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JSC v COI. Judicial Services Commission Strikes Back. High Court Bid to Quash COI Findings Raises Stakes in Fiji’s Constitutional Struggle. JSC says findings based on flawed statutory & constitutional interpretations

19/9/2025

The Judicial Services Commission has launched an extraordinary counterattack against the findings of the Commission of Inquiry (COI) into the appointment of Barbara Malimali as the Commissioner of the Fiji Independent Commission Against Corruption (FICAC).

In a press release issued by FA & Company on 18 September 2025, the JSC confirmed that it has filed an application for judicial review, seeking to quash the COI Report dated 1 May 2025. The application, lodged on 17 September, asks the High Court for an order of certiorari to strike down the COI’s findings and recommendations, together with a range of declaratory relief. Certiorari is a court order used to quash or nullify a decision, report, or ruling made without lawful authority or in breach of natural justice.

This move is no ordinary legal challenge. It raises the spectre of a looming constitutional crisis if the courts uphold the COI’s controversial interpretations.

JSC Accuses COI of “Perverse” Interpretations

The JSC argues that the COI’s findings were not only inconsistent with the evidence presented before it, but were also based on flawed statutory and constitutional interpretations. Two key provisions are at the heart of the dispute:

Sections 5(1), 7(1) and 10(1) of the FICAC Act 2007 – governing the appointment and powers of the Commissioner of FICAC.
Section 82 of the 2013 Constitution – which assigns the JSC a constitutional role in advising the President on appointments to the FICAC Commissioner position.

According to the JSC, the COI’s interpretation of these provisions is “perverse” and risks derailing Fiji’s established legal order. In particular, the Commission claims that the COI’s reading of section 82 of the Constitution undermines the JSC’s independent performance of its constitutional role.

The press release from Fa & Company issues a stark warning: unless corrected, the COI’s interpretation “will result in a constitutional crisis in Fiji in the near future.”

COI Report Weaponised Against JSC

Beyond the black-letter law, the JSC is also clearly angered by what it describes as the political “weaponisation” of the COI’s findings.

“Since the COI Report became public, the contents of the Report have been weaponised against the JSC and its officers,” the statement declares. This, they argue, is improper not least because evidence before a Commission of Inquiry cannot ordinarily be admitted in court proceedings, save for narrow exceptions under the COI Act 1946.

The JSC insists that criticisms against it and its officers “have no merits and will be purged in these proceedings.”

In a pointed warning to political actors and media outlets, the release urges all those “politicising the findings and recommendations” to desist, threatening possible legal action against those who continue to attack the JSC on the basis of the COI report.

A Legal Clash with Far-Reaching Consequences

The JSC’s application is more than a mere technical dispute. It reflects a deeper power struggle over Fiji’s anti-corruption apparatus, judicial independence, and constitutional governance.

At stake is the delicate balance between Parliament, the Executive, and the Judiciary, all mediated through Fiji’s controversial 2013 Constitution.

Critics have long argued that section 82 centralises too much power in the JSC, while shielding it from meaningful accountability. On the other hand, defenders of the JSC view it as one of the last institutional checks preventing political interference in judicial and quasi-judicial appointments.

The COI, by siding with a restrictive view of the JSC’s role, has opened a fault line. If its recommendations stand, the President’s discretion, and by extension, the government of the day, may be seen as expanding at the expense of the JSC’s authority.

A Looming Constitutional Crisis

The language of the JSC’s press release is not subtle. By warning of a “constitutional crisis”, the Commission is making clear that it sees the COI’s recommendations as striking at the very heart of the constitutional order.

We note that this is not mere rhetoric. If the courts endorse the COI’s reasoning, it may trigger a cascade of challenges over past and future appointments, not only at FICAC but potentially in other integrity institutions as well.

The standoff also risks drawing Fiji into a repeat of past crises where competing interpretations of the Constitution have been used to justify political upheaval.

Editorial Note: Law, Politics, and the Erosion of Public Confidence

For ordinary Fijians, this legal battle will appear yet another round of high-stakes infighting within the corridors of power. But the implications are profound.

If the COI’s findings stand, the JSC’s independence could be permanently curtailed. If the JSC succeeds, critics will accuse it of shielding itself from scrutiny and accountability.

Either way, the ongoing politicisation of constitutional institutions, whether through commissions of inquiry, court proceedings, or political manoeuvres, risks further eroding public trust.

In this context, the JSC’s warning against “weaponising” the COI report rings hollow. Once released, such reports inevitably become political footballs. The real issue is not whether the report is politicised, but whether Fiji’s constitutional framework can withstand the blows now being dealt to it from every side.

Conclusion

The JSC’s judicial review application is a pivotal test. The courts will now be asked to decide not only on the correctness of the COI’s legal reasoning but also on the very boundaries of constitutional power.

This is not a mere skirmish over statutory interpretation. It is a struggle for the soul of Fiji’s constitutional order, and one that may well determine whether the promise of independent institutions can survive in the years to come.

The Acting Commissioner of the Fiji Independent Commission Against Corruption (FICAC), Lavi Rokoika, has confirmed she is receiving her salary, despite the JSC not recognising her appointment and questions over the legitimacy of her appointment.

“I was appointed by the President. My appointment letter was given to me on 29 May, and I have been paid,” Rokoika told Mai TV when asked whether she had been remunerated since her appointment.

Sources tell Mai TV that the PM’s Office through the Solicitor General had written to the JSC asking them to officiate the terms and conditions of remuneration, but the JSC had written back saying they could not do so as they were not the appointing authority and had not been involved in her appointment.

Rokoika’s appointment was made without the involvement of the Judicial Services Commission (JSC), as set out in Section 115(12) of the 2013 Constitution. That provision states that the Commissioner and Deputy Commissioner of FICAC are entitled to remuneration determined by the President acting on the advice of the JSC, following consultation with the Attorney-General.

Instead, Rokoika’s appointment—announced via a May 29 press statement from Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s office—came directly from President Ratu Naiqama Lalabalavu on the advice of the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister’s press release cited sections 81(2) and (3) of the Constitution as the legal basis for the appointment, without reference to Section 115(12) or the JSC.

Sources told Mai TV that the JSC could not officiate her remuneration because it has not participated in the appointment itself, and doing so could amount to an abuse of office. Source: Mai TV, 19 September 2025

FICAC Acting Chief’s Pay Sparks Constitutional Firestorm: Why the JSC is Right to Resist

Why We Must Enter the Debate on FICAC: Standing Firm Against Political Evasion of Justice

We enter this debate not as idle commentators but as complainants whose own cases are at stake. Our detailed complaints against Finance Minister Biman Prasad, which the then FICAC Commissioner Barbara Malimali wrongfully closed, remain unresolved.

Now, with her successor Lavi Rokoika confirming she is being paid despite the Judicial Services Commission (JSC) refusing to recognise her appointment, the stakes are even higher. If she takes our legal analysis personally, there is a real risk our complaints could be sidelined once again.

But this is precisely why we must stand firm. We will continue to insist, as we have consistently, that Biman Prasad must be charged and brought before the courts, as was originally scheduled for 5 September. To retreat now would be to accept that constitutional shortcuts and political convenience can override the rule of law.

Just as we defend the JSC’s right to resist unconstitutional appointments, we defend our right to demand accountability at the highest levels of government. The rule of law requires nothing less.

Fiji is once again standing on the edge of a constitutional precipice. Acting FICAC Commissioner Lavi Rokoika has confirmed she is receiving a salary, even though the Judicial Services Commission (JSC) refuses to recognise her appointment or to set her terms of remuneration.

This admission, simple on its face, reveals a deeper fracture in Fiji’s governance: the bypassing of constitutional safeguards designed to keep corruption fighters independent of the government of the day.

The controversy is not merely about one person’s pay packet. It is about whether the 2013 Constitution’s checks and balances still mean anything when they stand in the way of political expedience.

The Legal Framework: Section 115(12)

At the core of this dispute lies Section 115(12) of the 2013 Constitution. It states:

“The Commissioner and Deputy Commissioner of the Fiji Independent Commission Against Corruption are entitled to remuneration determined by the President on the advice of the Judicial Services Commission, following consultation by the Judicial Services Commission with the Attorney-General.”

The wording is unambiguous. For remuneration to be validly set:

The President must act;
The JSC must advise;
The Attorney-General must be consulted.

It is a three-step safeguard. This framework was no accident. FICAC was created in 2007 and entrenched under the 2013 Constitution precisely to ensure that its Commissioner could not be beholden to political favour (the reverse was on display).

What Actually Happened

On 29 May 2025, the President announced Rokoika’s appointment as Acting Commissioner “on the advice of the Prime Minister,” citing sections 81(2) & (3) of the Constitution (relating to presidential appointments generally).

The JSC was excluded from the process.
Despite this, Rokoika has been receiving pay, reportedly funded through government channels.

This raises two questions:

If the JSC was bypassed, who advised the President on remuneration?
On what constitutional basis is Rokoika being paid?

The JSC has refused to “officiate” her pay, warning that to do so would itself constitute abuse of office, since it would legitimise an appointment it considers constitutionally defective.

The JSC’s Judicial Review

On 17 September 2025, the JSC escalated matters by filing a judicial review application, seeking to quash the Commission of Inquiry (COI) Report that had criticised its role in appointments.

In a striking press release, the JSC declared that the COI’s interpretations of the Constitution were “perverse” and, if left uncorrected, would trigger a constitutional crisis.

The JSC’s legal challenge directly contests the government’s attempt to stretch constitutional provisions to suit political convenience.

Legal Analysis

1. Appointment vs. Remuneration

The government relies on s. 81(2) & (3) to justify the President’s power to act on the Prime Minister’s advice in making acting appointments. But s. 115(12) is a specific provision for FICAC, and under well-established principles of constitutional interpretation, specific provisions override general ones (generalia specialibus non derogant).

Thus, even if s.81(2) could justify an appointment, remuneration cannot lawfully be set without the JSC’s advice.

2. Payment Without Constitutional Authority

Payments made to Rokoika without JSC advice may be ultra vires. Under the Financial Management Act 2004, all public expenditure must be lawfully appropriated. Paying an officer whose appointment procedure is unconstitutional risks being categorised as unlawful expenditure, opening potential liability for abuse of office.

3. De Facto Officer Doctrine?

Rokoika could argue she is a de facto officer, that is, even if her appointment was defective, the acts done under her authority remain valid to avoid chaos. Courts sometimes apply this doctrine to protect the public from uncertainty.

But this doctrine is applied sparingly, and courts are reluctant to excuse unconstitutional procedures for high-level integrity offices.

4. Abuse of Office Risks

The JSC is correct to warn of abuse of office. If it were to rubber-stamp remuneration after being excluded from the appointment, it would legitimise a breach of the Constitution. By refusing, it is protecting its own institutional integrity, and arguably upholding the rule of law.

Political and Institutional Implications

This saga is not just a legal battle. It exposes:

Executive Overreach: By bypassing the JSC, the government risks concentrating power over anti-corruption appointments in the hands of the Prime Minister.
Judicial Independence Under Siege: The JSC is now in open confrontation with the Executive, a dangerous dynamic in a country with a history of constitutional breakdowns.
Public Confidence in FICAC: For FICAC to function credibly, its leadership must be unimpeachable. The perception that its head was installed via constitutional shortcuts damages its authority from day one.

Why This Matters

Fiji has been down this road before. Every constitutional rupture, from 1987 to 2006, began with politicians bending institutions to their will.

Section 115(12) is a line in the sand, drawn precisely to stop political leaders from dictating who runs the country’s anti-corruption watchdog. To allow that line to be crossed without consequence is to erode one of the last safeguards left in the 2013 Constitution.

The JSC’s judicial review is therefore not mere institutional self-defence. It is a test of whether the Constitution still has enforceable meaning.

Conclusion

The legal position is clear: Rokoika’s remuneration is unconstitutional without the JSC’s advice, and the JSC is right to resist. Payments made to her may be challenged as unlawful, and the courts will likely side with the JSC on the interpretation of section 115(12).

But the broader issue is even starker: if the Executive can override constitutional procedures at will, Fiji risks sliding into yet another cycle of institutional capture and constitutional crisis.

The rule of law cannot survive if the Constitution’s safeguards are treated as optional. The JSC has drawn the line. The question is whether Fiji’s courts will stand with it. And,

Whether the appointment of Ms. Lavi Rokoika as Acting Commissioner of the Fiji Independent Commission Against Corruption (FICAC) was valid under the 2013 Constitution.
Whether her remuneration is valid where the Judicial Services Commission (JSC) did not advise the President as required by s. 115(12) of the Constitution.
Whether payments made to Ms. Rokoika in these circumstances constitute unlawful expenditure under the Financial Management Act 2004.
What consequences arise for pending complaints and prosecutions if her appointment is found to be defective.

Fijileaks on FA & Company's Press Release
Weaponisation Claim Is Weak
Public debate on COI findings is not unlawful. Unless defamatory statements are made, criticism of the JSC cannot be “purged” simply by legal threat.
In fact, the warning to critics may embolden those who see the JSC as an institution unwilling to face accountability.

fijilive.com/jsc-is-trying-to-mask-the-truth-says-narube/?fbclid=IwY2xjawM6BINleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHqZ4e-soJZMlOvKH87NH3atMjR7OH_f6G_k1C7lYbBbooad0KzwCJn7fBu-e_aem_3nSUxzJAUQ3wIp7FsL57wg

PRAGMATISTS v PURISTS. Why Wadan Narsey's Talk of Single-Member Seats is Constitutionally Impossible Without a Referendum. Did FATIAKI forget his reading glasses to remind Narsey of s53 in 2013 Constitution?

