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FNU in Crisis: When Political Patronage Replaces Competence, Chaos Was Always Coming. A comprehensive report by a special Review Team had warned FNU of governance issues and offered roadmap for recovery

19/10/2025

The real problem is not that Education Minister Radrodro has just noticed the FNU's troubles but it's that the university has been politically stuffed with failed SODELPA candidates and their sycophant supporters, many of whom were rewarded with appointments and influence far beyond their competence. New government, Same Rot.
The FNU is still Running on FFP Favouritism Fuel and the Coalition Has Just Changed the 'Leaking Petrol Tank'

October 2025: Fiji National University (FNU) is once again in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons, embroiled in internal unrest, staff grievances, and a leadership vacuum that now threatens its credibility as a national institution. Education Minister Aseri Radrodro has publicly instructed the university to restore stable leadership, sound governance, and compliance with the FNU Act 2009. But in truth, none of this should come as a surprise.

A comprehensive report, prepared by a special review team last year, had already offered FNU a detailed roadmap for recovery. It warned that for the university to become competitive and respected, staff recruitment and governance must be strengthened, industry ties rebuilt, teaching standards raised, student welfare improved, and research leadership established. The roadmap was not short on vision. It was an urgent call to act.

Instead of implementation, the report appears to have been shelved while the university drifted into deeper disarray. The resignation of Director of Marketing and Communications, Karen Lobendahn, and growing complaints from staff, including allegations involving a senior law lecturer, now illustrate a culture of dysfunction that the report foresaw but the leadership ignored.

Minister Radrodro’s sudden insistence on good governance might sound refreshing, but the timing is revealing. The real problem is not that the minister has just noticed the university’s troubles but it’s that FNU has been politically stuffed with failed SODELPA candidates and their supporters, many of whom were rewarded with appointments and influence far beyond their competence. When partisan loyalty becomes the hiring criterion, institutional integrity is the first casualty.

This politicisation of leadership and decision-making has corroded internal discipline, discouraged talented staff, and left FNU operating like a fiefdom rather than a university. What was meant to be a pillar of national education and innovation has become a stage for patronage, complacency, and petty internal conflict.

The warning signs were there. The roadmap report explicitly linked strong governance to national development and student success, urging FNU to align its priorities with Fiji’s broader education and workforce needs. Yet instead of reform, the university became a dumping ground for political loyalists, shielded by factional protection.

Radrodro’s directive may be well-intentioned, but it will take more than a public reminder to undo years of decay. Restoring confidence at FNU means more than appointing new faces; it demands a purge of political interference, a commitment to transparent recruitment, and a return to academic and ethical merit.

Unless that happens, no roadmap, no matter how well written, will rescue FNU from the consequences of its own political capture.

"Minister Shocked to Discover FNU Needs Good Governance. Who’d Have Thought!”: Fiji National University has been instructed by Aseri Radrodro to restore stable leadership and sound governance. The directive comes amid complaints from current and former staff regarding unresolved grievances, notably allegations involving a senior law lecturer and delays in addressing internal disputes.

The university’s Council has accepted the resignation of the Director of Marketing & Communication, Karen Lobendahn, effective immediately. Radrodro emphasised that the university must keep students’ interests in focus, maintain public trust, and act within the powers defined under the FNU Act 2009, which grants the Vice-Chancellor (under Council oversight) authority to appoint, discipline or dismiss staff on reasonable grounds.

Education Minister Aseri Radrodro has confirmed the resignation of Fiji National University director of Marketing and Communication Karen Lobendahn. Mrs Lobendahn was the subject of a series of complaints from past and former FNU staff members resulting an inquiry by the university into the allegations of overworked and unfair treatment of staff.

The Education Minister’s recent call for stability and sound governance at Fiji National University reads like déjà vu,* almost word-for-word from the roadmap report, which had already mapped out the very same reforms now being demanded.

TEN YEARS AGO, 2015: From Fijileaks Archives

May 2025: From The Fiji Times:

STOLEN FijiFirst Bus from original party owners finally Impounded. End of the Road for the Bainimarama-Khaiyum "Butako Bus". Fiji High Court Tows Away their "Butako Bus", dissolves party, issues winding-up order

16/10/2025

The former ruling FijiFirst Party has been officially dissolved after the High Court in Suva issued a winding-up order.

The party, founded in 2014, was de-registered in July last year after failing to amend its Constitution by the June 28, 2024 deadline set by the Registrar of Political Parties.

The winding-up application was filed by the Registrar of Political Parties (Registration, Conduct, Funding and Disclosures) Act, which requires de-registered parties to be formally wound up.

In his ruling, Justice Thushara Rajasinghe ordered the Office of the Official Receiver to take charge of the party’s affairs.

The court further ordered that FijiFirst must:

Submit a list of its assets and liabilities within 21 days of the date of service; and
Not dispose of or transfer any property or assets registered under the party’s name.

The Registrar of Titles was also directed not to register any property transfers unless approved by the Registrar of Political Parties.

Meanwhile, the same Justice Thushara Rajasinghe will decide next Wednesday, 22 October, whether to send Bainimarama back in a 'prison bus' to jail after finding him guilty on 2 October of making an unwarranted demand of then acting Police Commissioner Rusiate Tudravu between May and August of 2021 to sack two Fiji police officers

From Fijileaks Archives

2) Only lately Khaiyum, the general secretary of the proposed Fiji First Party, while refusing to resign as Election Minister, claimed that he searched through the Government gazettes and found that Sitiveni Rabuka was the Minister responsible for Elections in 1999 while Laisenia Qarase was the Minister responsible for Elections in 2001 and 2006. "This is listed under their responsibilities in the gazettes.";

(3) And yet Khaiyum made no effort or if he did, he is hiding the fact that the original Fiji First Party's name was gazetted on 12 December 2008. Moreover, he was also present at the Navosa meeting along with Viliame Naupoto, now an aspiring candidate for the proposed FFP. Khaiyum's self denial is understandable - for HE is the one who secretly registered his "own" proposed Fiji First Party domain name and g-mail account on 11 November 2009 and updated it on 21 January 2014 to fight the September general election:

(4) When Khaiyum registered his "own" Fiji First Party domain name and e-mail account Fiji was under his State of Public Emergency Regulations and no political acitivities of any kind or manner was allowed to any law-abiding citizens of Fiji. BUT KHAIYUM PUT HIMSELF ABOVE HIS OWN LAW on 11 November 2009 - We say RESIGN NOW and subject yourself to fine and two years imprisonment under your own PER which came into force at 1200 hours on 10 April 2009; the previous day, 9 April, Bainimarama knew of original Fiji First Party!
*That same day the Fiji Court of Appeal had declared the Bainimarama-Khaiyum government illegal in Qarase v Bainimarama case, resulting in the introduction of Khaiyum's PER (Public Emergency Regulations).

Labasa businessman Charan Jeath Singh made the above allegations against SANJAY KABA, the chairman of FFP Finance Committee, in 2014. Six years later, we see in the 'FFP Family Donation Lists', multiple donations very similar to what Kaba is alleged to have recommended to Singh. We may recall that FFP general secretary Aiyaz Sayed Khaiyum had struck Singh out as 2014 party election candidate and had returned his $10,000 donation. But did KABA donate to FFP. YES, he did.

