<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b919a9c7e80680e06f0fdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="1280"/><figcaption>Bidi Yolkey Rai mapping the sate of deliberative decision-making in her Palika.</figcaption></figure>Bidi Yolkey Rai, 28, struggles to conduct an online session on the importance of local government committees that deal with Covid-19, the climate impact on agriculture, or road construction. “मलाई सुनि राख्नु भएको छ?” (“Can you hear me?”) She asks from time to time.The internet in this remote part of Rolpa district is erratic, and the faces of local government officials freeze often on her laptop monitor. Her work is to mentor members of local municipalities to better understand problems, plan solutions and implement them through a deliberative decision-making process.After Nepal’s local governments were elected in the 2017 federal elections, many municipal council members were unsure of their responsibilities, mandates, and decision-making roles. Rai’s job is to support them in local governance.Till a month ago, Rai would pack some snacks and a bottle of water in her backpack, put on hiking shoes and be off to visit another distant ward in roadless Rolpa to meet the local representatives. However, as the second wave of the Covid-19 pandemic moved up to the mountains it changed everything.“Why are we not treated equally?”Bidi Yolkey Rai is one of the many local government mentors who had to return home after the pandemic hit the country in late April, and she now conducts her meetings online – bandwidth permitting.She is part of the ‘Coherence’ program that supports elected members of Nepal’s municipalities and wards to strengthen their planning and decision-making capabilities. Politics is all very new in this rugged and isolated district that was the cradle of the Maoist armed struggle in 1996.Rai herself saw the decade-long conflict up close as a child. Almost every day, the insurgents would appear at their home and her parents would have to feed them without asking any questions.One day while on her way to school, she was caught in the crossfire between the guerrillas and the security forces. Witnessing violence up close, she was convinced politics was a dirty game and all about killing people, and she was never going to be a part of it. Nineteen years later, she still cannot walk the path where the skirmish took place.Yet, after the conflict ended in 2006 and her father joined the movement for the inclusion of indigenous rights in the Constitution, Rai began to slowly change her opinion about politics—it could be a vehicle for peaceful societal reform. She respected her father, and it all started making sense to her.“I started thinking maybe politics was not such a bad thing, after all,” Rai recalls. “If all of us are humans, why were we not treated equally?”At an age when her teenage friends were out having fun, Rai found herself taking part in conversations about identity politics. She moved to Kathmandu to go to college, but there she got a rude shock. Her classmates made fun of her for talking about political rights and inclusion. To be accepted by her peers, she had to cut herself off any talk of politics and gossip about fashion and celebrities like her friends.But after volunteering for Teach for Nepal, Rai found her true calling in life, and although the idea of mentoring politicians twice her age was intimidating at first, she has been more than up to the challenge.“Fake speeches and hollow promises”Nara Sunar, 29, is also a mentor with the Coherence program, and had to flee his home village in Humla at age 13 when the Maoists demanded that every household had to contribute one fighter for the revolution. It took him six days to walk to a road head to get a bus to the border, and he worked in India for a few years.At the end of the conflict he landed up in Kathmandu to continue his studies with the help of a child rights organisation. Like Bidi Rai, he was also turned off by politics and thought it was “full of fake speeches and hollow promises” because every time he went back to his village in Humla, the reality struck him that nothing had changed.“My friends who fought the war were behaving exactly like they did before. It was as if politics was all about using us people for the benefit of a few to get to power,” Sunar recalls.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-past-present-and-future-in-a-photo/">Nepal’s past, present and future in a photo</a>, Bhumi Ghimire<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b919c9c7e80680e06f0fejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1943" height="1404"><figcaption>Nara Sunar conversing with the Chair of a Palika in Humla</figcaption></figure>When Indra Nath Mishra, 26, returned to his village after graduating in mechanical engineering from India, schools were closed, there were protests across the Madhes and people roamed around with guns.“Politics for me meant fear, I saw it as something that only brought trouble,” Mishra recalls. It was only after he joined a government college in Kathmandu that was steeped in debate about the new constitution that he began to reconsider his earlier perception about politics. He found the issues raised by the Madhes-based parties agreeable, but not without questions.Chiranjivi Pandey, 29, did not hate politics as such, but his perception of political issues of the day were rather shaped by teashop discussions or newspaper headlines. He believed that politics itself was not bad, it was the politicians that were the problem who were giving politics a bad name.With the promulgation of the new Constitution in 2015 that replaced Nepal’s unitary and centralised state structure with a federal system of governance, the ‘system’ formally changed. The first elections under the federal constitution in 2017 reinstated political representatives at the local levels for the first time after 20 years of being ruled by civil servants appointed by Kathmandu.The new Constitution promised the ‘elimination of all forms of discrimination’ and the formation of ‘an egalitarian society’ based on the principles of proportional inclusion. The Constitution promised hope through the devolution of political decision-making and inclusion.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b919f9c7e80680e06f0ffjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Indra Nath Mishra and Chiranjivi Panday in a Palika in Madhesh.</figcaption></figure>“The youth are free of baggage of the past”Seizing the opportunity, the intergovernmental <a href="https://www.idea.int/">International IDEA</a> in partnership with Nepal’s Ministry of Federal Affairs and UK’s General Administration and Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office (then DFID) designed a program to support the newly-elected local governments.In 2018, it had its first batch of mentors ready to pilot the approach in Humla. However, it was not an easy decision to make because the perception was that federalism was such a complex issue that only ‘experts’ could explain it to local governments.Budhi Karki of International IDEA, who proposed the idea of young mentors recalls: “We were clear that supporting local governments means supporting the federal system, and that would bring devolution. You cannot support change with the same old way of thinking and working. If we had used experts, they would have needed to unlearn what they had been doing with local bodies in the past. With fresh youth, we were free from that baggage, they had a learning attitude and they were ready to work in any place with extreme conditions.”Under the program, the mentors were selected and went through a month-long induction designed to prepare the mentors about the basics of Nepal’s federal system, structure, and processes of local governance, and most importantly, the attitude and approach needed for the new way of support.Since 2018, International IDEA has mobilised almost 50 mentors, some in partnership with Kathmandu University and Nitishala Nepal who have served in 15 local governments in Karnali, Lumbini Provinces, and Province 2.As a mentor Bidi Rai immediately came face to face with the powerful idea of letting local people decide local issues. “When I was younger I used to wonder why Kathmandu made all the decisions about our community without knowing anything about local problems. The elected local leaders I interacted with knew everyone in their village, and this forced them to be more accountable to people,” she says.