We witnessed history in Nepal earlier this month and investigative journalism helped make it happen.

Gen Z fury at the wealth and privilege displayed by the sons and daughters of our ruling elite sparked a rebellion that overturned our government.

Videos went viral showing the lavish lifestyles of children of politicians, including former prime ministers. These so-called Politically Exposed Persons were seen holidaying abroad, studying in elite Western universities and flaunting wealth online.

For young Nepalis struggling with unemployment and poor public services, the contrast was stark. The videos drew sharp criticism that politicians’ children were misusing taxpayers’ money.

So much for “corruption fatigue” – the idea that people switch off when reading or watching stories about corruption.

When the government banned 26 social media platforms, the anger spilled onto street protests. At least 73 people died and more than 1,000 were injured across the country.

Violence enveloped mainstream and state-run media organisations. Four journalists were injured in clashes.

Revolving door

During the last ten years, the government in Nepal has become a “revolving door” of elderly men taking turns to hold power. Refusing to hand the baton to younger politicians, each election cycle became more expensive, fuelled by unaccounted spending.

Vote buying was an open secret, campaign financing remained opaque and the cost of contesting elections locked out marginalised and less connected candidates.

The pattern entrenched a culture where power was concentrated in the hands of a few, who used state institutions for political manoeuvering and enrichment.

Inevitably, we have endured repeated corruption scandals as a handful of technocrats were repeatedly appointed to top government positions.

• The fake Bhutanese refugee scam exposed how senior politicians orchestrated a racket to traffic Nepali citizens to the US under false pretenses.
• The Baluwatar land grab showed how land allocated for public offices, including the prime minister’s residence, was transferred to private hands.
• A 2017 procurement deal for a $216 million jet raised questions of inflated costs and kickbacks.
• Reports of irregularities at Nepal Oil Corporation and other state-run entities reminded citizens that corruption was embedded in the government.

Investigative journalism played a key role exposing these scandals. Nonprofit watchdogs such as Center for Investigative Journalism–Nepal (CIJ) trained journalists and partnered with legacy media to publish investigations over the past 25 years, often in the face of political pressure.

• NepaLeaks (2019) exposed offshore accounts linked to Nepali business elites, tying local corruption and enrichment to global financial secrecy.
• FinCEN Files (2020) revealed suspicious financial transactions involving Nepali companies flagged by U.S. regulators.
• Later cross-border investigations by Finance Uncovered (FU) and CIJ raised further questions about local investors making millions through opaque share deals.

These stories demand technical skills. For Nepali reporters accustomed to reporting politics or the "success stories” of business people, tracing money across borders, reading corporate accounts and parsing court documents was rare.

But organisations such as FU, CIJ Nepal and others which trained Nepalese journalists including both of us (Deepak attended FU training virtually during Covid pandemic while Rudra received in person training in the UK in 2019 ), prompted collaborations with us that led to stories on cross-border money trails.

Humanising complexity

In Nepal, as in many countries, journalists have struggled to humanise complex, financial stories that tend to be full of numbers, legal jargon and complex chains of offshore ownership.

Most investigative journalists in Nepal have been limited to text-based reporting and often failed to tell visual stories that could resonate with wider audiences.

Luckily, content creators stepped into this gap, producing YouTube explainers and TikTok videos that unpacked corruption cases in simple, accessible terms. Their clips, widely shared across platforms, exposed scams, abuses of power, and collusion between politicians and business elites. The Gen Z audience could see clearly why jobs were scarce, why public services were failing, and how entrenched corruption at the top had held the country back for three decades.

The social media ban therefore was the straw that broke the camel’s back. In a country led by an old and outdated generation, in a natural disaster-prone and largely dysfunctional state, the social media platforms were the true home for Gen Z, where they expressed their outrage and creativity in viral memes and angry reels.

But by suppressing those platforms, the government inflamed the very discontent it feared. The sense among ordinary Nepalis was clear: nothing would change if we don’t take on the political system itself.

Though the conflagration has devastated the country, it has raised the possibility of a new dawn in Nepal. One which we intend to hold to account just as we have always done.