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This programme contains scenes which some viewers may find upsetting
Hello and welcome to Global Eye,
a programme bringing you the best of the World Service's
investigative journalism and unmissable reporting
from BBC teams around the globe.
I'm Norberto Paredes, a reporter at BBC Mundo,
and this week we're in Venezuela.
On January 3rd, the residents of Caracas woke to a huge explosion.
President Nicolas Maduro had been captured by US forces
and was being taken to New York to face
federal drug and weapons charges.
Venezuela is now under the leadership of Delcy Rodriguez,
Maduro's former Vice President.
Under her administration,
the country is undergoing a series of reforms
that seemed unthinkable just a year ago.
But she's walking a political tightrope.
Later in the programme,
we'll bring you the untold story of last year's mass protests
in Nepal that toppled the government there.
BBC Eye's forensic investigators, using thousands of hours
of video footage and exclusive eyewitness accounts,
uncover how the actions of the police that day
led to the death of 19 protesters.
And I'll be reporting from the Venezuelan city
left high and dry by the decline of the country's oil industry.
Many people there are hoping that the return
of US oil firms will bring the good times back.
In the early hours of January 3rd,
explosions rocked the Venezuelan capital as US forces
launched Operation Absolute Resolve.
The mission aimed to dismantle national air defences
and capture Nicolas Maduro alongside his wife, Cilia Flores.
While many in the Venezuelan diaspora celebrated,
a tense calm took hold here in the streets of Venezuela.
Under the Maduro administration,
supports of foreign intervention had been criminalised,
so people couldn't talk about it freely.
With Maduro now in US custody, Venezuela is in flux,
navigating a forced political transition
amidst immense economic pressure and internal instability.
Interim President Delcy Rodriguez
has introduced a wave of new policies.
But so far, although she has instigated radical economic change,
like ending the state monopoly in the oil industry,
movement on political reform has been slower.
How things pan out may well depend
on the answer to a critical question -
what truly motivates President Donald Trump?
Is it a genuine commitment to democracy?
A desire to impose US power in his geopolitical back yard,
or simply a bid to control Venezuela's oil?
I was born and brought up in Venezuela
and have come back here to report on this huge moment for my country.
Venezuela is a land of extraordinary diversity,
from its sweeping landscapes,
like the Avila National Park you can see behind me,
to the warmth of its people.
Sitting at the northern tip of South America,
it is just as much a Caribbean nation
as it is a South American one.
The discovery of oil a century ago forged a deep connection
with the United States,
weaving American influence into the heart of the country.
You can see this most clearly in its sporting culture.
While its neighbours live for football,
in Venezuela, baseball is the national game,
and basketball is as nearly as popular.
Maduro may be gone,
but the machinery of Chavismo and anti-American nationalist ideology
created by his predecessor, Hugo Chavez,
remains firmly in control,
including in the Venezuelan parliament here behind me.
Within the movement, some hardliners remain
deeply hostile to political reform,
which explains why Delcy Rodriguez
is projecting two very different personas.
To her core supporters, she's still the uncompromising
anti-American voice of the revolution.
But to the international community,
she is showing a new willingness to cooperate
with Washington and reform the country.
The question is, how sustainable is this balancing act?
Many Venezuelans fear Rodriguez is simply playing for time
in a bid to cement her grip on power,
a tactic used by her predecessor many times before.
Amid US pressure for reforms since the capture of Maduro,
the government has released hundreds of political prisoners,
including two prominent pro-democracy activists
held in the notorious El Helicoide prison.
They told me of their hopes for Venezuela's future.
While the world focuses on the political drama,
for most Venezuelans, the immediate concern is survival.
This is a nation that has lost 70% of its GDP since 2013.
While the average monthly wage is between 60 and 70 USD a month,
it is a drop in the ocean when a basic monthly food basket
costs over 500 USD.
For the average family, the numbers simply do not add up.
Weeks have now passed since America's strike on Caracas,
but it remains unclear if the country
is truly heading towards democracy.
So far, the changes have done little to improve daily life,
and the opposition still feels silenced.
Well, another country where the future of democracy
is front and centre is Nepal.
Voters there will decide on a new government this week.
It's six months since a popular protest led by young people
on September 8th ended in violence
and the death of 19 people.
The killings led to widespread protests,
destruction, and the fall of the government.
Using evidence from more than 4,000 videos and photographs,
as well as exclusive accounts from police and protesters,
BBC Eye has carried out a forensic investigation
into how a Gen Z protest turned to tragedy
and led to unarmed protesters,
some as young as 17, being killed by police.
Nepal, September 8th, 2025.
On the streets of Kathmandu,
Gen Z protesters call for change
and are met with tear gas and live fire.