He didn't donate as Sanjay Kaba but as SANJAY LAL. We were able to track his donation through our Fijileaks database that we have created out of FFP donations lists, supplied by Mohammed Saneem.
ON 13 April 2017, Sanjay Lal [KABA] donated $10,000 to FijiFirst Party. Receipt Number, 1632. We do not know who at FFP received donation

To FICAC and Election Supervisor MOHAMMED SANEEM:

The only way to establish whether Kaba was allegedly inciting Singh to commit electoral donation fraud is to take Kaba into custody, and to interview the Labasa businessman Charan Jeath Singh. The multiple donations from rich and small business families makes one VOMIT. We, at Fijileaks,* and our researchers felt like GIVING UP at times.
At the weekend Fiji's Haji Aiyaz Sayed Khaiyum was lecturing to a Muslim congregation about the teachings of their Prophet Mohammed. 'Focus on your deeds and not material life', he told the Milad-Un-Nabi celebration (the birth anniversary of Prophet Mohammed). 'Do not let the material world get to you and what matters are your deeds'.
The Prophet Mohammed, he told his audience, lived an ordinary life. Indeed, unlike Khaiyum who swaggers around surrounded by Bodyguards, costing thousands of dollars in security, and he and his wife are building luxury apartments in Wailoaloa, through Midlife Investments Ltd.
The contractor is one Tulsi Construction. Khaiyum told his audience that a lot of people and some who pray five times a day have told him to give the money on the side and get the job done. 'You can't worship God and be corrupt at the same day'. Many donors are alleging to Fijileaks* that they were blackmailed into donating to FFP. We will only be able to establish the truth by initiating a criminal investigation into the $7.5million donations.
The majority of the donations DID NOT come from voters living their ordinary lives like Prophet Mohammed but from the rich and powerful businessmen, their wives, sons, daughters, and even staff. In their zeal to donate, some of the donors and the FFP broke the electoral donation decree.
We will REVEAL the CRIMINALS masquerading as respectable citizens of Fiji. One of the DONORS who has clearly breached the donation decree, was even awarded the FIJI@50 Independence Commemorative Medal by President Konrote.
Mercifully, its Fiji, for if these revelations against the ruling FFP government and their BIG business financial backers, had been revealed in an African country, by now the Government and BIG Businessmen would have fled for their lives. As the Holy Quran reminds us, Corrupt rulers are the biggest problem. The position of the ruler is such that with their corruption unless they are corrupted, they will corrupt the society, since they are the ones responsible for maintaining the law, establishing the limits and protecting the people.
Hadith 40: The only fear I have for my Ummah are astray leaders*

Attracting Chaudhry Ire. When NFP GS and 'Mr 98 Votes' Iyer Trips Over His Own Cane Calculations. Iyer claims Chaudhry “caught with his pants down, lying, deceitful" over Diwali season cane payment announcement

14/10/2025

If anyone was “caught with pants down,” it was the man - Kamal Iyer - who couldn’t read the fine print of a press statement before picking a fight over it.

By the time the Sugar Industry Tribunal quietly confirmed that the final cane payment for 2024 was $1.20 per tonne, topped up by the Government’s $8.27 per tonne special payment to reach a total of $101.13 per tonne, Kamal Iyer had already done what he does best - overreact loudly, then find himself outflanked by arithmetic.

The National Federation Party general secretary and failed 2018 general election candidate (measly 98 votes), in his latest burst of self-righteousness, accused former Prime Minister Mahendra Chaudhry of being “caught with his pants down,” “lying,” and “deceitful,” after Chaudhry questioned the confusing phrasing of Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s Diwali-season cane payment announcement.

Unfortunately for Iyer, the numbers and the syntax have now ganged up against him.

The Statement That Started It All

At the centre of this political storm is one sentence from Prime Minister Rabuka (9 October): “Government will once again provide a further top-up in the final cane payment due before Diwali for the 2024 crop of $8.27, taking the fourth payment to $9.47 per tonne.”

In ordinary English, “a further top-up of $8.27” means exactly what Chaudhry said it did, that $8.27 was additional to the existing cane payment structure, not the total sum. The Sugar Industry Tribunal later confirmed this interpretation word for word: farmers would receive $1.20 per tonne as the final payment from the Fiji Sugar Corporation, plus the Government’s top-up of $8.27, making the fourth payment $9.47 in total and bringing the overall payout for the 2024 crop to $101.13 per tonne.

But in Iyer’s version of events, Chaudhry’s clarification was a “cover-up”, a desperate effort to walk back a supposed blunder.

The Cane Payment Breakdown That Buries the Hysteria

For those who prefer facts to noise, the Tribunal’s verified breakdown is straightforward:

Farmers had already received $91.66 per tonne through earlier instalments (delivery, second, and third payments, plus the May 2025 government supplement).
The Tribunal authorised a $1.20 per tonne final payment.
The Government added $8.27 per tonne under Rabuka’s “Diwali boost.”

Result: $101.13 per tonne - comfortably above the guaranteed minimum price of $85.

That figure matches precisely what Chaudhry explained, and contradicts the insinuation that he fabricated or distorted the numbers.

In other words, Iyer’s outrage was premature, his indignation misplaced, and his mathematics questionable.

When Political Reflex Beats Reading Comprehension

Kamal Iyer’s problem is not with sugar. It is with syntax.

Instead of pausing to understand the distinction between the final cane payment (from the Tribunal) and the Government’s top-up (a budgetary supplement), he went straight for moral denunciation mode. It’s a familiar pattern for the NFP’s communications team, which has a habit of attacking former Labour Party figures as if every question about financial transparency were an act of heresy.

Chaudhry, who has spent decades in the trenches of cane politics and sugar price negotiations, simply pointed out that the phrasing of Rabuka’s announcement could mislead ordinary farmers, a fair point when the difference between “final payment of $8.27” and “top-up of $8.27” translates into a week’s worth of groceries in the cane belt.

In response, Iyer did not clarify; he caricatured.

The Political Subtext: NFP’s Cane Sensitivities

Behind this quarrel lies a deeper discomfort within the coalition government. The sugar industry is politically sacred in Fiji, and the NFP, traditionally rooted in the cane belt, is eager to control the narrative. Any suggestion that Rabuka or Finance Minister Biman Prasad or Sugar Minister Charan Jeath Singh’s announcements were unclear risks undermining the Government’s claim of delivering record payments.

So when Chaudhry questioned the announcement’s phrasing, Iyer’s instinct was not to check the math but to protect the message. The irony is that the Tribunal’s official figures now vindicate Chaudhry’s reading and make Iyer’s performance look like a tantrum masquerading as commentary.

Cane, Clarity, and Contrition

The episode could have ended with a quiet acknowledgment that the Government’s top-up was, in fact, an addition, and that everyone was arguing over the same arithmetic, just phrased differently.

But that would require humility which is not Iyer’s strongest trait.

Instead, his attack has only highlighted the NFP’s sensitivity to any scrutiny of its sugar rhetoric and its increasing tendency to lash out at critics with the same moral fury once reserved for coup apologists.

If anyone was “caught with pants down,” it was the man who couldn’t read the fine print of a press statement before picking a fight over it

The Sugar Industry Tribunal’s confirmation leaves no room for creative interpretation:
Chaudhry’s explanation matches the official payment structure.
Rabuka’s statement, while technically clear, was susceptible to misreading.

Iyer’s accusation, meanwhile, collapses under the weight of basic arithmetic.

Or, as farmers might put it: the cane doesn’t lie but sometimes the spin does.

Maybe we should consider bringing back caning for those who fail to do right maths?

