The <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/DQtSOT6ilFC/?img_index=1">post on Instagram </a>has an image of Sudan Gurung. Over the top is the message: ‘We wont let this year’s election happen if Gen Z’s demands are Ignored’. The account’s bio is ‘Uniting Nepalese Through Independent Investigative Research.’ Post like these have become a template for the information ecosystem in the aftermath of the GenZ revolt in September. Social media feeds are saturated with content that uses multimodality of captions, video, audio, to convey alarm and warnings about how GenZ aspirations are being subverted. Research by MIT showed that on X false news reaches 1,500 people six times faster than the truth. Fake news goes ‘farther, faster, deeper, and more broadly than the truth’, researchers concluded. Narratives compete on platforms, and users gravitate to the shock-value of the news and not to factual precision or nuance.&nbsp; “On social media misinformation easily mutates into disinformation,” says media literacy trainer Deepak Adhikari. “The news we see on social media are often out of context, with little information that misinforms more than inform.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251203121236_6daaeaf8ed255fda4a431d0419d9ae1a0908259af14529835034ce48653064a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251203121236_6daaeaf8ed255fda4a431d0419d9ae1a0908259af14529835034ce48653064a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Doomscrolling democracy NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251203121232_8a7a41b8bd1892137d1dd97fd1c1408d2879ff96fa69a4d6d5acff7239869d4b.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251203121232_8a7a41b8bd1892137d1dd97fd1c1408d2879ff96fa69a4d6d5acff7239869d4b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1601" height="340" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ instagram"> </figure>  Indeed, today’s ‘Post-Truth Society’ is characterised by a media environment where users give more credibility to their pre-existing beliefs and emotion rather than objective facts or subjective nuance. Post-Truth does not refer to what comes after the truth, but rather a cultural or information environment where pre-held personal beliefs shape public opinion, not facts.&nbsp; Rumour, bias and propaganda have always been a part of the informationsphere, but what makes it different today is the velocity at which falsehood spreads. The news cycle is short, and before content can be verified the damage is already done.&nbsp; Adhikari says that pre- and post-publication fact checking can be a potential antidote. However, when a video with misleading content goes viral, and even after fact-checkers catch up to correct it, the fear-mongering, anger or hate has already spread.&nbsp; In Nepal’s social media, apparently everyone is tarred as guilty, or funded by a foreign government. Calls to dismantle federalism, restore the monarchy, or teach political leaders a lesson by supporting authoritarian alternatives are no longer fringe ideas discussed in private. They circulate routinely in the algorithmic streams legitimised not by evidence but sentiment. When misinformation becomes the default, nostalgia for a mythical prosperous past begins to look like a rational response. While these positions are not new, their algorithmic amplification gives them perceived legitimacy that makes it hard to estimate, or far exceed, their actual political support. “We have not highlighted the achievements of our multiparty democratic system, and the new generation has not experienced authoritarianism,” Adhikari explains. “Therefore statements like federalism is expensive and the monarchy was better have taken up space, because the evidence of the counter narrative is underreported.” There is a positive side to social media. The GenZ movement took on momentum, and the protestors organised and supported each other through the very platforms that are now full of content that can potentially derail the democracy they wanted to strengthen. Just like