Kathmandu: Aakriti Ghimire used to simplify politics and policies for the youth in Nepal. Now, she’s rewriting them. Aakriti is leading a team that is drafting agreements, meeting the interim prime minister and ensuring that the youth have equal stakes in a new Nepal in the aftermath of the Gen Z protests that many labelled the ‘first digitally-led protests’.
“We didn’t come to the streets to claim power,” the 26-year-old tells ThePrint. “We came because we wanted competent leadership; we wanted people with integrity and empathy. That’s something we’ve never seen in Nepal.”
On 8 September, tens of thousands of young Nepalese citizens took to the streets of Kathmandu. The protest began with music and ended with water cannons and gunshots.
In the process, frustration over systemic corruption, nepotism, and inequality, compounded by a government proposal to ban social media erupted into a nationwide uprising that shook Nepal’s political foundations.
There is a deep, growing dissatisfaction, not just with the government, but with the political figures they’ve grown up seeing, according to Aakriti.
“The same faces have remained in power for decades, and in all that time, there has been a glaring absence of people-centric policies. Time and again, the public has taken to the streets in protest, but their demands are rarely acknowledged, let alone addressed.
We’ve never seen real empathy extended by the government toward its people in the policymaking process,” she says.
She explains how while this movement may appear to have been sparked by global unrest, it is also fueled by long-standing structural inequalities that have shaped the lives of millions. Access to quality education is still a privilege, she says. Those who can afford it often leave the country for higher studies, while others—lacking opportunities and financial means—are forced to migrate to the Gulf or elsewhere for low-paying, precarious jobs.
“When there’s no longer any hope in the current leadership, and when trust in the existing structures has fully eroded, that’s when people rise. That’s why we came to the streets. And I have to say, I’ve never seen so many young people mobilise at once. What we witnessed on 8th September was overwhelming. The sheer number of people, the energy, it was incredible,” she adds.
From civic education to action
Aakriti’s journey into activism didn’t start on the streets: it started on social media. A legal researcher by training, she launched ‘How To Desh Bikas’, an Instagram page that focuses on simplifying legal and governance policies in January as a platform to translate complex policy issues into accessible language for young Nepalis.
“I knew if I hadn’t done the jobs I’ve done, I wouldn’t have understood the language of the law or the language of politics. I still don’t fully, I’m still learning,” she says. “That’s what made me start this page. I realised, if I’m confused, so are millions of others.”
Her stint as chief of staff to a Member of Parliament and later personal undersecretary to the minister of education, science and technology saw her overseeing policy development, legislative drafts, parliamentary speeches among others.
Aakriti’s team is made up entirely of women. “I like to say I’m a bit of a coward,” she laughs, “but my women, they’re just so strong and feisty.”
The collective is not only female-led but intentionally inclusive, including queer voices, Madhesi representation, and people from varied social and ethnic backgrounds. “As inclusive as we could be. And where our own backgrounds don’t reach, we try to bring in other voices.”
After the protests on 8 September, it became clear to Aakriti and her team that the movement had outgrown its original demands like investigations into corruption.
“Honestly, I thought this would just be the first of many peaceful, creative protests. I even had an idea for a symbolic action during Dashain (Dussehra)—why not write messages of dissent on kites and fly them as a form of protest? That was the mindset many of us had,” she recalls.
But on the ground, the protests that began peacefully spiralled out of control in Kathmandu. At least 72 people were killed on the two days of protests that also left at least 1,700 others injured.
“By the end of the day, we knew this wasn’t going to stop here. The demands had to be stronger. People weren’t just asking for accountability anymore, they were calling for the government to go.”
That’s when the work began in earnest. Aakriti and her team started researching what political transitions could realistically look like: What would it mean to dissolve a government? Could an interim one be formed? What models had countries like Indonesia or Bangladesh followed? What struck her the most is the nature of the movement itself. “This is a leaderless movement,” she says. “And that’s the most beautiful part of it.”
Unlike previous mass mobilisations that revolved around charismatic, often male leaders, this wave was different. “This time, people didn’t wait for a face to follow. They saw the rot in the system and came out on their own.”
What leadership youth want
Aakriti’s team took on the role of the movement’s research and documentation arm. It began drafting what they now call a ‘people’s agreement’—a proposed framework for how the interim government should function and how youth voices can be embedded in Nepal’s political future.
“We looked into interim governments around the world. We studied Bangladesh. We studied Indonesia. We read our own peace accord from 2006. We had to,” she says. “Because suddenly we were being told, ‘Oh, you need a negotiator. You need leaders.’ And we had no idea how to do that.”
Critics questioned the lack of leadership of the Gen Z movement. But Aakriti flips that challenge back. “Can the older generation point to one leader among themselves who has truly earned universal trust? We haven’t seen good leadership. We’ve never had a real example of someone with integrity and empathy. So, how are we supposed to know what to model?”
She believes the scepticism toward traditional leadership is understandable and even healthy. “Our generation has been systematically excluded from political conversations. We’ve been kept outside the rooms where decisions are made, even though we are the ones who will live with the consequences.”
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A youth-led roadmap
‘How To Desh Bikas’ created what it calls a ‘common grounds’ document—collating the various demands from different protest groups, mapping overlaps, and drafting a unified proposal. They’ve submitted its versions to interim prime minister Sushila Karki and other legal experts for review.
They’ve also drafted a roadmap for an interim government, complete with leadership rubrics and eligibility criteria. One of the proposals suggests a ‘Youth Advisory Council’, which will be inclusive of young people from diverse caste, ethnic, and regional backgrounds, to advise the interim government.
“This Council shouldn’t be tokenistic,” Aakriti adds. “It should be empowered. And we’re not just calling for it, we’re designing a process for how to fairly select its members.”
Her team also proposed financial transparency laws for political parties, mandatory re-registration of parties post-transition, and public disclosures of leaders’ assets before the next elections. “If the same corrupt parties run again, what’s the point? We need a fair playground. And for that, the game needs new rules.”
A shift & a hope
Aakriti sees this moment not just as a political shift, but a cultural one, especially around how leadership is defined in Nepal. “The choice of someone like Sushila Karki as a guiding figure was very deliberate,” she says. “We’re done with loud, rowdy, performative leadership. We want people who will tell us the truth. No sugarcoating. No diplomatic fluff. Just clarity, empathy, and humility.”
To that end, the group developed a leadership rubric: a tool to assess potential leaders on qualities like transparency, emotional intelligence, and ability to work within a team. It’s being proposed not only for national roles but for local leadership selection too.
“We don’t want narcissists. We want collaborators,” she adds. “Someone who can say, ‘I don’t know this, but I will ask for help.’ That’s leadership.”
Though an interim government is in place, Aakriti is aware of the challenges: elections within six months, and without structural reforms, the fear remains that traditional parties may return to power. For her team, the next crucial step is securing a formal record of the movement’s demands—a public declaration or agreement that lays out the foundation of a new social contract between the state and its citizens.
“If we don’t have that document, what was the point of everything? Of the lives we lost? Of burning the top of the government to ashes?”
That document, she hopes, will shape not just how the current transitional period unfolds, but how Nepal’s democracy evolves for the next generation. “Corruption is not just a leadership problem. It’s a cultural problem,” she says.
Adding, “It’s on all of us, as voters, as citizens, to change that. Not just in protest, but in the ballot box. If we’re all angry about the leadership, then show it when it counts. Show it at the ballot box please.”
(Edited by Tony Rai)
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