When will Sugar Minister and Minister for Multi-Ethnic Affairs focus on multi-ethnic issues where minority* races are increasingly marginalised in top government appointments?

NFP General Secretary, Kamal Iyer says Chaudhry finds himself entangled in his own web of lies, deceit and treachery by trying in vain to extricate himself from the diabolical lies he spewed regarding the top-up amount by government of the final cane payment.

He says the FLP leader also claimed that the Prime Minister wasn’t receiving the right advice and stated that it was premature to say he breached the Code of Conduct of the Political Parties Act because this was not a campaign period.

Iyer says Chaudhry, in conformity to his reputation of being a habitual liar, blames Rabuka’s announcement, partially quoting a newspaper’s online report.

He says this is the sign of a desperate politician who is both clutching to straws and at the same time behaving like a cornered rat.

NFP party leader still on the run after being cornered by FICAC but was let loose by the sacked Ficac Commissioner Malimali from the 'Ficac Mouse Trap'

Fraud from the Start:

How Biman Prasad Concealed His Business Empire,
One Omission at a Time

In politics, timing and truth matter. So does the intent behind silence.

In March 2013, more than a year before he signed his statutory declaration of assets to contest Fiji’s 2014 general election, Biman Prasad - now Coalition's Finance Minister and the Deputy Prime Minister and leader of the National Federation Party (NFP) - entered into a series of property and business transactions with his cousin Sunil Chand that would have redefined any honest declaration of wealth.

Prasad did not just forget to declare a car or understate a salary. He concealed an entire property purchase, business partnership, shareholding, and corporate directorship. He continued to conceal these interests for nearly a decade, across multiple election cycles. He misled regulators, voters, and his own party. And the record now shows this was not a momentary lapse. It was a deliberate and sustained act of political fraud.

The Sequence That Reveals Intent

In March 2013, Prasad:

Purchased two off-plan villas for $150,000 each from his cousin, Sunil Chand;
Formed a private company, Lotus Construction (Fiji) Ltd, with Chand just days later;
Was appointed co-director and issued 5% of the company’s shares, worth approximately $210,000 based on a contemporaneous $4.2 million valuation.

In July 2014, as required by law, Prasad filed a statutory declaration of assets and business interests with the Registrar of Political Parties.

He declared none of it.

He did not declare:

The two villas he had already purchased;
His 5% ownership in a construction firm;
His role as a company director;
His financial relationship with his cousin, co-founder, and business partner.

And it didn’t stop there.

In 2016, Prasad acquired a further 45% stake in Lotus Construction from his cousin for just $4,800. This transaction elevated him to 50% ownership of a real estate development company, then engaged in constructing 28 villas in Nadi using a $1.5 million loan from ANZ Bank and private investor deposits.

Again, he failed to disclose this in any known public declaration.

The Law He Broke, Repeatedly

Under Section 24 of the Political Parties (Registration, Conduct, Funding and Disclosures) Act 2013, political party officials and candidates must declare all assets, liabilities, business interests, and income sources. False or misleading declarations attract criminal penalties of up to 10 years in prison, a $50,000 fine, or both.

Prasad’s 2014 declaration, submitted under oath, was not merely incomplete. It was knowingly false. He was a co-director and part-owner of a multi-million-dollar company. He owned real estate. He was involved in financing, development, and sales and all of which should have been disclosed under the law.

Subsequent declarations did not correct or disclose the omitted interests, making this a continuing offence under the Act. Even if he eventually disclosed something about his shares, the undervaluation ($85,000 instead of $210,000) and failure to disclose that the shares were gifted or grossly underpaid for makes such statements false and misleading in substance.

Why This Is Fraud. Not Negligence

Fraudulent intent does not require a written confession. It is proved through patterns of conduct, knowledge of obligations, and deliberate omissions.

In this case, the facts speak for themselves:

The assets were already acquired before the 2014 declaration.
The business was founded with a first cousin - a related party.
The shares were issued with no recorded payment in 2013, and only $4,800 paid in 2016 for what amounted to a controlling 50% stake.
The company went on to develop 28 villas - a major real estate project.

Any claim that this was forgotten or misunderstood is implausible. This was a calculated effort to withhold information that would have cast Prasad not as a clean academic outsider, but as a well-connected real estate investor with undisclosed business interests.

No Defence in Silence

It may be asked why the Fiji Elections Office (FEO), which received the declaration in 2014, did not detect the omission. But this is irrelevant. The legal duty is on the declarant, not the regulator. Regulatory failure does not excuse deception.

To suggest, as Prasad might, that “no one caught it at the time” is not a defence. It is an admission that the deception succeeded. This is not just about assets. It is about:

Gaining and holding public office on false pretences;
Shielding financial interests that could conflict with parliamentary duties;
Deceiving voters about financial independence and credibility.

A Fraud from the First Signature

From the moment he filed his July 2014 declaration omitting known and substantial interests, Biman Prasad engaged in an act of political fraud. Every omitted share, every undeclared gift, and every undervalued transaction since has only deepened the offence.

This is not an old paperwork error. It is a pattern. It is deliberate. And it is disqualifying.

If Fiji’s anti-corruption laws are to mean anything, and if voters are to believe in the integrity of democratic institutions, then such acts must carry consequences.

Sunil Chand at the recent NFP conference in Labasa

FIJI DAY in the DIASPORA. Rabuka’s FIJI DAY Diplomacy. Now Accepting Remittances as Proof of Love for Country. Fiji Day by the Western Union, M-Paisa. Rabuka, Ministers accept patriotism comes with transaction fee

14/10/2025

Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka and his Cabinet have apparently discovered that patriotism now comes with a transaction fee. Forget Suva, Lautoka, Labasa or Levuka - the real Fiji, it seems, now exists in Sydney, Auckland, Vancouver, and Sacramento, wherever the blue flag flutters over community parks and the remittance receipts keep the nation’s reserves intact.

Our leaders are not celebrating independence; they’re celebrating income flow. Fiji Day has become the world’s most expensive “thank you” note to those wiring money home to keep the government solvent.

Rabuka’s logic is charmingly simple: the diaspora sends the most cash, therefore they deserve the most affection. What a patriotic exchange rate, one dollar equals one word of gratitude.

Remittance as Religion

Nothing says “unity” quite like ignoring the citizens who actually stayed home to hold the country together, while ministers jet off to flatter those who left.

At Sydney’s Woodward Park, Rabuka told thousands of expatriates: “Even though you are far from Fiji, your hearts remain close.”

A beautiful sentiment - though it might have sounded more honest as: “Even though you are far from Fiji, your wallets remain open.”

He thanked them for sending $448.5 million in the first four months of this quarter as if remittances were a national love language.

Every dollar transferred has become a vote of confidence, or more accurately, a bailout by bank app.

Remittance Day, Not Fiji Day

The Fiji Day celebration in Sydney had all the right symbolism: blue flags, bula shirts, cultural dances, speeches about unity, and government booths offering services that never quite work properly at home.

It was the full diaspora roadshow - ministers smiling for photos while explaining how proud they are that so many Fijians have had to emigrate.

The irony is rich.

Remittances are not a triumph of policy; they are receipts for policy failure.

They exist because Fijians have had to leave to survive, to find the jobs and dignity denied to them in the land they still call home.

But rather than confront that truth, the government wraps it in ribbon and calls it patriotism.

The Vuvale Illusion

Rabuka also used the Sydney stage to thank Australia for its friendship under the Vuvale Partnership, describing it as a “Pacific family.”

