KATHMANDU: March 28 was not just a day of protest—it was a test of the Nepali state’s commitment to restraint, justice, and democratic policing. As more truth emerges, one thing becomes clear: this wasn’t merely crowd control gone wrong. It may have been a systematic overreach of state force—with civilians paying the highest price. What began as a royalist demonstration at Kathmandu’s Tinkune intersection quickly spiraled into violence, police retaliation, and chaos that left two dead and over 120 injured. But behind the statistics lie real, human stories—of dreams shattered, of young lives thrown into turmoil, and of ordinary people simply trying to get home.

A judicial investigation into the violent events that unfolded during the royalist-led demonstration in Tinkune has become imperative to restore public trust. As more facts, truths, misinformation, and disinformation surrounding the incident continue to surface, the urgency for an impartial inquiry grows clearer. Despite mounting calls for accountability, the government has steadfastly denied the need for such an investigation, further deepening the uncertainty and raising doubts about its commitment to transparency. Here’s everything you need to know: A deeper look into the holistic approach to the March 28 incident:

What triggered the violent pro-monarchy protest in Kathmandu?

The protest that erupted in Kathmandu on Friday, nearly 17 years after Nepal abolished its monarchy, was a calculated show of force by royalist factions hoping to revive the monarchy and the Hindu state. Organized under the leadership of controversial figure Durga Prasai, the movement was meant to counter a same-day rally by republican parties, who gathered under the banner of the Samajbadi Morcha. While the pro-republican event at Bhrikutimandap proceeded peacefully, the royalist demonstration devolved into chaos. The situation spiraled at Tinkune, where agitators—numbering over 4,000—clashed with police while attempting to breach security barricades en route to the restricted New Baneshwor zone. Protestors lobbed stones; police responded with tear gas and batons. Within hours, arson and vandalism swept through Koteshwor and surrounding neighborhoods. By evening, two lives were lost—one protestor and one photojournalist—and the state imposed a curfew in six areas of Kathmandu. What began as a political expression quickly mutated into urban unrest, leaving the capital city stunned and scarred.

What exactly happened during the March 28 protest, and why did it turn deadly?

What began as a politically-charged demonstration by royalist supporters calling for the restoration of the monarchy quickly spiraled into one of the most violent street clashes Kathmandu has seen in recent years. The protest, led by controversial figure and former Maoist-turned-UML turned-royalist Durga Prasai, defied a government-declared prohibition zone, surging toward key power centers like the Parliament and Singha Durbar. While the organizers claimed the rally was peaceful, chaos erupted as protesters set private property ablaze and looted storefronts, prompting a forceful police response. Amid the turmoil, two people lost their lives, The violence shocked the capital, exposing deep fractures not just in politics but in public trust toward law enforcement. The events raised critical questions over crowd control protocols, protester intent, and whether excessive force overshadowed the state’s duty to protect both democratic rights and public safety.

How did the Nepal Police respond, and why is their use of force under scrutiny?

Following the protest’s deadly outcome, the Nepal Police convened a press conference on Chaitra 20 to defend their actions. DIG Dinesh Acharya repeatedly emphasized that officers had used “minimum force” to disperse the increasingly aggressive crowd. However, behind the press statements, leaked internal reports painted a more disturbing picture. While the police publicly admitted to firing 58 rounds of ammunition and deploying 764 tear gas shells, a classified 39-page document obtained by journalists revealed that 92 live rounds were fired—nearly double the official figure. Shockingly, most of these came from self-loading rifles (SLRs), typically used only in extreme cases. In all, 94% of the bullets were discharged from semi-automatic weapons like SLRs and INSAS rifles, raising alarm about whether these lethal arms should have been used at all. The contrast between official claims and internal reports has led to growing public outcry and demands for independent investigation.

Who were the injured individuals, and were all of them actively participating in the protest?

While the government insists its actions were a response to escalating violence, details from police reports suggest a far more complex picture. At least 21 individuals were injured by bullets, including seven who were hit by live rounds. Among them were students, bystanders, and even those unrelated to the protest. For instance, 22-year-old Revika Khatri and her brother Dinesh, both residents of Udayapur, were shot on an inner road in Koteshwor while allegedly returning home. Revika is currently in critical condition at Civil Hospital’s ICU, with doctors noting that a bullet pierced her right thigh, severing two arteries. Another injured civilian was Indian national Prilz Kumar, hit by rubber pellets. Such cases complicate the narrative that only rioters were targeted. With people from Jhapa, Bhojpur, Syangja, and even Indian citizens wounded, the incident appears less like a tactical operation and more like a sweeping crackdown with blurred lines between agitator and bystander.

What types of weapons and crowd-control methods were used, and were they proportionate?