17/9/2025

By WADAN NARSEY
Fiji Electoral Reform Commissioner

Fijileaks: It is one of the stranger spectacles in Fiji’s ongoing constitutional theatre. The Electoral Commission’s chair, none other than former Chief Justice Daniel Fatiaki, presides over an electoral reform debate where Section 53 of the 2013 Constitution looms like a thundercloud.
*And yet, in all the public cheer-leading for Wadan Narsey's “hybrid constituencies” and “popular loser” lists, not a whisper is heard about the fact that Section 53 makes such proposals legally impossible.
*Did Fatiaki, a man who once occupied the highest judicial office in the land, simply skim past Section 53? Or did he imagine the voters wouldn’t notice that the Constitution mandates one thing and the Electoral Commissioner Wadan Narsey is busy recommending another?

The Unyielding Text of Section 53
Narsey’s argument rests on a hope that the Commission can creatively interpret the Constitution. But section 53 is explicit, categorical, and leaves no interpretive wiggle room. The voting system is locked as multi-member, open-list proportional representation.
Until a referendum overturns it, that lock will hold. Any claim to the contrary is not reformist ingenuity. It is constitutional wishful thinking.

From Fellow Traveller to Silent Stranger: How Narsey Mislaid His Friends after NFP & Prasad went into Coalition

Once upon a time, Wadan Narsey and I were fellow travellers. When a few outlets would touch him, I gave him (including Biman Prasad) space on Fijileaks (since September 2012). I reproduced Narseys blogs, his essays, his Fiji Times columns. I carried his words to audiences he could not otherwise reach.

And then, curiously, when the National Federation Party and its leader Biman Prasad climbed into coalition with Sitiveni Rabuka, he vanished. No more emails. No more exchanges. No more courtesy. No more leaks. He cut all contact as though friendship and shared battles were disposable.

Now, he resurfaces in the Fiji Times (13 September) with a bold prescription for Fiji’s electoral future: “open constituencies,” “popular loser” lists, and clever hybrids that supposedly fix our “democratic deficit.”

Only one snag: Section 53 of the 2013 Constitution makes every one of his proposals impossible.

Section 53, the Wall Nobody Can Pretend Away

The Constitution isn’t ambiguous. It requires:

A multi-member open list system of proportional representation,
Seat allocation based strictly on total votes cast, and
Electoral laws that conform to internationally recognised open-list proportional systems.

That’s not a drafting suggestion. It’s a lock. Single-member seats, constituency carve-ups, and “popular losers” are not allowed. Full stop. Unless there’s a referendum, and Fiji has no law to conduct one, Section 53 rules the field.

Fatiaki’s Silence, Narsey’s Noise

My old friend Daniel Fatiaki, former Chief Justice and now chair of the Electoral Commission, surely knows this. Yet the Commission has pushed along as if Section 53 were optional. Silence where there should be certainty.

Narsey, meanwhile, fills the gap with noise, an economist moonlighting as a constitutional engineer. And he did it without so much as a courtesy copy to Fatiaki, leaving his old colleague to look complicit in promoting reforms that the Constitution blocks.

From Space Given to Silence Returned

What stings most is not Narsey’s poor constitutional arithmetic. It is the silence. I gave him space on Fijileaks when others would not. I published his words, stood by his arguments, and opened the door for his voice. And when it suited him, when political alliances shifted, he closed the door behind him, cut contact, bolted into thin air.

My Old Friend Daniel Fatiaki Must Have Mislaid His Glasses

Daniel Fatiaki and I go back nearly forty-five years, to the days when he was a fresh-faced prosecutor in the DPP’s office and I was cutting my teeth as a young court reporter at the original Fiji Sun. Ours has been a friendship for decades, forged in courtrooms, and over countless grog bowls. Which is why I say this with a mix of fondness and exasperation: Daniel, old friend, you didn’t read Section 53.

And Wadan Narsey didn’t bother to copy you in before blasting his latest constitutional brainstorm into the Fiji Times. It’s all there in black and white. Section 53 of the 2013 Constitution: elections must be held by multi-member open list proportional representation. Seats must be awarded in strict proportion to votes. Any electoral law must comply with internationally recognised open-list methods.

In other words, no single-member seats, no geographic carve-ups, no “popular losers.” All the tinkering in the world cannot change that unless the Constitution itself is amended by a referendum, a referendum that Fiji has no law to even conduct.

So today we watch the spectacle:

Fatiaki, my friend of forty-five years, apparently without his reading glasses, letting Section 53 pass unnoticed.
Narsey, once a fellow traveller, now a silent stranger, preaching impossible reforms in the pages of the Fiji Times.

And the 2013 Constitution of Fiji, sitting there all along, laughing at them both.

Fiji’s Electoral Crossroads: Why Talk of Single-Member Seats is Constitutionally Impossible Without a Referendum

The renewed debate on Fiji’s democratic “deficit”, highlighted in Wadan Narsey’s recent piece (Fiji Times, 13 September 2025), has reignited calls for electoral reform, including a shift towards single-member constituencies. Yet beneath the political rhetoric lies an unmovable legal reality: Fiji’s current constitutional framework makes such a change not merely difficult but impossible without a national referendum.

The Supreme Court’s Position: 2013 Constitution is Binding

The Fiji Supreme Court has already ruled that the 2013 Constitution is valid and binding. In doing so, it confirmed that the only method to alter its core provisions is through a referendum requiring strict voting thresholds. Parliament alone cannot unilaterally amend electoral rules that are entrenched in the Constitution.

This judicial clarity means that proposals for “single-member electorates” are, for now, purely theoretical. Without a referendum framework in place, political parties cannot credibly promise change to voters.

Section 53: The Lock on Proportional Representation

At the heart of the matter is section 53 of the 2013 Constitution. It mandates a multi-member, open-list system of proportional representation based on a single national electoral roll. Each voter has one vote of equal value, and seats are distributed proportionately among parties and independents who cross the 5% threshold.

This design is deliberate: it eliminates constituency boundaries, prevents ethnic gerrymandering, and forces parties to appeal across Fiji’s electorate rather than retreating into communal silos. Any move towards single-member seats would require the repeal or wholesale amendment of section 53 and related provisions.

Ethnicity, Gender, and Representation: Speculative Terrain

Advocates for single-member electorates often claim such a system would better reflect Fiji’s ethnic demographics. But such claims rest on assumptions about how electoral boundaries would be drawn, how parties would field candidates, and how communities would vote. Without clear boundary laws or demographic modelling, such assertions are conjectural.

Similarly, suggestions that women’s representation could be improved through reserved single-member seats would collide directly with Fiji’s Bill of Rights. To constitutionally guarantee women-only electorates would require a further amendment enshrining gender-based political privileges. This would be no small undertaking and would raise thorny questions about the number, location, and qualifications of such seats.

The Missing Piece: No Referendum Law

Perhaps the most glaring gap is that Fiji has no legislation to conduct a referendum. While the Constitution requires one for amendments to fundamental provisions such as section 53, there is no enabling law setting out procedures, timelines, voter thresholds, or administrative oversight. Until Parliament passes such legislation, the entire conversation about constitutional reform remains academic.

Electoral Timetable Pressures

Adding to the urgency, section 54 of the Constitution requires the Electoral Commission to review the composition of Parliament at least one year before the next general election. This review must adjust the number of seats to keep pace with population changes.

Yet it is already September 2025, and no reform report has been tabled in Parliament. With time running out before the next election cycle, the political class faces a stark choice: either maintain the proportional system or begin the complex, time-consuming process of legislating a referendum and drafting constitutional amendments.

Pragmatists vs. Purists

Narsey frames the debate as one between pragmatists, who argue that proportional representation prevents ethnic fragmentation and provides stability, and purists, who lament Fiji’s democratic deficit under the current system. While the purists may dream of “truer” representation through single-member constituencies, the constitutional barriers are towering.

The pragmatists, for now, hold the stronger ground: change is not only politically fraught but constitutionally frozen. Unless Parliament summons the will to legislate for a referendum, and Fiji’s voters deliver the required majority, section 53 will remain the unyielding cornerstone of the electoral system.

Conclusion: A Debate Without a Mechanism

The irony of Fiji’s electoral reform debate is that it has become untethered from legal reality. Single-member constituencies cannot even be considered without first establishing the machinery for a referendum. Parliament, constrained by the Supreme Court’s ruling and by the absence of a referendum law, cannot act alone.

Until those basic steps are taken, calls for reform will remain rhetorical exercises. Fiji’s democracy may indeed face deficits but addressing them will require more than political debate. It will require the painstaking legal work of building a pathway for constitutional change.

Additional Analysis and Implications

Here are things to think through, given what Narsey argues and what we have noted:

Interpretive Flexibility in the 2013 Constitution

While s.53 is explicit about proportional representation and a national roll, there appears to be interpretive space: the Constitution requires only one electoral roll, not one single constituency. Narsey (via the Commission) sees scope for defining multiple local or regional constituencies within the proportional framework, as long as proportionality is preserved (e.g. via complementary lists or “popular loser” lists).
This means a possible hybrid model: some constituencies with local MPs plus a list component to ensure proportionality. That might be more achievable than full single-member seat abolition and looks more constitutionally safe.

Thresholds and Voter Approval

There is some ambiguity over what “referendum majority” standard is required. The 2013 Constitution seems to demand 75% of registered voters in a referendum for constitutional changes. But the Supreme Court, as per Narsey’s summary, suggests a lower threshold (50% of those voting? or of registered voters?) for certain types of amendments. This could be clarified in future legal contest. Narsey presents the Supreme Court’s suggested procedure.

Legitimacy and Timing

One of Narsey’s main concerns is legitimacy: that Parliament which does not reflect the will of the people lacks moral authority to push through major constitutional changes. This connects with our point about democratic deficit.
There is also the timetable pressure: with the next general election due in 2026-27, and the Commission’s report already submitted, there is limited time to debate, legislate, and if needed, prepare for a referendum.

Women’s Representation & Other Minority Concerns

The proposal for reserved seats for women (not separate electorates by sex, but seats reserved within the system) is interesting. It attempts to address gender representation without creating segregated electoral rolls.
Ethnic representation is also discussed: ensuring that both major ethnic groups will continue to have strong representation under proportional rules, and no ethnic group would be marginalised under the proposed system, with regionally distributed constituencies helping ensure local representation.

Political Feasibility & Risk

Even if constitutionally possible, there is a political risk: parties/MPs who benefit from the current system may resist changes that reduce their advantage (e.g. “Superman effect” or large party dominance, where local favorite candidates are overshadowed by party lists).
Also, the drafting of legislation that implements reforms (without violating constitutional constraints) will be complex. Definitions of constituencies, how to do proportional balancing, how to handle thresholds, how to conduct the referendum, etc.

Section 53 is blunt and leaves no interpretive room:

Elections must be conducted “by a multi-member open list system of proportional representation”.
Seats must be awarded in proportion to total votes for each party or independent.
A written law may only prescribe rules that accord with an internationally accepted method of awarding seats within an open list proportional system.

That means:

You cannot carve Fiji into single-member constituencies without tearing out section 53.
You cannot bolt on “popular loser” lists or “hybrid constituencies” unless they still amount to open-list proportional representation.
You cannot re-introduce geographic seats as the determinant of representation; at most you can tinker with the way candidates are presented on the ballot.

So when Narsey argues that the Electoral Law Reform Commission can “creatively” engineer constituency-style representation within the Constitution, he overlooks that s.53 expressly locks in multi-member proportionality. A “single member” model or any pseudo-first-past-the-post element is simply unconstitutional unless repealed.

And repeal requires:

Two-thirds of MPs, and
A referendum for which no enabling legislation yet exists.

Conclusion:

In short, any attempt to reintroduce constituencies, hybrid systems, or single-member models under the 2013 Constitution runs directly into the hard wall of section 53, which entrenches open-list proportional representation with multi-member seats.

Unless and until that section is repealed through both a two-thirds parliamentary majority and a national referendum, Fiji’s electoral system is constitutionally locked into proportionality. Reformers must therefore engage honestly with the constitutional amendment process rather than suggest workarounds that are, in legal effect, unconstitutional.

And so much for Narsey’s “pragmatism v purists” headline, there is nothing “pragmatic” about selling constitutional impossibilities as if they were options.

The Debate Wadan Missed: Why Section 53 Locks the Door on Constituency Politics.

The article by Wadan Narsey in The Fiji Times does not mention s.53 of the 2013 Constitution. So while Narsey talks about the pragmatists vs purists debate, Fijileaks is essentially saying: “Look, 'old fellow traveller', regardless of opinion, the Constitution itself (s.53) makes single-member electorates impossible without a referendum.” We have taken Narsey's political commentary into legal and constitutional detail.

We explicitly cite s.53 of the 2013 Constitution, pointing out that it entrenches multi-member, open-list proportional representation, which by design excludes single-member electorates. We explain that changing this system is not something Parliament can do on its own; it requires a referendum, and we further note the absence of legislation to conduct such a referendum. We also invoke s.54, showing how the Electoral Commission is bound to review Parliament’s composition in terms of proportional representation, not constituencies.

So where Narsey highlights the political debate, we ground his argument in the legal mechanics of the Constitution. We are effectively saying: “Whatever Narsey or others may want, the constitutional text itself makes single-member electorates impossible without a referendum.”

Narsey’s point is that Fiji’s electoral system is not set in stone politically; it’s part of an ongoing debate between stability (pragmatists) and representativeness (purists). The legal analysis of s.53 actually reinforces this: it shows that the only pathway for change is through a referendum. That makes Narsey’s debate real and meaningful, because the people - not Parliament alone - must ultimately decide whether they want constituencies back. His call for open discussion fits with the Constitution’s demand for direct popular consent. In this sense, the constitutional entrenchment of proportional representation makes the public debate unavoidable, which is what Narsey was encouraging.

