In early September 2025, the streets of Kathmandu erupted with the energy and anger of Nepal’s youth. What began as a largely peaceful assembly—dubbed the “Gen-Z protests”—quickly spiraled into chaos and tragedy, leaving deep scars on the nation’s consciousness. According to Amnesty International’s December 9, 2025 briefing, the government’s response to these demonstrations was not only disproportionate, but deadly: at least 19 people were killed and more than 300 injured on the first day alone, with the total death toll from two days of protests and a further six days of unrest reaching 76, and injuries surpassing 2,000 nationwide.
Eyewitness accounts and a trove of photographic and video evidence, meticulously verified by Amnesty International, paint a grim picture of the events that unfolded. Security forces, tasked with maintaining order, resorted to methods that violated international human rights standards and Nepal’s own laws. They deployed water cannons at dangerously close range, launched tear gas grenades from elevated positions—including near hospital premises—and fired kinetic impact projectiles such as rubber bullets directly into dense crowds, sometimes striking children as young as 14. The escalation reached its nadir when live ammunition was fired into crowds of protesters, bystanders, and journalists.
“The violent and unlawful government response to young people exercising their right to peaceful assembly reflects a shocking and callous disregard for human life. All those responsible for ordering, enabling, or carrying out these abuses, regardless of rank or position, must be brought to justice through a fair and transparent process,” said Nirajan Thapaliya, Director of Amnesty International Nepal, in the organization’s briefing. He further insisted, “The young people killed and injured during the Gen-Z uprising deserve truth and justice.”
Medical personnel on the ground were overwhelmed by the severity of injuries they treated. One hospital doctor told Amnesty International, “In mass-casualty disasters, the usual pattern is that there are relatively fewer severe cases and more milder to moderate cases, with only some deaths. We plan for that. Typically, we might expect 10–20% to be severe. But this time it was reversed – there were far more severely injured patients, perhaps 50–60%.” Another described the emergency ward at its worst: “blood everywhere, patients collapsing, doctors and nurses working nonstop. It felt like a butcher’s house.”
The crackdown has drawn widespread condemnation not just for its brutality but for what it reveals about Nepal’s political system. As reported by Amnesty International and echoed in local commentary, the government’s actions violated the rights to freedom of peaceful assembly and expression, as enshrined in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR). The use of force was not only excessive but, in many cases, outright unlawful—particularly the use of live ammunition where there was no imminent threat to life or serious injury.
Yet, the violence on the streets is only the most visible symptom of a deeper malaise. As a victims’ rights activist and Chair of the National Network of Victims and Survivors of Serious Human Rights Abuses wrote in a December 10, 2025 commentary published by Republica, the Gen-Z revolt “has shown the public’s frustration and anger towards the political system, with its corrupt leadership and dysfunctional government structures.” Despite nearly two decades since the Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA) of 2006, which was supposed to usher in a new era of justice and inclusion, many Nepalis feel that little has changed. Transitional justice bodies such as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and the Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP) have, according to activists, excluded and marginalized the very victims they were meant to serve.
The commentary highlights that these commissions, appointed by previous governments and widely seen as politically driven, have lost credibility among victims and survivors. On November 21, 2025, the 19th anniversary of the CPA, representatives of victim groups staged a sit-in protest at the TRC and CIEDP offices, demanding the resignation of commissioners. Their message was clear: if the commissions do not step down, the situation could escalate further. “We should resist the old corrupt system, which has rejected victim-centred transitional justice,” said Mohan Baidya, a prominent voice in the movement.
The failures of Nepal’s transitional justice process are not new. Since the CPA, victims and survivors have been largely excluded from meaningful participation in justice processes, with discussions and decisions dominated by political elites and external actors focused on constitution-building and elections. This disconnect has left justice, truth, and sustainable peace as distant ideals, not lived realities. The old system, critics argue, remains intact—bureaucracy, security forces, and courts continue to be dominated by the same power structures that have long fostered impunity and corruption.
Amnesty International’s briefing doesn’t just document abuses; it calls for sweeping reforms. The organization urges the Nepalese government to review its approach to assemblies, ensure police facilitate peaceful protests rather than suppress them, and amend domestic laws governing the use of force to bring them in line with international standards. Without accountability and urgent reform, Amnesty warns, “the conditions that enabled these unlawful killings will persist, putting future assemblies and lives at risk.”
Victims’ groups and civil society activists are pushing for more than just reforms to policing. They argue for a complete overhaul of the transitional justice system itself, demanding a model that is genuinely victim-centered and capable of inspiring trust and hope. As the Republica commentary puts it, “The new government should work with victims and survivors of the previous armed conflict, as well as the new generation of Gen-Z conflict victims, to transform the justice process. The TJ commissions should be dismantled; otherwise, they risk facing serious backlash at the community level.”
This moment, activists believe, is pivotal. The seeds of change are germinating, with Gen-Z and older generations of conflict victims finding common cause in their demands for justice and accountability. Their collective activism, rooted in solidarity and an ethic of care, challenges the isolation that has long defined victimhood in Nepal. “Victims and survivors have transformed themselves into social leaders and agents of transformative change, redefining what it means to be a victim,” the activist wrote. This new identity, transcending politics, offers hope for community reconciliation and a more inclusive, participatory justice process.
As Nepal looks ahead, the stakes could not be higher. The Gen-Z protests, and the government’s response to them, have exposed not only the fragility of the country’s commitment to human rights but also the enduring power of its old guard. Whether the government will heed calls for reform—or risk another cycle of violence and revolt—remains to be seen. For the victims, survivors, and young people who took to the streets this September, the fight for justice is far from over.