The variety and volume of force used by security forces on that day have triggered serious questions about proportionality. Police admitted to using 201 rubber bullets and firing a combination of rubber and live rounds. However, the use of deadly force appeared front-loaded rather than as a last resort. According to the leaked police report, 81 of the 92 live rounds were fired from SLRs—semi-automatic weapons capable of fatal injury—while additional rounds came from INSAS rifles, Chinese pistols, and shotguns. Notably, SLRs and INSAS rifles are typically restricted for use in life-threatening combat situations, not for civilian crowd control. Tear gas use was also far heavier than reported: while the official figure stood at 764 shells, internal records suggest the Kathmandu police alone fired 864, and the Armed Police Force added another 104, bringing the total to nearly 1,000. For many observers, including former police officials, such numbers suggest not restraint, but a coordinated plan to apply overwhelming force.

What does this say about the preparedness and strategy of law enforcement in Nepal?

The incident has exposed apparent flaws not just in execution, but in the underlying strategy employed by law enforcement. A standard riot control deployment typically involves teams equipped with shields, batons, and limited non-lethal crowd dispersal tools like tear gas. However, in this case, 20 command teams were deployed to the protest site, each reportedly carrying an unusually high volume of gas shells—far exceeding the normal 10–15 units per officer. Retired officials familiar with standard operations noted that such a large-scale deployment of gas, along with the use of SLRs, could only point to premeditated escalation. The government’s defense of “minimum force” seems to contradict the logistics observed on the ground. If anything, it appears the security forces arrived ready for a confrontation, not merely to contain it. This gap between state rhetoric and operational behavior has opened a broader debate on how protests are policed in Nepal’s fragile democracy.

Was the use of force legally justified under Nepali law and international standards?

Legally, the use of lethal force is supposed to be a measure of last resort, permissible only when there’s an imminent threat to life. Nepal’s own legal framework and its commitments to international human rights conventions uphold this principle. However, the extensive deployment of semi-automatic weapons and indiscriminate firing at areas not designated as conflict hotspots may have breached these norms. The case of Revika Khatri, for example—shot from behind while allegedly en route to her home—raises serious concerns about whether basic standards were met. Moreover, many of the injured were struck in non-combatant zones, further clouding the justification for force. The lack of transparency—such as the failure to distinguish between rubber bullets, live rounds, and warning shots in official briefings—only worsens public mistrust. Legal experts and rights watchdogs are now calling for an independent probe, arguing that the incident may represent a breach of both domestic accountability mechanisms and global human rights standards.

Who were the key figures behind the protest and what are their roles?

The face of this chaotic protest was Durga Prasai, a former Maoist who turned into UML and again reinvented himself as a royalist campaigner. Known for his coarse rhetoric and fiery populism, Prasai has long straddled ideological lines—from Maoist insurgency to CPN-UML to monarchism. His sudden prominence in the royalist cause, bolstered by a recent meeting with former King Gyanendra Shah, has ruffled feathers even within pro-monarchy factions like the Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) and RPP-Nepal. Prasai is seen by many as having hijacked their agenda. Meanwhile, 86-year-old Nabaraj Subedi, a veteran of the former Panchayat era, was appointed coordinator of the protest campaign, although his selection led to further rifts. On the day of the rally, Prasai attempted to force his vehicle past police lines—a symbolic and literal overreach that escalated tensions. When violence broke out, he vanished from the scene. The government has since issued a manhunt for him, casting him not as a visionary, but as a fugitive whose mismanagement incited tragedy.

What were the consequences of the protest for public safety and infrastructure?

The toll of the protest was devastating. At least two people lost their lives: 29-year-old Sabin Maharjan succumbed to injuries sustained during a police clash, while Suresh Rajak, a video journalist for Avenues TV, died a horrifying death—charred in a fire believed to have been set by protesters. CCTV footage suggests two masked individuals descended from the same building moments before flames engulfed it. In addition to these tragic fatalities, 110 people were injured—ranging from protestors to police officers and Armed Police Force personnel. A female officer was severely beaten, and multiple confrontations led to the theft of police equipment, including a tear gas gun. The property damage was staggering: 15 vehicles—nine of them government-owned—were destroyed, 14 locations set ablaze, and at least nine institutions and political party offices were vandalized. The Bhatbhateni Superstore in Koteshwor was ransacked. Amid the turmoil, the Kathmandu district office imposed a strict curfew, desperate to bring the capital back from the brink.

What did Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak say about the Tinkune incident?

Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak described the incident at Tinkune as a deliberate, criminal act orchestrated by royalist groups with the sole intention of attacking Nepal’s constitutional order. Speaking at a meeting of the State Affairs and Good Governance Committee of the House of Representatives, Minister Lekhak said that this was not a political or ideological protest but a violent attempt to spread anarchy and provoke constitutional crisis. According to him, the royalist group aimed to tear down the constitution, stir chaos, and generate public resentment toward the democratic system.

