to empowering people to challenge corruption and promote transparency through collective action and civic engagement. You can also visit the Resource Hub under One of Many’s Take Action tab for more ways to engage with global youth-led movements for accountability and systemic change.