“Is he really a people’s leader if he rides a horse to meetings?”Chiranjivi Pandey was also struck that decentralisation of government was beginning to allow people to channel their grievances. One day, he heard someone say at a municipality training in Karnali Province: “Is he really a people’s leader if he rides a horse to meetings?” It showed to him that federalism had empowered local people to speak up.“Suddenly, they could stop the representatives they elected anywhere and anytime to vent their problems,” he adds.Contrary to his experience in Karnali, Chiranjivi found less political awareness amongst the people as well as local representatives in Madhes. His colleague Indra Nath Mishra, who has experience working in both the mountains and plains, has an explanation for this.He says, “The mountains have geographical complexities which are not man-made, they are of a topographical nature. The problems in Madhes are man-made. Important leadership positions in local governments are held by old-generation leaders who are still in the Panchayat era. They do politics for their own political or economic gain, they don’t care for us, they don’t fear us.”He adds that the problems do not end there. Many elected representatives, such as ward council members lack a basic understanding of their roles and responsibilities under federalism. They are the ones whose decision-making capacity and accountability have to be enhanced. But the trainings are conducted by so called ‘senior’ (and mostly retired) experts who are rigid in their ways, and lack the empathy to support the devolution process.“We stayed in a few trainings they delivered, and I observed a disrespectful attitude towards the locally elected representatives,” says Pandey. “They think local politicians don’t know anything. The PowerPoint slides provide fragmented information, and they often miss the bigger picture. There is no follow-up, it’s like a one-time job for them. Unfortunately, the government and development partners often go after them.”After attending a few of these trainings in the mountains, mid-hills and Tarai, Pandey is convinced that it is in the Madhes where the capacity building through mentorship is needed the most.He also feels that political parties have deceived the people by their choice of candidates for the reserved posts of historically excluded groups. “Even when more politically aware candidates from these groups were available, the ones chosen are often the silent, pliant individuals who do not question their authority. I wonder if this was a calculated move by the parties,” Pandey adds.As a member of the Dalit community himself, Nara Sunar feels that there is still a long way to go, even within the federal system, towards meaningful inclusion in social and political spaces.“The Dalit and women are there only because of the quota. Even then, a few influential ones have captured the power, and other representatives are silent observers. I have had Dalit representatives come to me asking to come along while presenting their plans in the meeting because they would not be heard if they were alone,” says Sunar, while admitting that it is because of the mandatory quotas that the dynamics of political space is more favourable to change than the social space.“The biggest change is that the minorities are there and they know that they have equal rights and a share of the resources. The question in front of us now is how to support them and make the best use of those resources and it’s not easy,” Sunar adds.Bidi Rai blames the lack of deliberation around the planning process for this anomaly. “There is no proper assessment of problems. The budget distribution, especially for the women and Dalit is considered as a checklist. How does a one-day pickle-making training or a celebration of women’s day serve to change the lives of women?” she asks.“Nothing is apolitical”Born to a privileged family in Kathmandu, Melissa Shrestha, 25, got her education abroad. Staying in Karnali, Melissa learnt the hardships of rural life, the basic day-to-day necessities they struggle to meet that she took for granted.“My parents were  opposed to me joining this program till the last minute, but I wanted to get out of my bubble,” Shrestha says. “I used to post only pretty pictures on Facebook so that they did not force me to return. Coming here helped me examine my privileges and understand the dynamics of governance.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91a29c7e80680e06f100jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption>Melissa Shrestha visiting a Palika in Rukum West with her teammate.</figcaption></figure>As a youth, Indra Mishra was always saddened to see the state of his village: the roads would be ‘soil-topped’ only to be swept away by floods every year.“I used to think that development was all about infrastructure. This program made me realise that service delivery and social development are equally important, and so is the process through which we reach the decisions on development priorities. However technical the subject is, if it involves a political process, it is a political decision,” Mishra says, “That’s why nothing is apolitical. Politics is like the universal set of a Venn-diagram, and every other topic are the subsets of it.”Working closely with local representatives, listening to their personal stories of struggle and success, their frustrations and satisfaction have given Mishra and his fellow mentors of the Coherence program an insider look into local politics. They are not just mere observers of the system anymore.It has given them a deeper understanding of the political process, the knowledge of ground realities, and most of all an attitude not to take things at face value. Some are taking the knowledge and perspectives they gained as mentors beyond their jobs to support their own municipalities during the Covid-19 crisis—transforming them to become more responsible and conscious citizens.Despite the gloom and doom of the political paralysis in Kathmandu, the mentorship program brings a glimmer of hope that political decentralisation is the way forward for Nepal. There is also the realisation that a new generation of young Nepalis have the energy and optimism about the future to bring about the changes from the grassroots up.They strive to break the glass ceiling while at the same time diving deep to see things holistically. This is a generation that vows to correct the injustices of the past, and that believes as much in the process as in the final goal.However, these young mentors are also proof that there has been so little investment to channel the energy, motivation and commitment of Nepal’s youths. They are considered nothing but stepping stones by the political parties for their own partisan gain, and they are not trusted enough to participate as the agents of change.Just like many of the Coherence program mentors themselves believed before they joined up, there are many young people in Nepal who abhor politics because they think it is a dirty game, they avoid following the news and blame politicians for everything that is wrong with the country. This program has shown that it is possible to change that, and to engage the youth and turn them into agents of political reform.“If not us, who?”Phanindra Adhikary leads the Coherence program at International IDEA and screens applications for the post of mentors, and admits that it is disheartening to see these youths with big degrees not having the basic knowledge of what is happening in the country.“Maybe this is why a program like this is more relevant than ever,” says Adhikari, who himself was in the last batch of the National Development Service volunteer program in the 1970s after finishing college.“For us at that time, the learning was limited as we were just volunteer teachers. But it was also thrilling and it helped me to widen my worldview,” he says. “What the youth have here is a lot more than that – it is a direct engagement to influence governments at the grassroots.”Indra Mishra, who had thought of running for local elections in 2017 has not ruled out the possibility in the next polls.Being one of only two people with a master’s degree in his village, Nara Sunar is skeptical that people would vote a Dalit as a municipality chair, but he is not giving up yet.Bidi Rai says the program has helped her realise that she has a key role in the process of change. She says, “If not us, who?”Durga Karki herself worked as a local government mentor for International                IDEA and now works for its Coherence program. <img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121140/636b91a59c7e80680e06f101jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="88" height="109">

