Last week, some of the junior colleagues at our think tank in Kathmandu were discussing the GenZ protests that were scheduled for September 9. As someone without an Instagram or TikTok account, I listened to their conversation with interest but did not think much about the scheduled protest. On Monday, as the #GenZprotests began trending on X (Twitter), I even joked that it had become a norm for protests in Nepal to end by 5 p.m. By late afternoon, however, graphic footage of students killed with gunshots to their heads sent the entire nation into tragic shock. Some of them were underage school kids in uniform.
Hospitals across Kathmandu valley were overwhelmed, with over 250 injured students being rushed into emergency and intensive care, where at least 19 succumbed to bullet wounds. As the sun set over the valley, people feared in silence for tomorrow. The government had banned social media apps (Facebook, X, Instagram, and WhatsApp), citing regulatory issues, which had triggered the protests. But clearly, those in the government had little clue how easy it was for tech-savvy GenZ to bypass the ban. My colleagues told me that the protests were not just about the government regulations but against the corrupt political class and their privileged ‘Nepo Kids’ flaunting wealth on social media. I went to bed that night watching distressing clips of siblings and friends swearing revenge against the government and the police, the next day.