Kulman Ghising heads the pack for Nepal’s interim PM as Gen Z pivots away from Karki

For years, Nepal suffered 18-hour daily blackouts. Then one manager took over and switched the lights back on—fast. That record has now propelled Kulman Ghising, the 54-year-old former chief of the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA), to the front of the race to lead a caretaker government after KP Sharma Oli resigned amid violent anti-corruption protests that left 30 people dead.

The same Gen Z activists who filled the streets and forced a leadership reset are pushing for a different kind of prime minister—less politician, more problem-solver. Their pick has shifted from former Chief Justice Sushila Karki, long admired for her clean image, to Ghising, the technocrat who ended load-shedding and turned a loss-making utility into a profit-maker.

How Nepal got here

It started with anger over a government-imposed ban on major social media platforms. That one move hit a raw nerve with young Nepalis who live, organize, and work online. What began as a digital rights protest quickly morphed into a bigger fight over corruption, unemployment, and lack of accountability. Demonstrations flared across urban centers, clashes turned deadly, and within days the political ground shifted under Kathmandu’s feet.

Oli stepped down on September 9. The Nepal Army responded with nationwide prohibitory orders and a curfew through 6 a.m., citing the need to prevent further arson, vandalism, and mob violence. Security forces took primary control in major cities to stabilize the situation while politicians scrambled to find an interim arrangement that can command public trust and calm the streets.

Into this vacuum walked an unusual shortlist. At first, the protesters rallied behind Sushila Karki, Nepal’s former Chief Justice known for her tough anti-graft posture. Kathmandu’s mayor, Balen Shah, publicly backed her as a consensus caretaker. Protest representatives then began formal consultations—meeting President Ramchandra Paudel and Army chief Ashok Raj Sigdel at army headquarters—to explore a nonpartisan interim leadership.

But as the talks widened and the movement’s priorities hardened—clean governance now, elections soon, youth in the room—Ghising’s name surged. The appeal is straightforward: he is seen as apolitical, tested under pressure, and obsessed with execution rather than rhetoric. For a generation that measures leadership in outcomes, not promises, that combination is hard to beat.

There’s also a recent reminder of his public standing. When the government tried to move him out of the NEA in March, thousands protested and timelines filled with anger. Even leaders from rival parties criticized the decision. The blowback made clear that Ghising’s popularity cuts across party lines—rare currency in a polarized moment.

Behind closed doors, the search now revolves around two questions. First, can a caretaker led by outsiders truly work with parties that still control Parliament and the bureaucracy? Second, who can restore calm fast enough to organize credible polls? The presidency is pushing for a consensus figure who can bridge that gap. Protest representatives want a short, tightly defined mandate with timelines and checkpoints so the caretaker does not become permanent by drift.

Why Ghising now—and what an interim cabinet would face

Ghising’s record at the NEA is the core of his candidacy. When he took charge in September 2016, Nepal was chained to load-shedding—up to 17–18 hours a day in some areas. Within months, he killed it. He did not build a mega-dam overnight. He reorganized the system: managing peak demand better, prioritizing essential services, staggering industrial load, cutting technical and non-technical losses, and optimizing cross-border power imports from India during crunch hours. He also renegotiated power purchase agreements, tightened billing and collections, and plugged leaks that had bled the utility for years. The NEA swung from chronic losses to sustained profits, easing pressure on the state and industry alike.

That story matters beyond electricity. It’s a proof-of-concept that good management can move the needle even in a messy environment. Protesters fixated on graft and broken promises look at the NEA turnaround and see a template for governance: data over slogans, transparency over patronage, outcomes over optics.

For Karki and her supporters, the shift is a tough break. She remains the symbol of integrity for many. Her legal mind and her past rulings against corruption carry moral force. She also signaled a steady hand in foreign policy—she has publicly praised India’s leadership and talked about tighter ties with New Delhi—at a time when Nepal’s balancing act between India and China is under scrutiny. But in a street-led, youth-heavy movement, the hunger for quick, visible fixes in jobs, digital freedoms, and service delivery has given the technocrat an edge over the jurist.

Other names haven’t vanished. Balen Shah retains strong urban support and would be a powerful ally for any interim leader trying to manage cities under curfew. A handful of senior bureaucrats and civil society figures are being sounded out for cabinet roles focused on finance, home, law, and energy. The formula taking shape, according to people involved in the talks, is a small team with spotless records, limited tenure, and a clear path to elections.

If Ghising does get the nod, the to-do list is brutal and immediate:

• Lift or recalibrate the social media ban while putting in place rules against incitement and coordinated harm that don’t crush free speech.
• Announce a tight election calendar with milestones—voter rolls, funding, code of conduct, and a fixed date—so the process feels real, not rhetorical.
• Set up an independent anti-corruption drive that can move without fear or favor, with public dashboards so people see cases progress.
• Release a transparent review of protest deaths and injuries, promise compensation where due, and hold abusers to account regardless of uniform.
• Stabilize the economy: curb inflation pressures, protect small businesses hit by curfews, keep capital projects moving, and reassure investors.
• Secure uninterrupted power and fuel during the transition, especially for hospitals, telecom networks, and public transport.