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“Everything is political”

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111156/6368e44c9c7e80680e0333d0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="659"/>Environmental pollution is not Nepal’s only problem. Citizens around the globe share social, economic and developmental problems. If our situation is the same, our destiny is also the same. So, we have no choice but to unite and solve our problems together. We have to think beyond our surroundings and become global citizens.”These words are not from an environmentalist or a politician, but from Ankit Sangroula, a Grade 8 student at Mount View School in Bhaktapur. Speaking at Hotel Yak &amp; Yeti, his speech left the room full of adults awestruck.Sangroula is one of the students mentored by <a href="https://schoolsonline.britishcouncil.org/about-programmes/connecting-classrooms">Connecting Classrooms</a>, a joint initiative between the British Council and the UK’s Department for International Development (DfID). The program is designed to cultivate knowledge, skills and values in young people so they can live and work in a globalised economy. Working off the beaten track of academic system, the initiative connects students across the world to foster national and international friendship.It also inspires young people to make positive contributions locally and globally. For example, in Baijanathpur, Morang, eight toilets were built by students from Makalu School without any support from donors or local banks. They gave an alternative to villagers who previously used riverbanks as a bathroom where they were sometimes bitten by snakes or chased by the police, but now they have an alternative. The local village council and the rest of the villagers followed their steps by constructing more toilets.The Open Defecation Eradication Project was one of the Council’s successful Social Action Projects conducted in Nepal’s schools. The projects are student-led initiatives focused on tackling community issues and inspiring leadership and team spirit in students. The Social Action Project has been collaborating with 100 schools from 24 districts, involving 16,200 students and reaching out to around 17,000 community members to solve social problems.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111156/6368e44e9c7e80680e0333d1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The project results have left many impressed. “When these little students came to us to talk about building toilets, we were so proud of them. All of us here are really thankful for this initiative,” says Jhameli Rishidev of Baijanathpur.In total, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BritishCouncilNepal/">British Council</a> has reached out to more than 250 schools in Nepal through International School Award (ISA), integrated with a curriculum that focuses on digital literacy, critical thinking and problem solving, creativity and imagination, student leadership, collaboration and communication and citizenship.The event where Sangroula gave a confident speech was ISA, one of the key programs of the British Council under Connecting Classrooms that recognises schools showing strong commitment to enriching students’ lives and inspiring interest in international cultures and global issues.“Through ISA, I have learnt to use the knowledge we get from books to solve problems around us. Before, we just read books and listened to our teachers. But now we learn by doing,” says Sangroula.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111156/6368e4519c7e80680e0333d2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="665"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nineteen other schools were awarded and four schools were re-accredited for the year 2017/18 during the event, out of 42 schools from 14 districts. The award, into its 6th edition, is endorsed by the Department of Education.Connecting Classrooms has reached out to students, teachers and school leaders in over 30 countries to improve teaching and learning experience through school partnerships and policy dialogues, recognising and awarding progressive schools and encouraging students to lead initiatives. It also provides core skill training to school leaders and teachers on how to make the profession more effective and impactful.Dhani Ram Sharma, a teacher from Nepal Rastriya Chandraganga Secondary School in Surkhet says, "ISA brought dynamic changes in our teaching staff as well as students. Students got golden opportunity to interact with international students through Skype and email. We, teachers learnt about ICT and brought changes in our traditional/ lecture teaching approach, developing innovative techniques."<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111156/6368e4549c7e80680e0333d3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111156/6368e4579c7e80680e0333d4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="417"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Schools receiving International School Award 2017/18<table width="518"><tbody><tr><td width="55">1</td><td width="349">Nepal Rastriya Chandra Ganga school</td><td width="113">Surkhet</td></tr><tr><td width="55">2</td><td width="349">Orchid School</td><td width="113">Chitwan</td></tr><tr><td width="55">3</td><td width="349">Celebration Co-ed School</td><td width="113">Kathmandu</td></tr><tr><td width="55">4</td><td width="349">Vidya Sagar English Secondary school</td><td width="113">Kavre</td></tr><tr><td width="55">5</td><td width="349">Nabin Audhyogic Kadak Bahadur Rita School</td><td width="113">Rupandehi</td></tr><tr><td width="55">6</td><td width="349">Sanskriti International School</td><td width="113">Kathmandu</td></tr><tr><td width="55">7</td><td width="349">Him Rashmi Secondary School</td><td width="113">Kathmandu</td></tr><tr><td width="55">8</td><td width="349">Pragyan Academy</td><td width="113">Jhapa</td></tr><tr><td width="55">9</td><td width="349">KK International School</td><td width="113">Dharan</td></tr><tr><td width="55">10</td><td width="349">Mount View English Boarding School</td><td width="113">Bhaktapur</td></tr><tr><td width="55">11</td><td width="349">Traibidya Sikchhya Sadan Academy</td><td width="113">Kathmandu</td></tr><tr><td width="55">12</td><td width="349">Sudesha High School</td><td width="113">Lalitpur</td></tr><tr><td width="55">13</td><td width="349">Eureka School</td><td width="113">Dharan</td></tr><tr><td width="55">14</td><td width="349">Jhapa Model School</td><td width="113">Jhapa</td></tr><tr><td width="55">15</td><td width="349">Babylon School</td><td width="113">Kathmandu</td></tr><tr><td width="55">16</td><td width="349">Shreejana Higher Secondary Boarding School</td><td width="113">Pokhara</td></tr><tr><td width="55">17</td><td width="349">Ambika secondary school</td><td width="113">Pokhara</td></tr><tr><td width="55">18</td><td width="349">Gorkha Intl Public School</td><td width="113">Dang</td></tr><tr><td width="55">19</td><td width="349">Eurokids school Chhauni</td><td width="113">Kathmandu</td></tr></tbody></table>

