Many young people left the September 2025 protests in Nepal with scars — both physical, emotional, and financial
Originally published on Global Voices
Nepal's Gen Z protests against corruption in Bharatpur, south-central Nepal. Image via Wikipedia by Himal Subedi. CC BY-SA 4.0.
This post is part of Global Voices’ September 2026 Spotlight series, “Protest in Democracy.” With this Spotlight, we seek to explore the many forms of protest, the tactics states use to delegitimize and suppress them, and the complex relationship between protest and democracy. You can support this coverage by donating here.
Nepal observed its first Gen-Z Martyrs’ Day on September 8, 2026, with a nationwide public holiday, marking exactly one year since young protesters took to the streets and caused fundamental change throughout Nepal’s social and political system.
In September 2025, Nepal was gripped by nationwide protests led largely by students and members of Gen Z. The movement began with the government’s ban on social media platforms, but it quickly grew, without a leader, into a broader expression of public frustration over government corruption and inefficiency. Over several days, young Nepalis took to the streets across the country, protesting not only restrictions on online expression but also corruption, alleged misuse of public funds, and the visible wealth of political elites and their families. The protests then descended into confrontations with police officers that escalated and resulted in unlawful use of force, including severe human rights violations.
Liza’s frustrations
Among those caught in the violence was Liza Adhikari, 21, who was shot by an SLR bullet while standing opposite the Parliament Secretariat building. The bullet struck her from behind, tore through her body, and exited through the front, leaving behind an injury that cannot simply be stitched away.
Liza Adhikari, taken on a stretcher to the National Trauma Center Hospital in Kathmandu—half an hour after she was shot. Image via Liza Adhikari. Used with permission.
A final-year Bachelor of Business Administration student at Kathmandu University, Adhikari has not returned to her classes since the incident. She is left to suffer not just the physical damage but an emotional burden as well.
She appealed for financial assistance through social media and visited hospitals across Nepal in search of treatment. With limited options available, she eventually traveled to India, where she recently underwent brachial plexus surgery. The brachial plexus is a network of nerves that carries signals from the spinal cord to the shoulder, arm and hand, allowing movement and sensation.
In an online interview with the author from a hospital in India, Adhikari told Global Voices that the bullet had severely damaged the bones in her upper arm and doctors had told her that the veins were no longer functioning properly. Her chances of making a full recovery, she was told, remain uncertain. Yet she has not given up.
Liza Adhikari, present day, in Mahakali (Sudurpaschim) province of Nepal. Image taken by her mother. Used with permission.
That determination is also what brought her to the protest that day — something she now remembers with great loss and regret. The bullet has been removed, but its consequences continue to shape her health and educational path.
Liza wasn’t alone on the streets that day.
Shantanu’s story
Shantanu Dhakal’s survival from Itahari, in the Sunsari District of Koshi Province in Nepal, is yet another example of the lasting consequences of the violence that was no longer confined to the capital.
On September 8, 2025, Shantanu was in his college. Little did he know that the day of the protest would become an unexpected turning point in his life. For several days before the demonstration, he had been receiving information about the planned protest through social media.
The 18-year-old, an only son born into a middle-class farming family in Morang district of eastern Nepal, joined the protest in Itahari that day. He went with confidence, carrying a banner filled with slogans he had prepared with his friends.
“For the first hour, the streets were peaceful. But suddenly, after a while, crowds started marching aggressively, burning and throwing stones at public property and the Metropolitan City ward office. It lasted for two hours. Around four p.m., bullets and tear gas were fired at civilians. When the first bullet was shot, it went somewhere else; nobody knew where. But when the second bullet was fired, I didn’t realize that it was me this time,” he said in an online interview.
In a matter of seconds, the protest that Shantanu had joined with confidence became a moment of survival.
He regained consciousness about a minute later, after being taken to a nearby clinic where his wound was bandaged. He was then placed on a stretcher and taken to Birat Teaching Hospital. Until then, he remembers, “I had no hearing, no vision, nothing. Perhaps no sensory cells were functioning properly at that time.”
Shantanu during the treatment in Biratnagar. Image via Shantanu. Used with permission.
His first instinct was to run. That instinct may have saved him from further injury. The bullet entered through the left side of his jaw, fractured the bone around his teeth, and damaged the soft tissue inside his mouth before traveling towards his chest.
What followed was not just emergency treatment, but the beginning of a long recovery. He initially underwent a tracheostomy and was kept on a tube to help him breathe. This was later followed by grafting as part of his treatment.
For many, an injury may eventually become nothing more than a physical mark. For Shantanu, however, the scar still carries the memory of what happened that day. Even after ten months, it can bring back the trauma. Some days, it triggers regret and painful memories; on others, he learns to make adjustments and live with it. Because ultimately, life goes on.
But the consequences of that day do not remain only on his skin. The injury has affected his physical movements, particularly while eating and sleeping, and its effects become even more noticeable when he works in the farm fields. His body has undergone two surgeries, although neither was considered major.
Shantanu (standing in front of the PM office in Singhadurbar, Kathmandu. Image by Shantanu. Used with permission.
The injury has also brought a financial burden to his family. Medicines prescribed by his surgeons are not always readily available and are expensive. Fortunately, much of his medical treatment has been covered by the Government of Nepal.
Not every person who took to the streets was left with bruises on their body, while many have been marked with fear and trauma.
Riya's story
Riya (name changed), a police constable, also has a similar story. In an in-person interview with the author, she shared that she was on duty in Baneshwor, Kathmandu, on September 8, 2025, with some of her colleagues and friends. “The street was peaceful for the first half an hour, but suddenly it turned violent.
Some of my friends were taken away by police, while I was struck by stones, severely bruising my left foot. I was taken to a nearby hospital, and my wound was bandaged,” she said.
Riya getting treatment in a clinic. Image by Riya. Used with permission.
But the fear continued after she left the hospital. “It was the scariest moment. Even after I returned home, that feeling did not easily go away,” she recalled.
On September 8th alone, 19 people died during the protests, with hundreds more injured. But their deaths didn’t end the conversations they stood for. Abhijeet Adhikari, a lawyer and political activist, reflects on that day. Speaking to Global Voices over the phone, he said, “No principle of proportionality was followed,” fueling the public’s demand for accountability.
Justice and accountability
After the protests led to the installation of an interim government, numerous investigations have sought to determine responsibility and prosecution procedures. A judicial inquiry commission led by Gauri Bahadur Karki recommended the arrest of the leaders involved, including then-Prime Minister, former prime minister (K.P.) Sharma Oli, Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak, and others.
However, a separate review panel in July 2026 found that the available evidence was not sufficient to hold them under criminal liability charges. Since then, even after a year, the path towards prosecution has become politically contested, and accountability still remains uncertain.
Yet amidst all of these uncertainties, marking the anniversary, Liza, Shantanu, and Riya were shared their thoughts on the impacts of protest and how the subsequent violence continues to affect them.
For Liza, those days remain intertwined with regret and the consequences of a decision she wishes she could undo. “Maybe, if I had listened to my parents that day, this wouldn’t have happened to me,” she said.
For Riya, she chose not to remain trapped in the past. “Whatever happened, happened. It’s in the past,” she said. Yet, she remains uncertain about the direction in which the country is heading.
While Shantanu grapples with a facial scar, he refuses to allow it to become his future. While he is slowly picking himself up as a recent high school graduate and is busy preparing to pursue an engineering degree. When you look at him, his smile says it all.
Perhaps that’s the beauty of every survivor like him.