It was that day in January, when my heart felt the weight of everything around me that I first met Bhargavi Adhikari Mua, and something shifted about the way I had been feeling. As she walked into the premises of the Tapasthali old age home, her walking stick leading her, she became the presence-- the rest of us, audience.&nbsp; She made her way past the old women, greeting each one, making inquiries, and then ordered a set of plastic chairs to be spread across the lawn so the ladies could soak up some sun. Just before Mua arrived, I had been chatting with Chandraa Maya Ama from Solukhumbu, who told me Bhargavi Mua is shristi garne Ama, the one who creates.&nbsp; Mua founded Tapasthali in 1991.&nbsp; Chandraa Ama, she had left behind a bickering home where she was no longer wanted to move to the quiet of Tapasthali, Budanilkantha. In the summer, she walks with her friends to the nearby Rudreshwor temple every morning. Winter has brought along a changed regime: “We live slow lives. We eat, sit in the sun, sing bhajan, drink tea, sleep.”&nbsp; Tapasthali often receives visitors who bring along generous gifts to keep the kitchen warm. One Kapil Shrestha had come bearing a big bag of food for the elderly: “My son is 43 today and he lives abroad, so we wanted to bring some gifts to mark his birthday.”&nbsp; Mua thanked him and said: “The world is a mirror. You receive what you give.” Later, she turned to me and said I should visit her. …  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240204100240_becc14574ead170c99e58e578f41b1b07e82f64dddb85ea9f3c639d45e7218fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240204100240_becc14574ead170c99e58e578f41b1b07e82f64dddb85ea9f3c639d45e7218fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Home for single older women"> <figcaption>Tea and food prepared by Bhargavi Mua.</figcaption> </figure>  I step into Bhargavi Mua’s home, where she lives by herself, and she immediately sets before me a full plate for a vegetarian-- saag, cauli, aluachar and pancake. She’s been waiting, so we can eat together. At 84, she still cooks her own meals. “I’ve never done an interview before. I don’t want that kind of attention,” Mua says. One of the pictures on the wall behind her is that of her receiving the Gorkha Dakshin Bahu medal from former King Gyanendra, in 2008. I tell her I just want to hear her story. Then follows several hours of conversation, during which she takes me back to her childhood, her youth-- several geographical and emotional landmarks.&nbsp; Mua dropped out of school at 14 to enter matrimony and become a substitute mother to her husband’s kid brothers. And that role stuck, as she moved on to raising her late daughter’s sons and became custodian to many elderly women.&nbsp; The process of securing land to build an old age home was a hard one. The energy that is Mua, she relentlessly pursued government permission, and while a land deed for the home was promised by the erstwhile government, eventually, only partial support was available.&nbsp; Just above five ropainis were first allocated and Mua had planned a home for a hundred residents from across the country. But in the succeeding years, the local government split up the property to build a community meditation centre. Mua watched as 800 saplings she had planted were bulldozed. She has had to stand up to layers of government officials to protect the home. She has even received threats. Sometimes, she has been asked for a bribe. “Why would I offer someone a bribe for a home for old, homeless women? What kind of society does that make us? Shouldn’t it be the job of the government to support those who have nowhere to go, instead?” she asks.