At the same time, the legal analysis also undercuts Narsey’s argument. While he frames the debate as one between purists and pragmatists, the cold constitutional reality is that purists cannot win without a referendum, and there is currently no law to conduct one. This means the political debate he wants is, at least for now, academic. Parliament cannot simply decide to change the system, nor can political will alone deliver single-member constituencies. Unless enabling referendum legislation is passed, and unless the people vote in favour, Narsey’s purist vision remains impossible. His article doesn’t acknowledge this hard legal barrier, which makes it seem incomplete.

So the two readings go hand-in-hand: Narsey provides the political framing, but the s.53 analysis delivers the constitutional reality check.

And without confronting section 53, the debate risks drifting into abstraction.

This does not mean Narsey’s analysis is irrelevant. In fact, his call for dialogue between pragmatists and purists gains force precisely because of section 53. If change is ever to come, it must be by direct appeal to the people, and the people must be persuaded why constituencies matter. But without acknowledging the legal barrier of section 53, any discussion risks misleading the public into thinking Parliament can act on its own. It cannot.

The real debate, then, is not just whether pragmatists or purists are right in principle. It is whether Fiji is willing to embrace the referendum mechanism the Constitution demands, and whether political leaders have the courage to legislate for it. Until then, section 53 remains the silent but immovable obstacle, the clause Wadan Narsey did not mention, but which none of us can afford to ignore.

Over the last two weeks we have had at least two commentaries on the Supreme Court “Opinion” on questions posed to it by the Coalition Government.

The first (“That Constitution case”, September 6, 2025) was by Munro Leys lawyer Richard Naidu, his law firm also the lawyer for National Federation Party to the Supreme Court sittings. While Richard is usually clear in his writings, his latest article meanders as he delicately avoids revealing his personal views on tricky issues, except for a sentence or two at the end, supporting the Supreme Court Opinion.

The second interesting commentary was by Professor Jon Fraenkel (“The sad death of Fiji’s 1997 Constitution”, September 9, 2025), pretty clear and to the point about the origins of Fiji’s constitutions. While mourning the death of the 1997 Constitution, he asked could Fiji still retain its “multi-racial” co-operation while correcting the existing electoral faults?

Neither article addressed the elephant hiding in the room that Nilesh Lal (CEO of Dialogue Fiji) has cogently pointed out in his article “Fiji’s Parliament, does it still reflect the will of the people?” (Fiji Times August 24, 2025).

Nilesh asks the Fiji public: can the currently constituted Fiji Parliament make constitutional changes with genuine democratic legitimacy that is at the heart of the Supreme Court Opinion?

I would further ask: should not constitutional changes therefore be left till after the 2026/27 election based on the new Electoral System which was recommended two months ago by the independent Fiji Electoral Laws Reform Commission, chaired by former Chief Justice Daniel Fatiaki and comprising Fatiaki, Professor Narsey, Nabou and Brookes?

To recap the Supreme Court Opinion

The Supreme Court fully recognised that in 2006, the Bainimarama coup treasonously removed the Qarase Government democratically elected under the 1997 Constitution, approved by both Houses of Parliament and the GCC.

The Bainimarama government imposed its 2013 Constitution without the extensive public consultations that had been undertaken for the 1997 Constitution or the Yash Ghai Draft Constitution (rejected by the Bainimarama government), without any Parliamentary approval or Referendum.

The 2013 Constitution stipulates rigid rules for amendments: that any change to the 2013 Constitution must require a 75 per cent majority in Parliament and the approval of 75 per cent of registered voters in a referendum.

What the public know is that while the Bainimarama government controlled Parliament for eight years from 2014 to 2022 it never submitted its 2013 Constitution to Parliament for approval.

What the public know is that while the Bainimarama government oversaw elections in 2014, 2018 and 2022, it never implemented a referendum on the 2013 Constitution.
Nevertheless, FFP had a clear pattern of reducing voter turnouts and reducing voter support.

FFP in the elections of:
2014 59 per cent of votes with 85 per cent turnout (i.e support of 50 per cent of registered voters)
2018 50 per cent of votes with 72 per cent turnout (i.e. support of 36 per cent of registered voters)
2022 43 per cent of votes with 68 per cent turnout. (i.e. support of 29 per cent of registered voters).

So while FFP formed government after the 2014 and 2018 elections, they had nowhere near 75 per cent of the MPs in Parliament.

Also it was virtually impossible for FijiFirst party to ever obtain the support of 75 per cent of registered voters: since the best it got was 50 per cent in 2014, and reducing thereafter to 29 per cent in the 2022 elections.

There was therefore no way that the FFP could have obtained approval of the 2013 Constitution according to its own rules for any amendments — requiring three quarters of the MPs in Parliament and 75 per cent of all registered voters.

So the creator of the 2013 Constitution (you know who) told the people of Fiji: “to change a single line of the Constitution I am giving you, you must follow two rules which I never followed myself. Ha ha ha.”

What a sick joke. Except it is no joke for the people of Fiji.

The Supreme Court Opinion

The Supreme Court ruled that:

(a) it could only give an opinion on the questions posed to it if they assumed that the 2013 Constitution was still “effective” i.e. conversely, that the 1997 Constitution was not effective.
(b) despite the “democracy deficit” in the 2013 Constitution, the Supreme Court must respect the “common law of Fiji” — which comprised judge-made law stretching back in time, guiding all of Fiji’s relations in contract, tort, property, trusts, equity and statutory interpretations- the foundations of a “lawful” society.
(c) the people of Fiji had not mounted popular objections to the Bainimarama military government between 2006 and 2014.
(d) on the contrary, the people of Fiji had taken part in three general elections in 2014, 2018 and 2022, with Multinational Observer Groups concluding that the elections were generally credible, despite many deficiencies.
(e) the people and businesses of Fiji and the “Government of the Day” had conducted their business for 13 years (eight under the Bainimarama government and three under the Coalition Government) without any protest against the 2013 Constitution. The Supreme Court opined that these would all be thrown into disarray if the 2013 Constitution were now to be declared as not in existence.

The Supreme Court therefore ruled that the 2013 Constitution had to be recognised as being the “effective” “common law” of Fiji. Pragmatism had reigned supreme over purity of origin.

But it was only because of this victory of pragmatism over idealistic purity, that allowed the Supreme Court to declare that it could now give its opinion on the other questions posed to it by the Coalition Government, particularly the conditions ss 159 and 160 for amendment by parliament.

The conditions for amendments

Following extensive discussions, the Supreme Court concluded that “the right to self-determination of the people of Fiji … includes the right to shape their own constitution as they see fit from time to time”.

While it should not be “easy” for Parliament to amend the constitution, neither should it be totally difficult. The Supreme Court therefore ruled that any amendments could be made with
(a) two thirds (66 per cent) of the Parliament
(b) 50 per cent of a referendum vote conducted by the Electoral Commission.

The Supreme Court decided not to recommend the removal of the “immunity” provisions of the 2013 Constitution that stretched back to the events of the 1987 coup, the 2000 coup and mutiny and the 2006 coup. Hmmmm. Was there any conflict of interest for any of the Supreme Court judges giving the Opinion?

The “Democracy Deficit” in current Parliament

It is surprising that despite the Supreme Court Opinion on the need for parliamentary approval by a majority of two thirds of all MPs, there has been no discussion of the current less than “democratic” representation in Parliament.

The one exception has been an excellent article “Fiji’s Parliament, does it still reflect the will of the people?” (Fiji Times August 24, 2025) by Nilesh Lal (CEO of Dialogue Fiji.

Nilesh Lal points out the fine balance in Parliament after the 2022 elections, between the FFP (26 seats out of 55/with 43 per cent of vote) and the other three parties (PAP, NFP and SODELPA) who just managed to form government by 1 vote on the floor.

But then following the deregistration of FFP and departure of Bainimarama and Khaiyum from Parliament, the then Speaker (current President) made the astonishing ruling allowed the 26 FFP MPs to join any party. Nine of them gave their support to Rabuka, giving Government a totally inflated and artificial majority.

As Nilesh notes, “Fiji’s current Parliament no longer reflects the will of the people as expressed in the last election … without any new election to justify it. The Rabuka-led government today wields power far beyond its electoral mandate … a power obtained through backroom deals and opportunism rather than the ballot box …. [it] can even push through profound changes (like constitutional amendments or major policy reversals) that voters never consented to at the polls. This disconnect strikes at the heart of democratic legitimacy.”

The Fiji public must therefore ask: should this current Parliament be allowed push through constitutional changes or should there be fresh elections first, as are supposed to happen in any case in 2026/2027 under a reformed Electoral System?
Luckily for Fiji, the 2013 Constitution also defined a new electoral system with one national constituency, with proportionality and a 5 per cent rule for parties to qualify for Parliament, greatly criticised by the public. The Coalition Government rightly set out to reform this badly flawed electoral system, with its many democratic deficits.

Electoral Law Reform 2025 and a more democratic Parliament?

In February 2025, Rabuka’s Coalition Government through the Ministry of Justice and the Fiji Law Reform Commission appointed a four-person commission to advise on reform of the much criticised electoral system.

The website of the FLRC today states:

“The final report, titled Fiji Law Reform Commission Electoral Law Review 2025: An Electoral System FOR the People FROM the People, was officially presented to the Acting Attorney-General, Hon. Siromi Turaga, on 8 July 2025. The report marks a significant milestone in Fiji’s journey toward electoral reform and democratic enhancement. The review was conducted with support from the Ministry of Justice, Electoral Commission, Ministry of Women, Ministry of Rural and Maritime Development, Ministry of iTaukei Affairs, Ministry of Information, and the Fijian Elections Office. It included a four-month nationwide consultation across all four divisions and Rotuma. The process featured simulations with political parties, outreach in places of worship, villages, and universities, and materials translated into Vosa Vakaviti, Hindi, and Rotuman — demonstrating Fiji’s commitment to inclusive and participatory policymaking. The Final Report will be made publicly available in due course.”

While I am not at liberty to reveal the report’s details, there have been many media reports on views expressed at these nation-wide consultations (all fully documented in the report with appendices of the Verbatim records) which clearly hint at the contents.
Throughout the country there were many criticisms of the existing one constituency electoral system with its “sudoku” style ballot paper with just hundreds of numbers, not names or pictures or party symbols.

The salient criticisms were: there was no direct link between voters in any area with their MP; the “Superman” effect allowed MPs into parliament with minimal votes while far more popular candidates could not enter parliament because of the 5 per cent threshold; local candidates could not get votes because they were effectively competing with every other candidate in the election (thank you Sukha Singh); effectively no MP could be rejected at the next election for not serving their “constituency”; effectively thousands of voters were disenfranchised, representing more than four MPs in Parliament (the current PM was elected by a margin of one); there was a general desire for more women MPs; and many others (such as removing the climate of fear at election time, all addressed in the detailed changes to the legislations”.

Many sensible voices from the public called for throwing the 2013 Constitution into the dustbin of history, given its dastardly origins.

But the Supreme Court Opinion very pragmatically ruled that the 2013 Constitution is effectively in existence.

While the Electoral Law Reform Commissioners had no inkling of the Supreme Court’s likely Opinion in September, I can reveal that the proposed Electoral System 2025, is in fact abiding by the 2013 Constitution requirements while making radical changes wanted by the Fiji public to strengthen democracy at all levels. In other words, the proposed new 2025 Electoral System is within the bounds of the 2013 Constitution.

Genuine democracy to come?

The proposed system will have numerous “open” constituencies as in the 1997 Constitution in which all ethnic groups will vote and stand as candidates equally.

This draws on Professor Jon Fraenkel’s astute observation that the LITERAL text of the 2013 Constitution only requires ONE ELECTORAL ROLL, NOT ONE CONSTITUENCY.

The FELRC saw the possibility that each local constituency can be easily defined by the Elections Office allocating “polling venues” which are stated in the Voter ID Cards, so no re-registration will be required. This exercise has indeed been easily conducted by the Fiji Elections Office technical staff with the assistance of FELRC Commissioners Daniel Faitiaki and Seini Nabou.

What will the current MPs think?

I suspect many of the current MPs in Parliament will be relieved if they can go and campaign with their personal local constituencies for the next election, instead of relying on some “Superman” who is no longer allowed to stand or simply does not get the hoped for support at the next election.

With no ethnic constituencies, the Proposed 2025 Electoral System will maintain all the benefits of strict proportionality through a List for “popular losers” at the constituency level, with the proportionality complementary to the constituency results.
This proportionality is of course one of the benefits of the current 2013 Electoral System (bar the 5 per cent threshold effect).

One crucial benefit of proportionality in coup-prone Fiji is that given Fiji’s population composition, 63 per cent of the MPs in Parliament will be elected by the iTaukei voters (63 per cent of the total number of voters); likewise, 33 per cent of the MPs in Parliament will be elected by Indo-Fijian voters (33 per cent of the total).

Neither of the major ethnic groups can be marginalised as they were under the 1997 Electoral System, certainly not the iTaukei. I suspect that the 33 per cent of the Indo-Fijian elected MPs will be “king-makers” as currently.

The regionally distributed constituencies will also ensure that all local communities (even small island groups) will have their local MPs in Parliament to serve and be accountable for their local needs or pay the price at the next election. Voters will not have to depend on some distant “Superman”.

While there will be no ethnic constituencies there will be many constituencies reserved for women (but voted for by both men and women) satisfying Fiji’s international CEDAW commitments (reflecting the calls by women’s organisations).

The proposed 2025 Electoral System will not have the “Superman Effect” which Nilesh Lal (CEO of Dialogue Fiji) has correctly (but only lately) criticised since the 5 per cent threshold (which is in the 2013 Constitution) will apply only at the constituency level, with minimal effect.