Young change makers

After a week of violent and destructive protests, Nepal’s President Ram Chandra Poudel on Friday appointed <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/justice-in-chief,804">former Chief Justice Sushila Karki</a> as a caretaker Prime Minister to lead an interim citizens' government.&nbsp; Poudel had been in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">closed-door discussions since Thursday</a> with youth members who spearheaded the protests, constitutional experts, the House Speaker, and the Army Chief. There was a consensus on the choice of Karki as candidate for interim prime minister, but her swearing-in was stalled due to a disagreement about Constitutional processes for her appointment.&nbsp; Youth delegates and Karki demanded that Parliament be dissolved before the appointment of the caretaker prime minister, while President Poudel had been arguing that Parliament would be automatically dissolved once the new council of ministers announced elections. Representing the GenZ movement, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-or-what-is-hami-nepal">Sudan Gurung</a> (pictured, below) is said to have insisted that dissolution of Parliament first was non-negotiable because he did not trust the political parties. He is said to have added that he would call his supporters out into the streets, and the President relented. The military’s warning earlier that an emergency would be declared if there was no agreement tonight clinched it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091216098_cdd409c5824b578a04f05a43280e3f475d92bf7123d3a4565b4d720768fcc1b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025091216098_cdd409c5824b578a04f05a43280e3f475d92bf7123d3a4565b4d720768fcc1b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="600" loading="lazy" alt="Sudan Gurung"> <figcaption>Sudan Gurung of Hami Nepali during negotiations.</figcaption> </figure>  With this, Karki becomes Nepal’s first female prime minister, exactly a decade after she became the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/a-woman-is-as-capable-sushila-karki,3375">country’s first female chief justice in 2016</a>.&nbsp; Nepalis, still shocked by the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">death and destruction of the past week</a>, heaved a sigh of relief at the announcement, which was greeted as a victory of youth power for political reform led by the GenZ movement. Its initial anti-corruption protest on 8-9 September <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">spiralled out of control into violence and arson</a> nationwide that claimed at least 51 lives. Several other candidates were floated for the caretaker prime minister’s post. Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah and former head of the electricity utility Kulman Ghising were being considered, but both declined possibly because they want to contest the next national elections. Given her experience in the judiciary and zero tolerance for corruption, Karki was the favourite of various groups within the GenZ campaign.&nbsp; The site of the negotiations moved to the official residence of the president in Shital Niwas from the Nepal Army Headquarters on Thursday. The Army had come under criticism on social media and from civil society for detaining the President and not letting him speak or be a part of the negotiation.&nbsp; This fuelled public perception that the military had a soft spot for a return of the monarchy. There were widespread rumours on Thursday that king Gyanendra, who was ousted after the abolition of the monarchy in 2008, was trying to stage a comeback by piggybacking on the agitation. Writing on X, senior journalist Kishore Nepal revealed that the Chief of Army Staff Ashokraj Sigdel had allegedly asked Poudel to step aside and pave the way for the military to negotiate, to which the President is said to have replied: “I will not resign. Kill me instead and blame it on the protesters. Then you can do whatever you like.” Live broadcast of swearing in of Sushila Karki:&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/53go4OxuOa0?si=Zd89QGIAX8-7Bm75" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091219094_41b0f97a5925ab6969e1413636bf073ae43262893a55d9c177cb1312dea52f0d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025091219094_41b0f97a5925ab6969e1413636bf073ae43262893a55d9c177cb1312dea52f0d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="851" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki swearing in"> <figcaption>President ram Chandra Poudel swearing in Sushila Karki as the 42nd Prime Minister of Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091303098_8f2b6f98898c4cd73c271caa51b8e29d679a7385c249380aeb96d7cc2c3f6dba.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025091303098_8f2b6f98898c4cd73c271caa51b8e29d679a7385c249380aeb96d7cc2c3f6dba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1480" height="924" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki PM"> <figcaption>GenZ representatives with new Prime Minister Sushila Karki after her swearing in.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091301098_470dbca4f4d34ca4533ce4d160045ffe8e525e98380f6f1e20eb24a6236c6029.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025091301098_470dbca4f4d34ca4533ce4d160045ffe8e525e98380f6f1e20eb24a6236c6029" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki PM"> <figcaption>Sushila Karki with supporters including Genz representative Sudan Gurung of Hami Nepal and Sumana Shrestha of Rastriya Swatantra Party.</figcaption> </figure>  COURAGE AND INTEGRITY Sushila Karki served as the chief justice between 11 July 2016 to 6 June 2017, and has been known for her frugal ways. She was a firebrand judge unafraid to ruffle powerful feathers, and as chief justice was behind ruling to impeach for abuse of office a powerful head of Nepal’s anti-graft body in 2016. She wrote that he had ‘<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/the-end-of-karkistocracy,827">neither the moral character nor qualifications for the post</a>’. Even before she became Chief Justice, Karki was one of the two judges on the bench that convicted the sitting Minister for Information and Communication, Jaya Prakash Gupta, of corruption in 2012. Then in 2016, a bench including Karki ruled against granting amnesty to former Maoist lawmaker and convicted murderer Bal Krishna Dhungel. Karki was born on 7 June 1952 in Biratnagar. She completed her undergraduate studies at Mahendra Morang College in 1972 before obtaining a postgraduate degree in political science from Banaras Hindu University in India three years later. This was followed by a Bachelor's in Law in 1978 from Tribhuvan University, and she started her law career as an advocate a year later. In 1985, Karki worked as a teacher at Mahendra Multiple Campus in Dharan, and was jailed for participating in the 1990 People’s Movement to overthrow the Panchayat absolute monarchy. She became a senior Advocate at the Nepal Bar Association in 2008 and was appointed an Ad-Hoc Justice at the Supreme Court in January 2009.&nbsp; On Thursday, there were supporters for other candidates for the post sloganeering against Karki’s nomination outside the Army Headquarters. Some on social media were also skeptical of her connection to the Nepali Congress (NC) party. Growing up in Biratnagar Karki was close to the family of B P Koirala, Nepal’s first elected prime minister in 1960. Her husband Durga Subedi was part of a group of underground Congress activists who hijacked a Royal Nepal Airlines plane in 1973, flying it to India to snatch cash belonging to Nepal Rastra Bank in the cargo hold.&nbsp; The money was used for the party’s pro-democracy campaign. Karki has no love lost for the political establishment. In April 2017, the governing coalition under Maoist Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/lady-justice-sushila-karki,3693">submitted an impeachment motion against her</a> after the Supreme Court overturned his decision to install a favoured police chief, violating succession based on seniority. It was a political move backed by Dahal’s coalition partner Sher Bahadur Deuba of the NC who was waiting to become prime minister for the 4th time. CHALLENGES AHEAD With Karki now in charge of the interim government, she has the daunting task of forming a council of ministers made up of amorphous and disparate groups from the GenZ, technocrats, and current politicians. Karki has said she will not prevent members of her cabinet from contesting elections, which means those with electoral aspirations like Kulman Ghising, Balen Shah and Sumana Shrestha could be asked to join. Karki has her work cut out as she has to get her team members to pull in the same direction to hold free and fair elections. She also has to make sure she has the support of the military without giving the generals too much say, while also smartly maneuvering Nepal’s precarious geopolitical ties with its giant neighbours, China and India. But most of all, the new prime minister must lay the foundations to not just physically rebuild the judiciary, executive and legislature but also ensure that elections will produce a more accountable and efficient government. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trial-by-fire">Trial By Fire</a>, Editorial