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240204100244_e94d8befaffaecd9e3ec41f356cd1bfcaa75e36215fee25342fbe89fbca67b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240204100244_e94d8befaffaecd9e3ec41f356cd1bfcaa75e36215fee25342fbe89fbca67b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Home for single older women"> </figure>  It was when Mua saw her childhood friend being insulted by a family member that she decided she needed to build a home for mothers who were discarded. But even before that, she had taken under her care two disabled, elderly women, who had been released from their jobs. She already knew she had picked a path.&nbsp; Simultaneously, she ran literacy classes at her home in Baluwatar for women, supporting 40 students. Her students in turn supported her first fundraiser, helping bottle pickles, which they sold to start collecting funds. “I visited individual families in my neighbourhood and said, give me one rupee in donation, but don’t send me away,” she recalls.&nbsp; This was followed by a fundraising activity in the US, where Mua was visiting her children. With the help of family and friends, she sold 150 bottles of nibuwa and khursani pickle, and managed to raise $1,500 &nbsp;which brought in the first real stash in the purse to build Tapasthali. Her enthusiasm was honoured by her (Late) husband with a 50,000 rupee top-up. And others added some more.&nbsp; Tapasthali, built block by block, can currently accommodate up to 25 residents. The amas are attended by a cook, a cleaner, a helper and a guard. Other residents are two cows, two dogs and an occasional cat. At one end of the property is the bhajan hall. The cowshed is tucked away behind the trees. Over the past thirty-three years, Tapasthali has laid to rest 28 of its residents. And while families hardly visit the waiting mothers, some bring their deceased bodies home for the funeral, so that legal requirements for property rights can be acquired. In the event that the families do not claim ownership, the committee overseeing the home ensures the last rites are performed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240204100248_600db53c50eaa3ccb139c47ff19939075a6e8ca6b2827eccb6caa7e1cb71fcd4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240204100248_600db53c50eaa3ccb139c47ff19939075a6e8ca6b2827eccb6caa7e1cb71fcd4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Home for single older women"> </figure>  Sushila Ama, an orphan, had spent all her life working as domestic help, until she started to age. When her employers were selling their cows to Tapasthali, they asked if she could also be taken in. In late 50s now, she is one of the residents, but is also paid a salary for caring for the cows. During my walks, sometimes, I see her by the clumps of trees, gathering fodder. She smiles, sometimes slaps my face and says, mero ghar aunu. Come visit my home.&nbsp; “Most mothers become unwanted when they no longer serve a purpose at home. And that’s why we need to do something. We must find joy in serving. That’s what my parents taught me,” Mua says. Only two residents are currently eligible for the senior citizen stipend. The rest, either they do not have citizenship or lack paperwork for their stipends to be transferred to Budanilkantha municipality.&nbsp; “We need some sort of financial aid to fall back on as we age, you know?” Mua says. “Women toil all our lives, only to be discarded when we age.” Then she asks me what I’m going to do with my single life. Stay single, I say. Or maybe I will go live at Tapasthali, someday. “Kathai!” she takes my hands in hers. “If you meet a like-minded man, you should marry. Otherwise, adopt a child. A girl. You’ll have a friend when you’re old. You don’t need a man’s money. You’re enough.”