Foreign policy will hover over all of this. Nepal needs cooperative ties with India, including open border management, power trade, and trade logistics that keep factories humming. China remains a crucial partner on infrastructure and tourism. A caretaker PM—particularly one without party baggage—will need to convince both neighbors that the transition is orderly and short, not a prelude to instability. Karki’s backers argue her diplomatic stature could help there. Ghising’s camp says stability flows from performance at home first, then diplomacy.

There are risks. An outsider prime minister, however popular, does not command a party machine. Passing even simple administrative orders can get messy if ministries drag their feet or if parties see the caretaker as a threat to their turf. The constitution gives the president a role in appointing a prime minister, but an extra-parliamentary, consensus caretaker is a delicate construct that only works if parties agree to it and stick to the script. Any drift and the army’s current stabilizing posture could become a political football—exactly what Nepal wants to avoid.

There’s also the question of duration. Protesters want a sprint—90 to 180 days to put out fires and go to polls. Parties might push for a longer runway to settle disputes, redraw alliances, and prepare war chests. Investors and lenders prefer clarity: a short, credible timeline beats an open-ended transition every time.

What do the streets want beyond a new face at the top? A short list keeps coming up in protest forums: jobs and apprenticeships for youth; credible action on corruption that doesn’t stop at small fish; safeguards for digital rights; and cheaper, more reliable public services. The median age in Nepal is in the mid-20s. A generation raised on smartphones and migration dreams is sick of treating politics as a spectator sport. Their insistence on putting young people into the interim cabinet—even as deputies or special secretaries—may be the most consequential demand of this moment.

Ghising’s backstory speaks to that audience. He studied in Nepal and India, worked through the ranks, and built his reputation not in TV studios but in control rooms and balance sheets. His critics say that’s exactly the problem—running a utility is not running a country. But supporters counter that a caretaker’s brief is limited: restore calm, run clean procurement, unblock vital services, and set up elections. In that frame, a competent technocrat surrounded by capable administrators may be the right tool for a narrow job.

The business community is watching closely. Hydropower developers want predictable policy and fast-tracked clearances. Manufacturers need certainty on power, logistics, and labor. Tourism operators are praying the curfews don’t wipe out the autumn season. If a caretaker can guarantee order and clarity, the economy can breathe. If not, capital will sit on its hands, and the cost of borrowing will creep up—hurting everyone from small shopkeepers to infrastructure projects.

Energy policy will be a bellwether. Nepal’s grid still needs reinforcement to handle rising demand and seasonal swings. Cross-border power trade with India is a lifeline in peak months; exporting surplus monsoon electricity helps the balance sheet. Expect a Ghising-led caretaker to keep a tight focus on loss reduction, utility discipline, and project bottlenecks. It won’t win elections by itself, but it will keep lights on, hospitals powered, and tempers cooler while politics resets.

Security will test the government from day one. Curfews can’t last forever without backlash. The interior ministry will have to shift from force to facilitation: more communication, better crowd control, clear legal protocols for detentions, and swift action against any abuse. A credible, independent inquiry into the 30 deaths would send a powerful message that the state values life over face-saving.

What if the talks stall? There’s a narrow path where Karki returns as a consensus choice—especially if parties balk at a manager without legal and constitutional heft. There’s another where a hybrid team emerges: Ghising in the lead with Karki or other legal heavyweights in key roles to steer electoral and judicial reforms. And there’s the fallback of a party-led caretaker, which protesters are likely to condemn as a return to business as usual. The presidency is trying to avoid the last option by keeping all sides at the table, including representatives of the Gen Z collectives that ignited the moment.

In the meantime, the country is running on half-beats. Schools in some districts are shut or on reduced hours, courts are prioritizing urgent matters, and public transport runs thin after dark. Rural areas are quieter but anxious; big cities feel tense but determined. In conversations across Kathmandu, a simple sentiment keeps surfacing: give us a government that works and a timeline we can trust, and we will go back to work and let the politics play out at the ballot box.

That’s the wager behind the push for Ghising. It’s not ideology. It’s not the romance of a movement. It’s muscle memory from the load-shedding years: a country that watched a complex, unpopular problem get solved in plain sight. If the same mindset can be applied to a messy transition—tight goals, open books, and a clock everyone can see—Nepal might yet turn a dangerous crisis into a reset.

The next 72 hours will be telling. If a consensus name is announced, expect curfews to loosen, a roadmap to be published, and a scramble to assemble a small cabinet with clean track records. If talks drag, the street pressure could spike again, and the calculus may shift back to figures like Karki who bring legal authority and diplomatic weight. Either way, the Gen Z-led movement has put down a marker: no more blank checks for the political class, and no more business as usual without results.