Every year, Chandra Prasad Adhikari suffered losses on his farm. For years, his tomato crop did not earn enough to sustain itself.&nbsp; In 1988, he even brought in agronomists to test the soil, and planted new varieties. The batch sprouted upwards within a month only to be wiped out by cotton bollworms when it was time for harvest. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/my-children-shouldnt-be-farmers">"My children shouldn't be farmers,"</a> Anita Bhetwal Frustrated, Adhikari used the chemical pesticide democrene to kill the bugs under the recommendation of an entomologist. That too failed, as the bugs were immune to the pesticide. “I was tired to the point where I wanted to give up agriculture,” recalls Adhikari. Then the entomologist, Phanindra Neupane, a professor at Rampur Campus, suggested switching to organic farming. Adhikari’s father Badrinath had also previously practiced organic farming and his 2.5-hectare farm had produced maximum yield. “My father never used chemical fertilisers. When the extension workers came to the village to promote urea, he sent them away saying our cattle manure was enough to give good crops,” recalls Adhikari who then took to organic approach, especially after finding out that chemicals had hardened the soil and reduced fertility.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023040312044_569a0c7f3604705a82c5520bf598a9117da7d7a7d1ec41a43c2638c4005a2cd8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023040312044_569a0c7f3604705a82c5520bf598a9117da7d7a7d1ec41a43c2638c4005a2cd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="423" loading="lazy" alt="organic farming in Nepal"> <figcaption>Chandra Adhikari showing vermicompost production. All photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adhikari improved the cowshed, collected dung and used it in the farm. The results were not instantaneous. It took time for the organic methods to reverse the damage caused by years of agro-chemical abuse. He also joined the group Digo Krishi Society and Bhakaro Reform Program. By 1993, Adhikari’s investment had paid off. His carrot plantation was especially successful for which he credits Bhakaro Reform Program that taught him various techniques of making organic fertilisers. In the subsequent years, his farm produced more crops than his neighbours' that used chemical fertilisers.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/biodynamic-agripreneurs">Biodynamic agripreneurs</a>, Sanjib Chaudhary Soon, he had people coming to him to learn about organic farming, including students from Rampur Campus. At a training program on organic agriculture in Kathmandu, Adhikari met Neupane once again. He gave him books on managing pests and manure via organic methods. It was after reading those books that Adhikari realised the real meaning of organic farming – one that is done without harming the environment and through the use of local resources and skills. “I started preparing fertilisers at home. The best ones were made by farming earthworms,” says Adhikari. “My method of farming organically was also recognised by the government following a soil test from the Nepal Institute of Science and Technology.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023040312044_5a390b9cb2cf6ea2ca8bcd94b86bc787a29aedc2624fa490ae735e24bf90b6b9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023040312044_5a390b9cb2cf6ea2ca8bcd94b86bc787a29aedc2624fa490ae735e24bf90b6b9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="organic farming in Nepal"> <figcaption>Chandra Adhikari harvesting honey.</figcaption> </figure>  Next, Adhikari stopped planting the crops in favour of sunflower oil seeds which is financially more beneficial, but by then he was running his farm just on insects and home-made pesticides. “My income has doubled since going organic and making my own pesticides.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/waste-to-value-with-biogas-in-nepal">Waste to value with biogas in Nepal</a> Adhikari also established an organic agriculture cooperative in 2013 which now serves as a learning centre for 230 farmers. For someone who was once on the verge of leaving farming, he is now known as ‘Organic Uncle’ for influencing many towards soil conservation. And for the past 13 years, Adhikari has also been involved in collecting rice seeds for future use. So far, he has collected 110 varieties which he has submitted to the National Gene Bank in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023040312040_3abd0d0ab8560cd632b833b43ab8442a4d3d38ef4d196c5d165f37b5e5dd697e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023040312040_3abd0d0ab8560cd632b833b43ab8442a4d3d38ef4d196c5d165f37b5e5dd697e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="organic farming in Nepal"> </figure>  “Rice varieties have been disappearing for generations,” says Adhikari. “Just as powerful nations have taken hold of fertilisers and various seeds, Nepal should be self-sufficient when it comes to rice seeds.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/corruption-and-nepal-s-chronic-fertiliser-crisis">Corruption and Nepal's chronic fertiliser crisis</a> After 35 years of organic farming, Adhikari sayslike how healthy mothers give birth to healthy babies, we need chemical-free soil for a good yield, which in turn is crucial for healthy living.&nbsp; Says Adhikari: “Organic farming needs patience, especially to revert all the damages previously done to the soil by chemicals. After that, there is nothing but prosperity for the farmers, there is no loss, and they are also healthier not having to handle all those toxins.”&nbsp;

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The ‘Organic Uncle’ of Chitwan