it was trendy to be revolutionary during the protests, it is now trendy to be skeptical and to distrust the very people who were installed in the interim government through online voting. Such is the architecture of social media: it rewards immediate reaction over reflection, and due to its interface design, it not only shows what could be relevant ‘for you’ but also tells you what others are thinking about that. The role of the mainstream press as the traditional gatekeeper of information has been superseded by the digital sphere — both in access and sharing. This poses new challenges because social media content may not be news, and just because a page claims to be a news site that does not mean it is journalism. Social media feeds are not chronological newspapers but an algorithmic marketplace. TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube all rely on recommender systems, now powered by AI to keep users on their platforms for as long as possible. The feeds then collapse the distinction between credible news, speculation, parody, and deliberate disinformation, especially in a politically volatile environment.&nbsp; Everything appears in the same vertical stream, formatted with similar fonts, voiceovers, and music, making a platter of content that they know you are most likely to consume. For Nepali users, this has created personalised and parallel political realities. Two people living in the same household may open TikTok and encounter completely different idea of the problems and solutions of Nepal. One is fed content in favour of elections in March, while another pushes conspiracy theories about anti-GenZ activities aided and abetted by foreign powers. None of these feeds reflect the whole picture. Each reflects what the algorithm has learnt will capture user attention. Academics have long found that social media sites do thousands of A B testing to silently optimise which colors, captions, or video formats users respond to most intensely.&nbsp; Tests help design the most addictive feeds. Interface interference allows platforms to limit discoverability of certain features such as the ‘Logout’ and ‘Privacy’ settings so the system remembers users preference for the next time they are scrolling the platform. When faced with such infocalypse, we have the option to withdraw and not engage with our feeds or our phones. But billions of dollars have been spent by Big Tech to keep us hooked. We need more structural revisions that integrate the need of a safer online environment. Media and digital literacy must be woven into both formal education and public institutions. It cannot be an optional topic or a workshop for a select few.&nbsp; Students must learn how algorithms work, how misinformation spreads, and how to verify information before sharing it. Adults need community-level programs that help them navigate the online world that now shapes politics.&nbsp; Content creators also must be held accountable. Profiles posing as news sites must also be brought under the same scrutiny as the mainstream press. Directives for social media journalism, a section in the Press Council’s Journalism Code of Conduct can be introduced as provisions that foster transparency and ethical journalism practices on social media. Creators should pledge to verify facts, cite sources, and clearly label opinion or commentary. While this will not entirely curb disinformation, it can be the first step towards a digital public sphere that can host democratic dialogue with nuance and facts.&nbsp; Says Adhikari: “Journalism doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and our knowledge space, academia, think tanks, research centres, archives, are scaffolding to support journalism, and we must make them stronger. The role of journalism can be to humanise the news and journalists can be storytellers, but the responsibility of the information ecosystem does not rely on journalists alone.” Ayusha Chalise is a communication and development scholar specialising in how politics is experienced in the digital space.

