Nepal’s Gen Z erupts: 19 dead as anger over corruption and a sweeping social media ban boils over

Kathmandu woke up to a youth-led political earthquake — and by nightfall, it had turned deadly. At least 19 people were killed and more than 100 injured on Monday as thousands of mostly young Nepalis packed the streets around Parliament to protest corruption and the government’s sudden blockade of major social media platforms. Curfews, rubber bullets, tear gas, water cannons — and, by afternoon, live fire — turned the capital into a crisis zone.

By 9 a.m., students in uniforms, twenty-somethings with flags, and young professionals had converged on Maitighar Mandala — an iconic roundabout that has become Kathmandu’s default protest ground. Organizers framed it as a “Gen Z” rally: a leaderless push born on TikTok and group chats against graft and what they see as an increasingly heavy hand online.

The mood shifted fast. As crowds marched toward New Baneshwor, where Parliament sits, some tore through police barricades and briefly breached part of the complex. That’s when riot police escalated — tear gas first, then water cannons and rubber bullets. By early afternoon, gunfire. Hospitals across the city reported waves of casualties with head and chest wounds; doctors at the National Trauma Centre said several were critical.

Authorities imposed a rolling curfew from 12:30 p.m. to 10 p.m., first around Parliament, then expanding it to Singha Durbar (the government secretariat), the presidential residence (Shital Niwas), and the vice president’s residence in Lainchaur. A small army unit backed up police near Parliament as evening fell. Protests flared in other cities too — including Itahari, where police said two people were killed.

Two words: corruption and control.

For years, young Nepalis have watched high-profile scandals come and go without closure — the poster child being the 2017 Nepal Airlines Airbus A330 deal that a constitutional watchdog later said cost the state 1.47 billion rupees (~$10.4 million). Scandals trend, speeches are made, but consequences often feel cosmetic. Add a weak job market and insider-driven appointments, and you get a generation that feels locked out.

Then came the trigger: a social media blackout. On September 4, the government told 26 platforms — including Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, WhatsApp and LinkedIn — to register locally or be blocked. The rules require naming a local contact, a grievance handler, and a person responsible for “self-regulation.” When most missed the September 3 deadline, the telecom regulator moved to shut them down. Officials say the goal is to curb fake accounts, hate speech, scams and “disruption of social harmony.” TikTok, Viber and a few others have reportedly registered and remain up; many people are routing around the blocks with VPNs.

For a country where about 90% of citizens are online and 7.5% live abroad, platforms like Messenger, WhatsApp and Viber are family lifelines and small-business storefronts. Pulling the plug overnight felt less like “management” and more like a muzzle, protesters said. The signs wrote themselves: “Shut down corruption, not social media,” “Unban social media,” “Youth against corruption.”

Multiple students described an “unprecedented” turnout.

“By early afternoon it was chaos — tear gas and rubber bullets everywhere,” said Sudipa Mahato, 20, who said she and friends ducked into alleys to find safety.

Another attendee said he saw “physically well-built guys” on loud motorcycles sowing confusion before barricades fell — a claim we can’t independently verify. Organizers, including youth-led nonprofit Hami Nepal, emphasized the protest had no party affiliation.

Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli didn’t help the mood. Before the march, he dismissed the youth organizers as incapable of independent thought. Afterward, his government called an emergency cabinet meeting. Amnesty International urged an independent investigation into what it called “unlawful use of lethal and less-lethal force.”

The Communications Ministry says it isn’t “banning social media” so much as forcing compliance: register, accept local liability, and respond to takedown requests under Nepali law. Critics see a sledgehammer — a fast track to political censorship dressed up as safety. Nepal has been here before: TikTok was banned in 2023 for harming “social harmony,” then reinstated nine months later after the app agreed to comply with local rules. This time, the net is wider and the timeline shorter.

Officials argue the crackdown targets fake accounts, misinformation and online fraud. Rights groups counter that the cure is worse than the disease — and, as Monday showed, it comes with a heavy political cost.

The toll — and the optics

• Deaths and injuries: Police and hospital officials reported at least 19 dead and more than 100 injured by nightfall in Kathmandu; two additional deaths were reported in Itahari. Doctors described gunshot wounds to the head and chest and overflowing emergency wards. At least 28 police officers were among the injured.
• Damage and arrests: An ambulance was set on fire near Parliament, and protesters were seen ferrying the wounded by motorcycle. Dozens of arrests were reported amid the curfew and clashes.
• Security response: Tear gas, water cannons, batons, rubber bullets — and live rounds when crowds surged into restricted zones. Curfews were extended to key state precincts; troops appeared around Parliament.

Social feeds didn’t create the rage; they gave it a microphone. Gen Z protesters name-check Sri Lanka and Bangladesh — two countries where youth-driven street movements helped topple governments in 2022 and 2024 — as inspiration. They point to viral videos of politicians’ children living lavishly while per capita income lingers around $1,300. They complain of paying taxes without transparency. In short: the ban lit a match in a room already filled with fumes.

Expect intense pressure for an independent probe into police use of live fire and crowd-control weapons, with hospital records and street videos as evidence. Parliament will debate a bill to “manage” platforms — requiring liaison offices and compliance pipelines. After Monday, the politics of that bill just got harder.

Meta, Google/YouTube and others must choose: register and localize liability, risk a drawn-out block, or sue and stall. Authorities may extend restrictions if protests regroup; organizers could pivot to decentralized, pop-up actions.

With so many families and microbusinesses dependent on social apps, prolonged blocks will have a real-world cost.

Nepal’s government tried to corral the internet. It ended up mobilizing a generation. The Monday clashes weren’t just about Facebook and YouTube; they were a referendum on trust — in institutions, in policing, and in leaders’ willingness to listen. Until corruption cases reach real conclusions and the state treats speech as a right to steward rather than a threat to smother, the streets won’t stay quiet — with or without social media.

Al Jazeera, Reuters, CNN, BBC, and the New York Times contributed to this report.