PM Oli quits, Parliament torched as Nepal uprising spirals

The streets of Kathmandu are burning. Flames have engulfed Singha Durbar, the historic seat of government, as well as the parliament building in New Baneshwor, the Supreme Court, and the Prime Minister’s residence in Baluwatar together with business houses and industrial showrooms. Political party leaders who have been accused of massive corruption and amassing of wealth have been attacked openly by mobs.

According to Firstpost, Ravi Laxmi Chitrakar, wife of senior CPN (Unified Socialist) leader Jhal Nath Khanal, was burned alive inside her home. Political leaders and their families, including Nepali Congress president Sher Bahadur Deuba and foreign minister Arzoo Rana Deuba, have been attacked and injured. The personal residences of former Prime Minister KP Oli and Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal “Prachanda” have also been vandalised.

These shocking scenes of arson and vandalism are being attributed to Gen Z protesters, who have been on the streets since September 8. However, the movement’s organisers have publicly denied involvement, insisting they remain committed to a peaceful campaign to unseat a government they view as irreparably corrupt.

For many Nepalese, the night of September 8 was sleepless. Some mourned the deaths of their children and grandchildren. Others were unable to escape the collective grief. The killing of 19 young protesters — many still wearing school uniforms — marks one of the darkest days in the country’s history.

These children did not march merely because social media had been banned. They were protesting years of unchecked corruption, growing inequality, and the widening gulf between ordinary Nepalese and the political elite. While the children of politicians flaunt their privilege on social media, millions of youth still struggle to secure food, education and jobs, forcing many to leave the country for work or study.

Gen Z’s demands were simple: A government free of corruption, accountable leadership and the right to live, study and work with dignity in their own country. Instead, they were met with gunfire.

The most haunting question for Nepal today is: How could the state security forces — funded by taxpayer money — open fire on their own children? Why were they ordered to shoot when protesters neared the parliament building? Could they not have been stopped earlier, without lethal force?

Even if some students had entered parliament, what harm could they have done? Should they not have been allowed to meet the leaders who claim to represent them? In a functioning democracy, elected representatives would have come out to speak with these young people —just as parents calm their children when they are upset.

Instead, the Oli-led government stood firm and ordered the shooting, shattering 19 families and millions of hearts. But the stance did not hold for long. On September 9, defying the curfew, Gen Z returned to the streets, demanding the resignation of the entire Cabinet. One by one, ministers stepped down. Finally, around 2 pm, Prime Minister KP Oli resigned. President Ram Chandra Paudel accepted his resignation and asked him to facilitate the handover of power to an interim administration. Oli and his wife are now reportedly in the custody of the Nepalese army.

At present, the Nepalese army is the only functioning institution maintaining order. Though Nepal’s President is normally a ceremonial figure, the army operates under his authority. Army chief Ashok Raj Sigdel addressed the nation around 9 pm on September 9, urging calm, assuring citizens that the military would restore peace, and inviting Gen Z to enter dialogue so that an interim government could be formed.

It is still unclear who will represent Gen Z in such talks, as their mobilisation was spontaneous — sparked by online calls that grew into mass protests. The death toll, which began with 19 on September 8, has now risen to over 30, including both protesters and security personnel.

Some public figures such as Kathmandu’s millennial mayor (respected among Gen Z), renowned ophthalmologist Dr Sanduk Ruit and former Nepal Electricity Authority head Kul Man Ghising are urging protesters to engage with the President and the army chief to chart a peaceful way forward. Yet, many in Gen Z worry that their movement may be hijacked by right-wing political parties or opportunistic power brokers.

Nepal’s delicate geopolitical position further complicates matters. Sandwiched between India and China, every major political crisis raises suspicion of foreign interference. While Gen Z’s uprising is unmistakably homegrown, many fear that outside powers could exploit the turmoil to advance their own interests. This makes it all the more urgent for Nepal to find solutions from within — rebuilding governance structures that genuinely serve its citizens and insulating the country from unnecessary external meddling.

Gen Z has shown remarkable courage, but their movement now stands at a crossroads. Nepal’s leaders — civilian and military alike — must ensure that the bloodshed of September 8 is not repeated, that accountability is delivered, and that a mechanism is created to give youth a voice in shaping the future. Only then can the country honour the memory of those who died and begin the work of building a more just and inclusive Nepal.