Pratibha Tuladhar

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

Mother, who creates

As dusk fell over Kathmandu, the thunderstorm continued unabated. It had been raining continuously for 18 hours, and the forecast said it would keep raining at least till 8am on Sunday. The Bagmati roared through Chobhar Gorge in awesome rapids – the only drainage outlet for the entire Kathmandu Valley. By evening, 120mm of rain had fallen in 18 hours, more than the average for the whole of October.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_99ad9098124bec91da71ac42bbe889981fe64dda2dd3012b8bb289cf78ba4c54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251004161016_99ad9098124bec91da71ac42bbe889981fe64dda2dd3012b8bb289cf78ba4c54" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_59b97f3a3b2af91d3876b298963b3e68395c8b388aba6d9972c9bde1f668608d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251004161016_59b97f3a3b2af91d3876b298963b3e68395c8b388aba6d9972c9bde1f668608d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_1715f4d6ff1ee87302b697d3c95df36486bea71ed279852ef606c8f5dc68439b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251004161016_1715f4d6ff1ee87302b697d3c95df36486bea71ed279852ef606c8f5dc68439b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_ecd3dec69270afbd5a5c71dfa71780b6f8982984a95f3fbb83f23ee594451224.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251004161016_ecd3dec69270afbd5a5c71dfa71780b6f8982984a95f3fbb83f23ee594451224" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_53e47ae222c9f4397bcdad6d8021a711a5671fd45373fb3df2ed5c6413d58359.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251004161016_53e47ae222c9f4397bcdad6d8021a711a5671fd45373fb3df2ed5c6413d58359" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>  Settlements along the banks of Bagmati and Vishnumati in Kathmandu have been evacuated and affected families will be temporarily sheltered in schools across the capital.&nbsp; Bagmati Province has set up a Unified Command Team for disaster management while the Home Ministry has instructed CDO and security personnel to be on duty 24/7.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004171048_7e5d10f8e0042190e54e6db6cddbd51ed9d6d9dbc0cdb087d7af3207c9eaa2d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251004171048_7e5d10f8e0042190e54e6db6cddbd51ed9d6d9dbc0cdb087d7af3207c9eaa2d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="888" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Friday's satellite precipitation forecast for Sunday morning at 0600 showing heavy rainfall along the Chure Hills and Madhes Province south of Kathmandu. </figcaption> </figure>  The torrential rain has obstructed several highways as well as caused infrastructure damage, but no human casualties have been reported so far. Many had feared a repeat of the deadly flashfloods on 28 September 2024 in which 200 people were killed and half of Nepal's hydropower generation capacity siped out. The government has declared 5 and 6 October as a public holiday to prevent people from travelling during the Dasain festival, and to reduce risk. All highways in and out of Kathmandu closed till Monday. Flood-prone river corridor roads in Kathmandu have been closed after 6PM on Saturday. Meanwhile, all domestic flights were suspended from Kathmandu and other airports from 2PM Saturday, and most inbound international flights were diverted from 3PM onwards. Rerouted flights started arriving in kathmandu late Saturday as the core of the storm system moved east.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_bad029b05dbfda622986270a798edc6efcc2791ff34f53b9d1283554ac72c39a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251004151056_bad029b05dbfda622986270a798edc6efcc2791ff34f53b9d1283554ac72c39a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_9e740929c7ef0899b0f397195695b873bba45b089bb1e11cf37dbe125d0cd60d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251004151052_9e740929c7ef0899b0f397195695b873bba45b089bb1e11cf37dbe125d0cd60d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1363" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_2b75c2ea57df76dae1c470f0e460720b7d258868258789729e491ab93cb41ebd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251004151056_2b75c2ea57df76dae1c470f0e460720b7d258868258789729e491ab93cb41ebd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_6c045ac30e50710bcf3ca7b6ca4ac9c45e8d8881ed39f522779c860b0d3f15c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251004151056_6c045ac30e50710bcf3ca7b6ca4ac9c45e8d8881ed39f522779c860b0d3f15c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_9ef160b8403764495b86159661cc9a11d9d7d3b848686a631e5ec8cff0c4c38f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251004151052_9ef160b8403764495b86159661cc9a11d9d7d3b848686a631e5ec8cff0c4c38f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_e5825bcc6666e5235d9db2d4854a19cd6536335ebaf4cd65413acc601ceee3b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251004151052_e5825bcc6666e5235d9db2d4854a19cd6536335ebaf4cd65413acc601ceee3b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_097077400e96f571f4418cd7b57c082045d86dd9035c31c5acd7ede2bfc54349.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251004151056_097077400e96f571f4418cd7b57c082045d86dd9035c31c5acd7ede2bfc54349" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_30a4da8f384f6fe1a862e775124ae08ccf51c1db60e71e7e2d683e0f25f33546.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251004151056_30a4da8f384f6fe1a862e775124ae08ccf51c1db60e71e7e2d683e0f25f33546" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>  Madhes, Bagmati and Kosi provinces are the worst hit with Maheshpur in Rautahat district recording 270mm of rain as of 3PM on Saturday. Similarly, Gaur received 243.6mm, Kalaiya in Bara 200.6mm and Birganj 221.4mm. The Department of Meteorology did not blame climate change, but said the unusually heavy precipitation at a time when the monsoon is supposed to have ended was caused by the head-on collision between moisture-laden westerlies with the retreating monsoon.