Madam Prime Minister of Nepal

Many had never heard of <a href="https://www.haminepal.org/">Hami Nepal</a>, the organisation that is part of the GenZ movement that did not just topple the government this week, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">pushed Nepal’s political system into new, uncharted territory</a>. It was part of an organic coming together of various youth groups fed up with Nepal’s corruption, mismanagement and lack of accountability. Hami Nepal and its GenZ comrades are now part of the negotiations with the Army to form an interim government. Hami Nepal is a non-profit dedicated to supporting communities and individuals in need, guided by its motto ‘For the People, By the People’. Its core mission is to assist individuals and communities in need, particularly during emergencies and crises, with a focus on directly connecting donors with recipients, and delivering aid efficiently and transparently. It was set up after the 2015 earthquake, but was formally registered and gained recognition in 2020 during the Covid-19 pandemic. Hami Nepal is led by 36-year-old civic activist Sudan Gurung who started the organisation after he lost his own son in the 2015 earthquake.&nbsp; Leading up to the events this week, it played a central role in guiding the demonstrations, using its Instagram and Discord platforms to circulate protest information and share guidelines. Other GenZ groups used their own WhatsApp groups and other fora.&nbsp; Among the 20 or so volunteers is Ronesh Pradhan, who spoke to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-gen-z-protest-turns-deadly">Nepali Times on 8 September </a>morning during the GenZ rally, before the violence escalated.&nbsp; “The voices of young people matter. We can’t keep being ruled by the same old men,” Pradhan said. “Our generation is the future and if there are older leaders in government, they need to be competent and accountable. We are ready to lead this country forward.” Hami Nepal’s earliest visible campaigns include donating more than 400 blankets to Bir Hospital’s Covid unit in 2022, creating a plasma and oxygen bank during the pandemic, and distributing school jackets to children in rural districts. More recently, it mounted a relief effort in response to the 2023 Jajarkot earthquake, reaching over 13,000 families with shelter, food, and medical support. The organisation was also associated with the two-month ‘Save Ghopa’ campaign, demanding effective and smooth administration of the BPKIHS (B P Koirala Institute of Health Sciences) in Dharan. The organisation was also actively engaged in providing rescue and relief during the Kagbeni and Sindhupalchok floods this year. It even sent aid to Turkey after its 2023 earthquake. After the Kavre floods last year, Hami Nepal donated solar lights. Funding for Hami Nepal comes directly from public donations, with a policy of channeling 100% of received funds for aid distribution. Volunteers self-finance administrative costs, and the group publishes detailed expenditure figures, regularly sharing updates and transparency reports through their social media and website which it launched at its Annual General Meeting in Bhaktapur last year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250911090920_cd40c472bd7e06cc038a2d77a431cba777b6f53e4374a0216c9af2c4feb56c88.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250911090920_cd40c472bd7e06cc038a2d77a431cba777b6f53e4374a0216c9af2c4feb56c88" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="719" loading="lazy" alt="Who, or what, is Hami Nepal?"> </figure>  Following the death of Nepali student Prakriti Lamsal at KIIT University in India earlier this year, Hami Nepal advocated for justice using its Instagram account, raising concern about the safety of Nepali students. Its advocacy platform started with rescue and relief, and Hami Nepal managed to develop a track record for efficient campaigns and transparency in Nepal’s humanitarian landscape. But its work pushed the group to realise that there was a deeper malaise in Nepali society. Its #youthsagainstcorruption campaign on social media platforms gained rapid momentum, and that led to the rally on 8 September. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">Nepal’s 8 September massacre</a>, Shristi Karki The international #Nepobaby trend on TikTok propelled the rally even more, and young Nepalis used it to expose the scions of powerful politicians and politically-connected influencers who were exhibiting their flashy lifestyles on social media while citizens struggled with joblessness, corruption and poor service delivery. Public anger reached a tipping point when the UML-NC coalition led by Prime Minister K P Oli announced a sweeping ban on major social media platforms citing tax revenue, cyber security, and lack of content moderation. Netizens, civil society and media, however, saw it as the latest authoritarian attempt by the government to clamp down on free speech, increase surveillance of citizens and constrict Nepal’s open society. Susmita Khadka, 22, told us at the rally: “Politics is everywhere. Gen Z has the most platforms, and we want a revolution.” Leading up to 8 September, the GenZ movement disseminated information and reassured participants with volunteers readily available for help, medical support, and assistance. It put up a protest support helpline so that students needing assistance could get help. As the protests intensified, leaving at least 20 dead outside Parliament, and forcing Prime Minister K P Oli to resign, Hami Nepal shifted into a mediator role, engaging in talks with officials and seeking GenZ’s views on future leadership.&nbsp; Influencers like TikToker Nimesh Shrestha publicly backed the group, amplifying their voice in ongoing negotiations with the Nepal Army alongside other GenZ representatives. However, as the protests escalated on 9 September, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">resulting in massive arson and vandalism of public and private property</a>, many GenZ activists disavowed association with the attackers, saying their movement had been infiltrated. The group backtracked, with Gurung saying he was not the leader of the protests.&nbsp; Meanwhile, others accused Hami Nepal for singlehandedly speaking with the Army chief, and said that they did not represent GenZ’s collective voice. Most GenZ supporters backed <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/justice-in-chief,804">Former Chief Justice Sushila Karki</a> as their candidate for interim prime minister in an online group. Not everyone in the GenZ movement agrees with that choice, with support for Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah, even though he has endorsed Karki’s appointment. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang rushed to Kathmandu on Wednesday to push his own candidacy. Hami Nepal has supported Balen Shah to lead the country for the next five years, not just during the interim period, and have called on the public to share their posts supporting Shah to amplify the message. With the old guard gone, there is a power vacuum with multiple actors with competing interests to fill it. GenZ’s youth-led activism has brought new energy for political reform, but its real test begins now — whether it can unite Hami Nepal and other sections to negotiate with the Nepal Army.&nbsp;

Who, or what, is Hami Nepal?

