Revolutions rarely begin with bullets; they begin with words; words that unsettle the conscience, inflame the imagination, and inspire courage. In Nepal, where Gen Z frustration had been simmering under the weight of unemployment, corruption, and political cynicism, those words came from an unlikely voice: Abiskar Raut, a 16-year-old student whose fiery speech ignited a prairie fire that would, within days, topple the Prime Minister.
Special to USAfrica magazine (Houston) and USAfricaonline.com, the first Africa-owned, US-based newspaper published on the Internet
Agbedo, Professor of Linguistics at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, and Fellow at the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Study in Amsterdam, is a contributing analyst to USAfrica.
At the 24th annual programme of his school, Raut’s speech was intended as a ceremonial welcome. Yet its content struck like thunder in a land already heavy with storm clouds. His words circulated online, resonated with thousands, and crystallized what the youth already felt: that their future was slipping away, stolen by selfish elites and suffocated by corruption.
The rest is now recent history. Protests erupted. Social media platforms were banned. Government buildings were torched. Violence spread. Within a week, the Prime Minister resigned, and an interim administration was installed with promises of fresh elections. Nepal’s Gen Z had spoken—not with ballots, but with bodies in the streets, guided first by the piercing clarity of a teenager’s words. Let us then deconstruct Raut’s speech and consider its practical implications, particularly for African Gen Zs who are navigating similar storms of disillusionment.
“ Today, I stand here before you with a dream of building a new Nepal with a fire of hope and passion burning within me_ …”
Raut begins with a vision, the language of dreams and fire. Dreams expand the horizon; fire energizes action. His opening line recalls Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” and Sankara’s “Dare to invent the future.” For African Gen Z, this is a reminder: change begins with imagination. In a continent where youth often feel cornered, reclaiming hope is a radical act.
_“…But my heart is heavy, because the dream seems to be slipping away.”_
This isn’t blind optimism; it is realism. Raut acknowledges the suffocation of potential. For Nepali youth, the dream of a dignified life was evaporating under unemployment and migration pressures. African parallels abound: millions of graduates roaming jobless streets, youth choosing perilous desert crossings over staying home, and governments more interested in silencing dissent than solving problems. Here too, dreams are slipping away.
“ _We are bounded by the chains of unemployment, seeking abroad in search of opportunities.”_
This line became a rallying cry in Kathmandu. Forced migration is not aspiration; it is exile. Nepal exports its young to Gulf States as cheap labour. Africa, too, bleeds talent – doctors, engineers, tech entrepreneurs, teachers – feeding foreign economies while home nations decay. For Gen Z Africans, this is déjà vu: the “Japa” syndrome in Nigeria, the exodus of Zimbabwean professionals, the Ghanaian brain drain. Raut’s lament is a global one.
“ _We are trapped by the selfish games of political parties; corruption has woven a web that is extinguishing the light of our futures.”_
Corruption as a web is a potent metaphor – sticky, suffocating, inescapable. Nepalese youth recognized it in their ruling class; African youth see it daily. From Nigeria’s industry-scale corruption ecosystem to South Africa’s state capture, Kenya’s debt binge to Uganda’s nepotism, corruption has extinguished light across the continent. It is the same web spun by different spiders.
_“Youth, rise! We are the torchbearers of change. If we do not raise our voices, who will? If you do not build this nation, who will?”_
This refrain became the anthem of Nepal’s protests. It is a direct challenge to passivity. Raut insists on agency. Change cannot be outsourced to the old guard. African Gen Zs heard a similar call in Kenya (2024), where they stormed Parliament over a controversial finance bill, and in Senegal, where they resisted elite manipulation. The Igbo say: Ụzụ amaghị ogene akpụ lee egbe anya n’ọdụ—“The blacksmith, who lacks expertise in forging the gong should look up to the kite’s tail for inspiration.” Youth who look outward learn how to resist.
“ _We are the fire that will burn away the darkness… We are the storm that will sweep away injustice and bring prosperity.”_
Here, the metaphors escalate. Fire purges; storms disrupt. Raut’s imagery framed the youth not as victims but as forces of nature. Within days, Kathmandu’s streets embodied that metaphor as torches lit up the night and crowds swept across the city like waves. The caution for Africa’s Gen Z is to channel fire constructively. Sri Lanka (2022) showed how leaderless rage can collapse regimes, but also how fragile transitions can be. Organized energy, not blind fury, sustains revolutions.
_“Our ancestors shed their blood to give us this nation. We cannot sell it. We cannot lose it.”_
Raut roots his appeal in ancestral sacrifice. Revolutions without memory risk futility. For Africa, where liberation struggles remain fresh in historical consciousness, this is vital. Youth must see themselves not as disconnected rebels but as heirs continuing unfinished battles.
_“Now, we must decide. Will we drown in the darkness of despair or rise as the sun of hope?”_
Here lies the binary. Drown or rise. Raut’s speech forced youth to confront their agency. Many chose to rise – and the Prime Minister’s fall was the outcome. Africa’s Gen Z faces the same fork. Will despair lead to cynicism and mass migration, or will hope fuel a collective reclamation of destiny?
_“Nepal is ours, and its future is in our hands. Jai Nepal!”_
The closing cry is ownership. Nepal belongs to its people, not its corrupt elite. The protests proved that truth. For African youth, the translation is simple: Africa is ours. Its future will be written not in the palaces of the old but in the courage of the young.
On a concluding note, Raut’s revolutionary speech clearly represents words as sparks and youth as storms. The revolution that toppled Nepal’s Prime Minister last week did not begin with stones or petrol bombs. It began with a schoolboy’s words, spoken with conviction and amplified by the rage of a neglected generation. For Africa’s Gen Z, the lesson is starkly unambiguous. Do not underestimate the power of voice. A fiery speech can light the match. A determined generation can carry the blaze. And as the Igbo warn, Onye akpakwana nwa agụ aka n’ọdụ ma ọ dị ndụ ma ọ nwụrụ anwụ. (Do not prick the tail of the lion’s cub, whether dead or alive). Nepal’s leaders pricked it. They paid the price. Africa’s leaders should beware. The cub’s tail is already twitching! Beware!