More dark clouds over Nepal

Kathmandu: A Reader, the latest publication from Martin Chautari, is an anthology of anthropological essays exploring Kathmandu through various lenses across the 21st century. This compilation is edited by Benjamin Linder and attempts to bring modern discourses on Kathmandu and its urbanity together, in a single volume. The book is divided into three sections: the physical form of the city, the imprints it bears from past political upheavals, and the complexity in the lives of its people. The book examines these diverse aspects, leaving readers who have just witnessed the momentous events of September with anxiety, and perhaps a greater understanding of Kathmandu’s context. Urban planning expert Biresh Shah’s discourse on the Valley’s urban sprawl and its landmarks is insightful, but also prophetic when he warns about seismic risk.&nbsp; Jan Brunson’s chapter on female mobility in Kathmandu via scooters is more optimistic, suggesting small-scale, daily-life movements in Kathmandu transform the city for its various demographics — in this case young women.&nbsp; Linder himself contributes with a discourse on the toponymy of Thamel, close-reading Kathmandu’s tourist hub through the usage and understanding of its name over the ages. MYTHBUSTERS The book is a collage of pieces held together by a thread that runs through the chapters of a vibrant, bustling image of the Valley. One common theme is Linder’s attempt to expand on common understandings and urban myths about Kathmandu. Readers who have spent time in the city will relate to the many anecdotes. for example, Niels Gutschow bringing up the lack of open spaces, or Mark Liechty mentioning restaurants in Kathmandu being melting pots of cultures and castes.&nbsp; The essays here further extend these urban legends by giving historical and anthropological contexts. In-migration and the rise in land prices have led to shrinking open spaces, the creation of cosmopolitan food outlets, and even hubs for sex workers. The Bagmati cleanliness campaign extends to a past understanding of the Bagmati Civilisation. Urban myths become puzzles to be solved by connecting the various threads of discussion across the book. The sections in Kathmandu: A Reader are all by experts in their various fields and present a holistic, well-rounded picture. Yet, it is obvious there is still more ground to cover, more themes to explore — perhaps by more Nepali scholars.&nbsp; In his introduction, Linder admits that due to practical reasons, ‘many wonderful works were left on the cutting room floor’. That is a pity. Indeed, there could have been more discourse on the changing ethnic composition of Kathmandu. A close-read into the lives of people termed as ‘outsiders’ but forming a growing slice of the population would be important to also chart future trends. &nbsp; The religious importance of Kathmandu as a unique civilisational alloy forged by melding the Hindu and Buddhist faiths can be explored more too. One can imagine a future edition including an examination of the post-Covid era Kathmandu valley.&nbsp; This need to broaden the ethnographic literature on Kathmandu becomes more apparent because 11 out of the 15 essays here are written by non-Nepali scholars, including the entire section focusing on urban cultural politics. Linder explains in his introduction that this was largely due to the community of academics in Nepali urban studies being fairly small. Kathmandu: A Reader then becomes even more integral as a gateway for new authors looking to work in the space of urban research on the Valley — undergraduates in the humanities for future theses and research ideas.&nbsp; In a time when Kathmandu is littered with new exam coaching centres for medical and engineering students, an anthology like this helps remind young scholars that there is plenty of scope for qualitative research in the social sciences. Sabin Ninglekhu’s discourse on the sukumbasi and aesthetics in Kathmandu are reminders that stories and academic journeys can be inspired from one’s surroundings. Kathmandu: A Reader has a good balance between academic and lighter readings, and is almost encyclopaedic in nature. There is even content about Kathmandu’s gangsters and scooty girls — allowing readers to venture deeper into their milieu.&nbsp; Kshitiz Pratap Shah is a recent graduate in English from Ashoka University.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251002051016_c8ce28ecfd0dde4986023822b3d40360ead97d29b7f186f6494d8da67021c5a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251002051016_c8ce28ecfd0dde4986023822b3d40360ead97d29b7f186f6494d8da67021c5a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmanu a reader"> </figure>