Which, of course, it is, the kind where one side pays the bills and the other side writes sentimental thank-you notes.

The Vuvale Partnership has become a comforting euphemism for structured dependence - Fiji supplies the gratitude and the cheap labour, while Australia supplies the cheques and the platform for our national day.

It’s a convenient arrangement for politicians: they get applause abroad and avoid accountability at home.

The Rhetoric of Gratitude

The Prime Minister praised expatriate Fijians for their “values of respect, humility, and compassion.”

Lovely words, though it’s worth noting that those same values are mostly practiced by the people wiring money back to struggling families, not by the politicians spending it.

The government’s tone of gratitude is not misplaced, but it is revealing: this is what happens when remittances become a substitute for reform.

Why fix an economy when the diaspora keeps rescuing it?

Why build confidence at home when you can sell nostalgia abroad?

Independence or Dependence?

Fiji Day was meant to mark our independence from foreign control.

Fifty-five years later, we celebrate by praising those who prop us up from afar.

The colonial master may be gone, but dependency remains; this time wrapped in Pacific rhetoric and polite diplomacy.

Rabuka ad his Cabinet Minister's Fiji Day abroad was not a celebration of freedom; it was an acknowledgment of survival.

He wasn’t speaking as a leader of an independent nation. He was speaking as the grateful CEO of a struggling brand kept afloat by overseas investors.

The Final Irony

As the Fiji flags donned the Sydney sky and the Prime Minister toasted “One Fiji,” the message was clear: unity now comes with a remittance slip attached.

Fiji’s independence has quietly become a subscription service, renewed each month through Western Union and M-Paisa.

The government gets to wave the flag abroad while the people abroad pay the bill.

Fiji Day used to be about the end of dependence.

Under Rabuka and his predecessors after the 1987 coups, it has become the celebration of dependence, repackaged as gratitude.

So yes, vinaka vakalevu to the diaspora.

Not because you’re Fiji’s pride but because you’ve become its paymaster.

So here's the toast Rabuka should have given in his Fiji Day speech: 'To our diaspora-thank you for doing what we can't: paying our bills, funding our deficits, and forgiving our failures. Keep sending money, because we've built a whole foreign policy around it."

Alarmingly, some of the most racist i-Taukei now live comfortably abroad, feeding off their host countries, sending remittances home, and still claiming their rights in the Vola ni Kawa Bula. In doing so, they're dutifully fulfilling Rabuka's racist and ethno-nationalist agenda.

The irony? They rant online about keeping non-iTaukei "in their place" back home, while they themselves enjoy every perk, privilege, and pension as vulagis abroad.

Just scroll through their Facebook posts. It's Every Day. Not just on Fiji Day.

The Right Salute: Why President Ratu Naiqama Lalabalavu's Presence with Fijian Soldiers in the British Army Honoured the True Spirit of Fiji Day

While others were celebrating Fiji Day with expatriates and remittance senders abroad, President Ratu Naiqama Lalabalavu quietly spent it with those who carry Fiji’s flag not on parade grounds at home, but on foreign soil - the Fijian soldiers serving in the British Army, Navy, and Air Force.

It was not a glamorous event.

Just uniforms, discipline, and the unmistakable pride of men and women who have worn the Fijian identity with honour in some of the toughest places on earth.

And it was exactly where the Commander-in-Chief of the Republic of Fiji belonged on Fiji Day.

A Commander Among Soldiers

President Lalabalavu's decision to celebrate Fiji Day with Fijian troops in their British barracks was more than a gesture. It was a statement of values.

It reminded the world that Fiji’s story is not only written by politicians, diplomats, or donors but by ordinary Fijians who serve quietly in distant regiments, often away from their families, carrying both the Union Jack and the Fiji flag with dignity.

When the President stood before those soldiers, he was not just visiting expatriates.

He was visiting a living extension of the Republic - hundreds of Fijians who have turned courage, humility, and discipline into Fiji’s most respected export.

His presence symbolised respect from the highest office to the humblest rifleman.

Beyond the Blue Flag and Bula Shirts

While some leaders abroad turned Fiji Day into a stage for remittance diplomacy, the President chose a different stage, one that carried no financial motive and no political spin.

He stood before Fijians whose service cannot be measured in dollars but in duty, discipline, and danger.

These are the same men and women who have served in Afghanistan, Iraq, Cyprus, Northern Ireland, and countless peacekeeping missions.

They have flown the flag into war zones and carried it home draped over coffins.

And when their Commander-in-Chief saluted them, he saluted the soul of Fiji’s resilience.

The Real Meaning of Independence

Fiji Day was never meant to be a commercial celebration. It was meant to remind us of the sacrifices that built and preserved our sovereignty.

By spending it with Fijian soldiers in the British Army, President Lalabalavu reconnected the nation with that original meaning.

He honoured not only those in uniform, but also the families who endure separation, hardship, and quiet pride so that their loved ones can serve.

It was a symbolic reunion between Fiji’s leadership and the spirit of service that has defined Fijians for generations - from the jungles of Malaya and the deserts of the Middle East to the peacekeeping posts of the Pacific.

A President Who Understood the Moment

For once, Fiji’s Commander-in-Chief chose substance over spectacle.

He did not need a stadium, a stage, or a sponsorship logo - just the company of Fijians who live the meaning of “service before self.”

In doing so, he reminded the nation what true leadership looks like: quiet, grounded, and grateful.

His visit was a reminder that Fiji’s greatness has never come from speeches. It comes from the character of its people.

The Salute That Spoke for a Nation

In the crisp autumn air of British army parade grounds, President Lalabalavu's salute said what words could not:

That Fiji remembers.

That Fiji honours.

And that Fiji’s independence is safeguarded not only by those who govern but by those who serve.

On Fiji Day, the President stood where the heart of Fiji beats strongest - among its soldiers.

And for that, the nation should stand and salute him in return.

Many of these Fijian soldiers serving in the British Army are, in fact, avid and loyal readers of Fijileaks, and they tell us so. From barracks in Catterick to deployments abroad, they quietly follow every update, every revelation, and every story that connects them back to home.

In their messages to us, they remind Fijileaks why truth still matters - because even thousands of miles away, they care deeply about the Fiji they left behind and the one they hope to return to one day.

The Birth of Indo-Fijian Population Decline Began in London. Thanks for Nothing, Biman Prasad: The NFP Betrayed Indo-Fijians in 1970, and Half a Century Later, He is Still Crying Over a Decline His Party Helped Create

11/10/2025

The NFP delegation in London; courtesy of the late Karam Chand Ramrakha

Biman Prasad’s latest lecture on Indo-Fijian population decline is vintage NFP theatre. It is high on indignation, low on self-awareness. He accuses Opposition Leader Inia Seruiratu of “playing politics” with demographics, blames falling birth rates and migration, and insists the downward trend started long before he entered politics.

For once, he’s telling the truth but not in the way he thinks. The real story of Indo-Fijian decline is not just a tale of statistics. It’s a history of betrayal, cowardice and structural failure, much of it authored by the very political tradition Biman Prasad now leads.

London, 1970: NFP’s Original Sin and Temptation of Power

Let’s start at the beginning. At the 1970 London constitutional talks, the National Federation Party, hailed then as the voice of Indo-Fijians, capitulated. Instead of fighting for a democratic, non-racial order, they accepted a deal that entrenched communal seats, guaranteed chiefly veto power, and structurally locked Indo-Fijians out of full political equality.