Ayusha Chalise

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Doomscrolling democracy

Guilherme Canela is Chief of the Freedom of Expression and Safety of Journalists Section of UNESCO in Paris. He recently visited Nepal to discuss <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/internet-in-everything">freedom of expression in the digital media</a>. Nepali Times spoke to him about new challenges to free media. Excerpts: Nepali Times: Can you tell us about how the discussions with Nepal’s lawmakers went? Guilherme Canela: My visit, in partnership with the Inter-Parliamentary Union, was to have an open discussion with them about international standards on freedom of expression. It was very enriching to learn the key concerns of Members of Parliament regarding the current challenges Nepal faces regarding the existing legal framework regulating the media and digital ecosystem, vis a vis the immense changes in this environment related to the technological revolution we all are experiencing, and how these challenges can be addressed in alignment with the International Human Rights Law. There is a fine balance between freedom of expression and that same freedom being used to spread intolerance and hatred. What are the main conclusions of UNESCO’s own study on the governance of digital platforms?&nbsp; Digital platforms have become a new front in the pursuit of peace. They have had a transformative role in advancing human rights. They have democratised access to knowledge and culture, enabled new voices to be heard, and fostered global connections, but, as you say, at the same time they have become <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/press-for-people">ecosystems of misinformation, disinformation, ideological polarisation, and incitement to violence, discrimination, and hate</a>.&nbsp; Such features have undermined democratic values and threatened human rights across the world. Our job, therefore, is too foster the huge positive side of this equation and to counter the negative externalities it generates. Thus, whereas the digital companies don’t operate with transparency, accountability and due diligence, many countries have embarked on regulatory processes without keeping a human rights approach as a main principle thereby risking the shrink of the civic space and leading to different kinds of restriction not aligned with International Human Rights Law. UNESCO aims to ensure that everyone’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/no-freedom-after-expression">freedom of expression</a>, access to information and diverse cultural content are guaranteed, while various stakeholders, including governments, deal with the problems of dis- and misinformation and hate speech online. These problems will be better addressed, in a way that aligns with international human rights law, through implementing the UNESCO Guidelines in a comprehensive and coherent manner. In a nutshell, UNESCO’s proposal, which was debated worldwide for almost 2 years, and received 10,000 comments coming from actors from 134 countries, suggests a governance system that can improve the processes currently used by the tech companies, aiming to expand freedom of expression, while dealing with the negative externalities. But when can we deem the risks so high that governments can justify restricting freedom of expression through digital platforms under international standards? The rapidly evolving digital era has seen the rise of the imposition of restrictive measures on freedom of expression and the press such as infringement on right to privacy, censorship, and the prevention of general access to the dissemination of information, both online and offline, including internet shutdowns. However, the justification for governments to restrict such freedoms on digital platforms arises when there are identifiable and/or substantial risks to public safety, national security, or individual rights which cannot be sufficiently mitigated through other means. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-should-be-open-for-south-asia">Nepal should be open for South Asia</a> In order for any restriction to be legitimate it must fulfil the criteria set out in international standards on freedom of expression, such as the Articles 19 (3) and 20 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights or the Three-Part Test, which demands that any interference must be provided for by the law, pursue a legitimate aim, and be necessary and proportional to secure one of those aims.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240326090344_61e1f3e429a81b7cb025116ed038eadcd019e4a3dc0203af4e48abaa2c81fbe3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240326090344_61e1f3e429a81b7cb025116ed038eadcd019e4a3dc0203af4e48abaa2c81fbe3" data-rendition-name="original" width="853" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Guilherme Canela in Nepal "> <figcaption>Guilherme Canela(Photo: Sonia Awale)</figcaption> </figure>  In essence, any statutory restriction to freedom of expression must be subject to oversight and review mechanisms in order to uphold the principle of transparency, accountability and prevent abuse of power. While governments may be justified in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/gagging-the-press-in-installments">restricting freedom of expression</a> on digital platforms under certain circumstances, such restrictions must be carefully circumscribed to protect the fundamental rights of individuals and uphold the principles of democracy, pluralism, and open discourse in the digital age. Is there not a danger, then, that states can justify banning digital platforms using the excuse of maintaining “social harmony”? Measures applied by both companies and states should always be proportional to the harm that is intended to prevent. From companies, removal and blocking of content and account suspension should only be used as a last resort in the most serious cases. From the side of governments, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rattled-by-criticism-nepal-bans-tiktok">banning a digital platform</a> should be proportionate to the level of harm it causes and should be accompanied by transparent processes, due diligence, due process of law and consideration of alternative measures to mitigate risks while preserving the benefits of digital platforms for legitimate users. Additionally, regulatory actions should be based on evidence-based assessments and subject to judicial review to ensure they are fair, just, and consistent with principles of freedom of expression and the rule of law. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/talking-about-tiktok">Banning digital platforms</a> can be considered proportionate in certain circumstances where their activities pose significant harm that outweighs the benefits they provide. Here are two scenarios where banning digital platforms might be considered proportionate. Systemic violation of international human rights standards: If a digital platform systemically violates international human rights standards despite warnings and sanctions. And second, Exploitative Practices: when platforms engage in exploitative practices such as facilitating illegal activities (such as child pornography) or enabling human trafficking. However, it is important to outline that our Guidelines do not call on the government to establish a department or organisation to moderate content. The Guidelines consider that digital platforms should not be held liable when they act in good faith and with due diligence, carry out voluntary investigations, or take other measures aimed at detecting, identifying, and removing or disabling access to content that is prohibited under article 20 of the ICCPR or that has been restricted in terms of article 19(3) of the ICCPR. How can journalists protect their freedoms when democracy itself is threatened? Journalists can protect their freedom by first keeping on doing their job and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/censuring-censorship">hold all powers accountable</a>. But they cannot do it alone or in a vacuum, neither should they be left alone to deal with existential safety and viability challenges. As proclaimed by all UNESCO’s member states, journalism should be valued as a fundamental ‘public good’ with citizens putting their trust in it also through teaching and encouraging media and information literacy. It demands the State protect media viability, the rule of law institutions defending media freedom from all attacks, including by elected officials, and for politicians committing to respect the fundamentals of democracy, including the role of the press as a watchdog. There is an urgent need to further demonstrate to our societies the value of journalism (and all fundamental freedoms) not only to guarantee political and civil rights, but to guarantee all other rights. When someone is protesting to have better education or better health, ultimately what they want is to protect the rights of education and a healthy life, but they can’t do that if they don’t have freedom of expression in the first place and if watchdogs, like journalists, are being silenced. Your report also cites the critical need for digital platforms to protect electoral integrity. How can this be done?&nbsp; Firstly, in UNESCO Guidelines for the Governance of the Digital Platforms, we highlight the need for Digital platforms to recognise their role in supporting democratic institutions by preserving electoral integrity. Their acceptance of the role is not trivial as it implies an engagement regarding democracies. UNESCO also recommends establishing a comprehensive risk assessment process that focuses on the integrity of the electoral cycle leading up to and during major electoral events. These assessments should be conducted transparently and in consultation with all relevant stakeholders and should include a gender perspective to address the escalating online violence against women in electoral contexts. Proactive measures based on the identified risks are essential to prevent potential threats to the integrity of the electoral process. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/dont-act-on-the-act">Don't act on the act</a>, Editorial Secondly, UNESCO urges digital platforms to ensure that users have access to a diverse range of information and ideas, in line with international human rights law. Attention should be given to automated tools to prevent any hindrances in accessing election-related content and diverse viewpoints. Additionally, digital platforms should review their products, policies, and practices related to political advertising to avoid arbitrary limitations on candidates' or parties' ability to disseminate their messages during the electoral cycle. The promotion of independent fact-checking, advertisement archives, and public alerts is highlighted as crucial measures to uphold electoral integrity in content dissemination.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240326090344_d2b0d4b66fb1632336f876e84b0e72004620937c79e36d9f94828bd8478ab937.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240326090344_d2b0d4b66fb1632336f876e84b0e72004620937c79e36d9f94828bd8478ab937" data-rendition-name="original" width="730" height="1029" loading="lazy" alt="UNESCO guidelines for the governance of digital platforms"> </figure>  Finally, transparency is emphasised across various aspects, including the use and impact of automated tools, engagement with stakeholders and governance systems, and the identification of political advertisements. Digital platforms are responsible for disclosing funding details, applying equal content moderation rules, and tracking the monetisation of political posts. The retention of advertisements in a publicly accessible online library, along with information on funding and targeted demographics, contributes to an accountable and transparent digital environment during electoral cycles. If put in place by the platforms, these measures will collectively reinforce the commitment to preserving electoral integrity in the digital age. How can digital platforms be held more responsible when Big Tech is controlled from outside national jurisdictions whereas the impact of their content is domestic?&nbsp; The strategy for the implementation of the UNESCO Guidelines for the Governance of Digital Platforms aims to promote the enabling environment for freedom of expression and information and enhance the responsibility of digital platforms worldwide by Building a Network of Networks by fostering international collaboration and cooperation among regulatory authorities and civil society to develop common standards and regulations for digital platforms. This can help ensure that platforms adhere to responsible practices regardless of their location of ownership and may also reduce lawfare. Then there are Public-Private Partnerships to address regulatory challenges associated with digital platforms. Collaboration between governments, industry stakeholders, and civil society can facilitate the development of effective governance frameworks. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/media-melee-in-the-age-of-ai">Media mêlée in the age of AI</a>, Kunda Dixit Promoting transparency and accountability of the governance system (independent regulatory authorities) and of the digital platforms policies and practices. Human rights due diligence and content moderation and curation based on international human rights standards must be upheld. The governance system itself must have independent oversight mechanisms to monitor the activities of digital platforms within national jurisdictions. We must also empower users by providing them with tools and resources to understand and manage their online experiences through media and information literacy. This includes features for content control, privacy protection, and mechanisms for reporting harmful content or behaviour. Lastly, there must be ethical guidelines for digital platforms that prioritise transparency, fairness, and respect for human rights. These guidelines can serve as a foundation for responsible platform governance.