Rejecting the idea of forming a separate investigation committee, Lekhak emphasized that the government is conducting a fact-based, impartial investigation, and each individual’s actions during the incident are being scrutinized for possible legal action. He strongly stated that no one will be prosecuted without evidence, but anyone found involved in violent or criminal activities will be held accountable. The incident, according to him, does not fall under the purview of a political movement and hence does not warrant a judicial commission. “Let’s not waste time forming committees that only distract from actual justice,” he said.

Minister Lekhak also expressed grave concern over attempts to undermine democratic institutions, highlighting that attacks on the media during the unrest show how press freedom becomes an early target for those seeking to dismantle democracy. He reiterated the government’s commitment to protecting journalists and media houses, ensuring their safety and operational freedom.

Addressing the actions of protest leader Durga Prasai, Lekhak revealed that Prasai had taken a vehicle (registration number Ba. Pra. 01–028 Cha 0201) and intentionally drove it toward police barricades, using obscene language and inciting the crowd to act violently. The situation escalated after this, with protesters attacking security forces with stones, glass bottles, and other objects. Though the protest had been approved by local authorities as a peaceful demonstration, Lekhak asserted that it was deliberately turned violent by its organizers.

Furthermore, Lekhak confirmed that security forces made every effort to control the fire at the site but were obstructed by an aggressive mob that even attacked fire engines and emergency response vehicles. As a result, authorities were delayed in extinguishing the blaze. He also stated that 148 individuals involved in the incident were taken into custody, including lawmaker Dhawal Shamsher Rana. Among them, 66 are under investigation with court approval, and 89 others have been released into the custody of their families and relatives.

The Home Minister warned against any attempts to hijack the sovereignty vested in the people, saying that Nepal’s republican system was established precisely to prevent such power from being concentrated in the hands of any single individual, such as a monarch. “This was not just a protest. It was a coordinated attempt to challenge the democratic gains of the people, to burn the house down instead of cleaning it,” he said, using a metaphor to criticize the violent approach. He added that if people are dissatisfied with the government, there are democratic processes—such as elections and parliamentary motions—to change it.

Lastly, Minister Lekhak assured that the government would not allow such acts of destruction and lawlessness to repeat. The government remains committed to upholding law and order, protecting the sovereignty of the people, and ensuring that every citizen enjoys democratic rights in a safe and secure environment.

 What did the Inspector General of Nepal Police Say about the incident?

Nepal Police Inspector General (IGP) Deepak Thapa explained that royalist protest in Tinkune, initially claimed to be peaceful, turned chaotic and violent, disrupting the planned security strategy and creating a difficult law enforcement situation. Speaking before the State Affairs and Good Governance Committee of the House of Representatives, IGP Thapa said that the police had focused their resources on securing the officially designated protest route after organizers had promised a peaceful rally. More than 39 different groups participated, and separate processions emerged from various locations.

Despite prior warnings and coordination with the Central Security Committee, a sudden outbreak of violence—including rioting, arson, and vandalism—forced police to shift tactics under intense pressure and limited resources. According to Thapa, 55 Nepal Police officers and 25 Armed Police Force personnel were injured. Protesters attacked with sticks, stones, and even vehicles. One vehicle, which Thapa described as behaving like a “bullet car,” charged through security barricades with the apparent intent to cause fatal harm to officers—an unprecedented event in his 29 years of service.

Protesters targeted security personnel, attempted to storm critical state institutions like Parliament, Singha Durbar, and even the airport, forcing police to use controlled force. There were also efforts to set fire to the Narcotics Control Bureau and other police assets, and multiple vehicles were torched. Tragically, one protester, Sabin Maharjan, died after police opened fire during an attack outside the designated protest zone.

A total of 161 individuals were arrested that day, including 12 women. Ninety-four were later released on bail. Police are investigating charges ranging from treason to criminal unrest. So far, 20 individuals are under extended remand in a sedition case, while 58 are being prosecuted for violent acts. The chief planner of the protest, Durga Prasai, reportedly fled the scene and has been charged; the police are actively searching for him. Investigations reveal that while the vehicle used by Prasai was seized in Itahari and the driver arrested, Prasai himself never reached the destination.

Inspector General Thapa said that tear gas was not fired from the rooftop of the house in Tinkune that was later set on fire by royalist demonstrators. IGP Thapa rejected this claim, stating, “Tear gas is fired upward from the ground level, not downward from rooftops. No tear gas was fired from the top of that house, nor was any fired from the stage area.” He emphasized that the police had not engaged in such tactics from elevated positions and dismissed allegations linking the house fire to police action from its roof.

Additionally, IGP Thapa informed that a fact-based investigation is currently underway into the incident. Authorities are closely examining the involvement of each individual based on evidence and the nature of their activities. He assured that the inquiry is proceeding with a focus on factual findings and proper documentation of any criminal behavior. Furthermore, IGP Thapa mentioned that the police force is actively working to locate Durga Prasai, who is believed to be connected to the ongoing developments surrounding the protest. The police are mobilized to take appropriate action in accordance with the law.