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe10729c7e80680e0da499jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Biodynamic compost made from cattle dung but adds the horns of dead livestock to enrich nutrients in the fertiliser. Photos: SUDARSHAN CHAUDHARY</figcaption></figure>Across Nepal, the organic matter content of the soil is falling due to erratic weather, poor farming practices and overuse of agro-chemicals. Ideally, a farm should have 5% organic content in the soil, but in most places it has fallen to less than 2%.Spiral Farm House near the small town of Mahuli in Saptari district in the eastern Tarai is out to reverse this trend, and has become a learning centre to revive soil fertility and improve yields.“I started this farm ten years ago for sustainable farming and conservation of soil and microorganisms,” explains Sudarshan Chaudhary of Spiral Farm House (pictured, right). “We make eight different types of biodynamic composts which not only help revive the soil but also give us wholesome food that helps maintain good health.”Chaudhary says that intensive cropping, continuous application of chemical fertilisers and pesticides, mechanised farming, among others have led to soil degradation in Nepal.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-spray-and-pray-approach-to-agriculture/">Nepal’s ‘spray and pray’ approach to agriculture</a>, Jayant Basnyat<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe10769c7e80680e0da49ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="1500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But the composts at Spiral Farm House have been doing wonders for the farm, and Chaudhary says the nutrients in the soil are replenished organically with the compost, providing better harvests and yield.Chaudhary not only makes manure and compost from cow dung, cattle horn, bone, silica, straw, twigs, dried leaves, and plants, but also makes liquid fertiliser and biopesticide from medicinal plants and locally available materials.Biodynamic farming is a fancy name for going back to the basics of traditional farming. It emphasises the use of locally available raw material, particularly compost made from animal dung, herbs, and other raw materials, with the goal of achieving soil self-sustainability. The necessity to add extra sources of nutrients, such as cow dung, bones and straw is due to soil fertility in Nepal’s farms being sub-optimal.Due to its reliance on organic inputs for soil fertility, biodynamic farming needs a holistic approach that incorporates crop rotation, crop-livestock integration, and seasonal farming cycles.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/building-an-information-bridge-for-nepals-farmers/">Building an information bridge for Nepal’s farmers</a>, Naresh Newar<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/save-farms-empower-farmers-nepal-citizens-appeal/">Save farms, empower farmers, Nepal citizens’ appeal</a><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe107b9c7e80680e0da49bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In Chaudhary’s farm, cow horn manure, used for improving soil biodiversity, is made by burying fresh manure of pasture-fed cows in hollows of horns for six months. Horn silica, which is useful for plants to grow, is made from the sand buried in the horns of cattle. The other six varieties are medicinal plants used to improve the microbial population, which is necessary for soil fertility.Biodynamic farming increases crop productivity and nutritional quality while also improving soil carbon sequestration by making these soil-enriching sources available. Microbes play a major role in carbon storage in the soil.Encouraged by successful yields produced using biodynamic techniques, Chaudhary has also turned to mentoring and motivating the next generation of farmers in Saptari and surrounding districts.“I teach youth why biodynamic farming is important and why we should adopt it for sustainability,” says Chaudhary, who learned the basics of biodynamic farming during a training in 2012. Since then, he has trained more than 200 other farmers from Sunsari, Morang, Saptari, Siraha and Chitwan districts.Suman Kumari Mirdaha, a 24-year-old business management student, has been helping her parents grow rice, lentils, and vegetables after attending Chaudary’s training session on biodynamic farming and believes organic farming is the answer to the growing concerns, given the climate crisis.Sukhi Lal Chaudhary and Lalit Chaudhary, both in their 50s from Saptari district, have also learned biodynamic farming from the Spiral Farm. Sukhi Lal has been growing biodynamic vegetables which he said fetch a better price than vegetables grown using chemical fertilisers. Lalit’s farm soil quality has improved due to biodynamic techniques.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world/">Rooftop agriculture on the roof of the world</a>, Sonam Lama<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe107f9c7e80680e0da49cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Despite this, the need to produce more to earn more is luring most farmers in Agnisair Krishna Sawaran Rural Municipality to increase the dose of chemical fertilisers every year, despite knowing that it is adversely affecting the soil. A 2019 survey showed that 39 of 40 farmers interviewed in the Rural Municipality used chemical fertilisers to boost production.But Sukhi Lal Chaudhary says there is no need for chemicals and he has been getting regular yields as much as what farmers using chemical fertilisers and pesticides are getting. And he is not the only one. Mahendra Kumar Shrestha from Holy Green Agro Farm says that to create a healthy eco-friendly community, he engages local farmers to switch to organic and biodynamic agriculture, as well as explore ways of achieving a sustainable and humane economy.Krishna Gurung's Kevin Rohan Memorial Eco Foundation, established in 2008 in Khokana in Kathmandu Valley, has also been  promoting biodynamic farming methods.Currently, some 5,500 farmers are practicing biodynamic farming and more than 5,000 farms covering over 400,000 acres have been certified in 60 countries across the globe.