As the dust settles over Nepal’s parliament building, its charred facade is a stark reminder of the fury that erupted across the landlocked Himalayan nation last week. At least 74 people have been killed and hundreds wounded in clashes between police and protesters. The tumult was initially sparked by a 4 September ban on social media platforms but quickly morphed into the all-out exposure of something far deeper: decades of systemic corruption and a complete breakdown of trust between Nepal’s youth and its political elite.

Prime Minister Khadga Prasad Oli stepped down on 9 September, just five days after the social media ban ignited nationwide protests. In his place, former Supreme Court chief justice Sushila Karki was appointed interim prime minister, and the government lifted restrictions on 26 platforms. At 73, Karki became the first woman to lead Nepal, taking the oath of office on 12 September, after a few days of power vacuum and intense negotiations with protest leaders.

The concessions did little to quell the anger on the streets.

“It was necessary to take out this government. We have had enough," Aabhash Raj Lamichhane, a social work student at Khwopa College who helped coordinate student groups during the protests, told The New Humanitarian. “We kept hearing that if we go to government offices, we need to bribe.”

For Nepal’s youth, who account for a little over 20% of the population, the 22-year-old said daily life had become an endless cycle of unemployment, graft, and favouritism: “The government gives jobs and tenders to their own people, and we suffer. They favour relatives and friends and their own political parties.”

#nepobabies

Largely driven by what demonstrators call “Gen Z”, the protests have drawn comparisons to recent youth-led uprisings across South Asia and Indonesia, including the movement that last year toppled Bangladesh’s long-serving autocratic prime minister, Sheikh Hasina. The success of that movement provided a powerful precedent, showing that sustained popular pressure can force even entrenched leaders from power. However, as with the so-called Arab Spring, many of the media headlines have focused on Western and Chinese social media platforms.

On the streets of Kathmandu, protesters speaking to The New Humanitarian said the social media ban on 4 September came shortly after Nepalese youth started seizing on another recent global cultural obsession: the proliferation of nepobabies – or the offspring of already well-known politicians, business titans and celebrities – who use their privilege to land highly-competitive and coveted roles in any number of industries.

From Pakistan to Bangladesh to India to South Korea to the Philippines, and even to the former Western-backed Islamic Republic of Afghanistan, Asian governments have been plagued by dynastic rule and constant games of political musical chairs that see the same familiar faces going from one high-profile post to another. Nepal, say the protesters, was no exception.

“Whenever Oli comes into power, people die," Hem Chaudhary, a Nepalese Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) student who came back to Nepal for his vacation only two months ago, told The New Humanitarian.

Oli, a three-time prime minister, has seen his latest tenure marked by entrenched corruption, economic stagnation, and authoritarianism, explaining why protesters hold him responsible for many of Nepal’s systemic issues.

The viral protest campaign particularly resonated with Nepal’s youth, who – while watching politicians’ children live lavishly abroad – face unemployment rates of 20.8% (one of the highest in the region), according to the World Bank.

As the hashtag #nepobabies began trending in Nepal, the larger Gen Z audience got to know about how these people are making money and going around the world, and this, according to Chaudhary, is what really triggered everyone into action. “There is a stark imbalance between us and nepobabies,” he said.

Apart from lifting the social media ban, protesters demanded that the prime minister resign and that Nepal establish an independent watchdog body to monitor corruption – demands that speak to deeper institutional failures that have plagued the country for decades.

The calls for Oli’s resignation reflected anger at his government’s deadly crackdown, while the demand for an anti-corruption body addressed widespread frustration with existing oversight mechanisms that protesters saw as compromised and ineffective.

“It has moved like a game of musical chairs between three people for 30 years and they never gave a chance to their young politicians. It was a mafia.”

Nepal ranked 107th out of 180 countries in Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index 2024, but the statistics barely capture the lived reality of a system where political connections often matter more than merit, and public resources are routinely diverted for private gain.

“Everybody wanted a change. We knew the country was ruined by corruption and governance,” explained Suman Pandey, 60, vice chairman of the Pacific Asia Tour Association and a 30-year veteran of Nepal’s tourism industry. “It has moved like a game of musical chairs between three people for 30 years and they never gave a chance to their young politicians. It was a mafia.”

Despite some progress on poverty reduction, Nepal remains one of Asia’s poorest countries. Nearly a third (33.1%) of Nepal’s GDP comes from personal remittances, highlighting the scale of migration as young Nepalis seek opportunities abroad, creating both a brain drain and a sense of hopelessness among those who remain.

“The frustration was and is shared by Nepalis across ages, ethnicities, and locations, and the resulting anger too. The outrage was almost universal, and so there was a real mass response,” said Roman Gautam, editor of Himal Southasian, a regional magazine. Speaking from his home in a quiet neighbourhood of Kathmandu, where he has been closely following the unrest, he added: “That’s really the root of young people’s frustration: a political establishment that had proven corrupt and incapable of leading the country in a different direction.”

