Nepal protests: 19 dead as Gen Z revolt over social media ban forces PM to resign

Social media blackout, deadly streets, and a government in retreat

Nineteen people are dead and hundreds are hurt after a 24-hour ban on major social media platforms triggered the most intense unrest Nepal has seen in years. The government blocked access to 26 sites, including Facebook, YouTube, and X, saying the companies had not registered under new rules or set up a local liaison. For a country of around 30 million where millions rely on these apps for work, news, and family contact, the blackout landed like a hammer.

By Monday, crowds of mostly young people poured into Kathmandu and several other cities. Protesters broke through barbed wire near the parliament complex, and police responded with tear gas, rubber bullets, water cannons—and, according to Amnesty International, live ammunition. Seventeen people were killed in the capital, with two more fatalities reported in Sunsari and Itahari. Police said about 400 were injured, more than 100 of them officers.

The unrest pushed the government to retreat fast. The ban was lifted one day after it began. The Home Affairs Minister resigned. Then Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli stepped down, blaming what he called “infiltration” among protesters and saying security forces were trying to shield public institutions from arson and vandalism. Curfews are now in place across key cities, and authorities say a panel will investigate what happened in the capital.

These are being called the Nepal protests of Gen Z for a reason. The spark wasn’t only the blackout. For months, young Nepalis have been calling out corruption and dynasty politics online, zeroing in on the lavish lifestyles of politicians’ children—“nepo kids”—while ordinary families juggle rising costs and limited opportunities. Short videos sharply contrasting daily hardships with designer bags and beach photos hit a nerve. TikTok, which was not included in the ban, carried much of this energy even as other platforms went dark.

“This isn’t being done by any political party; it’s purely driven by Gen Z,” protester Taya Chandra Pandey told local media. Activist Priya Sigdel echoed the resolve after the crackdown: those responsible must be held to account, and stepping back now would only reward the same system they’re challenging.

International pressure mounted quickly. The United Nations called for a swift, transparent probe into the use of force. Rights groups demanded a full accounting of who authorized live fire and why. The questions are basic but urgent: Who gave the orders? Were rules of engagement followed? And what protection do civilians have during mass demonstrations?

Why the ban backfired—and what comes next

The ban was justified by officials as regulatory housekeeping: new rules require platforms to register in Nepal and appoint a local liaison so authorities can coordinate on illegal content. But switching off dozens of platforms overnight—without a clear public process or transition—looked less like compliance work and more like a blunt instrument. Small merchants who sell on social pages, freelancers who find clients online, and families split across districts or abroad lost vital channels in an instant.

That’s why the pushback felt bigger than “just the internet.” For young Nepalis who grew up on smartphones, digital spaces are where they organize, learn, earn, and speak. Take those spaces away without consultation and you get a political problem, not a technical one. The Kathmandu Post captured it well: for many, digital freedom equals personal freedom. Cut it off, and you’re not only silencing speech—you’re stepping on identity.

The use-of-force claims could now define the crisis. Amnesty International says live rounds were used; videos from Kathmandu show chaotic scenes of firing and stampedes near parliament barriers. If confirmed, that will raise serious legal issues under Nepal’s own standards for crowd control and international human rights norms. The UN’s demand for a transparent investigation suggests the world will be watching whether this becomes a real accountability process or a paper exercise.

There’s also a political vacuum to address. With the prime minister’s resignation, coalition talks and caretaker arrangements are likely. The immediate test for any incoming leadership is simple: lower the temperature on the streets, set clear rules for the digital space, and engage youth leaders who can carry messages back to their peers. Without that, curfews and inquiries won’t calm much.

Expect a few non-negotiables from the protesters: accountability for the deaths and injuries, compensation for families, a credible timeline for the inquiry, and a rethink of the platform rules. Many will also want a voice in how the government handles “harmful content” versus free expression—because those are the lines that get blurred when rules are rushed and enforcement turns opaque.

As for the tech companies, they face a familiar choice seen in other countries: register and appoint local contacts to keep operating, or risk being throttled or banned. Some may comply if the rules are clear, narrowly tailored, and consistent with privacy and speech protections. Others will balk if they see open-ended demands that could expose users or force heavy-handed takedowns.

On the ground, the human toll is inescapable. Hospitals dealt with head wounds, pellet injuries, and trauma from stampedes. Families were still trying to identify loved ones hours after the clashes. Meanwhile, students and first-time protesters—many who had never set foot in a march before—are openly asking how a regulatory dispute turned into a day of funerals.

Nepal has tried platform restrictions before—Telegram was briefly banned last year amid fraud concerns, and TikTok spent months under a separate suspension before agreeing to local rules. But the scale of this weekend’s move—and the speed of the political fallout—has few parallels in the country’s recent history.

Here’s how the past few days unfolded:

1. Friday: Government blocks 26 social media platforms for not registering or appointing local liaisons.
2. Weekend: Protests swell in Kathmandu and several cities as young people rally against the blackout and corruption.
3. Monday: Demonstrators try to breach parliament barriers; police deploy tear gas, rubber bullets, water cannons, and, according to rights groups, live fire. Casualties mount.
4. Within 24 hours: The ban is lifted. The Home Minister resigns. Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli steps down.
5. Aftermath: Curfews imposed; an inquiry panel is announced. Protesters vow to keep going until there’s accountability and a new approach to digital rights.

The movement isn’t leaderless so much as networked. It lives on phones and in neighborhood groups, in university chats and small business circles. That is why a platform blackout didn’t stop it—it rerouted it. If the next government wants to quiet the streets, it will need to meet this generation where it already is: online, organized, and unwilling to be sidelined.