What is the Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP)’s position regarding the March 28 Tinkune incident and how has it responded?

The Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) has voiced strong opposition to the government’s handling of the March 28 Tinkune incident and has called for the resignation of Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak. Nepal’s pro-monarchy RPP has accusing the government of provoking violence during a recent protest and calling for an independent investigation into the March 28 Tinkune clash.

The Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) wasted no time in escalating tensions, issuing a 24-hour ultimatum to the government for the immediate release of Senior Vice President Rabindra Mishra and General Secretary Dr. Dhawal Shamsher Rana. Party Chairman Rajendra Lingden made it clear: failure to comply would trigger nationwide protests. In a swift move, RPP leaders handed over a memorandum to the government and vowed to continue their street protests, signaling their intent to ramp up the pressure with additional rallies and demonstrations in Kathmandu in the days ahead.

The party claims that the actions of state agencies provoked protesters into violence and has condemned the use of force during the demonstration. In a meeting with Acting Prime Minister Prakashman Singh, RPP leaders led by party chairman Rajendra Lingden demanded a fair and impartial investigation into the incident. They have called for the formation of an independent investigation commission headed by a former Supreme Court judge and including representatives from the National Human Rights Commission and civil society.

The RPP has also objected to the sedition charges filed against its senior leaders, including senior vice-chairman Rabindra Mishra and general secretary Dhawal Shamsher Rana, describing the charges as unjust and politically motivated. The party has demanded the immediate release of all arrested leaders and participants, and urged the government to officially declare those who lost their lives in the protest as martyrs. Additionally, RPP is pressing for the suspension of the police chief and administrative officials involved in the crackdown. Although the RPP did not officially join the March 28 protest organized by pro-monarchy figures Nabaraj Subedi and businessman Durga Prasai, several of its senior leaders, including Mishra and Rana, were actively involved in leading the demonstration. The RPP, which advocates for the reinstatement of Nepal as a Hindu Kingdom, views the government’s response as a violation of democratic principles and civil liberties.

Why did the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) fail to form a high-level investigation panel for the March 28 protest violence?

The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) has found itself in the eye of a storm after its inability to form an independent committee to investigate the Tinkune incident on March 28, 2025. What was initially seen as a potential turning point in the pursuit of justice has quickly spiraled into a crisis of credibility, leaving the public grappling with questions that remain unanswered. The NHRC had an opportunity to release an independent report that could have held all parties involved—protesters and police—accountable for any violations of human rights. A comprehensive investigation would have examined whether the actions of the protesters or the police were excessive, providing a much-needed lens into the root causes of the protest, including the ever-deepening political polarization gripping Nepal.

Instead, the NHRC has failed to deliver a fair, impartial investigation. It has not restored public trust, nor has it taken meaningful steps to ensure that justice is served. The Tinkune incident highlighted not just a violent clash but also the fractured state of Nepalese society. For this reason, only an independent body, free from the political influence that pervades Nepal’s corridors of power, could truly unravel the truth. But until such a commission is formed, the mystery surrounding the March 28 events will continue to fester, fueling division and uncertainty.

What appeared to be a hopeful move toward accountability quickly unraveled. The heart of the issue lies in the intense political polarization surrounding the incident. In an effort to ensure neutrality and professionalism, the NHRC reached out to a number of respected former high court judges, seeking their expertise to lead the investigation panel. However, despite their initial efforts, the commission has so far failed to secure a leader for the panel. The judges, citing the highly charged political climate, declined to take on what they saw as a potentially contentious responsibility.

This failure to establish a credible, independent body only exacerbates the growing doubts about the NHRC’s commitment to justice. Without the oversight of an impartial commission, the public remains left in the dark about what truly transpired at Tinkune—a situation that only deepens the existing divides within the nation. Until the NHRC takes meaningful action, the calls for an independent investigation will continue to grow louder, and the shadows of the March 28 protests will linger, unresolved.

The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) has failed to confront the government’s ongoing culture of impunity, resulting in a significant erosion of public trust. Four years ago, during the tenure of then Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, the Constitutional Council appointed the chairperson and members of the NHRC, a decision marred by widespread criticism over procedural irregularities. Rights activists and senior legal figures, including Dinesh Tripathi and Om Prakash Aryal, challenged these appointments in the Supreme Court. The case remains unresolved, underscoring the controversy surrounding the commission’s legitimacy.

A Human Rights Commission, by definition, must be constitutional, independent, and impartial—a standard the NHRC has failed to meet. Its credibility has suffered further since the Global Alliance of National Human Rights Institutions (GANHRI), based in Geneva, downgraded the NHRC’s status after it became too politicized. The commission’s officials have publicly admitted their attempts to form an independent investigation panel with retired judges, but those judges hesitated, citing the polarized political climate. Even so, it remains unclear whether the NHRC will press forward with these efforts or merely offer a symbolic gesture.