Balancing free expression with fake news on social media

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238b69c7e80680e0c739fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="640"/><figcaption>Photo: JORGE FRANGANILLO/WIKIMEDIA</figcaption></figure>In June, inside a crowded auditorium of the Oslo Met University in Norway, YouTube’s Brandon Feldman was fielding questions from fact-checkers from around the world.Feldman had just finished a "fireside chat" with Baybars Orsek, the director of the International Fact-checking Network (<a href="https://www.poynter.org/ifcn/">IFCN</a>), when he was bombarded with questions from the audience.To the applause of fellow fact-checkers, one speaker after another exposed YouTube's failure to stop the spread of false information on the platform.A participant from Pakistan's Soch Factcheck said he came across a flood of potentially fatal false claims on YouTube. Others exposed videos with hate speech that went unchecked. Feldman promised reform, but it was too little, too late to appease fact-checkers.I was in Oslo for the annual <a href="https://globalfact9.com/register">Global Fact 9</a> Summit, the <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2022/06/29/fact-checking-movement-grapples-with-world-awash-false-claims/">first in-person conference</a> in three years with nearly 500 participants from 69 nations.I clicked through our own South Asia Check and showed <a href="http://southasiacheck.org/fact-check/popular-youtube-interview-on-covid-19-full-of-false-misleading-claims/">articles</a> debunking conspiracy theories around Covid-19.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/election-infowar-goes-digital/">Election infowar goes digital</a>, Ramesh KumarIn one session, employees of TikTok, a short-video platform that is becoming increasingly popular in Nepal, spoke about how they were tackling information disorder on the platform. There was a session on automated fact-checking. At another panel, a Meta speaker noted that Facebook does not moderate political content.After a week of this, I was a little overwhelmed by the work that lay ahead back in Nepal which is having federal and provincial elections on 20 November. If the local election in May was any indication, this one too would be fought on social media platforms.Balen Shah and Sunita Dangol, who ran for mayor and deputy mayor of Kathmandu in May were the targets of rumours and false information. Disinformation actors aim to delegitimise candidates or attack rivals with propaganda. The objective is to influence, if not manipulate, public discourse.With easy access to the Internet, more Nepalis are getting news and entertainment through their mobiles. This will inevitably lead to a proliferation of falsehood because social media algorithms promote clicks that are designed to attract users, and keep them on the platform.Both Facebook and TikTok have features that help content go viral. During significant news events, such as elections, people unknowingly share false information (also called misinformation) with significant impact on the integrity of the electoral process.Fact-checking, supporting media literacy initiatives, and media monitoring during elections can all contribute to fostering trust in public institutions.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-social-media-contagion/">The social media contagion</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel One of the reasons we started <a href="https://nepalcheck.org/">NepalCheck.Org</a> as the elections approached was to combat misinformation. But it is difficult to distinguish fact from fake, truth from trolls, and most importantly, to expose public officials who are lying. The fact-check report must be supported by reliable, authoritative evidence.How do we do it? The same tools that help spread misinformation and disinformation can also be employed to identify and debunk false claims.We conduct keyword searches on Google to verify information. Finding problematic online content requires constant social media monitoring. Since the news is the main source of false information, fact-checkers must be up to date on current affairs.Online search skills are also crucial. But there is a catch: you have to keep refining your searches and building on what you find in order to identify the origin of a misleading photo or video.Since fact-checking started in the US in the early 2000s, a lot has changed. It picked up steam during the 2016 US presidential elections. Recent international events, such as the Covid-19 pandemic and the Russia-Ukraine war, have demonstrated how you can find the truth by utilising information that is publicly available.It has prompted the creation of novel tactics such as <a href="https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/peteraldhous/osint-ukraine-war-satellite-images-plane-tracking-social?utm_source=dynamic&amp;utm_campaign=bfsharetwitter">open-source intelligence</a>, which assesses data from readily available sources using more sophisticated technologies to combat misinformation.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/paradigm-shift-in-nepali-media/">Paradigm shift in Nepali media</a>, Shristi KarkiDespite the rise in popularity of fact-checking, the pervasiveness of viral disinformation makes it appear like an intractable challenge. A quote often attributed to American author Mark Twain succinctly captures the situation: “A lie can travel halfway around the world while truth is putting on its shoes.”In my two and a half years as a fact-checking editor, I have occasionally felt like I am up against powerful fake news factories. Only a small portion of online misinformation and disinformation can be fact-checked.New studies in ‘inoculation theory’, have given me hope for a better future. Researchers from the universities of Bristol and Cambridge in the UK <a href="https://www.niemanlab.org/2022/08/can-you-inoculate-people-against-misinformation-before-they-even-see-it-this-study-says-yes/">found</a> that users can more effectively battle misinformation and disinformation if they are aware of the techniques used to distribute it.A total of 30,000 participants watched video clips to become more familiar with manipulative strategies, including employing polarising and emotional language. The study advocated immunising people against the tactics of misinformation and disinformation, drawing on the psychological concept of ‘inoculation'.Exposure to less harmful disinformation can aid in the development of a person's defences against propaganda and misleading claims, much like a vaccine does.As we progressively recover from the Covid-19 pandemic thanks to the vaccine, let us hope that a new vaccination will be an effective tool against the ‘infodemic’.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/punished-for-fact-checking-in-nepal/">Punished for fact-checking in Nepal</a>, SalokyaDeepak Adhikari is the editor of NepalCheck.Org, a new bilingual fact-checking platform in Nepal. He was the editor of South Asia Check from March 2020 to July 2022.

