Dear Gen Z,
Back in May 2011, many of us in Kathmandu, too, stood at Maitighar with a group of young people. We were inspired by the Arab Spring then and by a simple Facebook page that told us: Come o,n Youth, Stand Up. That call was enough for us to gather and believe that our voices mattered. We demanded a constitution on time. The media called it a “Facebook revolution.” Critics labelled it as elitist, superficial, and disconnected from the so-called “real people.” Still, we came out.
Fourteen years down the line, you are back in the same streets of Kathmandu. Different faces, new slogans, new mediums of expression, but the spirit is the same. The refusal to stay silent when politics has turned its back on the people. The refusal to accept excuses when leaders fail to deliver.
In 2011, bloggers were threatened, and institutions like the Press Council tried to silence voices that challenged the status quo. At the same time, political leaders continued to fail to draft a constitution, consistently missing set deadlines and turning our hopes into jokes. Today, I see you facing similar scrutiny. When you reclaim public space, when you disrupt the comfort of those in power, you too are being labelled, questioned, and sometimes mocked. Well, you will also be labelled as Mandale, Rajawadi, kata bata parichalit or whatnot.
But here is what critics missed then and risk missing now: protests are not always about numbers, or about immediate results or changes. Protests are signals. They are markers that a generation is learning how to demand and how to raise its voice. Everyone wants to dream better. Even if change does not come instantly, each protest reshapes the political dynamics of a society.
Every past generation (who says they have made sacrifices) finds a way to dismiss its youth uprisings. In our time, they called us a “Facebook revolution.” Some said we were doing “cosmetic activism.” Others branded us as elitists. Yet, every protest leaves some mark. The very foundation of today’s alternative politics was founded in 2011, where leaders were born and parties were formed.
Today’s slogans will shape tomorrow’s development debates. What seems surficial today can break the silence.
Your protest may look different; memes, slogans, TikToks, viral videos, but its essence is important. Social media is not a weakness; it is your speaker. Just as a blog and a Facebook page were enough to inspire us in 2011, your memes and digital calls are enough to ignite you now. Every generation uses the tools it has; what matters most is how you are using it.
In 2011, we demanded a constitution. In 2025, you demand accountability. We asked leaders to write the rules. You are asking them to live by those set rules. The torch passes, but the street remains open to those who dare to stand in it.
Do not be discouraged when they call you few, or when they say your demands are unrealistic.
Dear Gen Z protestors in Kathmandu, keep showing up. Keep standing up. Keep speaking up. The story of a protest may end with crowd size or headlines, but remember, it will begin with determination. It continues with the memory of those who came before and the hope of those who will come after.
Today, you are not only demanding accountability from leaders, but you are also writing the next chapter of Nepal’s democratic culture. History may not remember the hashtags, but it will remember the courage you are showing to prove to us wrong that Gen Z are behind screens only.
With solidarity and hope,
Millennials