And they did so while ignoring every demographic warning before them. Constitutional advisers at the time (including my own former academic supervisor the late Sir David Butler - real SIR, no manorial purchase of the title from an auction house) pointed out that the Indo-Fijian share of the population would begin to decline within a generation but NFP leaders signed away safeguards anyway. They came home with a flag, not a future.

That betrayal was the foundation stone of our political vulnerability. And it’s a vulnerability that has shaped every crisis since.

1987: Rabuka Turns a Problem Into a Catastrophe

If 1970 was the betrayal, 1987 was the hammer blow. Sitiveni Rabuka’s racist military coups, openly justified as a defence of “indigenous supremacy”, were a body blow to Indo-Fijian security and confidence. Families that had called Fiji home for generations suddenly found themselves treated as outsiders in their own country.

Tens of thousands fled. Teachers, doctors, engineers, business owners, the very backbone of the Indo-Fijian community, migrated to Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and beyond. Many never returned. Rabuka’s coups didn’t just topple the Bavadra government; they shattered a community’s belief that it could ever belong.

And while Prasad likes to recite migration statistics as though they were inevitable, he rarely mentions that this mass exodus was not a natural demographic trend. It was a direct result of calculated political racism.

2006–2014: Bainimarama’s Attempt and the Continuing Exodus

Even the Bainimarama government, for all its authoritarian flaws, recognised the injustice and tried to reverse it. By enshrining equal and common citizenship in the 2013 Constitution, Bainimarama tore up the colonial-era racial labels and declared, for the first time, that every citizen was simply a “Fijian”.

But even that bold step could not undo decades of structural damage. By then, the Indo-Fijian diaspora was established, and many who had left were never coming back. Worse, young Indo-Fijians inside Fiji continued to see no real future in a country where political leaders, including Prasad’s current coalition partners, still wink at ethno-nationalism and glorify Rabuka as a “statesman.”

The exodus didn’t slow. In fact, in many ways, it deepened.

Biman Prasad’s Crocodile Tears

And so we come to Biman Prasad, standing on a shrinking political platform, lamenting a demographic reality his party helped create and successive governments failed to stop. He points fingers at Bainimarama for Brij Lal’s exile. He scolds Seruiratu for “politicising” the numbers. But he refuses to confront the uncomfortable truth:

It was NFP’s cowardice in 1970 that left Indo-Fijians without constitutional protection.
It was Rabuka’s racist coups in 1987 that triggered the mass migration.
It was decades of political timidity, including by NFP, that allowed inequality and insecurity to persist even after Bainimarama introduced equal citizenship.

Biman Prasad wants to treat Indo-Fijian decline as an act of nature. It isn’t. It is a political project, one that began with surrender, continued with racism, and endures through silence.

A Future Squandered

The Indo-Fijian story could have been one of confident nation-building. Instead, it is a story of permanent second-class status, political betrayal, and now, demographic disappearance. And the bitter irony is that Biman Prasad, who today clutches his pearls over shrinking numbers, leads the same party that signed our future away 55 years ago.

If he truly wants to honour Indo-Fijians, he should stop playing the helpless academic and start telling the truth: our decline was not inevitable. It was engineered by colonial compromise, by coup-era racism, and by the political cowardice of leaders who still refuse to apologise.

The Last Word for NFP leader Biman Prasad

So here’s a message for the NFP leader Biman Prasad: Indo-Fijians don’t need lectures. They need accountability. They need leaders willing to confront the betrayal of 1970, condemn the crimes of 1987, and finally deliver the security that even Bainimarama’s reforms could not guarantee.

Until then, his tears over demographic decline are just that - tears. And history will record that when the Indo-Fijian community needed courage, the NFP gave them compromise. When they needed protection, they got platitudes.

And when they needed a future, they got a footnote.

The NFP delegation returned from London with a constitution that was less a social contract than a surrender document. The party's failure in 1970 was not just seats and constitutions. It was about vision, or rather, the lack of it. Instead of imaging a Fiji where citizenship trumped ethnicity, they opted for communal compartments and colonial compromises. Instead of future-proofing Indo-Fijian rights against demographic shifts, they gambled everything on static population ratios.

It was a catastrophic miscalculation, and its consequences are now irreversible.

So when Biman Prasad blames migration or fertility rates, he's only telling half the story. Yes, Indo-Fijians left in droves because they were made to feel they had no stake in a system stacked against them from the start. Yes, many had fewer children because they saw no future in a state that structurally diminished their voice.

And who built that state?

It wasn't Frank Bainimarama. It wasn't Inia Seruiratu. It wasn't even Sitiveni Rabuka. It was the NFP's London delegation in 1970 - Prasad's politicial ancestors - who sold our community's constitutional future for a Union Jack handover ceremony and a few polite handshakes in Whitehall.

So yes, former professor of statistics, the numbers don't lie. But neither does history. And history will record that long before Indo-Fijians began leaving Fiji, the NFP leadership left them behind in London in 1970.

Rabuka: Bring Back South African 'Apartheid'

Fijileaks: Astonishingly, in June 2000, shortly after George Speight and others seized Parliament, Rabuka told the world that the old South Africa might be a model for Fiji.

He no longer seemed to believe in a multi-racial chamber.

Brandishing the
1997 Constitution

Rabuka said Fiji might need racially segregated houses of parliament, ‘like pre-Mandela South Africa’, as part of a constitutional settlement to its problems. The solution to Fiji's problems ‘must come with a constitutional arrangement that [i-Taukei] Fijians can work with ... and at the moment, they cannot work with the 1997 Constitution’.

Basically, he was disowning the very 1997 Rabuka-Reddy Constitution that PAP-NFP is now brandishing around the country. The typical opportunist in time of crisis Rabuka: "I supported every move to destabilise the Chaudhry government, but I was not part of the coup. I was not involved in any of the [pre-coup] marches. But I was going to be involved in the next one because it was [to be held at] the time of the signing of the successor to the Lome Convention this month.’

Rabuka said he had known Speight and had played golf with him and knew of his commitment to indigenous rights. However, he did not agree that Speight represented the ‘soul’ or the ‘voice’ of the indigenous people, or the i-Taukei:

‘Why should he consider himself the voice of the iTaukei His grandfather was a European? The military has only [negotiated with] Speight because of the security of the hostages. He has no legal claim. I don't have any moral stance on whether his actions are right or wrong. I cannot say anything about that because I was in the coup in 1987. I am giving my opinions as a private citizen. But Speight has lost the plot and right now he is trying to hang onto every little straw that floats by. He is living in a bubble, and very soon that bubble will burst.’

Professor Brij Vilash Lal and I were academic friends for decades. We corresponded frequently, shared drafts, and debated ideas long before politics divided Fiji’s scholars.

However, it is a matter of record, and of honesty, that until his deportation and permanent banning from Fiji, the late Brij Lal chose not to be publicly critical of the post-2006 regime.

He told me personally that he needed continued access to Fiji’s archives while completing his monumental work on the Indian diaspora, and that open confrontation might jeopardise that research access.

That was his pragmatic choice as a historian, not a moral failing. I respected it then, as I do now.

To acknowledge this historical truth is not to diminish him, but to show how scholars, writers, and journalists must each navigate truth and survival differently.

I have always honoured his scholarship and friendship; what I reject is the revisionist myth that he was an outspoken critic from the beginning. He became one later, after the door to Fiji was slammed shut on him.

And let us not forget this inconvenient truth: the late Professor Brij Lal, whose exile Biman Prasad so often invokes as a symbol of Fiji's injustice, was himself no longer a Fiji citizen.