The NHRC’s inability to form the independent investigation panel has led to criticism, particularly regarding its first public statement on the incident. Based on information available by mid-afternoon on March 28, the initial report failed to capture the full scale of the violence, which continued into the evening. One NHRC official admitted that the statement could have been more comprehensive, fueling doubts about the commission’s handling of the situation.

The NHRC’s failure to assemble an independent panel highlights the complexities of investigating politically charged incidents in a deeply divided society. Amid mounting pressure from all sides, the commission remains committed to transparency. What remains uncertain, however, is whether its internal inquiry can overcome these challenges and uncover the full truth behind the events in Tinkune.

Why is an independent commission essential to ensure the credibility of the investigation into the Tinkune incident and establish the truth? Why the government fears a judicial investigation?

Nearly a week has passed since the violent confrontation between royalist demonstrators and security forces in Tinkune, Kathmandu. Despite the growing public outcry and the serious allegations surrounding the incident, Nepal’s government has flatly refused to launch an independent judicial investigation. The Home Minister’s outright dismissal of such a probe, even in the face of mounting evidence and widespread loss, raises a troubling question: What is the government trying to hide?

The state’s refusal to form an independent commission is, in itself, revealing. It signals a deep reluctance to expose institutional failures or implicate high-level actors. But in doing so, the government risks something even more damaging than political embarrassment: the erosion of public trust. A judicial inquiry wouldn’t just seek blame; it would also serve to exonerate the innocent, restore institutional credibility, and clarify the sequence of events for an anxious public. In the long run, transparency is not a threat to the state—it is its only defense against disintegration.

The March 28 clash—ostensibly between pro-monarchy protesters and state security—has become a national crisis with far-reaching implications. As more fragments of footage, conflicting eyewitness accounts, and alleged disinformation emerge, the need for a thorough and impartial judicial inquiry has become not just reasonable, but imperative. The truth has become a contested battleground, with each side projecting its version of events and dismissing the other as misinformation or worse—manipulation.

In this environment, only a judicial commission, led by a former Supreme Court judge and bolstered by civil society and human rights representatives, can credibly separate fact from fiction. Such a commission must answer fundamental questions: What triggered the violence? Was it premeditated or spontaneous? Did protesters incite the chaos, or did state forces overreact and escalate the situation?

These questions are not rhetorical. They cut to the core of our democratic credibility—and failure to answer them invites enduring division.

The first and most glaring red flag lies in the fog of conflicting narratives. Eyewitnesses, video footage, and media reports all offer differing—and often contradictory—accounts of what happened. In an era when truth itself is politicized, only a credible and neutral body can determine what truly unfolded that day. Without this, the state and its critics will continue trading blame. Social media is already overrun with competing “truths.” A vacuum of verified facts has created fertile ground for rumor, polarization, and manipulation.

The second major concern is the role of the Nepal Police. Six days after the incident, authorities finally disclosed that 21 individuals were shot, one of whom died. Why this information was withheld for so long is deeply troubling. In any democratic society, transparency from law enforcement is a minimum expectation. Instead, Nepal Police appears to have followed a pattern more familiar in autocracies—delaying facts, evading questions, and offering partial truths only under public pressure. Even when confronted with disturbing footage—such as a student, Rebika Khatri, and her cousin being shot in a residential lane—police responses have been evasive. Allegations that tear gas was launched from private rooftops further complicate the narrative. So far, not a single officer who responsible to handle the protests has been held publicly accountable. That alone is reason enough for an external, independent probe.

The third layer requiring scrutiny is businessman Durga Prasai attempted to breach barricades in a vehicle. Whether these acts directly escalated the violence must be determined through evidence, not assumptions. Police claim they only responded after protesters defied restrictions. Protesters claim the police attacked without provocation. With extensive video documentation available, a commission could systematically analyze the timeline of violence—identifying who escalated first, and when state force crossed the line.

Perhaps the most explosive allegation of all lies in the role of former King Gyanendra Shah. Seventeen years after being dethroned, Shah appears to be quietly staging a political reentry. His February 19 statement calling on citizens to “stand with us” was seen by many as a veiled call to action. The subsequent appointment of former Panchayat leader Nabaraj Subedi to lead the royalist movement, and later, the reported transfer of command to Durga Prasai just a day before the Tinkune protest, raise critical questions.

Was Shah merely symbolic, or was he orchestrating unrest behind the scenes? Did he fund or politically support the demonstrators? A credible judicial body must investigate Shah’s potential role—if any—in fueling the current instability.

Nepali society is already polarized. Without an impartial investigation, this fracture will deepen. Truth must not remain hostage to partisan agendas, government opacity, or online misinformation. What happened in Tinkune was not just a protest turned violent—it was a stress test for Nepal’s democracy. The results so far are sobering. Only an independent judicial investigation can restore what has been broken.

How Nepali mainstream media missed the facts in reporting on the royalist protests?