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/agroecology-nepals-answer-to-climate-change/">Agroecology, Nepal’s answer to climate change</a>, Zachary Barton<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe10849c7e80680e0da49djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>According to a Cambridge University Press study, biodynamic farms ‘have better soil quality but lower crop yields and equal or higher net returns per hectare than conventional farming’. The study added that more research is needed to confirm the benefits of soil preparation and how it works.Biodynamic farming focuses on producing necessary manures, compost, and nutrients on its own as much as possible. However, considerably small farms need to source fodder and additional food resources for animals from outside.Biodynamic farming principles, developed by Austrian architect and social reformer Rudolf Steiner, incorporate elements of regenerative farming. But for Chaudhary, it is like returning to the farming practices of his forebears before the advent of chemical fertilisers and pesticides.Biodynamic farming also includes crop rotation and intercropping which have been practiced by farmers for generations in Nepal’s southern plains. They generally sow flaxseed and lentils in the paddy fields before the paddy starts to ripen. When it is time to harvest paddy, they already have a standing crop of flaxseed and lentils in their fields. After harvesting the flaxseed and lentils, they would prepare the land for wheat cultivation.“But climate change is resulting in unpredictable rainfall, heavy hailstorm, and random drought period occurring on a frequent basis which is affecting the overall farming and livestock rearing system,” says soil expert Sambat Ranabhat. “Biodynamic farming is a holistic approach through the integration of the different farming sectors. When climate change affects one of the components, then it will affect overall farming.”In 2022, Sudarshan Chaudhary sold his biodynamic mangoes at Rs100/kg. However, before converting into biodynamic, his mangoes fetched just Rs30-40/kg. For his biodynamic vegetables, he charges Rs5 more than the regular produce being sold in the market.“People here do not care much for organic and biodynamic products,” lamented Chaudhary. “We are planning to supply our produce to major cities, including Kathmandu where the consumers pay a premium for chemical-free produce.”The need of the moment is to expand the biodynamic practice in the country and provide the products at reasonable prices, and Nepal’s pioneering ‘agripreneurs’ like Chaudhary, Shrestha and Gurung are at the frontlines of this transformation.Reporting for this story was supported by Solutions Journalism Network through the 2022 LEDE Fellowship. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/back-to-the-future-of-farming/">Back to the future of farming</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-affects-himalayan-rice/">Climate change hits Himalayan rice</a>, Erica Wu

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Biodynamic agripreneurs

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21c19c7e80680e041756jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Ratna Rani Newar does not know how much longer she can keep her vegetable farm in Thimi. Photos: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption></figure>Ratna Rani Newar grew up helping her grandparents grow vegetables in the fertile farms <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8688#.XC8OkdIza70">around Thimi</a>. Today, she is afraid her livelihood passed down through generations will be taken away.Kathmandu Valley civilisation was built on the agriculture that thrived in the alluvium of the former lakebed. But as the city expanded, the farms were steadily taken over by houses. Now, the last remaining tracts of what were once Thimi’s famous vegetable farms are also being filled over with concrete.“I have been growing vegetables in Thimi ever since I learnt to walk, but these days people don’t care about farming, they just want property to build houses,” said Newar, who is a single mother of four daughters. Her husband left her because she didn’t have a son.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21c49c7e80680e041757jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="999" height="1500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Newar’s daughters, like most of the educated younger generation of Kathmandu’s agricultural families, do not want to work in farm. But they do visit their mother every Saturday, and help sell her cauliflowers and spinach in the local market.<a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/back-to-the-land">This type of farming</a> is one of the last of its kind in Kathmandu Valley: traditional, organic and hand-grown with no help from machinery. In a couple of years farmers carrying fresh vegetables in woven baskets down the streets of Bhaktapur, calling out to customers will be a rare sight.Agronomist Bhola Man Singh Basnet who used to be a scientist at the Nepal Agricultural Research Council says Kathmandu’s farmers had developed a very successful cycle using <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/organic-basnet-gundu-kheti-bazaar,2520">crop rotation</a> to replenish the nutrients in the  soil, and keep the land fertile.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21c79c7e80680e041758jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="999"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“People from all over the world noticed our techniques and productivity,” he says, “but farming is becoming obsolete.”Nepali farmers used a special technique to grow vegetables in tiny parcels of land to sustain their families. It fertilised the soil with organic black soil and cow manure, giving the Valley’s vegetables an amazing taste full on nutrients.But, Basnet says, “Land for farming is decreasing as the population increases, so new techniques are needed to meet food needs. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/heavy-pesticide-use-and-low-consumer-awareness-affecting-public-health,1394">Chemical fertilisers</a> and green houses are being used, but the quality of these vegetables is not the same ... quality is not even considered important.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21cc9c7e80680e041759jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="999"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Basnet says the trend of building on prime agricultural land that started in Kathmandu is now spreading to other urban areas of Nepal, and younger educated people from farming families would rather work in salaried jobs.Babu Krishna is another Thimi farmer, whose children live in Australia. He says: “Farming has been in my family for generations, I have farmed all my life, but now the fields are replaced by houses. I think my generation is the last in my family that will farm.”