One Friday night last month, we were swapping stories about Vipassana, a rigorous <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/practicing-mindfulness-in-schools?fbclid=IwAR2X1T9SNG1tWe61UPqMUgHjOWNZ4U1foJyURLJMrjYAsUdr4u_mz1rmC1U">meditation</a> technique of silent observation, over dinner. We spoke of its ten days of noble silence, of respiration, observation, and sensation.&nbsp; I told them about my first retreat in Lumbini last year when my mind kept getting distracted: ‘What is happening in the outside world? Is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-were-the-days-knea0341">K P Oli still prime minister</a>? When I emerged ten days later, he was still PM. During my second Vipassana in February this year, I reassured my mind that nothing dramatic could unfold in ten days. Still, my gut knew this country was always one headline away from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trial-by-fire">revolution</a>. By my third retreat, I was confident, even cocky.&nbsp; At that dinner, I joked: “What could possibly change? If Oli survived my first two meditation retreats, the world can hold steady for a third.” I should’ve known better. On 1 September, I was back at Shivapuri for the second time, my third retreat, with no expectations — only hope that ten days of noble silence would peel yet another layer from my mind.&nbsp; Vipassana is a paradox: brutally difficult, yet infinitely generous. It is the tool needed to tame and know your unconscious mind, and to know yourself even a little through it is a profound achievement. My room at Z House had the best view of the Kathmandu Valley. I developed a ritual: press my hands against my cheeks and stare down at the city. The city below looks chaotic, but somehow beautiful in its stubbornness, where pollution and pride coexist. From up there, it looked like no one was free, trapped in their egos, pettiness and misery.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250913090920_9e77930ed911289c05a731605157f402c06249347e33964dc59c58d32dc2a6d6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250913090920_9e77930ed911289c05a731605157f402c06249347e33964dc59c58d32dc2a6d6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1300" loading="lazy" alt="Vipassana during Nepal revolution"> <figcaption>Those undergoing Vipassana in Sundarijal had no idea of the chaos and mayhem the country was undergoing. Photos: AARSALA ADHIKARI(Photo: Sonia Awale)</figcaption> </figure>  Then, softer thoughts of Metta and compassion would emerge. If only every single person could sit in silence and know their breath, just once. Blessed with ten days of Dhamma teachings on universal law, I imagined our 334 patriarchal parliamentarians and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/house-of-cards?%2F">Oli, Deuba, Prachanda trinity</a>. UNSEEN CHAOS On the seventh and the eighth days of Vipassana (8–9 September) there was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">black smoke rising from the Valley </a>below. Why were people burning all that garbage? There was no traffic on the straight road down from Budanilkantha. There were gunshots, and I assumed locals were shooting at marauding monkeys. I mistook the sound of helicopters at night for flights circling after takeoff.&nbsp; On the ninth day and in the morning of the tenth, it rained heavily. I tried to spot Dharara like I did every day, but the city was shrouded in a blanket of thick black smog. Even after two days of heavy rain, the smoke had not been washed down. This did not make sense, but my mind had returned to the safe harbour of my meditation. Nothing to see here. On the morning of 9/11, the tenth day, as we emerged from silence, the hall outside filled with chatter. Many people left, weeping, overwhelmed by the experience of the past ten days. We joked about our hardships and dreamt of delicious food, feeling a wave of accomplishment after a documentary about how Vipassana had transformed Tihar Jail in New Delhi.&nbsp; The hall radiated with inspiration and hope. Then, as the film ended an assistant teacher made an announcement: “There are serious protests going on in the Valley. K P Oli has resigned as prime minister. There are no cabinet ministers. The military has taken over, and a curfew has been imposed.”&nbsp; The news hit like a lightning bolt. Mental tranquility gave way to gasps of “What the f**k?” In the main Dhamma Hall, some women erupted in applause. We had spent ten days cultivating Metta, only to step out and realise the world had erupted into chaos. We huddled, trying to piece together fragments of what was happening. The Valley was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-turmoil-will-hit-tourism">still covered in black smoke</a>, the main road was still quiet. A neighbour turned up the radio, reporting deaths, destruction and curfew.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250913050944_ce09e04207ef5eb72ea55800b76df0c16a9d46a3eea957a4ecb0d67e978c2595.