He had renounced his Fijian nationality decades ago, becoming an American citizen in 1993 and an Australian citizen in 1995. In an 2000 interview, he declared that he would probably 'never go back to Fiji'.

In acquiring those American and Australian citizenships, he was joining thousands of Indo-Fijians who were making the same choice, leaving behind the land of their birth in search of dignity and opportunity abroad. In Brij Lal's case, he wanted to give back to Australia, his adopted country, by writing a new history of its relationship with the Pacific islands.

RIP, Professor Brij Vilash Lal.

From 1987 to 1999, Rabuka and his quasi-civilian military regime made no attempt to introduce dual citizenship because he never wanted Indo-Fijians he had driven out to have a pathway back.

Their exile was not an unfortunate consequence of politics. It was a deliberate policy.

Nehru

India’s Shadow and the Nehru Dilemma

India’s instinctive embrace of Indo-Fijian causes has been both a source of strength and a barrier to Fiji’s racial reconciliation. From the days of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s leaders have wrestled with a fundamental question: are overseas Indians to be treated as Indian nationals abroad, or as citizens of their new homelands? Nehru’s answer, delivered in 1948, was clear: they must integrate, identify with their adopted nations, and expect only cultural and humanitarian, not political, support from India.

Yet successive Indian governments have repeatedly blurred that line, and Indo-Fijian leaders like Mahendra Chaudhry have benefited from it. Every time Indo-Fijians “sneezed”, as one observer quipped, “Mother India caught a fever.”

And in Chaudhry’s case, India’s fever came with a hefty cheque of $2million in 2000.

Crocodile Tears Flood Suva and Sydney: Same Choir That Sang “Vote For Sitiveni Rabuka, Vote For Viliame Gavoka, Vote for Biman Prasad', NOW Weep Over the Crocodiles They Fed. The Swamp they helped fill. FIJI@55

10/10/2025

Oh, the irony! The same self-righteous chorus that spent 2022 chanting “Anything but Bainimarama-Khaiyum!” is now clutching their pearls because Sitiveni “Mr. Coup 1987” Rabuka and his merry Coalition comrades are doing exactly what rational people, including Fijileaks, warned they would do.

These political converts, former FFP apparatchiks, the instant democrats, moral crusaders, and born-again defenders of the rule of law, are now crying crocodile tears over the very swamp they helped fill.

Let’s rewind the tape, shall we?

Remember the high-minded op-eds, the self-congratulatory panel discussions, the “strategic voting” sermons from Fiji’s intelligentsia, NGOs, Facebook hacks, and the social media “freedom fighters”? Remember the endless exhortations: “We must remove FFP at all costs: Vote Rabuka, Vote Prasad, Vote Gavoka!”

They didn’t just whisper it. They shouted it from the rooftops, tweeted it in hashtags, printed it in editorials, and preached it at Sunday lunch tables. “Dislodge the dictatorship!” they cried. “Restore democracy!”

Well, congratulations, folks. Mission accomplished. You got your democracy, Rabuka-style.

You didn’t just hand him the keys to Parliament and the Government House. You handed him the moral legitimacy he never earned and the legal machinery to consolidate it.

And now, when Chief Justice Salesi Temo, the very man appointed through your Coalition’s constitutional manipulations, sits comfortably as Acting President, inspecting the Guard of Honour at Albert Park, sipping tea with the RFMF high command at the State House, suddenly you find your voices again?

Now, the crocodiles come out. “Judicial crisis!” “Constitutional overreach!” “Threat to the rule of law!”

Where were these “rule of law” saints when Rabuka was making his rounds promising “reconciliation” with the very military that overthrew the 1997 Constitution? Where were their op-eds when Biman Prasad was busy sanctifying the deal with the same old coup apologist, smiling for photo-ops as if Fiji had suddenly been redeemed by a coalition of angels?

Let’s be clear: Temo is Chief Justice and Acting President because of your vote, your moral complicity, and your desperate obsession with “getting rid of Bainimarama”.

You built this so-called political Frankenstein, and now you’re shocked it’s alive?

The irony is delicious, if it weren’t so tragic. The same academics, journalists, and NGO champions who called FFP “dictatorial” are now discovering that selective morality is a dangerous weapon. You cheered as the Coalition politicized the judiciary, hollowed out institutions, and rewarded loyalty over legality.

Now, when the same system turns its teeth inward, you squeal about abuse of power.

Sorry, friends, you don’t get to cry victim when you were the ones who fed the crocodile and told everyone else it was a misunderstood vegan.

So, the next time Fiji’s “civil society” cabal convenes another democracy workshop or issues another statement about judicial independence, maybe include a disclaimer:

“Warning: May contain hypocrisy. Results may include crocodile tears.”

Because this is the Fiji you chose, a Fiji where the Constitution is a convenience, justice a political weapon, and the Chief Justice doubles as Acting President while the nation watches the rule of law sink slowly beneath the swamp.

And as the crocodile sunbathes on the ruins of accountability, remember that it’s not biting you because it’s evil. It’s biting you because you fed it.

*And, Your loud chants of 2022 will lie, like an overfed crocodile, in the National Archives of Fiji, preserved for generations as proof that noise is not the same as truth. You were the ones who fed the crocodile and told the Fijian VOTERS it was a misunderstood vegan.

FIJI@55: Fifty-five years since independence, and Fiji still can’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or stage another coup.

October 10, 1970, was meant to be the dawn of a new era. A proud young nation taking its first breath of self-determination, with a promise of unity, equality, and progress. Instead, 55 years later, we’ve become experts at holding flag-raising ceremonies while quietly lowering our standards of governance.

Yes, the speeches flowed, the fireworks sparkled, the national anthem trembled on the wind but behind the cheers lies a familiar undercurrent of tears.

Fiji’s independence story is no straight line of triumph. It’s a loop of hope and heartbreak, of leaders who promise democracy and deliver dynasties, of politicians who wave the Constitution one day and trample it the next.

We’ve had four constitutions, four coups, three national reconciliations (all unfinished), two “people’s governments,” and one endless identity crisis.

And here we are in 2025, led by the same political ghosts who haunted the 1980s, cheered on by those who once swore they’d never make that mistake again. Chief Justice Salesi Temo is now Acting President, not because history evolved, but because Fiji’s political class can’t stop feeding its own contradictions.

It was Fiji Day, and yes, there is pride in our endurance. We’ve survived coups, cyclones, corruption, and constitutional chaos. Our resilience is legendary. But resilience is not the same as progress.

Fifty-five years on, we still mistake survival for success. We still let those who broke the nation present themselves as its saviours. And we still believe every new leader’s promise that this time, it’ll be different.

So yes, raise the flag, sing the anthem, and shout “Happy Fiji Day!”. But remember what that flag also covers: a nation still divided by race, religion, class, vanua and political amnesia.

Because until Fiji learns that true independence means freeing ourselves from hypocrisy, fear, and recycled leaders, Fiji Day will always be a mix of cheers, fears, and crocodile tears.

Hero Of The Day. Janet Mason, 'His Lordship David Edward Ashton-Lewis is the 6th Baron of Benington and the 21st Lord of Huntingdon' in the UK. Two Titles for the Price of One: Baron by Birth, Lord by Lineage, Really?