Over the next few hours, 19 young Nepalis are shot dead
by their own security forces.
Anger at these deaths ignites a second day of protest,
and this time it cannot be contained.
Drawing on more than 4,000 videos filmed on the streets,
and an exclusive leaked record of police radio,
BBC Eye pieces together a forensic account
of the most dramatic two days in Nepal's recent history,
and reveals who gave the order to open fire.
The anger that brought down Nepal's government
began not on the streets but on social media.
Gen Z, sick of what they saw as corruption and cronyism,
used #nepobabies to deride the lavish lifestyles
of the country's political elite.
Struggling to contain the dissent,
the government of Prime Minister KP Oli
took a drastic decision.
Now, in news from Nepal the country has cracked down
on a number of social media platforms,
including Facebook, YouTube, Instagram...
Undeterred, Nepal's Gen Z protesters regrouped on Discord.
By September 8th,
they were on the streets of Kathmandu.
Police had expected around 3,000 people,
but tens of thousands turn out and the police are quickly overwhelmed.
Already, things are getting out of hand...
...and the crowd sweeps towards the gates of Nepal's parliament.
By 11.58, protesters face off against armed police.
Some even managed to break into the grounds of parliament.
At 12.30, the authorities impose a curfew.
The gathering is now illegal.
But it seems to make things worse.
Seeing the gatehouse on fire, panicked officers radio for help,
asking their superiors for permission to use live ammunition.
We know this because the BBC has obtained
a leak of the police radio log that day.
This document has never been made public.
It reveals that it's now, at 12.40,
that the permission to use force is given.
It's not long before protesters start to get shot.
The first fatality we see
is at the corner of the parliamentary complex,
where a young man called Binod Maharjan is carried away
with a gunshot wound to the head.
On Discord, news of live fire
spreads from phone to phone,
and on the streets anger escalates to fury.
The police are overwhelmed.
This group was cornered outside the gates.
The assault lasts for four minutes.
At 1.42, our police timeline records the panic among officers.
Police bleeding profusely and about to be killed.
Open fire to establish safety.
Within minutes, another man is shot.
27-year-old Kamal Ghimire.
At 1.48, we find him on the opposite side of the avenue.
This is the view from Kamal's own phone.
He records a group of police officers,
at least two of whom are armed with handguns.
Kamal then walks away from the front lines.
His camera captures this man...
...throwing a stone at police.
And then...
GUNSHOTS
...Kamal falls.
We have found another view of this incident.
Here is Kamal,
the man throwing the stone,
and the moment Kamal is shot.
His medical report states that the bullet
entered beneath his left arm and exited through his back.
We do not know the precise trajectory,
but we can see the general direction
from which this bullet was fired.
It points towards the same group of police
Kamal Ghimire had filmed just moments before.
The bullet missed Kamal's spine by millimetres.
He survived.
Watching this scene was another young man,
17-year-old Shreeyam Chaulagain, still in his school uniform.
Six minutes later, closer to the junction...
...we catch Shreeyam again.
Ahead of him, a group of protesters is pelting the police with stones.
But Shreeyam turns away from the violence
and moves back towards the junction.
These are the last steps he takes.
Moments later, another phone captures images
which go viral across Nepal.
Bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound to the back of the head...
...bystanders lift him into an ambulance,
but it's too late.
By the time he arrives at the National Trauma Centre,
Shreeyam is dead.
He's the youngest victim
shot outside Nepal's parliament on September 8th.
The next person to be killed,
Yogendra Neupane,
is shot just a few steps away.
And this time, we have the clearest evidence yet that,
as Yogendra fell,
shots were being fired from inside the grounds of parliament.
Just 90 seconds before the shooting...
...a vlogger turns his camera
towards the grounds of parliament.
Pay attention to this group of police officers.
At exactly 2:21,
they move towards the wall
separating parliament from the street.
CLAMOUR
Seconds later...
GUNSHOTS
...we hear seven gunshots.
And see Yogendra
bleeding to death on the ground.
This camera angle does not reveal who shot him...
...but we found another clip of the same moment,
filmed from a few steps further along the pavement.
At first glance, there is no more evidence here.
But if we zoom in...
...and stabilise the footage,
we can clearly see gunshots.
This is the clearest visual evidence we have found,
indicating that unarmed protesters were shot dead
by Nepali police from inside the grounds of parliament.
Yogendra died of his injuries.
He was 24.
According to official figures.
19 young Nepalis were killed in the protest on September 8th.
None of those we examined were
involved in any sort of violence.
So, how did the police come to open fire on their own citizens?
According to our police sources,
and the leaked transcript,
the order came through police radio from callsign Kilo 1.
