I don’t know how to explain what the last 72 hours have felt like unless you were here, feet on the ground, breathing in the smoke of burned-out government buildings and watching schoolchildren march past tanks.
I live in Kathmandu, and up until this weekend, we were like a pot left on simmer for two decades—boiling slowly, but no one dared take the lid off. Now it’s exploded.
Let me walk you through what just happened.
How We Got Here
Nepal has been through a lot. A monarchy that fell in the early 2000s. A decade-long civil war. A fragile democracy since 2008 that’s felt more like musical chairs for the same corrupt faces than any kind of real leadership. Every few years we’d get a new Prime Minister, but it was always the same 3 or 4 recycled men in suits, promising change and delivering absolutely nothing.
We’re a country of proud people, but also tired ones. Tired of broken promises. Tired of watching the powerful enrich themselves while we line up for basic services. Tired of knowing our kids will grow up watching the same rich brats post photos from Dubai and Switzerland while they can’t afford tuition.
From 2022 onward, things started bubbling up. Protests, memes, digital organizing. But nothing really stuck—until now.
September 8, 2025: The Kids Marched
Everyone knew something big was coming. TikTok and Instagram had already been banned. People were sharing encrypted messages and old-school pamphlets. Parents whispered about a student-led march scheduled for September 8. Some even encouraged their kids to go. “Maybe this will be different,” they said.
Thousands of students showed up. Eight-year-olds in school uniforms, teenagers with handmade signs, college students shouting chants that hadn’t been heard in the capital since the last revolution. It was peaceful. Hopeful.
And then the police opened fire.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
September 9: Rage Unleashed
The next morning, the dam burst.
Parliament was stormed. Corrupt officials were chased down in the street, their luxury cars flipped and burned. A former Prime Minister’s mansion was set on fire—with his wife still inside. Ministers were dragged from hiding places and beaten by mobs. The army deployed, but didn’t fire. Some of them even helped escort civilians out of danger zones.
It wasn’t about monarchism or Maoism or any “ism” this time. This was pure, people-fueled fury. Decades of betrayal funneled into one furious scream.
No one had planned for the government to fall so fast—but it did. Within 48 hours, the Prime Minister, President, and several top ministers had resigned or fled. As of now, there is no functioning government. Just a country holding its breath.
The Truth About Why This Happened
People on the outside might say this is about poverty, or corruption, or instability. But it’s deeper than that.
It’s about humiliation. Seeing ministers’ kids flaunt Gucci shoes and fly business class while entire villages live without electricity. Watching elites pass laws to control our speech while they build new mansions. Being told to be patient when we’ve already waited a generation.
You can’t kill schoolchildren and expect silence. You can’t steal hope and think people won’t eventually come for your house.
This isn’t foreign interference. This isn’t manufactured. This is us. Our parents. Our neighbors. Our anger. Our pain. Our dreams.
What Comes Next?
No one knows.
There are no clear leaders. The army controls the streets. Some people whisper about restoring the monarchy. Others want a brand-new constitution. Most just want food, safety, and some kind of dignity.
Will the next government be better? Maybe not. Corruption doesn’t vanish overnight.
But for once, people in Nepal aren’t looking at the ground anymore. They’re looking forward—even if it’s through smoke.
And that’s something.