Inoculation against misinformation

Shantanu Dhakal wakes up to a cold misty dawn, dons his college uniform and fastens his tie, tightening it carefully so as not to dislodge the tracheostomy tube protruding from his throat.
Gingerly, he brushes his teeth, mindful not to hurt the wound on his left cheek, where a bullet tore through during the GenZ protests on 8 September in the highway town of Itahari in eastern Nepal.&nbsp;
Dhakal, 18, came home from college that day three months ago and then took the bus to Itahari to join some friends who were protesting in front of the sub-metropolitan city office. It was mid-afternoon, and the crowd was chanting anti-corruption slogans and holding up placards.
Like most young Nepalis, Dhakal and his friends had been angered by videos on social media of the offspring of Nepal’s rich and powerful flaunting their lavish lifestyles.&nbsp;
"That was the trigger for me to join the protest, it opened my eyes to just how widespread nepotism and corruption was," Dhakal told Nepali Times.&nbsp;
The police arrested a few students, angering the crowd even more. They massed at the gate of a nearby police station to demand their friends be released. &nbsp;
Dhakal was standing across the street from the police station when the first shots rang out. The crowd scattered. As he ran for cover, there was a searing pain in his left jaw. Blood was streaming and it took some time for him to realise he had been shot.&nbsp;
“I was bleeding profusely and couldn’t speak. My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears,” Dhakal recalls. “I collected myself and continued to run, fearing that I would be shot a second time.”
Dhakal collapsed some distance away, and a fellow protestor took him to a nearby hospital, where doctors bandaged his jaw. He was referred to Birat Medical Teaching Hospital, where surgeons immediately performed an emergency operation. &nbsp;
The bullet had torn through his left jaw, shattering the bone, teeth, and soft tissue. Blood had rushed into his throat, obstructing the airway so doctors first performed a tracheostomy, installing a tube in his throat to help him keep breathing. A week later, the doctors reconstructed his jaw with metallic plates, grafting skin from his chest and transplanting it to the lower left side of his face.&nbsp;
Dhakal spent three weeks in hospital before being discharged. But the relief of being home was marred by disturbing thoughts. He says, “Just sitting there doing nothing began to take a toll on my mental health.” &nbsp;
Since he was always interested in content creation and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@docsbyshantanu">producing short documentaries</a>, he decided to document online his near-death experience and post-protest life.&nbsp;
Shantanu Dhakal’s Instagram and TikTok <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shantanu__dhakal/">posts are simple, short videos</a> every other day about his treatment process, dressing his wound and cleaning his tracheostomy tube, attending events with others injured during the protests, and scenes from everyday life in his family farm.&nbsp;
The comment section has Nepalis and people from around the world reaching out to ask how he is doing and keeping his spirits up. Dhakal now has a caring social media community, and he uses the platforms to keep in touch with other injured protestors across the country.&nbsp;
Life is returning to a new normal. This week, he returned to college to resume classes after more than two months and is making up for lost time. He has adjusted to speaking and eating with the tube, although the pain never quite goes away.&nbsp;
“I can eat mostly fine, but it is still difficult to speak,” he says. Soon, he will go to hospital for his fortnightly follow-up, and doctors will determine when his tracheostomy tube can be removed.
Like other young Nepalis, Dhakal is now even more politically engaged and actively reads the news of the interim government installed after the GenZ protests.&nbsp;
With the 5 March elections only three months away, young Nepalis like Dhakal hope that the elections will throw out the old and bring in the new. He is among the more than 800,000 new voters who have registered.&nbsp;
“The most important thing is that we have stable government,” he says. “As far as candidates go, an ideal one for me would be a person who prioritises health and education. But if the candidates in my constituency are not up to mark, I may not vote.”
Dhakal along with other injured protesters and relatives of those killed met &nbsp;Energy Minister Kulman Ghising, who has launched his own Ujyalo Nepal Party, and he is cautiously optimistic about the work of the current leadership. &nbsp;
It is a different story in Kathmandu, where Prime Minister Sushila Karki is struggling to manage the expectations of various youth collectives while trying to convince the old parties to participate in elections.&nbsp;
While the UML and NC are actively trying to delegitimise Karki’s government as they prepare to hold their respective general conventions, they are also preparing to give out tickets for elections.&nbsp;
Self-proclaimed GenZ leaders who used Discord to elect Karki prime minister are putting up their own conditions for the polls, even demanding her resignation for failing to meet their demands. This is in sharp contrast to the feelings of many of those injured during the protests who want elections so the nation can heal, and move on.

