What began with protesters offering flowers to police ended in pools of blood. On September 8, thousands of young Nepalis—self-organised through Reddit and Discord—took to the streets of Kathmandu to protest against corruption. They called themselves Gen Z, and they had pledged to march peacefully, carrying poems, placards, and flags.

By 9 am, Maitighar was filled with students in school uniforms, college-goers with books still in hand, and young professionals waving banners that read “We need clean leaders” and “They took our platforms, we took to the streets.” Their leaders urged restraint: no vandalism, no arson, no violence.

By mid-morning, the rally swelled towards New Baneshwar. Songs of ‘Rato ra chandra surya’ and ‘Sayaun thunga phoolka hami’ echoed across the streets. Placards mocked politicians and their children’s lavish lifestyles: “Nepokids in cars, youths in the Gulf countries.” Others bore blunt demands: “Stop looting the nation.”

When protesters tore down posters of then prime minister KP Sharma Oli near Bijuli Bazaar, emotions ran high. But youth leaders pleaded for calm.

At Everest Hotel, police set up barricades and warned against entering the restricted zone. Their microphones crackled, inaudible above the chants. The crowd pressed forward.

By noon, thousands occupied the traffic island at Baneshwar. They draped banners across the overhead bridge—“Wake up against corruption”—and gathered outside Parliament building, sitting cross-legged on the tarmac. Strikingly, police presence outside was minimal.

At 12:30 pm, the district administration imposed a curfew. Few in the crowd heard the order. Tear gas canisters began to fall, choking the square. Anger rose as some youths climbed Parliament’s walls to plant Nepal’s flag.

Then, just before 1 pm, the gunfire started. From inside Parliament, the Special Task Force fired INSAS and SLR rifles into the crowd. Protesters fell where they stood. Friends carried the wounded on motorbikes and makeshift stretchers to Civil Hospital, which soon overflowed with casualties. Beds ran out. Doctors treated the injured on the floor, in corridors, even outside.

By 2:30 pm, the roads around New Baneshwar were littered with bullet casings. Some youths bared their chests, daring police to shoot. Others shielded themselves behind barricades. One protester, draped in the national flag, collapsed dead on the street.

Ambulances could not keep pace. Smoke curled above the Parliament area. Young voices turned from chants to screams. Still, the firing continued.

By evening, the police had pushed the crowd back to Maitighar with tear gas. The protest grounds lay deserted, save for bloodstains, shattered placards, and abandoned shoes.

That night, the death toll stood at 19. Videos of police firing into unarmed crowds spread like wildfire on social media, fuelling even greater outrage. The following day, parents marched alongside their children. Within days, the death toll crossed 70.

-Based on the news 'Tyo din...' published in The Kantipur Daily on September 22.