Government needs Parliamentary Approval

With the Report of the Fiji Electoral Law Reform Commission completed and delivered on 8 July 2025, it would seem that it has every chance of being implemented by the Rabuka Government before the next election which is due in 2026 or before February 2027.

With a totally democratic freshly elected Parliament, the parties will in all probability comprise the same current ones (probably with increased numbers) plus those of the parties of Mr Mahendra Chaudhry and Mr Savenaca Narube (who have been previously unfairly excluded by the 5 per cent threshold rule).

The next Government will then have every democratic authority to propose any amendments to the 2013 Constitution.

I hope that one amendment, also popularly called for by the public, can be the re-establishment of an Upper House in which the GCC could be properly represented.
That would provide a very necessary “checks and balance” mechanism for the elected House of Representatives (the Lower House in the 1997 Constitution), which the current younger generation of voters (post 2006) have no inkling of the value of.

Sitiveni Rabuka will have then come full circle, again, as he did with the assistance of Mr Jai Ram Reddy with the 1997 Constitution.

PROFESSOR WADAN NARSEY is a former Professor of Economics at The University of the South Pacific. The views expressed are his and not of the three other FELRC Members (Daniel Fatiaki, Seni Nabou and Deidre Brookes) nor does it reflect the views of this newspaper. Source: The Fiji Times.

From ICU to Note-Taking: Aiyaz Khaiyum’s Instant Recovery Stuns FIJI. The Irony of It All. "Stroke", Sprint, and Suspicion: His Miracle Recovery and Recusal Circus before Chief Justice Temo. Lets Get On With The Trial

16/9/2025

In his recusal application, Aiyaz-Sayed Khaiyum claims Chief Justice Salesi Temo, while giving evidence in the Pryde Tribunal, had labelled him (Khaiyum) a “controversial figure”, suggesting bias or a predetermined lens. Christopher Pryde, the substantive and then-current DPP, had been suspended by the President on the advice of the JSC, which was chaired by Temo. Pryde was later exonerated by the Tribunal consisting of three Judges.
Khaiyum also says the relationship between Temo and Acting DPP Nancy Tikoisuva is “too close” for comfort, arguing it threatens the presumption of innocence.
CJ Temo’s response? “Taxpayers pay me to work, not sit on my backside.”
He insists he has a duty to ensure a fair trial. Also, being called “controversial” is not always negative, he argued.

Sprinting Up The Steps

*Just weeks ago, Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum was presented as nearly brain-dead - stroke, overseas treatment needed, crisis everywhere. He asked Chief Justice Salesi Temo for permission to fly abroad for medical care. "Dr Temo" said NO.

*Now, with surprising speed, Khaiyum is back in court. Not just sitting. The lawyers requested notepads for him to scribble notes, asked to sit with clients on the bench - signs of being sharp, alert, and engaged.

*You know the behaviours of someone who was supposedly gasping for oxygen just days before, and now 'Miracle Man'

From ICU to Courtroom Stenographer in record time

A miracle recovery if ever there was one.
*Either Fiji has discovered a cure for strokes that eludes the rest of the medical world, or Khaiyum’s courtroom theatrics have finally caught up with reality.

Let me be clear at the outset: I am no fan of Chief Justice Salesi Temo. I have held him to account for years, But even a critic must acknowledge irony when it stares the nation in the face. Because on this occasion, it is not Salesi Temo who looks absurd. It is the former Attorney-General and Minister for Justice Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum.

Act One: The Sick Man of Suva
Only weeks ago, the Chief Justice Temo was told Khaiyum had suffered a "stroke". The narrative was sombre: frail, paralysed, gravely in need of overseas medical intervention. His lawyers begged CJ Temo to permit urgent travel.Temo said no. He rejected the application. Many, including Fijileaks, thought the Chief Justice had gone too far. Surely compassion demanded otherwise.

Act Two: The Miracle Man
And then came the spectacle: Khaiyum, supposedly debilitated, striding up the courthouse steps with the vigour of an athlete. No crutch, no aide, no hesitation. He was running. It was a miracle worthy of Lourdes, the Catholic shrine where the sick claim instant healing. But Khaiyum didn’t need holy waters. His cure came courtesy of CJ Temo’s refusal. One moment, the stroke patient pleads for mercy; the next, the sprinter of Suva. Even those convinced Temo was wrong had to admit: the Chief Justice called the bluff.

Act Three: From Healing to Recusal
Now comes the latest act in the drama: Khaiyum has applied to recuse the Chief Justice from presiding over his trial. The defense claims there is a reasonable apprehension of bias. Here are the main grounds cited, and our comments on each:

1. The “Controversial Figure” Remark

Claim: Temo once described Khaiyum as a “controversial figure” in a public setting.
Comment: And? Calling the architect of Fiji’s most divisive political and legal machinery “controversial” is like calling the Rewa River “wet.” Hardly evidence of bias. Judges are allowed to state the obvious. Khaiyum was running politics like a personal fiefdom, Temo calling it 'controversial' is polite.

2. Relationship with the Director of Public Prosecutions

Claim: Temo is too close to the Acting DPP, Nancy Tikoisuva, undermining arms-length impartiality.
Comment: Judges and prosecutors inevitably cross paths. Professional proximity is not bias. Unless there is evidence of improper collusion, this is smoke without fire.

3. Pattern of Case Assignment

Claim: The Chief Justice kept Khaiyum’s matters for himself, from bail to travel to trial - instead of assigning them out in the ordinary course.
Comment: This is the only argument with any oxygen. If Khaiyum can prove irregular self-allocation, the “fair-minded observer” test might bite. But without hard evidence of deviation from standard practice, it is just another delaying tactic dressed up as principle.

Bias or Bullsh*t?
The legal test is clear: would a fair-minded observer, properly informed of the facts, reasonably apprehend that the judge might not be impartial?

On the medical refusal, adverse rulings don’t equal bias.
On the “controversial” remark, it’s descriptive, not dispositive.
On the relationship with the DPP, it’s flimsy.
Only on the self-allocation issue could the application have legs, but proof is essential - and absent so far.

So let’s call this what it is: not bias, but bullsh*t.

The Real Perception
The perception problem isn’t Temo’s. It’s Khaiyum’s.
The public has eyes. They saw the stroke victim turn into a sprinter. They’ve watched medical affidavits melt in the Suva sun. And now they see cries of bias as just another chapter in the endless script of evasion.
Curtain Call. Fiji has been treated to theatre, not justice. And while I remain no fan of Temo, in this scene, the farce is not his. It is Khaiyum’s.
Lets get on with the trial.

The Charges and Allegations in Brief

Between 1 June 2022 and 31 July 2022, while Supervisor of Elections (a constitutional office holder), Mohammed Saneem allegedly asked Attorney-General Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum for approval for government to pay more than $55,000 in taxes that had accrued on his back pay.
Sayed-Khaiyum allegedly approved this payment/waiver without the Constitutional Offices Commission (COC) and the President giving the necessary authorization.
If true, this would amount to an unauthorized conferral of a financial benefit upon a constitutional office holder.

Without prejudice, the only plausible defence is that Saneem merely asked the FFP government to settle taxes it legitimately owed him. As Acting Prime Minister, Khaiyum could argue he had the authority to approve the payment as an administrative decision, without needing to trigger higher constitutional approval from the COC or the President. Now, let's get on with the trial.

Narsey's Ghost in the Electoral Slot Machine. Leaked Electoral Roadmap That Looks Like His Old FIGHT: 71 MPs, 25 Reserved Women's SEATS, Open Lists. Is this Backdoor Formula to Gift Prasad His 15 Seat Dream?

14/9/2025

Biman’s 15-Seat Dream and Fatiaki–Narsey–Nabou Blueprint to Engineer NFP's Survival and Trap Sitiveni Rabuka and PAP

At a recent private dinner, National Federation Party leader and Finance Minister Biman Prasad reportedly assured his host that NFP would remain in coalition with Sitiveni Rabuka’s People’s Alliance Party (PAP) to fight the next election.

With striking confidence, he added that under the new electoral system being crafted, NFP would win 15 seats.

Wadan Narsey

That boast is no idle brag. It aligns perfectly with the leaked electoral reform report chaired by former Chief Justice Daniel Fatiaki and co-authored by former NFP MP Professor Wadan Narsey, a plan that guarantees NFP’s survival, and locks Sitiveni Rabuka into perpetual coalition dependence.

Seini Nabou, former NFP General Secretary and failed candidate, is tied to the reform discourse, embedding NFP’s political machinery into the project.

The Blueprint: Serving 15 Seats on a Plate

25 Constituencies, each electing two MPs:
- One Open Seat (any candidate).
- One Reserved Seat for Women (RSW).
50 MPs chosen by First-Past-the-Post (FPTP).
21 MPs chosen from a national “Open List” of losing Open Seat candidates, distributed proportionally to parties.
5% threshold: parties failing to cross this barrier are excluded.
De-registration rule: if a party is deregistered, all its MPs lose their seats.
Other proposals: PM term limits, caretaker government rules, blackout reforms, a Referendum Act, and even a revived Senate.

Total Parliament: 71 MPs

For NFP, this system is a gift: it can secure a handful of seats in Indo-Fijian constituencies, then use the losers’ list to parachute failed candidates back into Parliament until it reaches Biman Prasad's ’s magic number of 15 seats.

Rabuka, Don’t Swallow Political Leftovers: A Recipe Cooked by NFP Chefs for Their Own Survival

Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka and his People’s Alliance Party (PAP) now face a critical fork in the political road. On one side is the temptation of a shiny new electoral formula cooked up by Wadan Narsey, Daniel Fatiaki, and Seini Nabou.

On the other side is the path of democratic clarity, simplicity, and stability.

If Rabuka swallows the Narsey–Nabou–Fatiaki concoction, he risks choking on Fiji’s future, and on his own government.

Why Rabuka and PAP should reject it.

It Dilutes PAP’s Strength
PAP is the only party with possible wider reach. The new system would deliberately chop that advantage into fragmented constituencies, ensuring Rabuka can never command a majority again.
It Revives Old Instability
Fiji lived through the coalition chaos of 1999–2006: unstable governments, endless bargaining, opportunistic defections. That instability paved the way for Bainimarama’s 2006 coup. Why would Rabuka want to reopen that door?
It Hands NFP a Free Lunch
The losers’ list ensures that even rejected candidates re-enter Parliament. NFP doesn’t need to persuade voters, the formulas do the work. Biman Prasad gets his 15 seats, served hot.

The Bigger Picture: Legitimacy and Strategy

Yes, Fiji faces a legitimacy crisis after the de-registration of FijiFirst. Yes, the 2013 Constitution’s 75% amendment hurdle is almost impossible to meet. But urgency must not be an excuse for partisan hacks disguised as constitutional housekeeping.

Rabuka, more than anyone, knows the dangers of elite-engineered electoral systems. In 1997, the Joint Parliamentary Committee weakened the Reeves Commission’s inclusive proposals. The result? A flawed system that collapsed under stress. The last thing Fiji needs is a repeat performance - this time cooked up in NFP’s kitchen.

What Rabuka and PAP Should Do Instead

Reject Partisan Recipes
Don’t let NFP insiders dictate the system. Any reform must be transparently led, not family-and-party stitched.
Defend Stability
Fiji needs proportionality, yes but not losers sneaking back and endless coalitions. Keep elections simple, proportional, and voter-driven.
Mainstream Women, Don’t Ghettoise Them
Require party lists to alternate male/female candidates, rather than stuffing women into parallel reserved seats.
Trust Voters, Not Elites
Fiji’s people can handle one clear ballot. They don’t need mathematicians in the backroom cooking their outcomes.

The Sarcastic Truth

This so-called reform is no act of democratic generosity. It’s a cynical banquet where:

Narsey is the chef,
Fatiaki is the waiter,
Nabou sets the table, and
Biman Prasad gets to eat 15 hot seats while everyone else fights for scraps.

If Sitiveni Rabuka and PAP accept this political meal, they will find themselves dining on cold leftovers, while NFP walks away with the feast.

Electoral Commission Proposes Hybrid Constituency Model with Gender Quota: A Step Forward or Recycling Old Flaws?

Extract from Executive Summary (Right)

Structure:

25 local constituencies, modeled after the 1997 Constitution.
Each constituency has two seats:
Open Seat (OS);
Reserved Seat for Women (RSW).

Voting System:

Voters get two ballot papers (one for OS, one for RSW).
MPs elected via first-past-the-post (FPTP).
25 MPs from OS + 25 MPs from RSW = 50 MPs total.

Threshold:

A 5% eligibility threshold applies to both constituencies and parties.

Open List System:

Unsuccessful OS candidates (not RSW) may be placed on the Open List for parties.
Ranking of unsuccessful OS candidates is adjusted by a “standardization process” to equalize vote weight across constituencies of different sizes.

Standardization:

Votes are adjusted mathematically to counterbalance unequal voter populations in constituencies.

Fijileaks Analysis:

Gender Representation:
The Reserved Seat for Women (RSW) attempts to enforce gender balance, a corrective response to male-dominated parliaments. However, confining women to separate “reserved seats” risks entrenching tokenism rather than integrating gender parity across all political contests.
System Complexity:
While FPTP is simple at constituency level, the Open List plus Standardization introduces layers of complexity. Voters may struggle to understand how losing candidates are recycled into proportional representation, undermining transparency and public confidence.

NOTE: Just as the current d'Hondt system has produced MPs with only a few hundred votes through the recyling of losing candidates, the Fatiaki-Narsey-Nabou proposal risks repeating the same democratic deficit. By allowing rejected candidates a second entry point through proportional redistribution, their proposed system entrenches indirect pathways to parliament rather than strengthening voter choice.