A new normal

This is the 75th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father was a country boy from Sarlahi, and my mother a city girl from Kathmandu. They had an inter-ethnic marriage, which was difficult until the two families gradually began to accept it. My parents, who worked in development, viewed the world through a social lens. They often traveled overseas for their INGO work, leaving me and my sister behind. We spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house, or in rented apartments with guardians. Between Grades 1 and 10, I must have switched schools seven times. Our parents prioritised our education, and enrolled me in the most expensive schools. I was shocked by my school fees, and often wondered how they managed with their salaries.&nbsp; I wanted to become a businessman, so I could have the kind of life some of my well-to-do friend had. My family was not from a business background, and social services didn’t lend themselves to that kind of lifestyle. Now I realise what my parents gave me was already over the top, a truth that becomes clearer as I get older. Our family was getting along fine until our father died while working on a project in Dhading in September 2021. The official reason was ‘heart attack’. We do not talk about this much, perhaps as a way of dealing with the loss.&nbsp; He was our rock, and everything got harder. At least we had good people around us who reminded us to take care of our mother and to work hard. And we did. My sister and I made TikToks during the lockdown, initially in a joint account which reached its peak in 2022-2023. I had always wanted to be an actor, but I knew the film industry does not pay well. My parents also urged me to keep my interest in acting as a passion project. TikTok enabled us to showcase our talent for comedy. We figured out how to crack TikTok’s algorithm and stayed on top of trends. People liked our duo and the raw and authentic content. It required a strategy, luck, planning, and understanding the game.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121236_1afc10a8107e0aef5b94977860bc2cb138ddd1a100cadc7324da675b7ca0810c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251204121236_1afc10a8107e0aef5b94977860bc2cb138ddd1a100cadc7324da675b7ca0810c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1778" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  We use a hashtag #NakarmiKhanalAF in all our content drawing from my parents’ last names although they did not need to know what ‘AF’ stood for.&nbsp; My first viral content involving a humorous take on a Marvel character hit over 500k. That fusion combining international trends with Nepali humor worked really well, and I started making it my niche, adapting content.&nbsp; My father was always thick-skinned and did not have to try to be cool or tough. He was unapologetically himself, sometimes to the point where my sister and I felt embarrassed. When he was invited as a chief guest at a cricket game, for example, I remember feeling proud to be the child of an ‘important person’, but he grabbed the mic and told everyone to start cleaning the ground.&nbsp; Many of our friends came from wealthy families because of the schools we attended, and he proudly lectured them about our humble background and the importance of social service. Growing up, we tried hard to get his validity. My proudest moment was gifting him a shirt bought with my first salary. My father did not get to see our rise on social media, but I know he is watching over us just as he always did. The first brand deal I got was memorable but awkward. It was for a grooming package for private parts. I used to think about how movie actors start their journeys with advertisements for underwear, and this was going to be my story, my ‘humble beginning’ as a content creator.&nbsp; They did not even pay me money but just gave me the items. Other brands started coming in and with them, money. I earned as much as Rs40,000 per content and tried to make one every day. This was a big contrast to my monthly salary of Rs35,000 in a clothing store. All along, I was acutely aware that fame would not last forever. Just like one of my singer friends Wangden had said in a podcast: he was going to have fun while fame lasted.&nbsp; After TikTok was banned in India, there was even more uncertainty about social media. The alternates were also not assuring: people running businesses had to close up or were stuck, and the political uncertainty was scary. This pushed me to think about migrating, and Australia was a safe backup. I uploaded content right upto two hours before my flight from Kathmandu. I wanted to have enough savings so I did not have to start working right away in Australia. I was buying freedom. Since I had to change schools frequently, Rodin was one of few enduring friends I had. He was in Australia and assured me that he would take care of everything, and he did. He was my family there, and I did not have to go through the initial struggle that other international students had to endure.&nbsp; In Australia, I have done multiple jobs over the last two years and completed my MBA. My interviewer challenged me to make him laugh with one of my content videos. He did and I started work the very next day though I know I got the job because a hardworking friend had recommended me. To the boss, I was just another Nepali who could work swiftly. I mopped floors, washed dishes, and served customers. This was Australia, and I hustled. But I knew there had to be more to life. The long hours and little sleep eventually caught up with me. One day I slept 14–15 hours straight, and when I woke up, it hit me that I should try networking.&nbsp; I reached out to admins of Australia-based Facebook groups. Some replied, some did not, some offered jobs that were not for me. Then came an email from 8848 Momo House, and I travelled to Brisbane to meet the owner Hom Pyashi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121232_ef61cf49eaa208293eecc7e2c5c075644ca6dd4bb844881249889586ae91025e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251204121232_ef61cf49eaa208293eecc7e2c5c075644ca6dd4bb844881249889586ae91025e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1548" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  “Do you want momos?” was the first thing he asked warmly. He told me to stop by one of his new outlets and make a video. I did, and I was hired the next day.