In the aftermath of the royalist protests on March 28, Nepali mainstream media has faced heavy criticism for overlooking critical aspects of the security flaws during the event. Despite reports of 21 injuries, including two women, and 746 rounds of tear gas fired, it wasn’t until the sixth day, when the police held a press conference, that these details came to light. The media’s failure to report on these facts has drawn severe backlash from various quarters.

The day of the protest, which was marked by clashes between royalist demonstrators and the police, saw a chaotic breakdown of security management. Police, who fired 92 rounds of “jangi fire” (military-grade fire) according to Himal Khabar, faced no serious scrutiny from mainstream journalists. Instead, the media’s attention was primarily focused on unmasking the protestors’ activities, with little coverage of the security oversight or the alleged police excesses that led to injuries.

As the protest unraveled, many outlets, including Kantipur, Annapurna, Nagarik, opted for a “blackout” of the royalist’s show of force, instead of probing the real consequences of the lack of preparedness. The media focused on sensationalizing the protesters’ criminal actions, such as their attempt to set fire at the oil depot near the airport, while leaving the security mismanagement largely unexamined.

One journalist’s eyewitness account, published under Man Bahadur Basnet’s byline, detailed how the police and armed forces employed excessive force, including firing beyond the reported 746 rounds of tear gas. Yet, much of the media, instead of investigating the larger implications of such actions, became embroiled in the stories of violence and the fallout from the protest.

Ajay Bhadra Khanal, a former editor, wrote on social media, “Nepali journalism has failed when it comes to protecting democracy. They focus on the political sideshows while ignoring the real incidents happening on the ground.” His words highlighted the crucial oversight by mainstream media outlets who neglected to report on the true scale of police misconduct during the clashes.

One of the more critical incidents was the tragic death of journalist Suresh Rajak, who was burned alive during the protest due to the chaotic security response. The media’s failure to cover the incident, coupled with the absence of direct criticism of the royalist forces’ actions, revealed a concerning bias toward political correctness over factual reporting.

Veteran journalist Sufal Kafle shared his anguish on social media, stating, “Mainstream media journalists have been burned alive in the field, have had their limbs broken, and have been traumatized by the deaths of their colleagues, but when it comes to reporting the truth, you choose to focus on trivial content.” This statement underscores the growing disconnect between ground realities and mainstream media narratives.

In the face of these flaws, some outlets have started to address the issue. Reporting on the security mismanagement and police negligence has gained traction, but much of this came too late. On March 28, the protests were portrayed as a clash between the royalist groups and the state, but the true breakdown in the law enforcement strategy—one that led to the unbridled violence—was largely ignored.

Nepali journalism grew in opposition to the Panchayat system, advocating for a multi-party democracy. However, it has often failed to hold power accountable in subsequent political regimes. The media’s longstanding critique of state authority has diminished in the era of democracy, especially under the guise of supporting national unity. With the rise of the monarchy-backed protests, the media’s role has again come under scrutiny, as it has been reluctant to confront the state’s shortcomings in handling such events.

The March 28 protest was a turning point where many expected the media to take a hard look at the unraveling security situation. Yet, mainstream outlets chose to focus on sensational elements of the protest rather than the systemic failures that allowed it to escalate into violence. While some blame the media for ignoring the facts, others argue that a deep-rooted reluctance to challenge the security establishment has always been a hurdle for Nepal’s press.

The protestors, led by the royalist factions, voiced their dissatisfaction with the republican system, yet their actions were overshadowed by a media preoccupied with sensational narratives rather than their underlying causes. With many fearing that the event could lead to larger political upheaval, the media had an opportunity to report more responsibly. However, what resulted was a selective reporting that not only distorted the facts but also neglected to hold the authorities accountable for their role in the chaos.

As the aftermath of March 28 continues to unfold, questions remain over whether Nepali journalism can rise above political affiliations and report the truth without fear or favor. With growing disillusionment in the media’s ability to serve as an impartial watchdog, the road ahead seems fraught with challenges for both the press and the democracy it is meant to protect. In the coming days, it will be crucial for Nepal’s mainstream media to confront these missteps and strive toward a more balanced and fact-driven approach to covering political unrest, without overlooking the facts that matter the most.

Why has the protest backfired on the royalist movement?

The protest, rather than galvanizing support for the monarchy, may have irreparably damaged its credibility. The royalists, already lacking grassroots structure, strategic clarity, and institutional experience, lost a rare opportunity to connect with the growing number of disillusioned citizens frustrated by federalism’s failings. Instead of offering an alternative roadmap or winning public sympathy, their aggressive conduct—peppered with arson, property destruction, and provocative defiance of police orders—painted them as reckless. Videos showing Prasai goading his followers to defy the police have only fueled the perception that the movement was less about national revival and more about personal aggrandizement. In contrast, the Samajbadi Morcha rally remained peaceful and drew five times more participants, according to police estimates. What could have been a powerful moment of political articulation became a spectacle of anarchy. Now, with Prasai in hiding and Subedi under house arrest, the campaign is in retreat—forced into a defensive posture amid a climate of public skepticism and legal crackdown.