Threshold:
The 5% cutoff may exclude smaller parties and independents, consolidating power among larger, well-funded parties.
Exclusion of Women from Open List Recycling:
Restricting “losing candidates” from RSW seats from entering the Open List penalizes women disproportionately. Male candidates have a second chance pathway; women do not. This undermines the equality the system claims to promote.
Resemblance to 1997 System:
While borrowing from the 1997 model, the proposal fails to address Fiji’s historical problems:
- Fragmentation (too many micro-constituencies).
- Disproportionality (FPTP exaggerates winners).
- Ethnic and gender segmentation (reinforced instead of transcended).

Critique

Tokenistic Gender Quotas: Segregating women into reserved contests risks sidelining them, rather than mainstreaming equality.
Voter Confusion: Two ballots, dual counting methods, and mathematical “standardization” are likely to alienate ordinary voters.
Structural Inequality: Excluding RSW losers from the Open List creates a gendered disadvantage.
Entrenchment of Big Parties: The 5% threshold and party-centric Open List recycling marginalize smaller players and independents.
Backward-Looking Design: Instead of learning from the weaknesses of the 1997 Constitution and subsequent electoral failures, this model recycles them with 'lipstick cosmetic' updates.

Overall Judgment:

The proposal reflects a well-meaning but flawed compromise. While it tries to balance constituency representation, gender quotas, and proportionality, it risks perpetuating tokenism, voter confusion, and party dominance.

A more effective model would integrate women equally into all contests, simplify the vote-to-seat translation, and avoid recycling losing candidates into Parliament through backdoor formulas.

Proposed Electoral Reform Risks Entrenching Tokenism While Weakening Democratic Accountability
Extract from Summary Two (Right)

The report outlines recommendations for Fiji’s electoral system:

Parliament Size & Composition

Total 71 MPs.
25 Open Seats (including 5 maritime seats).
25 Reserved Seats for Women (RSWs).
21 Open List Seats (to ensure proportionality nationally).

Electoral System

Proportional open list constituency system (POLCS).
Dual-member constituencies with one open seat plus one reserved seat for women.
Temporary measure of 25 reserved seats for women.

Other Recommendations

5% electoral threshold applies both nationally and to constituencies.
Two ballot papers (one for open seat, one for party list).
Political parties lose all seats if de-registered.
Candidate qualifications include: declaration not relying on 2013 Constitution immunities; mandatory negative drug test.

Fijileaks Analysis

Inclusivity vs Tokenism:
The 25 reserved seats for women appear progressive on the surface, but risk reducing women’s representation to a fixed quota rather than allowing genuine competitiveness. By pairing each open seat with a reserved women’s seat, women may be symbolically included while constrained within a parallel track.
Maritime Representation:
Recognition of 5 (FIVE) maritime constituencies addresses historical under-representation, but only as a subset of the 25 open seats, meaning real weight is limited.
Threshold Issue:
A 5% threshold at both constituency and national level could marginalize small or new parties, potentially centralizing power in a few dominant blocs, contradicting the proportional representation principle.
Party De-registration:
Forcing vacation of seats if a party is de-registered is a blunt tool that penalizes voters and MPs rather than party leadership. This risks undermining the independence of MPs and concentrates control in party machinery.
Candidate Disqualifications:
- The requirement for a declaration renouncing immunity under the 2013 Constitution is politically loaded, clearly aimed at disqualifying certain figures rather than setting neutral eligibility standards.
- The mandatory drug test requirement is unusual, stigmatizing, and arguably disproportionate in relation to parliamentary competence.
Structural Design:
The proposal tries to blend constituency accountability (open seats) with national proportionality (list seats), but layering reserved seats, thresholds, and dual-seat constituencies risks producing a confusing, over-engineered system that voters may not fully understand.

Critique

The reforms appear more engineered for political management than for democratic strengthening.
Women’s representation is framed as a temporary fix, but structured in a way that risks ghettoizing women candidates rather than mainstreaming gender parity.
The 5% dual threshold and party de-registration penalties risk consolidating elite party control, undermining voter choice and representative accountability.
The attempt to introduce proportionality while clinging to constituency dualism creates unnecessary complexity and opacity.
Candidate qualification requirements veer into politically motivated exclusions, undermining fairness.

In short, these reforms create the appearance of inclusivity and fairness (through women’s seats, maritime seats, and proportionality), but in reality, they risk entrenching tokenism, central party control, and political exclusion, while leaving Fiji with a complex and fragile electoral system.

Electoral and Constitutional Reform Roadmap: A Patchwork or a Coherent Vision?

The document (on the right) outlines proposed reforms under three categories:
Voting and Counting

Extended early voting.
Adoption of First Past the Post for constituency seats.
Vote counting at constituency-level centres.

Legislation

A new Referendum Act modeled on Vanuatu’s.
Government-funded constituency offices.
Removal of the “black-out period” and reducing the 300m radius restriction at polling venues.

Constitutional Amendment (Roadmap)

Caretaker government provisions.
Prime Minister term limits and compulsory retirement age.
Regulation of early announcement of election dates.
Entrenching the Constituency Boundaries Commission.
Creating a new, non-politically appointed Senate for cross-cutting issues.

Fijileaks Analysis

Voting and Counting Reforms:

Moving to First Past the Post reverses proportional representation trends and could distort representation, especially in diverse societies. Constituency-level counting may improve transparency but risks fragmentation of results and logistical bottlenecks.

Legislative Reforms:

A Referendum Act could enhance participatory democracy, but reliance on Vanuatu’s model may ignore Fiji’s unique context. (Was Daniel Fatiaki, who served on the Vanuatu Judicial bench after being removed as Chief Justice in Fiji, influential in inserting the Vanuatu Model?)
Government-funded constituency offices risk becoming incumbency perks unless tightly regulated.
Removing the “black-out period” (time where campaigning is banned before voting) could fuel voter manipulation and disinformation in the final hours before polling.

Constitutional Amendments:

Caretaker government provisions are essential to avoid abuse of incumbency during elections.
Prime Ministerial term limits are a major accountability reform, but a compulsory retirement age risks age discrimination and narrowing the talent pool.
Entrenching the Boundaries Commission safeguards against gerrymandering.
A non-political Senate could introduce expertise and cross-cutting perspectives, but may create legitimacy gaps if unelected representatives wield too much influence.

Fijileaks Critique

The proposals appear piecemeal rather than a coherent roadmap. They mix sound democratic reforms (term limits, caretaker provisions, boundaries entrenchment) with regressive or problematic measures (First Past the Post, scrapping blackout periods).

Key flaws:

Representation risk: FPTP undermines inclusivity in a multi-ethnic society.
Accountability gap: Government-funded constituency offices risk becoming political patronage centres.
Legitimacy concerns: A non-elected Senate could be viewed as elitist or anti-democratic unless transparently constituted.
Comparative borrowing: Copying Vanuatu’s referendum model without tailoring to Fiji’s history of coups and contested legitimacy may be naïve.

The roadmap mixes valuable checks on executive power with measures that could entrench incumbency and weaken representative democracy. It needs consolidation into a principled reform package that prioritises transparency, inclusivity, and legitimacy over political expediency.

Engineering Power Balance: How the Electoral Roadmap Could Favour Finance Minister Biman Prasad and NFP

Wadan Narsey (pictured with Biman Prasad) was a Member of Parliament and Shadow Finance Minister for NFP between 1996 and 1999.
Seini Nabou is former NFP general secretary and failed NFP candidate in the 2022 general election.
Dr John Fatiaki, the brother of Daniel Fatiaki, failed to win seat in 2022.
We are not saying these links influenced the recommendations in the Electoral Roadmap, but our overall analysis concludes that NFP stands as its greatest beneficiary with Sitiveni Rabuka and PAP neutered in future elections.

1. First Past the Post (FPTP) Counting for Constituency Seats

Who benefits?
Small but geographically concentrated parties like NFP.
Why?
Under proportional representation (PR), NFP struggles because its total national vote share is small. But under FPTP, a concentrated vote in certain Indo-Fijian constituencies could allow NFP to secure seats far beyond its national vote weight.
Impact on Sitiveni Rabuka and PAP:
PAP relies on broader, less concentrated indigenous support. FPTP could fragment indigenous votes among PAP, SODELPA, and independents, weakening Rabuka.

2. Constituency-Level Counting & Funded Constituency Offices

Who benefits?
NFP MPs, who could dominate certain constituencies and then use state-funded offices as patronage machines to entrench local dominance.
Impact on Rabuka and PAP:
PAP, as a larger party with broader but thinner spread support, may gain less from constituency-level patronage.

3. Removal of the Black-Out Period

Who benefits?
NFP, with disciplined campaign machinery and strong links to Indo-Fijian media networks, could campaign until the last minute, keeping its voters mobilised.
Impact on Rabuka and PAP:
PAP’s rural base is more vulnerable to last-minute misinformation and intimidation without blackout safeguards.

4. Prime Ministerial Term Limit and Compulsory Retirement Age

Who benefits?
Indirectly NFP, because:
- Rabuka (already older) could be forced out earlier, destabilising PAP leadership.
- Opens door for power-broker roles where a smaller coalition partner (like NFP) can extract leverage in leadership transitions.

5. Entrenching the Constituency Boundaries Commission

Who benefits?
Potentially NFP if boundaries are drawn to preserve Indo-Fijian concentration. Once entrenched, boundaries become harder for future governments (like PAP) to change.

6. New Non-Politically Appointed Senate

Who benefits?
A Senate “representative of cross-cutting issues” could be used to insert technocrats aligned with NFP’s ideology (economic liberalism, Indo-Fijian professional elites, NGO sector).
Impact on Rabuka and PAP:
Weakens majority rule, restrains PAP if it gains dominance, and gives NFP a backdoor veto through Senate influence.

Strategic Effect
Put together, the roadmap dilutes Rabuka’s power base and enhances NFP’s leverage:

Rabuka/PAP: Fragmented by FPTP, weakened by compulsory retirement, and limited by Senate oversight.
NFP/Biman Prasad: Gains concentrated seats under FPTP, entrenches presence via funded offices, and secures a Senate pathway to influence policy far beyond their numbers.

Critique
The allegations that this roadmap is designed for Biman Prasad and NFP as kingmakers have merit:

Several proposals (FPTP, constituency offices, scrapping blackout) disproportionately advantage small but concentrated parties like NFP.
The Senate proposal would institutionalise a power-broker chamber where NFP-friendly elites could restrain PAP majorities.
Term limits and retirement rules appear personally tailored to Rabuka’s age and tenure.

While dressed up as neutral “electoral reform,” the roadmap reads like a political engineering project, one that stabilises NFP’s long-term influence and neuters Rabuka’s ability to dominate, ensuring coalition politics where NFP can act as a permanent broker.
To be continued

Professor Vijay Mishra’s new book: V. S. NAIPAUL and World Literature Why Naipaul Still Speaks to Fiji. Indo-Fijians hear indenture’s echo, and in Naipaul’s restless fictions find a mirror of their own exile, dispossession

12/9/2025

Mishra

Mishra's new book on Naipaul

Naipaul

Lal

Naipaul, Mishra, and Me: An Indo-Fijian Reading of V. S. Naipaul and World Literature
Fijileaks Editor's Note:
* I took time out of my busy schedule to read Melbourne-based and Fiji-born Emeritus Professor Vijay Mishra’s new book on Naipaul. My interest is three-fold. First, like Mishra, I share with Naipaul an indenture ancestry: he was from Trinidad, and we are from Fiji, all children of the girmit past.
Second, I have always loved reading Naipaul’s novels.
Third, I am just completing a biography of V. S. Naipaul as a student at Oxford (1950–1954), where he read English Literature.

We break with tradition to revisit the Indo-Trinidadian Nobel laureate Vidiadhar Surajprasad (V. S.) Naipaul. Though he never set foot in Fiji, the themes that run through his novels - migration, indenture, exile, the wounds of colonialism, and the fraught politics of belonging - speak directly to Fiji’s own story.

For Indo-Fijians, his fiction resonates with the legacies of indenture and diaspora. For the iTaukei, his sharp portraits of dispossession, tradition under pressure, and uneasy modernity carry equal weight. It is therefore fitting that Melbourne-based, Fiji-born Emeritus Professor Vijay Mishra has published his new book, V. S. Naipaul and World Literature, placing Naipaul’s work in a global frame that also casts light on Fiji’s contested past and uncertain future.

For Mishra, the story of V. S. Naipaul and World Literature does not begin in the lecture room but in the family home. As a young man in Fiji, Mishra read passages of A House for Mr Biswas aloud to his mother, herself the granddaughter of indentured labourers. The novel’s haunting word - “unaccommodated” - struck her like a truth from her own life. Plantation descendants in Trinidad or Fiji knew what it meant to live without secure homes, without recognition, and always struggling for dignity. That moment of recognition became the seed for Mishra’s lifelong engagement with Naipaul.

Mishra’s new book, V. S. Naipaul and World Literature, grows out of that encounter. It is part memoir, part literary criticism, and part meditation on what it means for displaced communities like Indo-Fijians and Indo-Caribbeans to find themselves in Naipaul’s often harsh mirror.

The book opens with a prologue, “The Tears of Things,” where Mishra recalls how Naipaul’s writing touched the deepest nerves of memory and loss in families like his own. From there, he guides readers through Naipaul’s work and reputation.

Mishra closes by reflecting on Naipaul’s contested legacy. For some, his prejudices overshadow his art; for others, his honesty defines his greatness. Mishra argues for reading Naipaul within a critical universal humanism, a framework that acknowledges his contradictions but recognizes the extraordinary unity he gave to world literature through his exploration of displacement, memory, and survival.

