The streets of Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK), have erupted in a wave of youthful defiance not seen in the region for years. What started as a routine protest over university fee hikes and exam chaos at the University of Azad Jammu & Kashmir (UAJK) has mushroomed into a full-blown uprising led by Gen Z activists. The movement, echoing the spirit of recent youth-led revolutions in Nepal and Bangladesh, is rattling the corridors of power in Islamabad and raising uncomfortable questions about governance, accountability, and the future of Pakistan's control over the disputed territory.
The spark for this latest unrest was a digital misstep. Earlier this month, UAJK students took to the streets after the introduction of a new 'e-marking' digital assessment system led to a six-month delay in exam results. According to MENAFN and India Blooms News Service (IBNS), thousands of students found themselves staring at inexplicably low scores—or, in some cases, learning they had passed subjects they never even took. The Board of Intermediate and Secondary Education in Mirpur scrambled to form a review committee, but by then, the damage was done. Students’ trust in the system had been shattered.
Fuel was added to the fire when the government imposed a rechecking fee of Rs 1,500 per subject, a sum that many families in the region simply couldn’t afford. The university administration tried to douse the flames, denying rumors of a 60% fee hike and clarifying that only a 10% annual increase had been implemented. A proposed Rs 1,000 transport fee was quickly withdrawn in the face of backlash. In an official statement, UAJK suspended teaching activities at its Chella campus “to ensure the safety and security of students, faculty, and staff,” and called on law enforcement to act against “those responsible for the violence.”
But these measures barely made a dent in the anger. Students continued their demonstrations, decrying not just the exam fiasco and fee hikes, but also poor infrastructure, lack of transport, and what they called administrative apathy. As IBNS reported, the movement quickly broadened beyond campus grievances, tapping into deep-seated frustrations over corruption, unemployment, and chronic mismanagement that have long plagued PoK.
The situation took a violent turn on November 4, 2025. Gunfire erupted at a protest site, injuring one student. Eyewitnesses, according to Kashmir Digital, alleged that a man named Raja Mamoon Fahad opened fire on the crowd before fleeing the scene—while police officers, despite being stationed just yards away, did not intervene. Videos of the chaos flooded social media, showing panicked students scrambling for cover. In the aftermath, demonstrators set tyres ablaze, blocked roads, and chanted anti-government and anti-army slogans, demanding justice and accountability.
“The core issues behind the university students’ demonstrations: lack of transportation, deteriorating hospitals, and continuously rising university fees,” summarized a widely shared post on X (formerly Twitter), cited by both MENAFN and IBNS. The protests, initially peaceful, now carried the unmistakable energy of a broader political revolt.
In response, the UAJK administration moved to ban student unions and all political activities on campus, citing “law and order concerns.” Critics, however, saw this as a blatant attempt to suppress dissent and curtail free speech. According to IBNS, India condemned the crackdown, calling it a “blatant violation of fundamental freedoms” under Pakistan’s occupation, while senior officials in New Delhi pointed to the arrests, intimidation, and restrictions on political expression as evidence of civil liberties being trampled in PoK.
The movement soon gained powerful allies. The Jammu and Kashmir Joint Awami Action Committee (JKJAAC)—a coalition of civil groups that had spearheaded major protests in PoK just weeks earlier—threw its full support behind the student uprising. Those earlier demonstrations, fueled by outrage over electricity tariffs, taxes, and stalled development, ended in bloodshed when security forces opened fire, killing at least 12 civilians. The government was forced to concede to several of the committee’s demands, but the scars of that violence lingered.
Now, with both students and the JKJAAC aligned, Islamabad faces the prospect of a unified front of civil resistance. According to MENAFN, the Sharif administration and Pakistan’s intelligence agencies are deeply unsettled by the demographic makeup of the protests—young, digitally savvy, and politically assertive. The parallels with youth-led uprisings in Nepal and Bangladesh are hard to ignore. In Nepal, a protest against a social media ban morphed into a movement that toppled Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli. In Bangladesh, student and youth mobilizations in 2024 ended Sheikh Hasina’s decades-long rule. Both began with small grievances and ended with nationwide revolts against corruption and repression.
Analysts quoted by both MENAFN and IBNS warn that the signs in PoK are eerily similar—boiling youth anger, corruption fatigue, and widespread frustration with state control. There are fears that if Islamabad continues its heavy-handed tactics, including arbitrary arrests and human rights abuses, the movement could spill over into other restive regions like Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, where anti-government sentiment already simmers.
For now, the Sharif government has responded with police crackdowns and media censorship in an effort to contain the unrest. Yet, as history in the region has shown, such tactics often backfire, deepening the sense of alienation and fueling even greater resistance. Reports of arbitrary arrests and heavy-handed policing have only intensified the anger among students and young people, who see their struggle as part of a larger fight for dignity and democratic rights.
Observers note that the current protests have stripped away Pakistan’s long-standing narrative that the people of PoK are content under its rule. Instead, thousands have gathered in open defiance, openly denouncing both the government and the military establishment. The slogans ringing through Muzaffarabad’s streets are not just about fees or exam results—they are a cry for justice, accountability, and self-determination.
As Islamabad watches nervously, the world is left to wonder: Will this ‘Nepal Moment’ in PoK remain a local disturbance, or is it the harbinger of a much larger wave of youth-driven change across Pakistan’s troubled periphery? Only time will tell, but one thing is clear—the voice of Gen Z in PoK is growing louder, and it is not easily silenced.