<h2>The smart people of Piple</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21cf9c7e80680e04175ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125">A Chitwan village has banned new construction in agricultural land Mukesh Pokhrel in ChitwanTwo years ago Mong Tamang sold 1.5 hectares of his farm. When the new owner built a road along the land to turn it into a new housing colony, local farmers were up in arms, and prevented it.Dhab Thapaliya sold half a hectare of his land to Kathmandu-based businessmen three years ago. But villagers again prevented houses being constructed, and Thapaliya had to return the advance he was paid.Today, 2,000 out of 3,500 households in Piple raise cattle and grow vegetables, and much of the credit goes to Nabaraj Onta, who returned from Korea after 25 years and put into practice what he learnt there working in a farm. He brought back seeds, and distributed it free among his fellow-villagers.“He has a vital role in encouraging us to take up farming and protect our land,” says Rameshwar Oli of the dairy cooperative in Piple which has a farmers’ savings and loans scheme providing low interest loans to farmers to buy seeds and buffaloes. All loans are paid in time, and the cooperative also has a livestock insurance scheme.Farmers in Piple village of Chitwan say their farms are much more valuable to grow vegetables and and raise livestock than to be converted into real estate, and have united to preserve cultivable land from being bought by developers for housing and factories.Unlike anywhere else in Nepal, they have enforced zoning criteria to classify farmlands and residential areas, and have prohibited buildings anywhere other than in areas along the road."Legally we can't interfere in decisions about private property, but there is an understanding among us to not sell cultivable land," explains Danda Raj Pandey one of the farmers who started the movement.It has been ten years since Piple people have turned to vegetable farming and animal husbandry, and turned their village into a model agricultural settlement.Pandey himself used to buy oranges wholesale in Dhading and Gorkha and sell it at the Kalimati market in Kathmandu. Today he sells vegetables and 15 litres of milk every day from his own village, and does not have to travel away from home for livelihood. He now makes Rs600,000 a year, and with his savings has expanded his farm so he can grow more.Moti Rijal was a daily wage worker until he started farming a small plot of his ancestral property. The farmer made more than Rs100,000 by selling just cabbages, and decided to expand into commercial farming. He has now leased more land from neighbours to grow other vegetable cash crops.Rama Dalakoti also grew beans in her small plot, and her farming is so intensive that in the last season she made Rs400,000 just from selling it in the market. Piple has now overtaken Gitanagar as the dairy capital of Chitwan, and local farmers sold Rs12 million worth of milk and supplied Rs10 million in vegetables to Kathmandu last year.

The vanishing land

In 2003, the death by police firing of a student protesting a rise in fuel prices pushed Nepal’s student activists to join the प्रतिगमन विरोधी आन्दोलन (Movement Against Regression), which political parties had begun after king Gyanendra’s sacking an elected government a year before. The students’ participation elevated the movement and prompted more Nepalis to join in, leading to the People’s Movement that first sidelined the monarchy and then abolished it in 2008.&nbsp; That took five years to happen. But 12 years later, this month, a youth-led protest forced the prime minister to resign within 30 hours.&nbsp; Police massacred GenZ activists, many of them students, outside Parliament on 8 September. This intensified public anger, leading to targeted attacks, looting, and burning of the homes of political leaders, private businesses, and public buildings.&nbsp; Amid the smouldering ruins of state institutions, young Nepalis chose a new prime minister to lead an interim government and deliver a fresh mandate. All of this happened in five days.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="8000" height="5760" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> <figcaption>Parliament building up in flames during the GenZ protest on 9 September. Photo: KAMAL PRASAI</figcaption> </figure>  Students have been central to Nepal’s democratic and political process since the mid 20th century. In her 2018 book Making New Nepal, researcher Amanda Thérèse Snellinger traces the history of student activism and politics against a background of &nbsp;Nepal’s socio-political history and party politics.&nbsp; Snellinger examines the interplay of ideology and identity, explores how student activists fit into a political landscape continually occupied by the traditional elite, and details how student leaders have established themselves through relationships with influential actors on local, national, regional, and transnational levels. The Rana regime’s repression caused students to be politically aware. In 1947, students held the first organised protest against the Rana autocracy demanding educational reforms. The breadth of student activism expanded during the Panchayat era after king Mahendra banned political parties, which drove mainstream politicians and parties underground. &nbsp;Student activists then became proxies for multiparty democracy because they were still able to organise.