The protest had four official demands: stop buying new cars for members of parliament, which represented a US$4 million expense; eliminate lifetime pensions for parliamentarians; reallocate funding to productive sectors such as education and health; and amend the 100-metre protest restriction rule. This is a legal provision that prohibits protests within 100 metres of public buildings. In the capital, Dili, the density of public buildings means protests are not allowed in large parts of the city, and police have used the rule to restrict protests, at times with unnecessary force and arrests.

Beneath those demands lay deeper grievances about corruption, the education system, employment opportunities and the health system. The government claims there is public consultation on the state budget, but it’s not accessible to everyone, and young people are not in the room when decisions are made, so politicians make laws to benefit themselves. But the protest wasn’t about hating politicians. It was about waking them up. We wanted to tell them we’re watching, and they shouldn’t be wasting our money, which is also their children’s and grandchildren’s money. We wanted to hold them accountable.

It was amazing how broad the protests were. They were not limited to an ethnic group, a political party or a specific university. There were young people from all walks of life, including high school students in their uniforms, influencers, photographers, small business owners, United Nations workers and videographers. Many who’d never been interested in politics before showed up. The crowd was very diverse, so you couldn’t profile the protesters. That’s why the government couldn’t call us troublemakers.

While the trigger was entirely local, the inspiration came from the experiences of Indonesia and Nepal, which provided proof that young people can make a difference when they organise. Because so many young people took part, and because similar protests were happening across the region, this came to be seen as part of a global wave of Gen Z-led protests. But in this case, the student union led the protest. While everyone waited outside, it was the union president who went inside the National Parliament to negotiate.

Over 80 per cent of young people in Timor-Leste have at least one social media account, and Facebook is the most powerful tool. But there is also fear, because there’s no cybersecurity or data protection law. Although this shouldn’t be the case in a democracy, when we post, we think twice and self-censor. Some topics are safe, but others, such as the church, religion in general and mentioning high-ranking people by name, are not.

The invitation to the protests was just a Facebook post from the student union, with no official letters or personal calls. People saw the post, shared it and showed up. Word of mouth did the rest. The student union had a leadership structure, but the crowd was spontaneous. When negotiations took too long, people started throwing rocks to show they were impatient and were not going away.

Police monitored the protests with drones. Some activists were interrogated and taken to police stations. Police raided the house and harassed the family of one student union chief. Some young people lost their jobs. But when someone was arrested, everyone made a noise on social media, and within hours they were released.

On the first day, it was relatively calm. On the second, there was a riot. Police used teargas and people – protesters and possibly third parties too – threw rocks. Young people were hurt. Police entered the National University, right next to parliament, to search for activists suspected of throwing rocks.

By the third day, something had changed. The police and the student union reached an agreement, and the police told us they wouldn’t react unless we did something really bad. Later that day, when an agreement with parliament was reached, we all danced together. The police have children too, and they too were worried about the future.

There were violations, but overall we felt protected. And we learned that when young people organise, even security forces have to listen. We also made sure to clean up all the rubbish at the end, showing we are responsible, even when protesting.

One demand was met outright. The government agreed not to purchase the new cars. And young people learned how to organise. Youth movements used to be fragmented, but now people realise they need to come together to fight injustice.

The lifetime pension issue is more complicated. It shook parliament, went all the way to the president and then went to the courts. The fact that the constitution may prevent change made us realise that some things cannot be changed just because we protest. Before getting noisy about a law, we need to understand what is already written. Is it unconstitutional? Can it actually change? If not, we need a different strategy.

The same goes for the third demand, that of reallocating the budget to productive sectors. To put more money into education or health, you have to take it from somewhere else. We cannot just shout. We need to understand the system.

That said, the student union leaders sat down with lawmakers to negotiate, something that had never happened before. Young people were at the table. That’s a win in itself.

The energy has not disappeared. There have been smaller protests, including against a university professor who committed sexual harassment and over a police recruitment process that was stopped unfairly. Young people are now acting as watchdogs, scrutinising every decision and asking: who benefits from this?

We are also building relationships with young people who work inside government and parliament. They are not the top decision-makers, but are close to them. If we can reach them, our messages get carried to where decisions are actually made. And we have the support of family, friends and lawyers who have our backs when things get difficult.

What keeps us going is simple. When you ask yourself whether your children will live better than you. and the answer is no, you have to do something. We are not fighting only for ourselves. We are fighting for the generation that comes after us. Protests will always happen because injustices happen every day, but protest does not have to mean the street. It can be a conversation, a letter, a video campaign. As long as we keep making noise, the fire stays alive.