Rachana Khare, a 29-year-old English language teacher who joined the demonstrations in Kathmandu, said the protests may have been initiated by Gen Z but the vision of a corruption-free Nepal swept across the country. Despite decades of frustration, Khare, who joined her friends in a candlelight vigil to honour those killed in the recent unrest, said Nepalis "are hopeful that we will have a better government in place if this energy can be channelled into sustained pressure for institutional reform".

The political cost of the uprising has been matched by economic devastation, with estimates of collateral damage reaching $21 billion – around half of Nepal’s annual GDP. The protests have left nearly 10,000 Nepalis jobless overnight, with the vital tourism sector suffering 25 billion rupees ($178 million) in damages and auto dealers losing around 15 billion rupees.

A leaderless revolt

What began as a peaceful protest escalated after the government deployed security forces on 8 September, with live fire used against largely unarmed demonstrators. The protesters had no formal leadership, with individuals joining voluntarily – a reflection of both the organic nature of the movement and the complete breakdown of trust in traditional political structures.

This leaderless quality, while demonstrating genuine popular anger, also raises questions about what comes next. Oli’s resignation represents a tactical victory for the protesters, but Nepal’s complex political system means that more profound change may be slow in coming. The UN has expressed readiness to assist Nepal following the deadly protests, highlighting growing international concern about the humanitarian implications of the crisis.

Despite promises of federalism and democratic renewal, the transition has been marked by political instability, with governments changing frequently and little progress on fundamental reforms.

Political instability typically exacerbates existing vulnerabilities, and Nepal’s recent progress on development indicators could be at risk if the crisis deepens. Essential services have already been disrupted, with the country’s main international airport shut for 24 hours during the peak of the violence. The violence has also raised concerns about Nepal’s fragile federal structure. The protests have spread beyond Kathmandu to other major cities, testing the capacity of local governments that are already struggling with limited resources and weak institutional capacity.

But the crisis runs much deeper than digital rights or viral hashtags. To understand why Nepal, a country of 30 million people, exploded, analysts say one must look to structural issues that have festered since the end of the country’s civil war in 2006. Despite promises of federalism and democratic renewal, the transition has been marked by political instability, with governments changing frequently and little progress on fundamental reforms.

Poor governance and structural weaknesses have also shaped Nepal’s ability to respond to humanitarian crises. The country is among the world’s most disaster-prone, facing recurring floods, droughts, landslides, and avalanches, alongside a succession of devastating recent earthquakes – the worst in 2015 when nearly 9,000 people were killed and hundreds of thousands more left homeless. Nepal’s shift to a federal system that same year has drawn criticism for creating gaps in disaster response and humanitarian coordination, with resources often failing to reach municipal levels where they are most urgently needed.

A generation’s awakening, and regional ripples

“We were influenced by several protests in the region, like in Indonesia and Bangladesh," said Ashish Lamichhane, a 28-year-old environmental consultant and member of Nepal’s youth-led movement.

The Indonesian unrest erupted over lawmakers’ housing allowances at almost the same time as Nepal’s #nepobabies campaign. As in Nepal, the Indonesian protests intensified after the police were accused of civilian killing: In their case, an armoured police vehicle fatally crushed a motorcycle taxi driver, Affan Kurniawan. The news of 21-year-old Kurniawan’s death struck a chord with Nepal’s youth, who face similar economic pressures in the growing global gig economy.

The success of Nepal’s protesters in forcing a prime minister’s resignation is now likely to reverberate across South Asia, where similar patterns of youth-driven activism have emerged in recent years. From Sri Lanka to Bangladesh, young people have shown they can mobilise quickly using digital tools, and sustain pressure on governments they see as illegitimate.

In Nepal, the youth movement’s immediate priority now seems to be establishing a government that can credibly claim to represent change while maintaining stability. This will require not just new faces, but new approaches to governance that prioritise transparency, accountability, and youth inclusion.

“Gen Z broke the wall and now they want experts to take over. No corruption and no bad governance,” said Pandey, representing an older generation that has also grown frustrated with the status quo. “People will come back after they see things are better here.”

Observers say what happened in Nepal last week was not just about social media access or even corruption in isolation. It was about a generation that has grown up with democratic promises but experienced democratic failures, that has digital connectivity but limited economic opportunity, and that has seen their counterparts across the region successfully challenge entrenched power.

Speaking to The New Humanitarian, Paul Staniland, associate professor of political science at the University of Chicago, sees these movements as part of a new politics of instability resulting from the inability of governments to deliver sustained economic growth, quality public services, or a sense of meaningful political representation.

“When protests surged around a particular trigger, the governments found themselves more and more isolated,” said Staniland, whose research focuses on political violence and international security in South Asia. “In the most dramatic cases of Nepal and Bangladesh, the political system essentially collapsed and the military became the kingmaker in negotiating a transition.”

Additional reporting by Mir Wafa Rasheeq. Edited by Ali M. Latifi.