Tragedy struck Nepal’s capital as violent protests claimed the life of Rabi Laxmi Chitrakar, wife of former Prime Minister Jhalanath Khanal, in a horrifying act of arson.
India TV reported that the small Himalayan nation, nestled between China and India, has been rocked by deadly anti-government demonstrations that started over a social media ban, spiraled into chaos over corruption and elite privilege, led to Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli’s resignation, and culminated in brutal attacks on political figures and their properties, including the fatal burning of Chitrakar’s home.
On Monday, September 8, 2025, the unrest began when young Nepalis, dubbed the “Gen Z protesters,” took to the streets in outrage over a government order forcing social media platforms like Facebook and YouTube to register under tight official control. The ban on these platforms was a spark that lit a fire of deeper discontent with the ruling class. It’s no surprise—when governments try to muzzle free speech, the backlash is often louder than ever.
By Tuesday, September 9, 2025, the social media restrictions were reversed, but the damage was done. Protests morphed into full-blown “anti-corruption” rallies, with anger fueled by years of perceived elitism among Nepal’s leaders. This isn’t just about apps; it’s about a generation fed up with being silenced and governed by the same old cronies.
The demonstrations turned violent quickly, with police firing on crowds and killing 19 protesters. That kind of heavy-handed response only pours fuel on the fire—when will governments learn that bullets don’t solve grievances? It’s a tragic cycle of escalation that’s all too familiar in regions struggling for accountability.
Protesters didn’t stop at marches; they stormed key symbols of power like the parliament building, the president’s residence, and even the prime minister’s official home. They forced the closure of Kathmandu’s airport and torched the residences of senior leaders. This level of destruction shows a rage that’s been simmering far longer than any social media policy could provoke.
In one of the most heartbreaking incidents, Rabi Laxmi Chitrakar was caught in the crosshairs of this fury when protesters set her house ablaze in Kathmandu’s Dallu area on Tuesday. She suffered severe burns and, despite being rushed to medical care, tragically passed away. No policy disagreement justifies such a personal and devastating loss.
Elsewhere, Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli’s own home was set on fire, a symbolic attack that likely pushed his decision to step down that same day. “I am stepping down,” Oli declared, a statement that sounds more like surrender than leadership. But when your house is literally burning, what choice do you have?
Let’s not pretend this resignation fixes anything—it’s a Band-Aid on a gaping wound of distrust. The political elite in Nepal, much like in many nations, seems disconnected from the people they claim to serve. Oli’s exit might calm the streets momentarily, but the root issues of corruption and overreach aren’t going away overnight.
The violence wasn’t limited to property damage; it got personal for many in power. Finance Minister Bishnu Prasad Paudel, 65, was chased through Kathmandu’s streets and beaten by demonstrators—a stark image of public anger boiling over. While no one should condone mob justice, it’s hard to ignore the message: people feel betrayed by those at the top.
Other politicians and former officials faced brutal assaults as well, with some ministers needing evacuation by army helicopters to escape the chaos. This isn’t just a protest; it’s a near-revolution against a system many see as rotten. When leaders need military choppers to save them, you know the social contract is in tatters.
The so-called “Gen Z protests” have exposed a generational divide, where young Nepalis reject the status quo and demand transparency. It’s a reminder that heavy-handed policies, like social media censorship, often backfire spectacularly. Governments might want to control narratives, but they can’t control the streets when push comes to shove.
Even with the social media ban lifted, rallies continue across Nepal, signaling that the unrest is far from over. The killing of protesters, the attacks on leaders, and the tragic death of Rabi Laxmi Chitrakar have left scars that won’t heal with a simple policy reversal. This is a nation at a crossroads, grappling with how to balance authority and accountability.
From a conservative lens, Nepal’s turmoil is a cautionary tale about government overreach and the dangers of stifling dissent. Progressive agendas that prioritize control over freedom—whether through tech censorship or otherwise—often breed resentment, not compliance. It’s a lesson leaders worldwide should heed before their own streets start burning.
Yet, there must be empathy for the personal toll of this violence, especially for families like the Khanals who’ve lost loved ones most horrifically. Stability won’t return through force or quick fixes; it demands genuine dialogue and reform. Nepal’s leaders, and indeed all of us watching, must prioritize rebuilding trust over clinging to power—or risk more ashes in the aftermath.