&nbsp; It was that easy, and I have been working there ever since. My boss would later share in a conversation that he did not hire me because of the video but because I was young and he saw hunger in my eyes. To him, I was clay that he could help shape. I am now the marketing head, and the chain is doing well. Content creation is still a side job that brings in money. But just as my parents said, it remains a side passion.&nbsp; Then came the GenZ protests. On social media I compared Nepal’s youth to relaxed backbenchers who finally act when provoked enough to get things done. I could relate to the rage and suffocation. A song I was featured in was supposed to be released just when social media was banned in Nepal, and that fuelled my anger. But from the onset, I was wary of the headless nature of this movement, there was no ठुलो मान्छे leading and no one would be accountable if something went wrong. There was so much uncertainty, and I am not comfortable with uncertainty. We were glued to social media as the protests happened, at work and in the gym. When we learnt of the deaths of young Nepalis back home, a part of me died. The grief of unexpectedly losing my father came back.&nbsp; I left the gym early because I just could not take it. My friend and I just drove quietly to a nearby waterside. We did not even sit together because neither of us wanted to notice that we were in tears.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121236_99d662d9b4239e22410217146f87d7bed694d6543fa62d3b145401a5cf1cc7aa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251204121236_99d662d9b4239e22410217146f87d7bed694d6543fa62d3b145401a5cf1cc7aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  One of the messages I received was a GoFundMe link to support the victims. I shared it, but someone asked if it was genuine. That is when it hit me that I had a large social media following and could not just share things without verifying them. I removed the link. The only person I felt I could trust was myself, so I decided to start my own fundraiser. I felt emotional and helpless, and had to do something.&nbsp; I assumed we could raise around AUD5,000. I was wrong. Within hours, we had raised nearly AUD60,000. Fellow content creators Avash and Manzil from Minority Report had also started a GoFundMe, and we decided to join forces.&nbsp; Partnering with them was going to be a lifesaver because I was not at all prepared for what was ahead. Over 11,000 people contributed across our two campaigns, raising AUD514,386. But we had not thought through the logistical challenge, the online hate and the delays. We needed to release the money to the right organisations in Nepal, get complete information about the families of the martyrs and injured — our primary target groups.&nbsp; We faced a huge amount of backlash after a hate narrative instigated by a few people spread online. We just could not get our message across that it was not as simple as raising the money and handing it over. People believed what they wanted to believe. Internet hate can take you to very dark places, even when you believe in your cause and know it can bring some comfort to grieving families. You try to focus on the positive message, because many people did support us, but the hate and accusations do bring you down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121232_3045b4b91371fa210362f49a8d9ff279e1bb1cbee9fb8cc0641dbcbd6594aa98.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251204121232_3045b4b91371fa210362f49a8d9ff279e1bb1cbee9fb8cc0641dbcbd6594aa98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="2868" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  When I was paralysed by the internet hate to carry out even the most mundane activities like cooking and cleaning, my roommate Bibek took over. He even made me watch an episode from the Mahabharat capturing Krishna’s teachings on karma without worrying about the fruits, a lesson that did not just help me get out of that depressive episode but has become a guiding principle for life. How would I have emerged out of that darkness when I was battling with suicidal thoughts if people had not showed up for me? We worked day and night to find the right partners, and because of the large amount of money and the level of transparency we asked for, many influencers or organisations turned us down.&nbsp; This was not easy because we had our own jobs to take care of, our own bills to worry about that were not linked to the fundraiser. It helped that my team at 8848 let me deal with this during work hours, and assured me that they will stand by me no matter what. Thankfully, we finally partnered with Nepal Rising (Daayitwa US), a professional and transparent organisation that stepped in and saved the day. GoFundme finally released the funds to their account and it has begun reaching the right people. My sister helped ensure the money is delivered properly. As a final check, I speak with the families in Nepal and offer my condolences. I honour their loved one’s contribution to our country and we will make sure it is never forgotten. But no matter what we say or how much we try to help, the heartbreaking truth is that their young son or sibling is not coming back. The narrative is slowly changing. Slaps are now claps. But the trauma of the public hate is so great that it still gnaws at me, I have anxiety about attending Nepali gatherings like concerts here. I remember when a dance I had created for Bola Maya went viral on TikTok, with tens of thousands of people picking it up. A chef friend told me it was time to use that influence for a social cause. Those words stayed with me. As I navigated the backlash, I was also reminded of my parents who worked on social causes and asked my mother if they had faced similar cases. She had, and she reminded me that all we can do is stay focused on the cause and drown out the noise. Things will eventually work out.

Things eventually work out

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

misinformation

Doomscrolling democracy

Balancing free expression with fake news on social media

Inoculation against misinformation

A new normal

Things eventually work out

Doomscrolling democracy

My father’s son