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250913050944_ce09e04207ef5eb72ea55800b76df0c16a9d46a3eea957a4ecb0d67e978c2595" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Meme doing the rounds on social media"> <figcaption>Meme doing the rounds on social media. </figcaption> </figure>  A first-time meditator, Shivani Karn, overheard a neighbour from wall cross telling his son that people had been shot and that he should not go to school any more. She had wanted to flee the Centre, but stayed on. Stranded foreigners from Argentina to China were bewildered and terrified. Volunteers debriefed us, recounting the shocking details: buildings burning, ministers’ houses ransacked, Oli fleeing, Deuba and his wife beaten up. The leaders were all in the Shivapuri barracks up the mountain. Over 15,000 inmates had broken out of prison. It was a catastrophe unfolding in real time. The city felt ripped out from a nightmare. In the common space, people complained about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-gen-z-protest-turns-deadly">corruption and the ban on social media</a>. But an understanding emerged: both those in power and those who grant it are bound by the law of cause and effect. Driving down from Shivapuri on the morning of 12 September, my heart sank. The smog I had seen was smoke from still smouldering buildings. It was not garbage burning, but the rage of the people. Those were not people scaring away monkeys, but guns that killed innocent lives. The sound of aircraft were actually helicopters rescuing politicians.&nbsp; We drove past Singha Darbar, a charred ruin. Another Vipassana meditator, Anjali Baidya, shared a chilling memory. She recalled being 12 years old in 1973, watching from her home in Makhan Tole as Singha Durbar first caught fire. History had repeated itself 52 years later.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_e6bf05bfe95f519e05ab8d9016587211b241340fd23a0f9ae728e74747fc5f29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250910140912_e6bf05bfe95f519e05ab8d9016587211b241340fd23a0f9ae728e74747fc5f29" data-rendition-name="original" width="8064" height="6048" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> <figcaption>Singha Darba, the seat of the government, set ablaze on 9th September. Photo: KAMAL PRASAI</figcaption> </figure>  One Bhatbhateni supermarket after another were scorched, police stations, government offices, once symbols of everyday life. There were soldiers everywhere, not police. &nbsp;Amidst the devastation, a deeper truth settled in. This, too, was Anicca — impermanence. Anicca teaches us that all things are constantly changing, including our thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations. Political systems, power structures, national crises are all transitory. This understanding is crucial for healing. When we cling to the idea that a leader, political system or ourselves are permanent, we set ourselves up for disappointment and anger when it inevitably changes. The Dhamma teaches that responsibility is shared. The anger and fear on the streets are similar to feelings many carry inside. We Nepalis have intergenerational trauma. What I saw was not an abstraction: the gunshots and chaos echoed the terrifying nights of 1 February 2005 in Panauti, a grim replay of the fear I knew as a child at Malpi school, huddling with friends for safety.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">What next, Nepal?</a>, Shristi Karki Our national history is a series of ruptures that become personal landmarks. I was nine years old at my aunt’s birthday party on 1 June 2001, when the celebration was abruptly called off and we were sent home into the silent shock of a royal massacre.&nbsp; This pattern must be broken, and it starts now. The path to national healing must begin with individual healing. We can learn from the story of Angulimala, a violent figure who was transformed by the Buddha’s compassion. The Buddha walked steadily toward him and said, “I have stopped, Angulimala. You must stop too.” Angulimala realised the truth, renounced violence, and was enlightened. Cycles of anger and conflict can be softened and transformed. Nepal’s long-term well-being depends on our ability to approach the Dhamma as a pragmatic tool. Inner calm can help us process collective trauma. By cultivating forgiveness and compassion, we can create a stability that begins within. True healing begins when we stop externalising our pain or intellectualising our emotions, and start nurturing our own inner peace. As the dust settles, the true noise begins: the roar within. We are left with a stark choice: remain trapped in this endless loop of rage, or we can deliberately choose to stop. The Dhamma is not some philosophy for a meditation centre; it is the raw truth of our applied wisdom. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/madam-prime-minister-of-nepal">Sushila Karki, Nepal’s first female prime minister</a>, may have emerged as a new ‘messiah’ but we must begin to take responsibility and accountability. Change cannot come from chaos, it is a conscious effort we must make precisely when it feels most impossible.&nbsp; The path forward is not through the streets, but inward — into the ruins of our own self-righteousness. The disparity and deep-seated grudges are the quiet kindling that have brought this new revolution. The rage on the streets is about suppressed dignity, and a burning hunger for justice.&nbsp; It is time to check the recesses of our minds and hearts, sit down, breathe, and to ask: “When do we stop running, and when do we start healing?”&nbsp; Alisha Sijapati is a writer specialising in cultural heritage, and a former Nepali Times correspondent.