9/10/2025

"Reflecting on his life’s journey, His Lordship conveyed that his proudest moment was when he was granted a coat of arms, a crest, a bridge, and a standard, by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second in 1989, for services to constitutions and constitutional law in a developing commonwealth country."
Janet Mason, 26 November, 2024

*Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka Sent Justice Ashton-Lewis to Drain the Pond of "Crocodiles" and Fiji Police are still after them.
This tongue-in-cheek 'Hero of the Day' piece shouldn't be mistaken for absolution. Satire aside, nothing here prevents the Police from continuing their investigations into the COI findings or from keeping an eye on the crocodiles still gliding quietly beneath the surface.

Several Fijileaks readers have written in scratching their heads and asking the obvious: how can Justice David Edward Ashton-Lewis be both the 6th Baron of Benington and the 21st Lord of Huntingdon?

So, in the spirit of public service, and mild amusement, we’re writing this piece to explain how one man manages to juggle not one but two coats of arms, straddling centuries of British aristocracy while presiding over matters of law and governance on the Supreme Court of Fiji.

This isn’t idle curiosity. Titles like these aren’t plucked from a cereal box. They trace deep into the English peerage system, passed down, revived, and sometimes merged, and they say a lot about who His Lordship Justice Ashton-Lewis is and how he sees himself.

His Lordship David Edward Ashton-Lewis is the 6th Baron of Benington and the 21st Lord of Huntingdon.

But here’s the twist: despite the grand impression of ancient lineage, both titles entered his possession not by ancestral succession or royal grant but by legal conveyance in the summer of 2019.

According to official notices published in The London Gazette, Justice Ashton-Lewis purchased the Manorial Lordship of Huntingdon Fee on 9 July 2019 and, less than two weeks later, acquired the Feudal Barony of Benington on 22 July 2019. Both were created “by legal process”, not by the Crown, nor by inheritance, a polite English way of saying they were bought.

And when someone who just secured two centuries-old titles by cheque suddenly pops up at the centre of a Pacific island’s constitutional and anti-corruption saga, it’s worth asking: are we dealing with a judge, a baron, a lord, or all three, wrapped in royal fur and underwritten by an auction manorial house invoice?

“When the Baron Comes Home: Would Anyone in Benington Even Notice?”

If Justice Ashton-Lewis, the self-styled 6th Baron of Benington and 21st Lord of Huntingdon in the United Kingdom, were to stride proudly into Benington, Hertfordshire, one suspects the reception might be…underwhelming.

Picture it:

The locals are sipping tea at the Bell Inn.
The postmaster is sorting bills and Amazon parcels.
A retired farmer dressed in tweak jacket walking his dog past St Peter’s Church.

Suddenly, an Australian man arrives, declaring:

“Greetings, my subjects! Your Baron has returned!”

Chances are, someone would quietly point him toward the Benington Lordship Association Facebook page, where he’d learn that the “barony” is a historic legal curiosity, now essentially a property right, nothing more regal than a car park lease.

And over in Huntingdon Fee (Wootton), Northamptonshire, the “domain” of his 21st Lordship, the likely response would be even frostier:

“Lord of what, mate? This is a housing estate.”

Reality Check on the Two Titles

The Baron of Benington title? Purchased via legal conveyance in 2019, not bestowed by the Crown.
The Lord of Huntingdon? Also a manorial title, detached from any political power centuries ago.
In the UK today, these titles carry about as much real authority as a free Wi-Fi voucher.

In Fiji, Justice Ashton-Lewis’s titles project an aura of prestige, evoking visions of castles, vassals, and noble duty.

But in England?

The only thing his “subjects” in Benington or Huntingdon might hand him is the Wi-Fi password and a tourist map.

“All hail the Baron… provided he finds someone who cares.”

Ratu Who? When Fiji’s Villagers Meet the Baron of Benington

Picture this: deep in the hills of Naitasiri, a kava circle is in full swing.

Chiefs are seated cross-legged, the tanoa is flowing, and the villagers are whispering about the day’s big news:

“A baron is coming.”

Into the clearing strides Justice Ashton-Lewis, his coat of arms polished, his crest printed on glossy letterhead, and his visiting card declaring him:

“His Lordship, the 6th Baron of Benington and 21st Lord of Huntingdon.”

The villagers pause. Silence falls. Finally, one elder leans toward another and whispers:

“Ratu Beni? Hunting-don? Is he from Cakaudrove or Lau?”

Paramount Chiefs vs Purchased Titles

In Fiji, titles like Tui Cakau or Tui Nayau carry centuries of authority, tied to land, lineage, and vanua.

But here’s the twist: Justice Ashton-Lewis’s “domains” - Benington and Huntingdon Fee (Wootton) - are in England, where the “subjects” are blissfully unaware they have a “lord” or a “baron” at all.

There are no ceremonies, no chiefly protocols, no yaqona vakaturaga. Just suburban lanes, postcodes, pubs, and maybe a Tesco Express supermarket.

The Unspoken Irony

In Fiji, the Judicial Services Commission and even Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka, steeped in chiefly culture, may have instinctively deferred to Justice Ashton-Lewis’s grand presentation.

In England, his “subjects” in Benington or Huntingdon Fee would have instructed their traffic warden to just hand him a parking fine for ‘illegal parking’ on their estate.

It’s a cultural mismatch of epic proportions: what sounds like ancestral power in Naitasiri reads like a purchasable vanity title in Hertfordshire.

The Kava Verdict

The villagers listen politely as Justice Ashton-Lewis explains his coat of arms and his “bridge” granted by the Queen.

When he finishes, the village herald clears his throat and declares:

“We thank the Baron and the Lord for coming. But here in Fiji, titles are earned, not bought. Please sit, David. Your bilo awaits.Taki Mada.”

And just like that, Baron of Benington and Lord of Huntingdon becomes simply David from Australia’s Gold Coast, Queensland, drinking kava like everyone else in Fiji. Taki.

“From Highlands to High Titles: How Fiji’s New ‘Baron’ and 21st ‘Lord of Huntingdon’ Found His Crest”

So, Fiji now has a Visiting Supreme Court judge who also happens to be the 6th Baron of Benington and the 21st Lord of Huntingdon.

And if that weren’t enough, Justice David Edward Ashton-Lewis proudly reminds us that, back in 1989, Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II granted him a coat of arms, a crest, a bridge, and a standard for “services to constitutions and constitutional law.”

Yes, you read that correctly: a bridge. One assumes metaphorical bridges, but with the British aristocracy, who can be sure?

Let’s take a moment to unpack this because the optics are fascinating, and the titles themselves raise questions about authenticity, privilege, and perception.

The Baron of Benington. Is There a Castle?

The title “Baron of Benington” has a rich medieval ring to it. Traditionally, a barony was tied to land granted by the Crown, complete with vassals, peasants, and the occasional feudal tax revolt.

But here’s the modern reality:

Most baronies today are not hereditary peerages in the House of Lords.
Instead, many are “manorial titles”, essentially historical curiosities, once attached to land but now often sold privately.

In the UK, there’s an entire market where you can purchase dormant or inactive baronies for anywhere between £5,000 and £100,000, depending on prestige and provenance.

In other words, you can be sipping tea on the Gold Coast one day and, after a wire transfer, be “His Lordship the 6th Baron of Benington” by the weekend. It doesn’t make you a peer of the realm, but it does add a regal flourish to your LinkedIn profile., and CV.

The 21st Lord of Huntingdon: A Historical Shadow

The Lordship of Huntingdon carries a more recognisable history. Traditionally, it referred to powerful noble families in England who held sway over Huntingdonshire, dating back to the 11th century.