&nbsp; Student politics was institutionalised, and unions emerged as vanguard sister organisations of political parties. Student activism, more so than mainstream political parties, played key roles during &nbsp;both major movements in 1990 and the 2000s, as they mobilised the citizenry to join the democratic process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1952" height="2928" loading="lazy" alt="1990 people's movement Nepal"> <figcaption>The iconic image of the 1990 People's Movement agaist the autocratic Panchyat regime of the king. Photo: MIN RATNA BAJRACHARYA</figcaption> </figure>  Through extensive ethnographic research between 2003 and 2015, Snellinger investigates the political coming of age of student activists during the final years of the armed insurgency and their role in and beyond the movement that ultimately abolished the monarchy. Her research revolves around the political journeys of five student activists: Akash and Rishi from the Nepali Congress (NC) student wing Nepal Student Union (NSU), Salini from the UML’s All Nepal National Free Students’ Union (ANNFSU-Akhil), Gyanu from ANNISU-Revolutionary of the Maoists, and Lagan, who began his political journey from Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party’s student wing Nepal Krantikari Bidyarthi Sangathan. The ‘movement against regression’ in 2003 served as the entry point &nbsp;for activists into national party politics. Indeed, it was their &nbsp;participation in the movement that elevated the profile of the main subjects of Snellinger’s research. In the years that followed, the paths of the five activists diverged. Some made it into mainstream politics, even becoming lawmakers. In doing so, they have had to trade idealism for pragmatism, and their attempts realise their previous vision for Nepal’s democracy have been overshadowed by their political opportunism and position. And even decades after they began their journey as student activists, the generation that the book focuses on are still considered &nbsp;‘youth’ leaders. Snellinger quotes a former student leader who joined mainstream politics as saying: “I am still a youth because &nbsp;my aspirations remain unfulfilled.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="2006 People's Movement of Nepal"> <figcaption>A student protester wearing a paper crown and ridiculing Gyanendra with an impersonation, a day after king stepped down and left his palace. Photo: AJAY JOSHI / A PEOPLE WAR</figcaption> </figure>  Meanwhile, the refusal of Nepal’s octogenarian leaders to retire (even after The upheaval this month) has created a surplus of younger adults waiting in the wings, making the word ‘youth’ relative in Nepal’s political trajectory. Other subjects of Snellinger's research have retreated from student and mainstream activism, either in disappointment over their mother party’s retreat from some of their more radical positions, or to &nbsp;continue their work at the community level through education and journalism. One of them has leveraged her political connections to further women-led initiatives after unsuccessful election bids. Nearing the end of her research in 2015, Snellinger observes the disappointment of Madhesi communities whose movement to demand more inclusive provisions of the draft Constitution had gone in vain, even after 45 lives were lost.&nbsp; As the Constitution was promulgated in 2015, TVs were switched off in the Tarai, and there were sighs of resignation. In Kathmandu, Snelllinger noted that the student leaders that entered mainstream politics protesting for inclusive democracy had little empathy for the struggles and similar demands of groups in the Madhes. Despite the students’ role in ending the monarchy, Nepal’s political status quo has remained. The institutions and people that replaced the &nbsp;monarchy have allowed one set of Kathmandu elites to be replaced with another.&nbsp; The socio-political benefits promised during the movement two &nbsp;decades ago have remained tightly controlled by leaders who refuse to give up their hold on power. The political system was overhauled, but without concrete reform. It was only a matter of time before public frustration would boil over. Indeed, Snellinger concludes her book by predicting the inevitability of future movements in Nepal.&nbsp; She writes: ‘Leaders emerge through the andolan … a new generation will emerge shaped by Nepal’s accumulated socio-political heritage, which they will mediate to shape a liveable present and future for themselves in their country, perhaps by continuing the movement.’&nbsp; And that is exactly what happened on 8-9 September. Students marched in the streets demanding an end to corruption and impunity, but this time not as proxies of political parties.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Gen Z protest"> <figcaption>A student during the GenZ protest against acorruption on 8 September. Photo: SUDIKSHA TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  Their desire for socio-political reform was apolitical at a time in Nepal’s history when the nation’s student organisations have weakened and lost credibility, mirroring the erosion of trust in their parent parties. Along with party-based student unions, the Free Student Union (FSU)— the umbrella body all student unions—has lost its reputation due to corruption and embezzlement. That is not to say there are no similarities in movements past and present. Whether political or apolitical, protests have been overshadowed by a lack of unity within the groups that spearhead movements. They have led to destruction of public and private institutions.&nbsp; Leaders of youth and student movements have also had to bear the brunt of the frustration of the people they represent when there is no delivery on their demands. The academics of students have suffered because of frequent lockouts of university and college administration. Youth andolan, whether political or apolitical, has been a rite of passage into Nepali democratic politics — dissensus is an integral part of political regeneration. It remains to be see how the fall &nbsp;from grace of political parties after the GenZ movement will affect their affiliated student unions. As elections approach, student unions and youth collectives will find their own footing in Nepal’s &nbsp;newly emerging socio-political landscape. The youth who took to the streets are asking for a complete overhaul for political parties. Establishmentarian leaders still have not seen the writing on the wall.&nbsp; NextGen leaders in their parties have been waiting for years for their turn &nbsp;to break through the glass ceiling. These established political actors will not go down without a fight in the run-up to March elections.&nbsp; Amanda Thérèse Snellinger perhaps needs a post-script or even a sequel to her book to see how a new generation of leaders, forged by their student activism, will compete in Nepal's new political arena.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Making new Nepal book details NT"> </figure>