But permission to use lethal force
came from his boss, callsign Peter 1.
Curfew already in place.
No further need to obtain permission.
Deploy necessary force.
Peter 1 was Chandra Kuber Khapung,
Nepal's most senior officer,
the Inspector General of Police.
He has denied responsibility.
Nepal Police told us the decision to use force came from a committee
made up of Nepal's main security forces.
They said...
The following day, September 9th,
the protesters are back on the streets.
A second curfew is imposed, but it cannot contain the fury.
Crowds morph into mobs...
...targeting the police...
...the homes of political leaders...
...government buildings.
Left undefended,
Nepal's parliament is set ablaze.
By that evening, fire has engulfed police stations,
Singha Durbar - the historic compound
housing most government ministries -
even the Supreme Court.
Finally, at 9.00, the army steps in,
imposing a peace that has held until now...
...and installing a caretaker Prime Minister, Sushila Karki.
Her task, overseeing fresh elections
and an inquiry, still ongoing, into the events of September 8th and 9th.
While police and politicians pass the buck,
the families of those killed
are mourning their loved ones.
Like Shreeyam's mother.
Elsewhere on the World Service this week,
the Asia Specific podcast has been shining a spotlight
on Rodrigo Duterte,
the former President of the Philippines.
The International Criminal Court
has been considering whether Duterte should stand trial
for crimes against humanity
over his brutal so-called war on drugs,
which resulted in the death of tens of thousands of Filipinos.
Underlying the story is a power struggle between
the Philippines' two dominant political families,
the Dutertes and the Marcoses.
You can listen to the full podcast on BBC Sounds
or wherever you get your podcasts,
or watch, in vision, on the BBC World Service's YouTube channel.
The new Venezuelan government's move to denationalise the oil industry
is being watched closely in the country's second largest city,
Maracaibo.
The city's at the heart of Venezuela's oil producing region,
and many are hopeful the reforms will bring prosperity back
to a part of the country hit hard
by American sanctions.
Even though it may seem problematic to some
in an era of catastrophic climate change.
But times have been tough in Maracaibo.
I went to that region to find out
who the people there blame for the economic stagnation,
and whether the return of big oil
really will help the region get back on its feet.
This is Lake Maracaibo on Venezuela's north coast.
Here, you'll find local fishing boats
and the heart of Venezuela's oil industry.
The wealth from the earth here
once made Venezuela rich,
but now it's a rundown reminder of better times.
This is where oil was first discovered
in the country a century ago.
You can see the oil right here on the surface.
You can even touch it.
If Donald Trump is really going to make Venezuela great again,
as he says, this is where the impact will be felt first.
Decades of mismanagement, underinvestment and sanctions
have left the oil sector crumbling,
and pollution is affecting one of the last remaining industries.
Every year, fisherman Carlos
is pulling fewer fish from these contaminated waters.
Despite the removal of his president by Donald Trump,
he is ready for American investment
and the oil to start flowing once more.
Venezuela holds an estimated 303 billion barrels
of proven oil reserves,
the largest in the world.
Supporters of Chavismo, like Jose Luzardo
view Donald Trump's approach with suspicion.
In the mid-20th century, Maracaibo was a symbol of the great wealth
of the oil boom.
International oil companies
built whole neighbourhoods for the workers.
Today, many of those homes stand empty.
But oil did more than power Venezuela's economy,
it helped shaped its identity.
SPEAKING SPANISH
In one of those homes, we met Jose Gregorio Martinez,
who still hasn't lost hope of seeing the good times return.
Maracaibo lives a contradiction.
Despite the region's potential, the city has suffered
a severe energy crisis during the Chavista era.
Many trace the industry's collapsed to 2002,
when strikes against Hugo Chavez
led to major reforms at PDVSA.
Chavez, who took power in 1999,
responded by dismissing thousands of workers.
Jorge, not his real name, was one of the workers dismissed at the time.
He doesn't want to have his face and name disclosed,
for fear of retaliation by the Venezuelan government.
Chavismo acknowledges corruption cases that hurt the industry,
but mainly blames the economic sanctions
imposed by the United States
during Nicolas Maduro's administration for the decline.
Juan Romero, a member of parliament representing Zulia
and a local leader of the ruling PSUV party,
says foreign investment is key to the industry's revival.
Economic recovery seems to be a priority for everyone here.
There are also calls for democracy,
free elections and reparations
for victims of human rights abuses
though, for now, not many dare to mention this openly.
Thanks for joining me in Caracas.
We want your feedback on Global Eye.
Let us know what you think on social media
using the hashtag #bbcglobaleye
Next week, we'll be reporting from Australia.
Goodbye.
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