The KP Oli government has murdered 19 people

On today's protests and the tragedy that unfolded

This is a special newsletter necessitated by unprecedented events.

Monday, September 8, started out optimistic. A Gen Z protest against institutionalized corruption and nepotism, sparked by the recent social media ban, was planned for the morning all across Nepal, and spirits were high. Protests were planned in most major cities, including Kathmandu, Pokhara, Chitwan, and Butwal.

At Maitighar Mandala in Kathmandu, young Nepalis were out in force. Thousands of them, many in their school and college uniforms, had gathered to protest the dismal state of the country where the powerful and their children lived lavish lives of luxury while the rest languished in India, Malaysia, South Korea, and West Asia, toiling for remittance to send back to their families.

The protest was a festive affair. There was music and dancing. Volunteers were handing out bottles of water, cleaning up trash, and even providing headache medication and oral rehydration solutions. Schoolkids in uniform marched with placards, chanting slogans against corruption. Even the police were more restrained than usual. When the crowd forced its way past barricades near the Parliament building, police retreated, instead of baton-charging like they would’ve otherwise. A few tear gas shells and a water cannon were deployed, but nothing too major. Selfies were taken, slogans were chanted, and for a while, everything was as it should be.

Things went wrong very, very quickly.

While walking around, I overheard a handful of older men discussing plans to break into Parliament and cause some damage. Some young men, too, were riled up, screaming obscenities and driving fast and recklessly through the crowd on their motorbikes. As the crowd moved to surround Parliament, some protestors began smashing the walls. Others attempted to climb over the walls and gates. A fire was lit at the primary gate into Parliament. Orders came from on high — prevent damage to public property at all costs. The Armed Police Force, clad in body armor, helmets, and riot shields, began to pelt the crowd first with tear gas, then with rubber bullets.

What had started as a peaceful and creative protest suddenly turned violent. Police and protestors traded projectiles. The police fired indiscriminately into the crowd, hitting protestors, journalists, and even children. As things escalated, the Kathmandu Chief District Office issued a curfew throughout the area surrounding Parliament. The Nepal Army was deployed. Videos and images began to circulate of children bleeding from their heads (Warning: The video is graphic, but we must bear witness) while still clad in school uniforms, and men falling unconscious to the ground after being shot. There are allegations that the Armed Police Force deployed live ammunition against unarmed protestors and that they entered the premises of hospitals to fire more tear gas and beat up protestors.

One person died while undergoing treatment for rubber bullet wounds. Then another and another and another. As I write this, 19 people have died. Hundreds are injured. The hospitals are overwhelmed, and the blood supply is low. This is the single largest death toll in a day from any public protest in Nepal’s history. During the second Jana Andolan (People’s Movement) in 2006, which wrested the country back from the absolutist claws of the monarchy, 13 people were killed over 19 days of protest.

Today, the KP Sharma Oli regime killed at least 19 people, most of them youths, in a single day.

Nepal is in shock. There have been protests before in the Capital, but they have never resulted in fatalities of this order. Nearly two dozen people killed in just a few hours of protest. It boggles the mind. Social media, at least the ones that still function like Twitter and TikTok, is in an uproar, calling for the resignation of Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak, Kathmandu Chief District Officer Chhabi Rijal, and Armed Police Chief Raju Aryal. In any country with a functioning democratic system, this would’ve been called a massacre, and all responsible parties would’ve been stripped of their posts and tried in a court of law. But this is Nepal, and so far, neither the Prime Minister nor the Home Minister has uttered a word — no condolences for the deceased, no admitting of responsibility, no resignation.

For many young Nepalis, this was their first large-scale protest. They wanted to do things differently, show the older generations that young people aren’t slackers who don’t care about anything. This was the youth turning out to acknowledge that they have the biggest stake in Nepal’s future. For 19 young Nepalis, that future was taken from them by a policeman’s bullet, ordered by the Home Minister, sanctioned by the Prime Minister. This is generational trauma for young people. They will never forget that the very first protest they led was met with a hail of bullets.

The situation is still unfolding, so this Friday’s newsletter will feature a more detailed and contextual piece. Today’s newsletter is an appeal to all of our readers — we cannot let this stand. You reading this — whether you are a Nepali, a Non-Resident Nepali, an expat, a foreigner with an interest in Nepal — we need you to amplify what has happened here, especially if you are a diplomat, journalist, or work at one of the UN or aid agencies. The government does not listen to us, but it will listen to the international community, especially when faced with widespread criticism.

To kill unarmed protestors is not merely criminal; it is extrajudicial killing. Even in times of war, it is considered a war crime. Destruction of property does not and should not equate to a death sentence. Parliament was not in session; no one was in danger. Even if it was, it is the responsibility of the Home Ministry, the Nepal Police, and the Armed Police Force to enact security measures — cordons, barricades, corraling, non-violent suppression methods like tear gas and water cannons — not shoot unarmed Nepalis in their heads.

History will not remember the Oli regime for its misguided geopolitics or its penchant for promising roads and bridges that never materialize; it will remember this day when the government turned its guns on its own citizens, the young and optimistic, the future of Nepal. And it murdered them in cold blood. This is KP Sharma Oli’s legacy.

We must all bear witness: Today, the government of KP Sharma Oli murdered 19 Nepali citizens.