What are the broader political implications of this incident for Nepal?

The violent upheaval in Kathmandu represents more than just a failed protest; it exposes the underlying volatility of Nepal’s political terrain. While the federal democratic republic was constitutionally cemented in 2008, the return of pro-monarchy voices—however fragmented—speaks to the disenchantment felt by many Nepalis amid chronic governance failures, economic stagnation, and weak state institutions. Yet dismantling a political system born from revolution is no small feat. It took the democratic movement three decades to bring down the Panchayat system, and even then, through strategic coalition-building and mass mobilization. The monarchy’s revivalist forces, by comparison, appear disjointed, opportunistic, and lacking in democratic discipline. The protest’s descent into violence has further alienated potential allies and given the state a legal and moral mandate to respond with force. As curfews are imposed and arrests continue, the episode may serve as a grim reminder that in politics, legitimacy is built not by noise or nostalgia—but by responsible leadership and moral clarity.

How do police continue to use excessive force without accountability? Here are some examples:

The Nepal Government has promised free treatment for all the injured, including the 13 people who underwent emergency surgeries that day. Still, families remain in shock—physically, emotionally, and financially broken. Out of 129 injured individuals, 55 were police officers, 22 armed police, and 52 were civilians. Many of the civilians, like Dinesh, Revika, Dilliprasad, and Indramaya, were not protestors at all—just citizens caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. While 41 people, including Rastriya Prajatantra Party leaders, are under investigation for organizing the protest, families like the Khatris and Luintels are pleading for answers:

How driver Sabin Maharjan was killed amid a protest he was only watching?

As chaos erupted on the streets of Kathmandu, 29-year-old Sabin Maharjan, a resident of Kirtipur -4, had simply stepped out to retrieve his vehicle from a garage in Balkhu. He had left home in Kirtipur with a promise to return soon to his family, as he had done countless times before. But this time, Sabin never came back. Instead, his wife, Bhavisha Thakuri Mallah (Maharjan), received a phone call from Tribhuvan University Teaching Hospital: her husband had been shot and killed during a protest in the busy Threekune intersection.

The news was as shocking as it was confusing. Sabin was not an activist. He was not politically involved. He had never joined a rally or demonstration. He was, by all accounts, an ordinary man with a simple routine — driving a public Sumo jeep between Hetauda and Kathmandu, supporting his wife and seven-year-old daughter, and visiting home only occasionally. His life revolved around work and family, not politics. So, how did a quiet man who went to pick up his repaired vehicle end up dead in a political protest?

The day before, Sabin had arrived in Kathmandu from Hetauda and left his vehicle at a garage in Balkhu for maintenance. On the morning of the 28th, he left around 10 AM to pick it up. He told no one he was heading anywhere else. His plan was clear. But just hours later, his lifeless body was lying in a hospital — a bullet wound in his chest.

Back home, Bhavisha was in shock. “He said he’d be back soon,” she said, holding their daughter tightly as mourners and politicians flooded their modest two-room home in Gamcha, Kirtipur. “Now people come saying they’ll help. Can they bring him back?”

Sabin’s uncle, Bikash Maharjan, who raised him after his mother died and father remarried, is equally devastated. “He never went to protests. Never talked politics. He was always working,” he said. “Now they want to label him — but he belonged to no side. He was just a common man.”

Sabin’s friends and coworkers from the Welcome Sumo Service echoed the same disbelief. “He never lingered after work. He’d always pick up the vehicle and return,” said his colleague Sagar Thapa. “This time, we just don’t know what happened.”

Even the local ward chairman admitted he barely knew Sabin — not because of distance, but because Sabin was rarely in town, rarely seen in any public event or gathering. “He lived a low-profile life. And now he’s the one shot dead. Who is responsible for this?”

As government officials, activists, and even royalist supporters who organized the protest began visiting the grieving family, Bhavisha found no comfort in the attention. “I don’t even know what the protest was about,” she said. “If it was peaceful, why did this happen?”

In the days following Sabin’s death, his family hasn’t only had to deal with grief — they are left with uncertainty about their future. Sabin was their sole provider. “Whatever happens now, he’s not coming back,” said his uncle. “All we ask is for someone to look after his daughter’s future.”

Sabin Maharjan’s death raises painful, unanswered questions: How did a peaceful man with no political ties end up in the middle of a deadly protest? Who took him there — or worse, who failed to protect him? For his family, silence from authorities is almost as heavy as the loss itself.

Sabin’s death wasn’t an accident—it was the result of a system that confuses force with control, and power with justice. His story is a painful symbol of the deep fractures in Nepal’s governance. We are calling for an independent investigation, accountability from those in command, and an end to the violence inflicted on ordinary citizens. Sabin deserved better. Nepal deserves better. Stand with us. Demand justice—because silence is complicity.

