Governance is supposed to serve the people. It should reflect their aspirations, provide stability, and improve their quality of life. But when leadership degenerates into self-enrichment, power hoarding, and disregard for public welfare, it ceases to be governance at all, and it becomes a burden. This is what Nepal is experiencing today: anti-people governance that has pushed citizens into open outrage.
The protests filling Nepal’s streets are more than a domestic upheaval; they are a lesson for regions far beyond Asia. For Africa in particular, the warnings are loud and clear: bad governance always leads to instability, and the patience of the people has limits.
For the sake of clarity, it is germane to opine at this juncture that Nepal’s long and turbulent road to democracy has added fuel to the ongoing uprising. To fully grasp today’s crisis in Nepal, one must revisit its political past by saying that for centuries that Nepal was a monarchy, with kings exercising near-absolute power. The people had little voice, and the state was run more for the crown than for citizens. This began to shift in 1990 with the People’s Movement, which forced the monarchy to adopt a constitutional order and share power with elected representatives.
Yet democracy remained fragile. By the mid-1990s, widespread disillusionment and inequality sparked a Maoist insurgency, a decade-long civil war that claimed over 13,000 lives. The rebels promised to fight corruption, abolish feudal structures, and empower the poor. Although violent, the conflict underscored deep-rooted frustrations with governance that ignored ordinary people.
The war ended in 2006 with a peace agreement, and two years later, the monarchy was formally abolished. In 2008, Nepal was declared a federal democratic republic. Citizens believed that at last, their struggles would yield a system anchored in justice, accountability, and inclusion.
But years later, the promise has been squandered. Federalism, intended to bring government closer to the people, has too often been hijacked by political elites for power-sharing and patronage. Corruption remains endemic. Economic inequality is still glaring. And ordinary Nepalese now see democracy as yet another arena where politicians enrich themselves while neglecting the masses.
This betrayal of hard-won democratic gains explains the intensity of today’s outrage. For citizens who sacrificed for democracy, to be confronted with the same old arrogance under a new flag is intolerable.
In fact, Nepal’s current crisis reveals a government that has grown estranged from its citizens. Inflation bites harder every day. Jobs are scarce. Public healthcare and education are woefully inadequate. Families who once hoped democracy would bring dignity now see themselves trapped in despair.
Instead of addressing these urgent realities, the government remains fixated on political maneuvering and taxation policies that burden the poor. Fuel price hikes and arbitrary levies feel punitive, not reformative.
When leaders treat their citizens as subjects to be managed rather than stakeholders to be served, outrage becomes inevitable. In Nepal, the people have reached a breaking point.
The protests sweeping Nepal are the culmination of years of frustration. They are not about opposition politics or isolated grievances; they are a collective cry for survival.
The youth, in particular, have taken center stage. For a generation that should be focused on building careers and families, unemployment and corruption have made despair a daily reality. Their outrage is both a rejection of failed governance and a demand for a future worth living in.
Yet instead of listening, the state has deployed repression: tear gas, arrests, and intimidation. This only deepens the cycle of anger. History is clear, when governments mistake brute force for governance, they merely delay their downfall.
At this juncture, it is expedient to opine that there are warnings embedded in Nepal’s crisis.  In fact, Nepal’s governance failures carry powerful warnings that African leaders would be reckless to ignore.
One of the warnings, which is invariably a lesson to be learned is that legitimacy must be earned in governance. This is as a government cannot survive on propaganda and coercion. When citizens withdraw their consent, legitimacy crumbles, no matter how fortified the ruling elite appear.
Secondly, the recognition of the fact that economic justice is a political necessity should not be underplayed. This is as poverty and inequality are not just social issues; they are political powder kegs. Therefore, leaders who ignore them are laying the groundwork for future uprisings.
Again, the realization of the fact that the youth are the pulse of the nation should also not be downplayed. The reason for the forgoing cautionary view cannot be pooh-poohed by mere wave of the hands as the youths of today, admirably known as Gen Zs, are politically aware, digitally connected, and increasingly impatient. Aptly put, they cannot be sidelined. Their energy can build nations, but if ignored, it can also topple governments.
It collective power of the youth is indomitable, particularly as guns and riot squads cannot silence hunger or hopelessness. In fact, the fact that true stability rests on reforms that meet citizens’ needs cannot be ignored.
Given the dangers that are inherent in neglecting the youths, it is germane to opine at this juncture that leaders are caretakers of national trust. When the responsibility for their collective welfare is shirked by the government, they inevitably provoke rebellion.
At this juncture, it is expedient to ask, “Why should Africa pay attention to the collective welfare of the youth? The answer to the foregoing question cannot be farfetched as the echoes between Nepal’s story and the realities of Africa are unmistakable. Across the continent, citizens grapple with governance that prioritizes elite comfort over public welfare, policies that deepen poverty, and leadership that clings to power while neglecting accountability.
Given the backdrop of the foregoing view, it is not out of place to opine that Nepal’s case is a flashing red light: no matter how long leaders think they can suppress discontent, the people eventually rise. The conditions, youth unemployment, corruption, disillusionment, are already present across Africa. It is only a matter of time before outrage boils over if leaders fail to change course.
Therefore, it is expedient to in this context urge African leaders to rethink leadership. This is as the lesson from Nepal is clear: governance that ignores the people is unsustainable. African leaders must urgently rethink how they govern. This means investing in jobs, education, and healthcare. It means rejecting corruption and embracing transparency. It means listening to citizens before protests force the conversation.
The future belongs to societies that put people at the center of governance. Anything less is an invitation to turmoil.
In fact, Nepal’s crisis is not just another episode of political dysfunction, it is a parable. It shows what happens when governments betray their citizens, when promises of democracy are broken, and when leaders choose arrogance over empathy.
For Africa, the warning could not be louder. Anti-people governance may endure for a time, but it always collapses under the weight of popular outrage. Leaders who confuse power with ownership must look to Nepal and remember: the people’s patience is finite, and when it runs out, no wall of privilege can withstand the tide of anger.
The warning has been sounded. Whether Africa heeds it will determine whether it learns through foresight, or through the bitter upheavals that now engulf Nepal.