Vipassana during a revolution

Many young Nepalis at the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-gen-z-protest-turns-deadly">GenZ rally on 8 September</a> carried banners that read: ‘Enough Is Enough’. But by the end of the day and into 9 September, the arson and mayhem had gone out of control of the idealistic young activists. As Parliament, Singha Darbar, the Supreme Court, public and private property were <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">torched and looted</a>, ‘Enough Is Enough’ took on a new meaning. What started out as a hashtag-led campaign exposing the luxurious lifestyle and extravagance of the scions of powerful political figures soon snowballed into a larger movement against corruption and impunity. #Nepokids in Nepal metamorphosed into a political reform campaign, which again transmuted on Tuesday into class rage. The Oli-led coalition government’s ban on social media last week forced what was essentially an online movement into the streets. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">Hami Nepal </a>and the GenZ platform organised the rally at Mandala on Monday despite information that controversial political forces and other elements planned to infiltrate it. Which they did. By Tuesday afternoon, Kathmandu was being firebombed. The three pillars of state: the legislative, executive, and judiciary were reduced to ashes. Even the fourth estate was not spared, and became the target of unnamed arsonists.&nbsp; The damage was not just to physical buildings, but<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre"> to the national psyche</a>. But just like Hami Nepal emerged from the rubble of the 2015 earthquake, the GenZ movement now has to take the lead in rebuilding from the cinders of 2025. Nepal needs to rise from the ashes, and be reconstructed from the ground up by a new generation with accountable government, equitable and inclusive growth, and an open society. &nbsp; What this week’s upheaval showed, aside from the tragedy of the lives lost and physical destruction, is that Nepalis value freedom of expression and can use it to stand against injustice and keep fighting for reform and progress. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">What next, Nepal?</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250911120928_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250911120928_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71" data-rendition-name="original" width="6566" height="4377" loading="lazy" alt="Trial by fire"> <figcaption>Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption> </figure>  But there are pitfalls ahead. Some of the same forces that piggybacked on the GenZ rally are now outside the gates of Army Headquarters opposing the consensus candidate for interim prime minister. There are scores of imitation GenZs across the internet with familiar cast of characters from the past. The Army must have learnt from the 1 February 2005 experience that it should remain as a non-political institution of last resort — there cannot be wannabe prime ministers applying loudly for the job at the gates of its headquarters in Tundikhel. The Army was needed on the streets on Tuesday night, when the situation spiralled out of control. But it should now be President Ram Chandra Poudel who must take a more proactive role than he has so far in reestablishing stability. He cannot waste time in appointing an interim government led by a caretaker prime minister of unquestioned integrity to oversee elections. This is also the demand of GenZ activists, who want Parliament dissolved and changes in the Constitution to allow wide-ranging reforms. Changing the Constitution now will mean another shaky rigmarole like the 2008-2015 period. The amendments can be made after new elections. Our Common Ground A transformative transition like this also means a lot of uncertainty with competing interest groups trying to take advantage of the fluid situation. Nepal has gone through these upheavals before (although not on the scale we saw this week) with the 1990 People’s Movement or the 2006 Peace and Democracy Movement. Each time, there was hope that finally elected leaders who fought and suffered for liberation and freedom would deliver.&nbsp; Alas, the Nepali people have been let down every time. It has to be different this time. And who better to lead it than a new generation with hopes, aspirations, energy and resolve to build Nepal anew, led by a caretaker prime minister known for her independence, courage and honesty. In this edition, we carry two op-eds by Sri Lankan and Bangladeshi writers about similar youth-led movements that toppled governments in their countries in 2022 and 2024. Both have important lessons for Nepal’s GenZ. If<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/search?q=justice+in+chief"> former Chief Justice Sushila Karki</a> is appointed to head the interim government, she will be our Mohamad Yunus. But as we saw in Bangladesh, it did not go as smoothly as everyone had hoped. Similar story in the aftermath of Sri Lanka’s Aragalaya movement.&nbsp; There were different triggers in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Nepal, but one common strand was a neglected and disempowered citizenry which could not take it anymore. They organised organically through social media to push for change. The wildcard in all three countries is geopolitics, and the competing strategic interests of the India, China, United States triangle — especially with the Trump-Modi tiff. Time is now of the essence. The longer this drags on, the more difficult it will be to find common ground and start rebuilding. Ending the violence does not mean keeping things in a political vacuum.

young-people-making-changes

“Everything is political”

Young change makers

Madam Prime Minister of Nepal

Who, or what, is Hami Nepal?

Vipassana during a revolution

Trial By Fire