Revika Khatri wasn’t protesting — yet police shot her far from the protest zone without justification

Twenty-two-year-old Revika Khatri had nothing to do with politics that day. An accounting student and part-time employee at a food store in Narephant, Revika had stopped on the road when traffic was brought to a standstill by the protest. Scared to return to her rented room in Gwarko, she called her cousin-brother Dinesh Kumar Khatri, 24, who lived nearby in Koteshwar. “I told her to come to my room. She crossed the sky bridge in Koteshwar around 5 PM,” Dinesh said. Then, suddenly, both of them were hit.

Revika was shot in her right thigh; Dinesh in his left. The bullet ripped through them and punctured a nearby shutter. Revika collapsed on the bridge, bleeding heavily. She was rushed to the Civil Hospital, where she remains in critical care after multiple surgeries, including a complex vein transplant from her other leg.

Revika was preparing for her BBA third semester exams. Her family—who run a modest dairy in Udayapur—had already spent heavily on her education. “She wanted to work at a government bank,” her older sister Anita said, now using her own Japan-bound savings to fund Revika’s treatment. Their brother is in Japan, struggling to send money home. The family had already been financially drained after spending 700,000 rupees to treat their father’s lung condition.

In a desperate attempt to escape the chaos of a violent protest, 22-year-old Revika Khatri sought refuge in a nearby alleyway. But even that brief detour couldn’t shield her from harm. Without warning, a bullet struck her, leaving her gravely injured. Now, she fights for her life in the Intensive Care Unit at Civil Hospital, her condition critical and uncertain.

Revika Khatri and Sabin Maharjan are just two names in a growing list of innocent victims caught in the chaos of the Tinkune violence. These are individuals with no ties to the protests, yet they now lie in hospital beds, victims of a brutality they had no part in. Their stories are part of a broader, unsettling picture: ordinary lives shattered by unchecked violence, where the boundaries between perpetrator and bystander blur, and justice remains a distant hope.

The casualties of the Tinkune violence are a somber reminder that, in times of political turmoil, innocent bystanders often bear the heaviest burden. Most of those wounded in the chaos were not part of the protests. They were ordinary citizens, caught in the crossfire of a conflict they neither instigated nor understood. Yet, the government appears unwilling to conduct a thorough reality check, dismissing the need for an investigation while detaining and targeting individuals at random. The narrative being pushed by authorities seems focused on rounding up and punishing the alleged instigators, neglecting the countless lives irrevocably altered by the violence.

Among the most tragic of these stories is that of Shambhu Darzi, 30, who had just made the final preparations for his flight to Qatar, seeking a new chapter in life after five years of work in Saudi Arabia. Having returned to Nepal to care for his cancer-stricken mother, Shambhu was eager to start fresh. But as he passed through Gaurighat on his way to his sister’s home, the peaceful promise of a new beginning turned into a nightmare. Caught in the chaos of the protests, he was struck by a bullet in his elbow. “I didn’t know I was shot until I saw blood,” he recalled from his hospital bed. His dream of working abroad is now out of reach. “I spent everything for Qatar. What now? I can’t even think,” he said, his words filled with despair.

Similarly, 40-year-old Indramaya Limbu, a regular patient undergoing therapy for her back problems, found herself a victim of the violence. Walking home from her treatment in Balkumari, she felt a sharp sting in her leg. She collapsed, her thigh bleeding from a gunshot wound. “I didn’t know what hit me until I saw the blood,” she said, recounting the traumatic moment. Originally from Jhapa, Indramaya has lived in Kathmandu for eight years. Her husband works in the electricity sector, and they live a hand-to-mouth existence, caring for two daughters and a son. “We don’t know who to ask for justice,” her husband, Ganga Bahadur, said, his voice heavy with frustration and helplessness.

Then there is Dilliprasad Luintel, 27, who was simply observing the protest during his break from work at a bus ticket counter in Kathmandu. What happened next would alter the course of his life forever. As tensions rose, police opened fire, and a bullet tore through Dilliprasad’s stomach. Rushed to the Trauma Center, he underwent emergency surgery to treat severe internal bleeding and damaged intestines. His condition is now stable, but the road to recovery will be long. “He’s the one supporting our entire family,” said his younger brother, Kedar, who rushed from Bhojpur overnight after hearing the news. Dilliprasad had recently returned from Qatar and was preparing for civil service exams. “He didn’t even protest,” said his friend, Lekhnath Ghimire, who is now looking after him. “He just went to see the crowd. Now we don’t know who will pay his hospital bills.”

These are just a few of the many stories that remain untold—innocent lives forever altered by an escalation of violence that left both physical and emotional scars. As the government continues to evade its responsibility to hold those accountable, the people who bear the brunt of this conflict are left to wonder: Who will advocate for them? In their pain, they seek justice—yet it remains as elusive as the truth behind the chaos that shattered their lives.