Naipaul was difficult, controversial, often offensive but also brilliant. He gave voice to the struggles and contradictions of people like us, shaped by migration, loss, and displacement. Whether we claim him or reject him, Naipaul’s work forces us to face uncomfortable truths about history, identity, and belonging.

Mishra’s V. S. Naipaul and World Literature is dense, theoretical, and uncompromising, but also profoundly moving. It speaks to us because it speaks of us. And it confirms that Indo-Fijians, like our Trinidadian cousins, are not shadows in someone else’s history. We are authors of the world’s literature.

For Fijileaks readers reference, we have reproduced at the end of this article an academic review of Vijay Mishra's V. S. Naipaul and World Literature (Cambridge University Press, 2024), written by Nivedita Misra in the Journal of West Indian Literature.

Chosen by Fijileaks Editor with Commentary: How Naipaul's Novels Speak Directly to Indo-Fijians Lived Experiences in Fiji and in Diaspora

A House for Mr Biswas: An Indo-Fijian Mirror

When V. S. Naipaul published A House for Mr Biswas in 1961, he gave the world a masterpiece about one man’s struggle for dignity in colonial Trinidad. But for Indo-Fijians, the novel has always read like a mirror. Mr Biswas, awkward, stubborn, perpetually at odds with family and society, could just as easily have been one of our own girmitiya grandfathers, chasing the dream of owning land, a house, and with them, independence.

The struggle for a house. the struggle for belonging

In the novel, the house is not just a shelter. It is the symbol of autonomy in a world that keeps Mr Biswas marginal within his wife’s domineering Tulsi clan, and within the wider colonial society where Indians were second-class. Indo-Fijians know this script by heart. Our grandparents cut cane, saved pennies, and built tin-roof homes in Labasa, Ba, and Nausori, fragile sanctuaries that represented more than property. They were declarations: we are here to stay.

Humour, humiliation, survival

Mr Biswas’s life is a comedy of errors - jobs lost, money squandered, houses collapsing. Yet his story is also tragic: a life lived on the edge of respectability, constantly battling to assert selfhood. Indo-Fijians, too, have carried this ambivalence. Successes built from struggle sit beside humiliations imposed by politics, coups, and discrimination. The novel’s tone, at once funny and heartbreaking, feels like the texture of Indo-Fijian life itself.

The Tulsi clan and Indo-Fijian extended families

Naipaul’s portrait of the suffocating Tulsi household - sprawling, quarrelsome, bound by ritual and debt - resonates deeply with Indo-Fijians raised in multigenerational homes where privacy was scarce, obligations endless, and escape only possible through education, migration, or stubborn rebellion. Many Indo-Fijian readers have seen their own families in the Tulsis: protective, oppressive, nurturing, stifling.

A universal story of the girmitiya legacy

At its heart, A House for Mr Biswas is the story of an indentured descendant trying to carve out a life of dignity against history’s weight. This is why Indo-Fijians read it not as “foreign” but as our own. Mr Biswas could have been a cane cutter in Seaqaqa, a clerk in Lautoka, or a schoolteacher in Nadi. His small victories and bitter defeats echo our own struggle for a place in Fiji, to build a house, to hold onto land, to insist that our lives matter.

Why it still matters

For Indo-Fijians today, A House for Mr Biswas is more than literature. It is a parable of our condition. Even after 140 years in Fiji, we are still fighting for recognition, for security, for the right to call our houses home. Naipaul captured this universal diasporic longing in Trinidad, but through Mishra’s reading of Naipaul, we can see how the same longing animates Indo-Fijian life.

This is why Mishra’s book, and Naipaul’s novel before it, continue to resonate. They remind us that the story of one obstinate man in Trinidad is also the story of a whole people in Fiji, still wrestling with belonging, still building, still dreaming of houses that will not fall.

A Bend in the River and Sitiveni Rabuka’s racist and ethno-nationalist 1987 Coups: The Indo-Fijian Parallel

When V. S. Naipaul set A Bend in the River (1979) in an unnamed African country, likely inspired by the Democratic Republic of Congo (known as Zaire from 1971 to 1997 under dictator Mobutu Sese Seko), he was writing not only about Central Africa but about the postcolonial condition everywhere: fragile states, predatory elites, and the perpetual uncertainty of minorities caught in the middle.

For Indo-Fijians reading after 1987, the novel A Bend in the River, became eerily familiar.

The world after independence

Naipaul’s narrator, Salim, is an Indian-African trader whose family had migrated inland from the Indian Ocean coast. When the new African strongman seizes power, Salim’s community, tolerated under colonialism, useful as traders, but never fully accepted, finds itself despised, scapegoated, and vulnerable.

In 1987, Indo-Fijians recognised this script, atleast those having read Naipaul's books. After years of building Fiji’s economy and education system, they were suddenly branded “usurpers” by Sitiveni Rabuka’s coup. Like Salim in Naipaul’s Congo, Indo-Fijians discovered that citizenship could be revoked overnight by the politics of race and the violence of the gun.

The dictator’s rhetoric and Rabuka’s decrees

Naipaul’s dictator demands loyalty through slogans and ritual displays of “authenticity.” Rabuka, too, justified his coups by invoking “indigenous rights” and a distorted vision of tradition. Both regimes rewrote constitutions to enshrine exclusion, making minorities foreigners in the only home they knew.

Looting the state

Mobutu’s Zaire became infamous for what the World Bank itself called “kleptocracy”, the systematic looting of state resources by a narrow elite. Naipaul sketches this reality in A Bend in the River: roads crumbling, projects abandoned, the country collapsing while the ruler’s circle grew fat.

Fijians saw their own version under Rabuka. The National Bank of Fiji scandal of the early 1990s was nothing less than a state-sanctioned plunder by iTaukei elites. Loans were handed out to political cronies, debts were never repaid, and the taxpayer was left to foot the bill. Just as Mobutu’s Zaireans were told to be loyal while their future was stolen, Indo-Fijians and ordinary iTaukei alike watched a bank collapse under the weight of corruption dressed up as “indigenous empowerment.”

The exile’s dilemma

Salim’s choice in A Bend in the River is stark: remain in a land that rejects him, or migrate again, rootless, stateless, forever starting over. Indo-Fijians faced the same dilemma after 1987. Tens of thousands fled Fiji for Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the United States. Those who stayed lived under a cloud of insecurity, watching land leases expire and opportunities shrink.

A lesson for Indo-Fijians

Naipaul captured the essence of survival in a world of uncertainty:

“You are nobody if you allow yourself to be treated as nobody.”

For Indo-Fijians, that was the warning of 1987. To accept silence, to accept erasure, was to accept nonexistence. Migration, resistance, education, and persistence became the ways of refusing to be “nobody.”

Naipaul’s Congo and Rabuka’s Fiji may be continents apart, but the Indo-Fijian reading of A Bend in the River is unavoidable. Both expose the precariousness of diasporic communities in postcolonial states where belonging is contested. Both show how elites can plunder a nation while preaching nationalism. The novel, like our own history, asks the same question: when the river bends, who gets swept away, and who insists on being somebody?

The Enigma of Departure: Indo-Fijians, Exile, and the Search for Belonging. From Naipaul to Nadi: How Indo-Fijians Live the Enigma of Departure

When V.S. Naipaul published The Enigma of Arrival in 1987, he offered a deeply personal meditation on exile, estrangement, and the unsettled identity of the colonial migrant. Set in the English countryside, the novel portrays the migrant’s uneasy arrival in a world at once alien and oddly familiar, where belonging is always partial and identity forever fractured. It is a work suffused with quiet melancholy: the stranger walks among layered histories of empire, class, and cultural estrangement, never quite at home.

For Indo-Fijians, the resonance is striking. 1987 was also the year that their own “enigma of departure” began. The military coups led by Sitiveni Rabuka shattered Fiji’s fragile democracy and unleashed ethnic politics that made Indo-Fijians, descendants of indentured labourers brought from India between 1879 and 1916, feel unwanted in the land their families had tilled for more than a century. Facing insecurity, discrimination, and periodic eruptions of violence, tens of thousands departed: cane farmers from Ba resettled in Auckland, schoolteachers from Suva found classrooms in Sydney, and shopkeepers from Lautoka rebuilt their lives in Toronto and Vancouver.

Naipaul’s narrative speaks uncannily to this experience. His arrival in Wiltshire mirrors the Indo-Fijian arrival in Auckland, Sydney, or Vancouver: a place of refuge but also of cultural estrangement. Settling abroad was never only about safety or opportunity; it was also about negotiating identity, carrying Fiji in memory while adapting to new lands that often failed to recognise the layered histories of Indo-Fijian life.

In The Enigma of Arrival, the narrator reflects on the slow erasure of old ways in the English countryside, a process of transition and decay. For Indo-Fijians abroad, a similar process has unfolded: the fading of a once-vibrant Fiji-Hindi culture, the gradual loss of plantation songs, dialects, and rituals transplanted from India and transformed in the South Pacific. Exile brought security, but at the price of cultural thinning. Children grew up speaking English or accented Hindi, knowing Fiji more through their parents’ nostalgia than their own lived experience.

Yet Naipaul also gestures toward renewal. The unsettled stranger eventually makes meaning in a new place, even if permanence never fully takes root. Indo-Fijians abroad echo this journey: remaking community through temples in Auckland, mandalis in Toronto, kava gatherings in Brisbane, and diaspora literature that continues to grow. The act of departure carried loss, but also the possibility of new beginnings.

By sheer coincidence, Naipaul’s Enigma of Arrival appeared in print just as Indo-Fijians were living their own enigma of departure. His meditation on displacement illuminates a paradox that continues to define the Indo-Fijian diaspora: to arrive elsewhere is always to depart forever; to find safety abroad is also to lose a homeland.

Shadows of Empire: Naipaul, India, and the Indo-Fijian Condition

When V.S. Naipaul published An Area of Darkness in 1964, it unsettled readers in India and the diaspora alike. It was his first account of travelling to the ancestral homeland, and what he found was not a place of renewal but of dislocation. Poverty, bureaucracy, superstition, and decay.

Naipaul wrote with a sharp eye, exposing a reality that was jarred with the myths of India carried in migrant memory. For many Indo-Fijians, descendants of indentured labourers brought to Fiji between 1879 and 1916, his reflections cut close to the bone.

Though our forebears left India decades before Naipaul’s journey, they carried with them a remembered India - villages, rituals, dialects, a sense of civilisation interrupted by the colonial project of indenture. In Fiji, this memory was reshaped under the sugar plantations, where the British constructed a new social order: contracts binding labour, overseers wielding power, and communities fractured by distance from home. Reading An Area of Darkness, Indo-Fijians could recognise the disjunction Naipaul described, the gulf between an imagined homeland and the harsh realities of life under colonial systems.

By the time Naipaul published India: A Wounded Civilization in 1977, Fiji itself was still under the long shadow of British rule. Independence had come only in 1970, but the structures of colonialism lingered: land tenure laws that excluded Indo-Fijians from ownership of most agricultural land, political institutions designed to balance ethnic communities while never granting full equality, and an economic system that kept cane farmers dependent and vulnerable. Naipaul’s book, a searing critique of India’s failures after independence, spoke indirectly to Fiji’s own postcolonial anxieties. If India, with its size and resources, could stumble under the burden of history and tradition, what of small, divided Fiji?

Naipaul’s idea of a “wounded civilization” resonates with the Indo-Fijian story. Our community bore the wounds of indenture: families torn from ancestral villages, languages hybridised and ridiculed, faith reshaped in the barracks and cane fields. Under British colonialism in Fiji, Indo-Fijians occupied a paradoxical position- indispensable to the sugar economy yet denied full political and cultural recognition.

Like Naipaul’s India, we were shaped by history’s injuries, and those wounds continued to bleed into the politics of the 1970s and 1980s.

For Indo-Fijians, Naipaul’s works are more than distant critiques of India. They are mirrors, sometimes harsh, sometimes unflattering of what it means to inherit displacement. We know what it is to live with memory that is both anchor and burden. We know the ache of never quite belonging: in India, where we are seen as strangers; in Fiji, where our loyalty is questioned; abroad, where we become migrants once again.

And yet, as Naipaul himself embodied, exile does not mean silence. From the fragments of history and the pain of dislocation, Indo-Fijians have built new worlds: schools, temples, mandalis, unions, literature. If our civilisation is wounded, it is also resilient.

Naipaul’s early works remind us that colonialism leaves deep scars on nations, on communities, on memory. For Indo-Fijians, still navigating the legacies of British rule, they are an invitation to reflect on how far we have travelled, and how the shadows of empire continue to shape our journey.

Victor Lal’s Upcoming Book on Naipaul:
V.S. Naipaul - The Oxford Student, 1950-1954

Fijileaks is pleased to inform readers that its founding Editor-in-Chief is completing a full-length manuscript exploring the formative years of V. S. Naipaul at Oxford University (1950–1954). Long before he became one of the most celebrated and controversial literary voices of the twentieth century, and a Nobel Prize winner in Literature, Naipaul was an uncertain undergraduate at Oxford, struggling with questions of identity, exile, and vocation.

Based on his University College student file, his personal archives at the University of Tulsa in Oklahoma, intimate family correspondence, and other relevant materials, the forthcoming study brings together for the first time the materials that illuminate Naipaul’s Oxford years and the beginnings of his literary voice. The book also incorporates other archival collections, contemporary accounts, and unpublished sources to offer the most comprehensive picture yet of how a young student gradually transformed into the groundbreaking writer who would reshape postcolonial literature.

Ultimately, the study traces how Naipaul, born into a family of descendants of Indian indentured labourers, became the first person of such heritage to win the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2001.

From Journal of West Indian Literature

V.S. Naipaul's childhood home in Port of Spain is located at 26 Nepaul Street, St. James, and is now a heritage site known as Naipaul House.
It was from this house, he accepted the offer to study at Oxford in 1950.