Nepal’s historic youth dissensus

What does a journalist do when young protesters are shot in front of her? Does she do her job and stay neutral? Can you stay neutral?&nbsp; As protests engulfed Kathmandu, Nepal's journalists found themselves reporting a story that was personal. While doing their job, some of them were even targeted by mobs.&nbsp; Dart Asia Pacific Fellow <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/arunkarki/" target="_blank">Arun Karki</a> visited their newsrooms and spoke with his colleagues on their experience of reporting the GenZ protests that erupted on 8 September. These are the first-hand accounts of journalists who witnessed the turmoil in the city they call home. Sunita Karki was at a workshop in a hotel on 8 September. She saw the first waves of protests through hotel windows. Curfew alerts flooded her phone, a vehicle belonging to a human rights group sat burning across the road, young boys were taking their wounded friends on motorbikes to the Everest Hospital, and police were beating a teenager with hands raised up.&nbsp; “I cried a lot,” she said, but the tears were not out of fear -- they were because she felt guilt. “I couldn’t write the news. We were witnessing these scenes from a five-star hotel.” By evening, the death toll had reached 19. On 9 September at about 3:35 p.m. &nbsp;her outlet, the Annapurna Post's office in Tinkune, Kathmandu, was set on fire. Staff had to leave the building as parts of the newsroom burnt down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dart Centre Asia Pacific"> </figure>  When she knew her office was burning, she anxiously told her husband that she would resign from the job: "If we have to hide our identification cards in every protest, what kind of journalist am I?" she asked herself. She filed a story the next day, but her emotions kept bouncing between that of a journalist’s duty and shock. She said that in moments like this, it’s hard to feel truly neutral. After watching the police beat people, she felt a strong urge to step in, not just stand back and report. The first real calm came later, when people came to the street and lit small candles together. “This was a sort of victory procession. I felt some relief after brutal days,” she said. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/angaddhakal/" target="_blank">Angad Dhakal</a> a photojournalist who works at Kantipur National Daily, was standing outside his office building when protesters stormed in and set parts of it on fire. He had already been informed that protesters were planning to torch his office building and &nbsp;rushed to his office hoping to save his hard drives containing ten years of photography work. He failed. He raised his camera and "forcefully" pressed the shutter - more to document the scene than out of "professional enthusiasm or duty".&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  “My office was burning. What should I photograph?” he recalled. A few moments later, a protester noticed the “PHOTO” label on his yellow Press jacket. Dhakal deflected it by saying he was an early career freelancer and YouTuber. So that protesters wouldn't find out, he went to one corner and took his jacket off. When it comes to covering street protests, &nbsp;Angad usually stands near the police because it feels safer. But on 8 September, fire and gunshots made even that area unsafe. A rubber bullet hit his friend Dipendra Dhungana that badly injured him.&nbsp; He thought, “Where do we go now? If we stay here, we’ll be hit.” After witnessing two days of protests, violence, and killings, and seeing his own office burning, he couldn't sleep for days. The same afternoon that government buildings burned and Kantipur was attacked, a message in a protest Discord forum talked openly of 'attacking Kantipur'.&nbsp; Rumours spread to other outlets. Outside OnlineKhabar's office, where <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/article/edit/7376157229248528384/?author=urn%3Ali%3Afsd_company%3A79132377#" target="_blank">Gaurav Pokharel</a> works, the newsroom manager saw “very suspicious people were walking around”. They lowered blinds, avoided windows, locked the front gate and dispersed staff to other places across the city. The outlet was threatened and effectively locked down, but not torched. Pokharel hid his press ID. “ I never showed the ID card. Sometimes I had to enter the crowd shouting slogans, just to blend in among the protesters,” he said. He watched people fall under gunfire, he helped pull one surrounded journalist out of a hostile crowd.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  As a freelancer, Gaurav also contributed articles for international outlets. Later, while transcribing an interview of a young protest organiser, he wrote to his editor at an international outlet : “This was very hard to write. I cried many times while doing it.” He had been working at a stretch for days battling bouts of exhaustion and low blood pressure.&nbsp; Protesters vandalised and set fire within the Singha Darbar complex housing Nepal Television and Radio Nepal. They tried to disrupt public broadcasting.&nbsp; Surendra Paudyal began the day with his press ID hanging on his neck, thinking it would let him move freely. But when he reached Singha Darbar around 3:30PM, the situation felt dangerous.&nbsp; He put the ID in his pocket. When asked what mattered most, he answered without pause: life comes first. In that moment, he felt real fear and a strong duty to protect his team.&nbsp; His focus narrowed to basic things: stay calm, find exits, get everyone out safely. Later, they were able to keep the 8 pm news on air through a regional link. He felt mixed emotions and a sense of relief that the broadcast continued, but also sadness and anger that their own studio had come under attack. Reprinted with permission from the Dart Centre Asia Pacific, a regional hub that provides trauma-informed support and advice to journalists.

