Kathmandu: At midnight on December 18, a friend from Bangladesh posted a message on a WhatsApp group saying a mob had attacked The Daily Star office in Dhaka, trapping journalists on the roof of the burning building.I couldn’t sleep. I kept checking for updates on my fellow journalists’ fate. By morning, I learned that mobs had attacked and vandalised the buildings of The Daily Star and Prothom Alo, two of Bangladesh’s most prominent newspapers. Both media outlets were forced to suspend publication temporarily, though they have since resumed.The journalists weren’t rescued until 5 AM on December 19. How did they endure those three to four hours with flames consuming the floors below? I am among the few journalists in South Asia who can understand and feel the horrific situation my friends had to endure that night, because on September 9, during Nepal’s violent GenZ protests, we faced exactly the same terror.Nepal’s leading independent media houses, Annapurna Media Network, Kantipur Publications and others, were set ablaze by an unidentified group with clear ties to political outfits. This was no spontaneous outburst by angry citizens. It was calculated violence. There was arson, vandalism, scores of journalists injured, and their offices and private vehicles destroyed. I had left the office at Annapurna Express before the attackers arrived, sensing trouble from past patterns as the streets of the city began to empty out of security forces. My colleagues managed to escape outside when the mob started burning the building. Watching the Bangladesh attacks unfold brought it all flooding back – the chaos of evacuating staff, the smoke, the fear.A CCTV footage from our building shows the deliberate nature of the assault. Men in helmets carrying petrol bottles pulled furniture and computers in piles and set them on fire.One question haunts me still. Who provided the motorbikes, fuel, and other logistics? When I raise this question, some intellectuals tell me arson is part of every revolution and urge me to read the history of world revolutions instead of complaining.The attack left me psychologically scarred. My reporting slowed down. I turned down reporting assignments from friends in international media. Frankly, in my 15-year career in journalism, I have practiced a high level of self-censorship. Our friends in Bangladesh are entering the same dark tunnel.Over the past decade, a troubling pattern has crystallised across South Asia. Large, independent media outlets that hold power accountable and scrutinise governments and political parties face escalating attacks.The accusation is always the same. These outlets serve particular governments or political interests. Sometimes they’re branded as foreign agents, a charge that laymen readily accept. Both targeted Bangladeshi outlets have been accused been accused of being too close to ousted Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina while simultaneously criticising the current government policies. The irony? Sheikh Hasina herself used to slam The Daily Star for exposing her government’s corruption scandals. She branded the largest Bengali language newspaper Prothom Alo as “enemy of the Awami League, democracy, and the people of the country” on the parliament floor The Chief Advisor, Muhammad Yunus, has taken the recent attacks seriously and has spoken with the editors of both newspapers. Yet over the past few years, establishment figures have rarely condemned such violence against the press.In Nepal, the media houses that were burned faced similar accusations of political alignment. But a thorough examination of their coverage reveals the opposite. These newspapers held all governments accountable and exposed corruption across the political spectrum. Here’s the uncomfortable truth this reveals. Over the past decade, every government and political party have accused mainstream independent press of bias. This shows that free and independent journalism has become an obstacle to all forces in society pursuing their vested interests. Independent media houses have become everyone’s enemy.Most alarming is how South Asian governments respond to these attacks, or rather, don’t respond. When mobs assault media houses, security forces arrive too late, if at all.The growing impunity for crime against journalists in South Asia emboldens miscreants. Consider Nepal. On March 28, during the protests organised by pro-monarchy forces, media houses were attacked, and one journalist was killed. The state has conducted no investigation.The September 9 attacks remain uninvestigated as well. International press freedom organisations largely ignored this pattern. Their resources and attention flow to conflict zones in Palestine, Ukraine and elsewhere. South Asia receives perfunctory attention.When attacks take place, they issue a routine statement, but there is no follow-ups, no sustained pressure. The democratic west has also failed to take press freedom violations in this region seriously, distracted by shifting geopolitical priorities. Today, in South Asia, powerful forces openly confront journalists, demanding we bend to their will or face punishment. Our newsrooms are burning. The world looks away.