RATU EPELI NAILATIKAU. Killed by Rumour, Resurrected by My Reliable Sources. The Ex-Pressie Lives On. How I Almost Buried My OLD Friend Before My Morning Breakfast until a source, "Bro, late Pressie is ALIVE"

11/9/2025

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Ratu Epeli Nailatikau

This morning (Oxford time, 11/9/25), I woke up, or rather was shaken awake, to the “news” that an old friend of mine had died. For a few moments, the weight of grief settled in.

I even began mentally drafting his obituary, recalling the small stories and quiet jokes we’d shared over five decades.

Then my instinct kicked in: trust, but verify. So, instead of lighting a candle, I picked up the phone and sent Viber and WhatsApp (Whats Up) messages to a few of my most reliable sources. Within minutes, the “late” Ratu himself was confirmed to be very much alive and kicking, possibly having his dinner while social media was busy burying him.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone killed off prematurely by rumour, and it certainly won’t be the last. In our age of instant information, a whisper becomes a headline faster than you can fact-check it. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: until you’ve seen the official announcement, or at least heard it from the horse’s mouth, keep your obituary drafts in the drawer. For now, I can assure you my friend is still among the living. And probably laughing at how many of us nearly started mourning him over breakfast.

Reports of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated
From Alfred Nobel to Donald Trump to Epeli Nailatikau

There are few things in life more certain than death. Except, perhaps, the persistent human tendency to announce it prematurely.

From the 19th century to today, history is littered with spectacular cases where powerful figures - scientists, politicians, kings, presidents - have been declared dead by overeager reporters, pranksters, or well-meaning relatives, only to rise from the ashes of rumour and politely (or not) inform the world that they are still very much alive.

This week, Fiji joined that long and colourful tradition when social media and certain broadcasters rushed to report the death of former President Ratu Epeli Nailatikau, a statesman, soldier, and diplomat whose influence continues to shape Fiji’s political landscape.

The problem? Ratu Epeli is alive. And his lawyers have filed a police complaint against those responsible, accusing them of publishing false, misleading, and grossly incorrect statements.

Welcome to the eternal theatre of premature obituaries, where fact and fiction collide, reputations get bruised, and history occasionally gets rewritten.

Alfred Nobel: The Man Who Read His Own Obituary

The most famous case of all belongs to Swedish chemist Alfred Nobel, inventor of dynamite and namesake of the Nobel Prizes. In 1888, when Nobel’s brother Ludvig died in Cannes, a French newspaper confused the brothers and published Alfred’s obituary instead. Its headline was brutal:

“Le marchand de la mort est mort”

“The merchant of death is dead.”

The obituary condemned Nobel for inventing explosives that killed thousands.

Shaken by the experience of reading his own public condemnation, Nobel rewrote his will. His fortune would go on to fund the Nobel Prizes, awarded annually to individuals “who have conferred the greatest benefit to humankind.”

Ironically, a false death report gave birth to one of the world’s most prestigious institutions. Not every premature obituary ends so constructively.

Mark Twain: The Witty Resurrection

In 1897, rumours circulated that the great American humorist Mark Twain had died. Newspapers published tributes. Fans mourned. Twain, upon learning of his “death,” famously quipped: “The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

The line became legendary, a reminder that truth can be stranger than fiction, and fiction has a bad habit of outrunning the facts.

Donald Trump: #TrumpIsDead

Fast forward to the 21st century and add Twitter or “X” into the mix.

Lately, the hashtag #TrumpIsDead trended worldwide after a series of coordinated posts falsely claimed that the former U.S. President Donald Trump had passed away.

Memes flooded social media, some mournful, others gleefully celebratory. Conspiracy theories sprouted overnight. Newsrooms scrambled, unsure whether to publish, retract, or wait.

The result? A digital wildfire and a furious Trump, who returned to his social platform to declare: “I’m alive, well, and stronger than ever. Fake news!”

In the age of social media, death rumours have gone global, faster, louder, and harder to contain than ever before.

Ratu Epeli Nailatikau: Fiji’s Turn on the Stage

And now, Fiji finds itself in this age-old drama.

Recent online posts and radio segments attributed to individuals including Alex Forwood, Rajendra Chaudhry, and Radio Tarana, and many other social bloggers, claimed that Ratu Epeli Nailatikau, the respected but controversial former President of Fiji, had died.

Condolences began pouring in. Public figures reacted. Some prepared tributes.

But there was one small problem: Ratu Epeli isn’t dead.

His lawyers, from Lawyers and Legal Consultants, moved quickly, filing a police complaint alleging that the claims were “false, incorrect, and grossly misleading.”

It’s a reminder that in the Fijian context, where politics, status, and identity are deeply intertwined, declaring a high chief and statesman dead without cause is not just careless journalism. It can be a cultural affront, a legal hazard, and potentially a political act.

Unlike Alfred Nobel, Ratu Epeli probably won’t rewrite his will. But he might just help rewrite Fiji’s approach to digital responsibility and the legal consequences of spreading unverified death claims.

The Anatomy of a Premature Death Rumour

What do Nobel, Twain, Trump, and Ratu Epeli have in common?

Speed beats accuracy: Newsrooms and social media alike rush to “break” a story.
Echo chambers amplify chaos: One post becomes ten, becomes a hundred, becomes trending news.
Emotion outruns verification: Condolences start before confirmation.
Reputations get bruised: Even false death reports can carry legal and cultural consequences.

In the digital age, the old newsroom mantra - “Better to be right than first”- has been flipped on its head. Now it’s: “Better to be first, and we’ll fix it later.”

But for the living subjects of these false obituaries, the consequences aren’t so easily fixed.

Fiji’s Digital Crossroads

This incident also raises questions for Fiji:

Should digital misinformation laws be tightened?
Do police complaints like Ratu Epeli’s set a precedent for future prosecutions?
And how should broadcasters like Radio Tarana balance speed with responsibility in the social media era?

In a small nation where reputations are magnified, and politics are never far away, the answers aren’t simple.

In the words of Mark Twain, Ratu Epeli might well say:

“Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”

But unlike Twain’s era, where rumours travelled by telegram, today they spread at the speed of a single click.

And in an age where a tweet can upend markets, politics, and personal lives, Fiji now stands at the frontier of a deeper question: When misinformation meets culture and law, who owns the truth?

However, if the individuals can show:

They acted reasonably,
Relied on what they believed to be credible information,
And promptly corrected or deleted their statements,
then liability would be limited.

And perhaps even forgiven by my old life-long chiefly friend.

"No man knows when his hour will come." Ecclesiastes 9:12 (Except Bloggers)

From Fijileaks Archive, 15 January 2022: Ratu Epeli NOT Fiji's FIRST

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The $660,000 Riddle. 'Woe Unto the Keeper of the Purse: Michael Mausio, When the Books Are Opened, Where Shall the $660,000 Be Found?'. He paid only $400,000 to Fiji Airways from the $1.8m he got from 'PILGRIMS'

10/9/2025

Blessed Are They Who Paid for the Journey But Michael Mausio, Where Dwell Their Shekels Now? Have these 'Freeloaders' Paid Up, Now?

CRY Aloud and Spare Not: Let Justice Flow Like a River. Fiji Police Must Uncover the Missing $660,000 from the Jerusalem Charter Flight.

The hand of prophecy cannot cover the stench of secrecy. Fiji Airways remains burdened with a $3million debt from the controversial Jerusalem charter flight, yet the mystery deepens: $660,000 has vanished: funds raised, pledged, or promised for the so-called "Holy Mission", but now unaccounted for. Michael Mausio must be questioned by Fiji Police to establish where has the $660,000 gone?

From Fijileaks Archive, 5 February 2024

The list below was provided by the charterer Pacific Voyager to Fiji Airways before the flight to Israel.
And it marked the names of those who had still not paid up in YELLOW.
*We have redacted their Passport Numbers and Date of Births

SODELPA leader and Minister for Education Aseri Radrodro has stressed that the party did not participate in any travel arrangements with respect to the chartered flight to Israel in September, 2023.
This comes as Fiji Airways is taking legal action to recover payments from the commercial charter arrangement and Fiji Labour Party claims Deputy Prime Minister and Tourism Minister Viliame Gavoka’s name had been closely associated with the entire sordid affair and some top ranking people in SODELPA and the People’s Alliance were on the charter flight and had not paid their fares
While responding to questions by fijiivillage News, Radrodro says if there were some SODELPA Party members that traveled, then they have to be individually liable for their own fares. Fijivillage News, 10 September 2023

September 2023. Mudreilagi ready for the 'Pilgrim Flight'

The High Court in Suva this week heard a bid by two defendants in the Air Pacific Ltd (trading as Fiji Airways) Jerusalem charter flight case to have the claims against them struck out.

Ana Soqeta and S. Tawakevou, who are among five people named as third defendants in the case, are challenging the claims, which relate to outstanding costs sought by the airline.

Their lawyer, Aca Rayawa, told the court yesterday (9 September 2025) that two of the four International Christian Embassy Jerusalem (ICEJ) Fiji branch members named in the lawsuit, Viliame Gonelevu and A. Kunanitu, are deceased.

His clients—Soqeta and Tawakevou, the only remaining trustees—did not authorise or participate in signing the flight agreement, while a fifth individual named Mikaele Mudreilagi, who did sign it, is not a registered trustee.

Rayawa argued there is no cause of action against his clients, as they were not passengers, did not authorise the transaction, and had no involvement in the agreement.

The Lost Silver
Thirty Pieces Times Twenty-Two: Michael Mausio, Whither Goeth the $660,000 Tithe of the Faithful?

As Israel Bombs Qatar, The Country That Saved Our Soldiers for Free, Fiji Opens Embassy in West Jerusalem Next Week. Rabuka will be joined by RFMF Commander Jone Kalouniwai and Defence Minister TIKODUADUA

9/9/2025

In a stunning twist of diplomatic irony, Fiji will proudly open its new embassy in Jerusalem next week, complete with ribbon-cutting, bula shirts and skirt, and photo ops, just as Israel bombs Qatar, the Gulf state that once negotiated the release of 45 kidnapped Fijian UN peacekeepers from Al Nusra in 2014 without demanding a single cent.

Yes, the same Qatar that quietly worked back channels to free our soldiers while Canberra was warning Suva not to trust Doha because of its alleged ties to Al Nusra, is now being pummelled by Israel, and Fiji appears blissfully unbothered.

Back in 2014, Australians had urged Fiji to deal via Jordan instead, insisting Qatar was too close to the kidnappers. But Fiji went its own way, and it worked:

“I knew the Qataris better,” said one of the negotiators at the time, the former Ambassador Robin Nair, crediting Doha’s intervention for securing the release without ransom or concessions.

And yet, despite being rescued from a potential international humiliation, and possible accusations of funding terrorists, Fiji never sent Doha so much as a “vinaka vakalevu”.

Fast-forward to 2025, and Fiji’s diplomatic memory seems shorter than a ministerial statement. With Qatar now accused of harbouring Hamas leaders, Israel has unleashed airstrikes on Doha, and Fiji has chosen this precise moment to stand on Israel’s red carpet, opening an embassy in Jerusalem, a move that many of our traditional partners in the Middle East view as deeply provocative.

Burning Bridges, One Embassy at a Time

This is not just symbolism. For years, Qatar has wielded influence far beyond its size, acting as a discreet fixer in hostage negotiations across the Middle East, from Syria to Gaza. Fiji has benefited directly from that quiet power once before.

But what happens next time?

What if, heaven forbid, another group of Fijian soldiers deployed on UN missions in the Middle East are taken hostage?

Who will answer the phone in Doha after next week’s embassy launch? Will Qatar, bombed by Israel and snubbed by Suva, still lift a finger to save us?

As one regional analyst put it bluntly:

“Fiji has a habit of forgetting who its friends are. In 2014, Qatar was our lifeline. In 2025, we’re aligning ourselves with the very country bombing it. That’s not diplomacy. That’s geopolitics on kava.”

Right Place, Wrong Time

The Coalition government will, of course, frame next week’s ceremony as a bold foreign policy move, strengthening ties with Israel and “standing with democracy”. But to many watching from the Middle East, it looks less like strategic positioning and more like strategic amnesia.

One decade, Doha saved us from paying millions to terrorists, and saved 45 lives.

The next, we open an embassy in Jerusalem as Israel bombs Doha.

Somewhere in Qatar, a diplomat is still waiting for a “thank you” email that will never come.

And maybe, just maybe, the next time Fiji needs a miracle, the silence on the other end of the line will be deafening.

From Fashion Runways to Runaway Excuses: Michael Mausio’s $10K Pilgrimage Dream Turns Into a $10M Blame Game. If 170+ passengers paid $10,000 each, that’s over $1.8 million collected. Where's the money?

8/9/2025

And how much did Sole & Semi Tukana's 'Go Fund Me' raise for Mausio?

According to Mausio's Facebook:
*Ex-Fiji Airways crew allegedly flew for as little as $1,000 return.
Relatives of airline staff supposedly flew back for free.
Government officials travelling privately didn’t pay.
The Fiji Government allegedly used the return flight as a repatriation but refused to cover costs, leaving Fiji Airways demanding settlement.
Some passengers under the main client never paid at all.

"Flight Pilgrim" Semi Tukana

Michael Mausio has broken his silence on Facebook, posting an emotional defence of his failed Fiji–Israel charter flight project. Semi Tukana and others have reproduced it on their own Facebook sites.

What Mausio frames as a visionary plan to turn Fiji into a “regional hub for religious tourism” has instead spiraled into legal battles, unpaid bills, and finger-pointing, with Mausio blaming everyone but himself.