"It is hard to feel neutral"

Harry Jackson was on an epic adventure ‘from Thailand to the UK on 2 wheels’ when he ran into the ultimate sidequest. Having just visited Zangla in Ladakh, Jackson had only landed in Kathmandu when he found himself in the middle of GenZ protests earlier this month. ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w">Arriving in Nepal - Chaos, Protest &amp; Curfews</a>’ is the title of his first video (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/@wehatethecold/videos">wehatethecold on YouTube</a>) about the protest. He shoots police as they shoot at protesters outside Parliament. Jackson is riding a Honda CT125, a retro lightweight motorbike with off-road capabilities. Strapped to the bike is his sparse luggage, flute, and a faded Union Jack. People are rioting on the streets and there is a heavy armed police presence as he makes his way to his hostel in Thamel. His vlog the day after on 9 September has 29 million views. In ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyxSqeFrlp0">The side of Nepal the media won’t show you</a>’, Jackson rides his bike straight at the crowd just past the Parliament building into Old Baneswar.&nbsp; He parks it and walks among the protestors, documenting it all: from the police firing capsules of tear gas into the crowd to the burning Parliament building as well as the jubilant, victorious crowd in the premises as they destroy police vehicles and dance. “I’m shocked at the scenes I’ve witnessed here today. I have truly witnessed history on a stupid trip from Thailand to England on a f***ing moped!” exclaims Jackson as he leaves the scene for the day, heading back to his hostel to edit the footage. The hostel is in direct contrast to the raucous scenes of the protest, as tourists and Nepalis sit and lounge at tables. ‘KUIRE VLOGGER’ Nepalis quickly called him the ‘kuire vlogger’, and attribute his skin colour to his popularity. Objectively, the videos are well made. Jackson goes full gonzo journalist, putting himself right in the heart of the action, talking directly to the people, all while narrating the events as they unfold. Despite being cut together in an entertaining way, the footage retains a raw, unpolished quality that outdoes what most professional journalists with a heavy duty camera crew could do. At a time when legacy media has been seen to be pushing biased narratives, Jackson wants to see for himself what happened, and make up his own mind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="1604" loading="lazy" alt="WehateTheCold"> </figure>  This kind of video journalism takes a lot of skill and a certain personality. Many people, almost everybody, had their phones out at the protests, but only a handful were like Jackson. He interviewed people firsthand, edited the clips and uploaded them the same day. Jackson continued his vlogging over the next few days as the curfew was first put in place and then lifted. He explores the city as the Valley rebounds. By this time, Nepalis recognise him everywhere he goes. Jackson had achieved moderate fame as a 23-year old DJ in Birmingham, but what he has done in Nepal is something else. Almost everyone he talks to has already seen his vlog, and they are all eager to interact. He has been on multiple podcasts in Nepal too, and most videos online on the protests reference his vlogs. Before his Nepal blogs, Jackson had a modest 16k subcribers on YouTube, but after Nepal figure is now almost 700k, gaining over 100k each through 11-13 September. Most of them are Nepali viewers. “I’m just a regular dude who just did what he wanted to do,” says Jackson on a podcast. “I wanted to go on an adventure, learn about history, and learn languages. And I wanted to film it, document it, and have a wicked film for my life to show future generations.” &nbsp;

The accidental journalist

Nepal is still reeling from the short but violent GenZ moment, and the reverberations are being felt around the world.&nbsp;
As news from the killings and rampage from Nepal on 8-9 September spread through the wire services and social media, in the Philippines, East Timor and even faraway Peru, banners on the streets last week referred to ‘learning lessons from Nepal’. In Ladakh last week, <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/9/25/bloodiest-day-how-gen-z-protest-wave-hit-indias-ladakh-killing-four">protesters set fire to the ruling BJP party office</a> and four people were killed in police firing.&nbsp;
Nepal’s GenZ was praised by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/19/opinion/asia-protest-youth-nepal-bangladesh.html">international commentators</a> for rising up against chronic corruption and impunity, and for achieving the fastest regime change in history. But the youth were also blamed for the arson and vandalism even though the groups said they had no part in it — most &nbsp;foreign media also did not highlight enough the infiltration by radical groups.
“We were not expecting the protests to turn so violent and deadly. On the second day, things escalated so quickly it became difficult to keep track. We were rushing on the groud and making calls to confirm what was happening,” recalls Paavan Mathema of Agence France-Presse (AFP) in Nepal.
The GenZ protest this month was a lesson on the mechanics of social media. Hashtags like #youthagainstcorruption and #nepobaby from Indonesia inspired Nepal’s youth to take to the streets, but events here in turn triggered protests elsewhere. The international news agencies and mainstream global tv channels were not as important in this information cross-pollination.