A reader for Kathmandu

One is an archipelago, the other is landlocked. But the Philippines and Nepal have a lot in common: both are disaster-prone, their economies dependent on overseas migrant workers, both went though Maoist insurrections that failed to replace a feudal order dominated by political dynasties. And both countries suffer from rampant corruption. Twelve days after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-new-normal" target="_blank">deadly protests toppled Nepal’s government</a> tens of thousands of Filipinos, many of them youth, also poured out into the streets demanding transparency and better government. Cars were set on fire, and more than 200 people were arrested, nearly half of them minors. The ‘Trillion Peso March Against Corruption’ was fuelled by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/21/world/asia/manila-philippines-rally-protest.html" target="_blank">anger over embezzlement</a> by politicians and their <a href="https://pcij.org/2025/08/31/5-reveals-from-the-flood-control-data/" target="_blank">crony contractors</a> estimated to top $17 billion in flood control infrastructure that were either never completed, or non-existent.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411108_85daed60ed5599f53235312e5b33703244bbac8640dbaf5161f90e5abe83f7eb.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025100411108_85daed60ed5599f53235312e5b33703244bbac8640dbaf5161f90e5abe83f7eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="2326" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Phillipines anti-corruption protests"> </figure>  “We learnt from Nepal and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/30/world/anime-protests-flag-moldova-nepal-indonesia-gaza.html" target="_blank">Indonesia</a> how to deploy social media as a tool to spread information, we are digital natives and well connected within the country and across borders,” said <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/yuri-lemana-68322b183/?originalSubdomain=ph" target="_blank">Yuri Lemana</a> of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FOIYouthPH/" target="_blank">Youth Alliance for Freedom of Information</a>, and a part of the GenZ protests.&nbsp; “The system has failed us, unemployment is on the rise, there are shrinking opportunities for youth, and we face environmental threats. There is a realisation that our future is at stake,” Lemana added. Online groups started highlighting bribery and kickbacks in July after President Ferdinand (Bongbong) Marcos Jr himself brought up corruption in the infrastructure budget in his annual address to the nation, and launched a probe.&nbsp; The protests gained traction after powerful visuals of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/international-spotlight-on-nepal" target="_blank">rallies in Indonesia and Nepal</a> circulated on digital platforms. Filipino journalists also exposed the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-f0MFz3vmfE" target="_blank">high-flying lifestyle of contractors</a> involved in siphoning off the infrastructure budget.&nbsp; As in Nepal, the youth protests were joined in by various radical groups. In Manila they reportedly included supporters of ex-president Rodrigo Duterte who is currently on trial at the <a href="https://www.icc-cpi.int/philippines/duterte" target="_blank">International Criminal Court (ICC)</a> in the Hague for extrajudicial killings during his ‘war on drugs’ 2011-2019. Duterte still has a lot of support, especially in the Filipino diaspora, for being tough on crime. Duterte was allied with Marcos in the 2022 elections, and his daughter Sara Duterte is currently vice-president. But the two families had a massive falling out, and the Supreme Court annulled the Lower House’s attempt to impeach the vice-president. This week in Manila, a remarkably well-informed Grab driver replayed TikTok videos of Kathmandu’s burning Parliament building to a passenger from Nepal. After his garment factory was driven out of business by cheap Chinese imports, he started driving a ride-hailing cab and was livid with successive governments not providing opportunities to ordinary people like him. Traffic was gridlocked because of flooded streets, and the driver vented out his anger: “Look at this. The streets are always flooded because of corruption. We should have done here what you did in Nepal.” Even before the protests, Senate President Francis Escudero and House Speaker Martin Romualdez had both resigned over the 'Floodgate Scandal'. Romualdez is Marcos’ cousin and is now said to be in Madrid, where his every movement is being tracked by Filipino diaspora in social media posts. The Independent Commission for Infrastructure has issued subpoenas to probe corruption in flood control projects. As in Nepal and Indonesia, much of the anger was over the offspring of politicians extravagantly flaunting their ill-gotten wealth on Instagram and TikTok. In the Philippines, the outrage is also over political clans passing on electoral seats to offspring. The 21 September protests were centred around Rizal Park and the EDSA Intersection in Manila — both symbolic for previous people’s movements against the Spanish colonialists and the 1986 uprising against the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos (father of the present president). “People here had seen what happened in Nepal, and were asking why we weren’t as angry as people there? Why not show our anger, too?” said one reporter who covered the protests. But, he added: “Let’s not be naive. It may have started with youth anger, but there were also people who were paid to infiltrate and instigate. We were also wary that things should not get out of hand like in Nepal.