In Kathmandu, the stark reality of a protest gone tragically wrong can be found on a hospital whiteboard. The ages of the injured read like a haunting list: 18, 22, 20, 18, 23. These are the young lives paying a heavy price after police opened fire on the crowds during an anti-corruption protest.

These brave souls, known as Generation Z, rallied against government corruption, nepotism, and even a ban on social media. Tragically, their fight has cost at least 22 lives, with many more suffering severe injuries from gunfire.

Eighteen-year-old college student Saurav, hospitalized after being shot, expressed his heartbreak and determination. 4All it took was a spark to ignite our nation's fight for justice. Our politicians are selling out Nepal for their own greed, and that’s simply unacceptable.5

The chaos erupted outside parliament when protesters clashed with police, leading to heartbreaking scenes as Saurav witnessed a friend shot fatally. 4When the bullets started flying, it felt like a nightmare. I screamed in pain as I was carried away. Killing innocent people is beyond inhumane,5 he lamented.

By Tuesday afternoon, Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli had resigned amid mounting outrage from citizens celebrating in the streets. The jubilation blended with deep-seated anger as many saw his removal as a beacon of hope against the plague of government corruption.

Nepal's political landscape has been dominated by the same trio of aging leaders for a decade, with Oli, Sher Bahadur Deuba, and Pushpa Kamal Dahal taking turns in power. The protest was ignited by a recent ban on social media, but it symbolized years of frustration toward corrupt leaders.

As late afternoon approached, Kathmandu became a sea of demonstrators. Many were on motorbikes, chanting, waving the Nepali flag, and defying a government-imposed curfew. Handwritten signs decried Oli, with one declaring, 4He killed our youth. He deserves to die.5

The focus of their wrath was the Singha Durbar government complex, which protesters breached, setting parts of it ablaze. Young men climbed the gates, brandishing the national flag as others sang the anthem. Soldiers looked on, largely inactive, while a wave of chaos unfolded.

Thick smoke filled the air as protesters carried out materials from the burning complexes — a scene reminiscent of revolution. 4This is our revolution. It marks the end of corruption, and now it’s our turn to take control,5 exclaimed Sujan Dahal, a passionate protester.

However, the aftermath leaves a bittersweet taste. Destruction shocked many Nepalis, as the movement appeared to spiral into violence with reports of arson at government buildings and other sites around the city — including a luxury hotel and a famed private school.

Despite the chaos, some stood firm against the violence, forming human chains to protect certain properties, including military installations. Sajad Ansari, a 20-year-old, asserted, 4We are not against the army; we stand against the corrupt government trying to silence us. Today, we declare victory with Oli’s resignation.5

As morning dawns again, Kathmandu lies in ruins, echoing the devastation of a missile strike. Burned buildings, charred vehicles, and clouds of smoke linger ominously in the air, while the city faces a strict lockdown.

Hope remains, however, as young voices like Saurav’s emerge from the despair. 4If the right leaders are in charge, Nepal can thrive,5 he stated confidently. 4We, the younger generation, care about our nation’s future, not just our own greed.5