According to Mausio, his dream was simple: organize a Fiji Airways charter to Israel, create a five-year plan for pilgrimages, and position Fiji as a regional gateway. Deposits rolled in. He claims 170+ passengers paid $10,000 each, and the September 29, 2023, flight to Tel Aviv took off successfully.

But behind the Instagram-perfect launch, Mausio’s Facebook “confession” paints a messy picture of chaotic finances, mismanagement, and blurred lines between private and public responsibility.

The Blame List

In his posts, Mausio lays the groundwork for a “not my fault” narrative:

Ex-Fiji Airways crew allegedly flew for as little as $1,000 return.
Relatives of airline staff supposedly flew back for free.
Government officials travelling privately didn’t pay.
The Fiji Government allegedly used the return flight as a repatriation but refused to cover costs, leaving Fiji Airways demanding settlement.
Some passengers under the main client never paid at all.

In short, Mausio portrays himself as an innocent victim of freeloaders, bureaucratic betrayal, and divine misfortune.

October 7 and the “Perfect Storm”

Central to Mausio’s story is the eruption of the Israel–Hamas war on October 7, 2023. He claims the group “crossed Gaza just a day before the violence,” but as war broke out, churches withdrew, financiers panicked, and the government intervened.

“The government stepped in to repatriate nationals on the planned return flight, took the credit with speeches and ceremonies, but refused to settle the bill,” Mausio alleges.

This, he says, triggered a “deed of forbearance” with Fiji Airways, collapsing his financing and killing a five-year plan he had marketed to Pacific churches across Samoa, Tonga, Solomon Islands, Vanuatu, and Fiji.

Money, Mystery, and Missing Accountability

What Mausio doesn’t explain:

If 170+ passengers paid $10,000 each, that’s over FJ$1.8million collected. Where did the money go?
If Fiji Airways only issued the final signed charter agreement in September, why were passengers sold packages long before a secured deal existed?
Why wasn’t the financial risk insured or secured before promoting multi-year “pilgrimage charters” to the Pacific’s churches?
Why is there no independent audit of passenger funds versus Fiji Airways’ outstanding claims?

Instead, Mausio’s narrative pivots to emotional appeals: claims of being called a conman, suffering depression, and almost contemplating suicide. While sympathetic on a human level, these confessions sidestep the hard financial questions Fiji Airways, passengers, and creditors might have.

The Curious Role of the Fiji Government

Mausio directly accuses the Fiji Government of using his charter for free political mileage:

“They took the credit publicly but refused to cover the bill of the repatriation flight. Fiji Airways still insisted the client owed.”

If true, this raises questions:

Did the Rabuka coalition government appropriate a private charter without settling its obligations?
Was there an under-the-table understanding between government officials and Fiji Airways?
Or is Mausio exaggerating government involvement to deflect liability?

Without documented agreements, Mausio’s claims remain allegations but serious ones that deserve scrutiny.

From Catwalk to Cockpit: A Risky Pivot

Mausio proudly reminds followers of his background: designer for House of Mausio, engineer by trade, and a “dreamer” willing to take bold risks.

But his Facebook account of the saga shows textbook project mismanagement:

Late contracts signed weeks before departure.
Unsecured financing dependent on full passenger payments and future bookings.
Reliance on Pacific churches’ goodwill for multi-year deals without formal commitments.
Absence of financial transparency while already promoting 2024, 2025, and 2026 charters.

The result? A high-stakes gamble that collapsed spectacularly when real-world geopolitics intervened.

The “Martyr” Narrative

Mausio closes his posts on a defiant, almost spiritual note:

“I’ve been called a conman, dragged online, driven into depression, even close to suicide. But my faith grew stronger. I learned that taking risks will always draw critics, but I’d rather fail boldly than die asking ‘what if?’”

But behind the motivational soundbites, Mausio’s Facebook saga inadvertently raises serious red flags:

Potential misrepresentation to passengers and partners.
Possible unpaid obligations to Fiji Airways and creditors.
Alleged government freeloading on a private charter deal.

Fijileaks Verdict

Michael Mausio may see himself as a visionary entrepreneur derailed by war, government politics, and unpaid clients. But his own posts reveal a different story: a project built on thin contracts, overextended promises, and shaky financing, now buried under lawsuits and finger-pointing.

Until Mausio produces audited figures, signed agreements, and proof of government liability, his “full story” looks less like a heroic tale and more like a $10K pilgrimage dream gone spectacularly wrong.

From Fijileaks Archive, 11 February 2024

A Deed of Forbearance arrangement is a critical aspect of loan agreements that holds great relevance for borrowers facing financial challenges or default. It refers to an agreement between the lender and borrower that grants an extension and temporary relief to the borrower in fulfilling their repayment obligations. In essence, when a borrower encounters difficulties in making timely payments or faces imminent default, a forbearance arrangement comes into play. Rather than immediately initiating legal actions or enforcing penalties, the lender and borrower negotiate and establish a forbearance agreement. This agreement provides the borrower with additional time and flexibility to address their financial situation.
Below, the previous Deed of Forbearance

From Fijileaks Archive, 15 Febraury 2024

To be continued: The Guarantors. The 'Fly Now, Pay Later' Passenger List

Two for the Price of One: Why Fiji Needs Both a Minister and a Director of Information on PM’s Overseas Tours. Fiji government communications are so complex they require Minister Tabuya on standby at 38,000 feet

7/9/2025

Why Is Lynda Tabuya Suddenly in the PM Sitiveni Rabuka's Departure Lounge?

In a country wrestling with a rising cost of living, fragile public services, and eroding trust in government, Fiji’s taxpayers could be forgiven for asking a simple question: Why does the Minister for Information, Lynda Tabuya, seem to have a permanent seat suddenly on Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s overseas entourage?

There are few portfolios in government less tethered to foreign travel than Information. Fiji has a Ministry of Foreign Affairs for diplomacy, a Ministry of Trade for commerce, a Ministry of Climate for global negotiations. But somehow, when the PM packs his bags, the Minister of Information is now checked in and cleared for boarding.

Is it a new doctrine of governance? Or just the old perks of power with better hashtags?

What Exactly Is “Information” Doing Abroad?

No one begrudges the Prime Minister his overseas trips. Diplomacy is necessary. Regional summits matter. But ministerial travel is supposed to be purpose-driven.

Is there a regional “Minister of Information” summit we haven’t heard about?
Are we signing global treaties on “strategic messaging” at every stop?
Is the PM’s briefing folder so light on facts that he needs a dedicated “information handler” on standby at 38,000 feet?

No official rationale has ever been published, leaving taxpayers to draw their own conclusions — and none of them flattering.

The Optics: Boardrooms Abroad, Silence at Home

Meanwhile, back home, the Ministry of Information has a demanding job:

Overseeing state communications strategy.
Ensuring government transparency and public access to information.
Supporting state broadcasters and managing crisis messaging.

And yet, whenever Rabuka jets off, the portfolio’s lead communicator vanishes from Suva’s corridors. If Cabinet wanted to reassure the public that information flows are a top priority, this is not how you’d stage-manage it.

Governance by Frequent Flyer Points

What makes the situation even murkier is the lack of transparency about costs:

What does it cost taxpayers to have Tabuya on each of these trips: flights, accommodation, allowances, security?
How are these entourage lists decided?
Is Cabinet formally signing off on these itineraries, or is this just “Rabuka’s call, Rabuka’s rules”?

Rabuka's coalition government swept to power promising accountability, openness, and an end to the perception of entitlement. So far, the silence on this particular issue speaks louder than any press release.

An Unspoken Hierarchy

Repeated appearances in the Prime Minister’s orbit send signals within Cabinet. When one minister becomes a constant fixture on the PM’s international stage, while others stay home, it creates a hierarchy of proximity to power. It feeds resentment. It breeds factionalism.

For a fragile coalition government, that’s a dangerous game.

Parliament Deserves Answers

Taxpayers are not unreasonable. If Lynda Tabuya’s travel has a strategic purpose and if Fiji is, say, shaping regional media pacts or negotiating Pacific information-sharing agreements, show us the evidence.

Where are the reports on outcomes?
What agreements have been signed?
What tangible benefits have these trips delivered to Fiji’s citizens?

Without answers, the optics remain: boardroom selfies abroad, muted accountability at home.

Pareti

Two For the Price Of One: Overlap Without Purpose

Under Fiji’s government structure, the Director of Information, Samisoni Pareti, is the technical head of the Ministry and already tasked with:

Managing official government communications,
Coordinating state broadcasters and press briefings,
Liaising with international media when necessary.

If those responsibilities require overseas representation, the Director, not the Minister, would ordinarily handle them, because the Director is the technical specialist. The Minister’s role is to set policy and hold the portfolio politically accountable, not to act as a roving spokesperson.

International Precedent

In most Westminster-style systems, which Fiji follows, ministers do not automatically accompany prime ministers on foreign tours unless:

Their portfolio is directly related to the purpose of the trip (e.g. Trade Minister on a trade mission, Foreign Minister on bilateral summits), or
They are leading their own delegation to parallel talks.

For information-related matters, unless there’s a specific multilateral media or communications summit, it’s standard practice for the Director or relevant communications officers to represent the ministry.

The Optics Problem

By starting to accompanying Rabuka while core domestic responsibilities like government communications, transparency, and managing state broadcasters are handled by the Director of Information in her absence, Tabuya risks looking less like a minister advancing policy and more like a political ornament in the PM’s entourage.

For a government elected on promises of accountability and efficient use of public funds, the optics are damaging:

Taxpayers foot the bill for extra tickets and allowances.
Meanwhile, Fiji already pays a Director of Information to perform the same functions.
It suggests either ministerial vanity or proximity politics, not necessity.

Apparently, Fiji’s government communications are so complex they require both a Director of Information and the Minister herself on standby at 38,000 feet. Forget cost-cutting. Forget Cabinet priorities. Fiji’s taxpayers are now subsidising parallel portfolios for parallel photo-ops.

In any functional Westminster-style government, the Director would represent the ministry when required internationally, leaving the Minister to focus on domestic transparency, media strategy, and policy oversight. Instead, Tabuya’s appearances abroad create the perception of political tourism at public expense.

It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that the Minister’s role on these trips is less about information policy and more about proximity to power. Soon, she is heading to Israel.

FAITH, Politics & Photo Ops: Lynda Tabuya and Samisoni Pareti Off to Israel with Rabuka and his entourage for Fiji's Embassy Opening in Disputed West Jerusalem, 17-18 September

Ministry of Foreign Affairs or Clan Affairs? Fiji’s Israel Delegation Raises Eyebrows

Apparently, diversity has gone the way of the dodo at Fiji’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

The official delegation list for Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s upcoming state visit to Israel (17–19 September 2025) reads less like a cross-section of a multi-ethnic nation and more like a well-curated club guest list. Indians? None. Zero. Vanished.

For a ministry supposedly representing all of Fiji, it’s quite something when the entire delegation, seventeen handpicked representatives, manages to avoid including a single Indo-Fijian diplomat, policy officer, or even a junior attaché.

But perhaps this is the “new normal” under a government that talks reconciliation while practising exclusion.

One might have thought, given the historic ties between Indo-Fijian communities and broader Middle Eastern diplomacy, that someone, anyone, from Fiji’s substantial Indo-Fijian diplomatic corps would make the cut. Instead, the delegation looks more like a carefully managed “old boys’ club,” padded with Rabuka loyalists, military brass, media handlers, and personal protection officers.

If the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is aiming for the Guinness World Record for “Most Homogenous Delegation Representing a Multicultural Nation,” they’re well on track.

What makes this all the more ironic is that the Ministry is invoking the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations in its note to Israel. The convention, among other things, is meant to facilitate inclusive representation of a state abroad. Fiji’s version, however, seems to mean:

Represent only your friends,
Reward your allies,
And pretend the rest of the country doesn’t exist.

So, while Sitiveni Rabuka, Pio Tikoduadua, Lynda Tabuya, Jone Kalouniwai, and their entourage of “policy officers” sip fine wine in Jerusalem, Indo-Fijian diplomats back home might want to check if they’re still employed, or if “Fiji First” has been quietly replaced by “Fiji Few".

Because, judging by this list, for some people in the corridors of power, Fiji’s diversity is just a talking point.

For a country that never tires of boasting about its “multicultural democracy,” Fiji seems to have mastered the art of governing like a private club. The official delegation list for Rabuka’s upcoming state visit to Israel is a case study in exclusion.
Seventeen names. Not one Indo-Fijian.

That’s right, In a Ministry of Foreign Affairs supposedly representing all of Fiji, Indo-Fijians appear to have been surgically erased from Rabuka’s historic trip to Israel. No Indo-Fijian diplomat. No Indo-Fijian policy officer. Not even a junior attaché.

And here’s the real kicker: Fiji has an Indo-Fijian ambassador in the Middle East, Faizal Koya, a former NFP candidate, now conveniently serving as Fiji’s representative in the region. You’d think that if anyone ought to be on this delegation, it would be him. But no, apparently even the man officially stationed closest to Israel isn’t useful enough for Rabuka’s inner circle.

Which raises the obvious question: why the silence from Finance Minister Biman Prasad and the National Federation Party (NFP)? This is the same NFP that wraps itself in the rhetoric of multiculturalism, “equal citizenry,” and protecting Indo-Fijian interests. Yet when it comes to Rabuka’s diplomacy, NFP’s leadership is apparently content to sit quietly in the corner, watching Indo-Fijians being airbrushed out of Fiji’s international representation.

Is this the coalition deal Indo-Fijians voted for in 2022, a silent partnership where Rabuka decides who represents Fiji abroad, while NFP looks the other way?

Perhaps Fiji’s multiculturalism has a new working definition: “we’ll mention you in speeches, but not on the plane.”

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs may want to consider a rebrand. “Clan Affairs” has a much more honest ring to it.

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