The movement was organised online and spread quickly in no time, but it was disinformation and fake news that spread faster than facts. The over-simplification by international media was because it had to explain 30 years of political evolution in a country that they mostly ignored in the past, this sometimes tended to be misleading.&nbsp;
While the Oli government’s social media ban of 26 platforms starting 5 September poured oil on the fire that had already been lit by a disparate group of desperate youth, their outrage over decades of corruption and impunity was reaching a breaking point. There was extreme disenchantment with serial politicians recycling themselves in power.&nbsp;
“The ban on social media definitely triggered the protest, but we put a high priority on accuracy and speed during reporting in such times,” explains the Nepal correspondent for Associated Press (AP) news agency in Nepal Binaj Gurubacharya. “Our own safety also becomes a prime concern in times like these, but should not be at an expense of accuracy.”
CRISIS REPORTING
But headlines everywhere including in The New York Times, The Guardian and others that used wire service content initially highlighted the social media ban as the main reason for the protest. They were soon called out by protesters, while <a href="https://institute.aljazeera.net/en/ajr/article/3358" target="_blank">Al Jazeera</a> and its <a href="https://institute.aljazeera.net/en" target="_blank">Media Institute </a>were applauded for more nuanced coverage.
Another positive example of international media supplementing the stories by local journalists was <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/" target="_blank">France 24’</a>s detailed <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/asia-pacific/20250915-nepal-police-protests-violence-kathmandu" target="_blank">forensic analysis</a> of the security forces firing live ammunition at protesters at Parliament on 8 September.&nbsp;
What really went far and wide around the world were dramatic YouTube videos about the violence, and memes on social media. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-accidental-journalist" target="_blank">A British tourist</a> who filmed street protests did the work of an on-the-ground journalist and got millions of views globally for some of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w" target="_blank">his YouTube videos</a>.&nbsp;
But some of the misinformation or fake news on social media was also picked up by the mainstream press, like the <a href="https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/world/south-asia/nepal-violence-ex-pm-khanals-wife-dies-after-house-torched-president-urges-calm-dialogue/articleshow/123791004.cms">wrongly reported death of former Prime Minister Jhalanath Khanal’s wife</a> in an arson attack on their home. A video of the Finance Minister Bishnu Poudel being <a href="https://www.ndtv.com/world-news/video-nepal-finance-minister-chased-through-street-kicked-attacked-9243749">chased and beaten</a> by protesters also turned out to be someone else.&nbsp;
Some international outlets, mainly in India, also fell prey to a fake video that K P Oli had fled to Dubai. Even this newspaper’s online edition had to correct it after wrongly reporting it without verification.&nbsp;
Indian tv channels which did &nbsp;extensive coverage of events in Nepal, with many Nepalis relying on them and believing their content — especially during the protests when Nepal’s main channels went off air as they were being attacked.
All this got out of hand, and protesters in the week after the violence started ridiculing and harassing Indian tv correspondents as they tried to interview talking heads outside the charred Parliament building, or on the streets.
<a href="https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/09/09/foreign-hand-gen-z-data-addiction-5-ways-indian-media-missed-the-nepal-story">Indian media</a> were also the first to accuse US involvement in sparking a ‘colour revolution’ in Nepal. They later claimed that former Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) chief and now Energy Minister Kulman Ghising and even Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah have been appointed interim prime minister in Nepal. These were rumours in Nepal, but were reported as news.&nbsp;
“Fact checking is crucial while covering such movements, and since we are telling an important story about Nepal to the world, double checking becomes important as it sets the international narrative,” says Mathema. “We were constantly double checking with concerned authorities as so much misinformation was being spread.”
“We were constantly double checking numbers and information with concerned authorities and parties to make sure we were accurate, especially as misinformation was rampant,” she adds.
Apart from Indian media, international news agencies got reinforcements of reporters, photojournalists and editors from the region, and other foreign correspondents also flew in when Kathmandu airport was opened after 48 hours.
Adds Mathema: “Sometimes foreign reporters can give a fresh perspective or an angle which we could not see or cover. So their inputs are always helpful.”
In the aftermath of the violence, there were plenty of jokes and memes, clips of protesters dancing, in weird poses and performing martial arts, showcasing the light hearted side of the protests while also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-meme-revolution">reaffirming the resilience</a> of people able to bounce back from something so traumatic.
The GenZ clean-up campaigns, neighbourhoods helping restore burnt out police stations and local people’s emotional reaction to the burnt out hulks of government buildings at the city centre also <a href="https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/people/article/3325635/nepals-gen-z-protesters-lead-clean-campaign-after-violent-clashes">made news</a>.
“After the protests, people were quick to gather and clean up public spaces and paint police stations. This is a scene which may not be so common in other countries with similar violence,” adds Gurubacharya. “So it became an important story to also tell the world.”&nbsp;
In less than two days, the world saw a dramatic toppling of a democratic government. With the interim government led by former chief justice Sushila Karki, there is much hope. She has expanded her ministerial cabinet, and the election has been announced for 5 March 2026 but between then and now, a lot remains uncertain.&nbsp;
And Nepal will continue to be watched by national and international media alike until then and after. AP’s Gurubacharya sums it up: “For now, we are taking it one day at a time.”