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411104_2c02ece56d29b2d8222433572d75c2dcc9bc2f3425d277a0056f393b521eecd0.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025100411104_2c02ece56d29b2d8222433572d75c2dcc9bc2f3425d277a0056f393b521eecd0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1550" height="996" loading="lazy" alt="Phillipines youth protests"> <figcaption>An Instagram post of the protests in Manila with a comment relating it to the Nepal unrest two weeks earlier.</figcaption> </figure>  Seventy percent of Filipinos are Millennials and GenZ of voting age, and they were impatient with a rigged electoral system. In a clear parallel to what happened in Kathmandu two weeks earlier, radical groups, political rivals, and the general public furious with the system all joined in the protests. Catholic priests, people from all generations and professions had participated in the EDSA Uprising against Marcos in 1986. This time, it was the youth who took the lead. Joseph Francisco Ortega of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nationalyouthcommission/" target="_blank">Philippine National Youth Commission</a> said he understands the frustration among the youth that fuelled the unrest. The discontent is also because despite there being young legislators, they are either party-affiliated or scions of political dynasties. “If we can convince young politicians to do the right thing, then we have won half the battle,” Ortega said. “If we want to rebuild quickly and for the long term, we have to change the system from within. There is a constructive way to do this, while exercising the right to non-violent protest.” CROSS-POLLINATION The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w8monPKdrc" target="_blank">violence in Manila streets</a> on 21 September was nowhere near the scale of what happened in Kathmandu on 8-9 September, but both transcended GenZ to be an outlet for pan-generational rage much like 1986 in the Philippines.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004111012_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251004111012_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71" data-rendition-name="original" width="6566" height="4377" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal GenZ protests"> <figcaption>Angry crowd torched Parliament building among others during the 8-9 September GenZ protests in Nepal. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption> </figure>  “With due respect to the youth, it is not about age but about technology,” explained journalist Malou Mangahas of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/R2KRN/" target="_blank">Right To Know, Right Now Coalition</a> who participated in the 1986 uprising against Marcos. “We were all young and angry once. We are older, but still angry, and demanding good governance, transparency and accountability.” Just like in Nepal, young Filipinos rallying against corruption were also wary of infiltration, and it was clear from the anti-Marcos graffiti who the instigators of violence were. The GenZ were mainly wearing white while the pro-Duterte crowd <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w8monPKdrc" target="_blank">are seen in videos</a> in black.&nbsp; The minors seem to have just joined in the melee from their street-side settlements. Rights groups have called for their release, accusing police of rough interrogation and ‘red-tagging’ as Communist provocateurs. Much of the transboundary cross-pollination of anti-government protests across Asia last month used gaming characters, memes, and anime personas like the manga cartoon One Piece flag depicting a grinning skull in a straw hat which became an icon of youth protests.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411100_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f.png" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025100411100_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="1208" loading="lazy" alt="One Piece"> <figcaption>The One Piece Flag flying during protests in Manila on 21 September. Photo:  CYBERNETICBOYLOL / WIKIPEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Yuri Lemana adapted a saying of gaming character <a href="https://www.warhammer.com/en-WW/shop/mechanicum-archmagos-prime-2024?srsltid=AfmBOorpYg8Zk5G5WiPUS9SXTampX969gMw79sP7ZzkE1G6H5pICR4PW" target="_blank">Archmagos Cortiko</a> in <a href="https://start-warhammer.com/" target="_blank">Warhammer 40,000</a>: “Prayer has its power, but fury also has its uses. If the government tries to hide things from us, we will find a way. Fury will find a way.” Kunda Dixit is the Publisher of Nepali Times, and was a foreign correspondent based in Manila in the early 1990s.

older-women

Mother, who creates

More dark clouds over Nepal

A reader for Kathmandu

Nepal GenZs inspired Filipinos

Jazz as healing music