Kathmandu, September 11, 2025

We are on our third day of lockdown here in Kathmandu. The streets are eerily quiet, yet the walls still speak. I walked past a piece of graffiti sprayed in blue letters:

“Change doesn’t come through silence.”

In three days, everything has shifted. A week ago, protests were announced — peaceful, student-led. Then came the sudden shutdown of 26 social media platforms over the weekend, a digital gag order that left us all wondering what was going on. And then, when people filled the streets on Monday, out came the tear gas, the rubber bullets, the live ammunition. Nineteen people killed, hundreds injured. I saw a new death toll of 22 today.

Now, silence has been imposed through curfew. Roads are blocked, shops shuttered, public life suspended. It is a strange kind of silence — not the peaceful kind, but the heavy kind, enforced by fear and state power. The military is checking foreigners’ IDs for safety of movement.

The graffiti is a phrase for Nepal, but also for anywhere power wants compliance. It’s a reminder that silence isn’t neutral — it protects the status quo. In Chicago, in LA, in Kathmandu — anywhere — silence is what allows those in control to continue unchallenged.

So here, in the stillness of the third day of lockdown, the message feels louder than ever. Even if the streets are emptied and the power is cut, voices are finding their way out. Because history has always shown us: silence never delivers change. People do.

11sep25