However, titles like this often become detached from land and political authority, passing through sales, inheritances, and legal loopholes. By the time we reach the “21st Lord,” we’re not necessarily talking about someone with a castle, just someone with a signed deed of title.

In other words, while it sounds grand, in 2025 it’s far more likely to be a vanity title than a seat of power.

Why It Matters in Fiji

Titles like these carry perception power. For a Visiting Supreme Court judge and until recently the sole Commissioner of Inquiry into the Fiji Independent Commission of Inquiry, projecting British aristocratic status sends a particular message:

It suggests authority, tradition, and prestige.
But it can also raise eyebrows about elitism, self-styling, and whether purchased grandeur is being leveraged to command respect, and even judicial appointments.

In a nation like Fiji, where colonial history, constitutional upheavals, and questions of judicial independence are live political issues, the optics are complicated.

The Irony

Here we have a judge who investigated matters of integrity and accountability in Fiji, while simultaneously wearing titles that, at least in part, may be bought on the open market.

It’s perfectly legal. It’s perfectly respectable. But for ordinary Fijians, who do not live in a world of coats of arms and hereditary crests, it can look out of touch, or even self-aggrandising.

Justice Ashton-Lewis's career is, by any measure, remarkable:

Eight years as Deputy DPP in Papua New Guinea, mediating tribal disputes.
Contributions to constitutional law in developing nations.
Now serving as Supreme Court judge and former Commissioner of Inquiry in Fiji.

But in an era when judicial impartiality and public trust are fragile commodities, wrapping oneself in aristocratic heraldry, complete with coats of arms, crests, bridges, and banners, risks distracting from the substance of the role.

Because when you style yourself as a Baron and a Lord, people will inevitably ask:

"Did you inherit the power or just buy the name?"

In the South Pacific, constitutional crises are complex enough without imported baronies muddying the waters.

What the paper trail shows:

Baron of Benington” (Hertfordshire)

An official notice in the UK public record (The London Gazette) states that the “Feudal Barony Title of Benington” was conveyed to David Edward Ashton-Lewis on 22 July 2019, and adds that the title was “created by legal process, not through a re-grant or re-establishment by the Crown.”
Separately, the same title has been marketed for sale by a commercial broker (Manorial Counsel Ltd).
There is dispute around this title’s validity: critics run sites alleging the Benington “barony” being sold is not genuine and that the Gazette notices are misleading. These are allegations by private parties, not court rulings, but they exist and name the Benington case specifically.

“Lord of Huntingdon”

The Gazette shows that the “Manorial Lordship Title of Huntingdon Fee (Wootton, Northamptonshire)” was conveyed to David Edward Ashton-Lewis on 9 July 2019, again noting creation “by legal process,” not by the Crown. This is not the Earldom of Huntingdon; it is a manorial lordship tied to a place called Huntingdon Fee.
Historically, manorial lordships connected to “Huntingdon” have been bought and sold (e.g., the Lordship of the Manor of Huntingdon listed for auction in 1992). So the broad “Lord of Huntingdon” wording can refer to different manorial units, not the peerage.

What these titles are (and aren’t)

In England & Wales, “Lord of the Manor” and feudal/baronial styles are property rights (incorporeal hereditaments) that can be bought and sold; they are not peerages and do not confer a seat in the House of Lords. This is standard land-law doctrine reflected in HM Land Registry guidance and mainstream references.
“English feudal barony” is a historical tenure; modern English “baronies” sold today are not peerage dignities, and the old tenure effects were abolished in 1660 (with only vestiges surviving).
The Gazette is the UK’s official public record, but a notice there does not itself “create” nobility; it records what is submitted. Hence the occasional marketed title plus Gazette notice plus counter-claims dynamic you see around Benington.

How people buy them (in practice)

Commercial brokers regularly offer manorial lordships and “baronies” with solicitors’ letters and marketing materials; you can browse current stock and past brochures (prices commonly in the £5k–£30k band; sometimes more).
Examples of listings include Great Raveley (Huntingdonshire) and other Huntingdon-area manors, showing that “Huntingdon”-titled manorial units circulate on the market.

Shut Up or Be Jailed: The JSC, Isireli Fa, and the Long Shadow of Aiyaz Khaiyum’s War on Judicial Accountability. We concur with Naidu, 'No. It's not a crime for the Leader of Opposition to criticise Govt over COI Report'

8/10/2025

Fijileaks: To understand how we got here, we must return to the era when Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum held almost unchecked control over Fiji’s legal system. From 2007 onwards, following the Bainimarama coup, Khaiyum embarked on a systematic campaign to rewrite the rules of judicial review, the centuries-old mechanism that allows courts to scrutinise the actions of public authorities.

We stand firmly with Suva lawyer Richard Naidu, who has reminded this Coalition government, and its thin-skinned enforcers, that criticism is not a crime. Calling out government failures, questioning a Commission of Inquiry, or challenging the political narrative is not “interference”, nor is it “perverting the course of justice.”

Threatening legal action against the Opposition Leader Inia Seruiratu, or anyone else, for simply commenting on a public report is nothing short of an attempt to muzzle dissent. These are the same bullying tactics once used by Bainimarama and Khaiyum to silence their critics.

Fijians did not vote for change only to see the same culture of intimidation return under a different name. Naidu is right: we must not go back.

Robe and Robbery: How Judicial Review Became Khaiyum's Favourite Legal Loophole. He turned JR into His Personal Escape Hatch

It is the clearest sign yet that Fiji’s ruling legal establishment is feeling the pressure. In an extraordinary public statement this week, Isireli Fa, acting on behalf of the Judicial Services Commission (JSC), warned that continued public criticism of the Commission of Inquiry (COI) into the appointment of the FICAC Commissioner could result in contempt of court proceedings.

Fa’s words were chilling in their intent:

“Unwarranted and uninformed attacks on the JSC, on the Commission of Inquiry report, or on the judicial review process currently before the courts, using the news media or social media, could amount to contempt of court,” he declared.

“Those engaging in such conduct risk facing legal consequences.”

The message was unmistakable, aimed squarely at opposition leader Inia Seruiratu, civil society critics, and investigative journalists: “Shut up, or be jailed.”

But this threat is more than just legal sabre-rattling. It is the predictable culmination of nearly two decades of systemic legal engineering, a deliberate reshaping of Fiji’s judicial review system by former Attorney-General Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum. That restructuring was designed to blunt the courts’ ability to hold the executive accountable, while empowering state institutions to weaponise judicial processes against critics.

Today, that architecture is being deployed by Fa on behalf of the JSC, the very body meant to protect judicial independence, to shield itself from scrutiny and intimidate those who question its conduct.

A Chilling Warning to Parliament, and to the Public

Fa’s remarks came in direct response to comments by Opposition Leader Seruiratu, Rather than engage with those criticisms on their merits, the JSC’s legal counsel chose confrontation, suggesting that Seruiratu’s remarks and broader public commentary risk “interfering” with the court process.

Yet the COI report is not a judicial decision. It is a fact-finding exercise commissioned under statutory authority to examine the legality and propriety of Barbara Malimali's appointment, a matter of significant public interest. Its findings are not sub judice. They are, and must remain, open to vigorous public debate.

By casting such commentary as potential contempt Fa, on behalf of the JSC, is attempting something unprecedented: to police public discourse about JSC's own conduct. This is not about protecting the integrity of judicial proceedings. It is about controlling the narrative, and it sets a deeply dangerous precedent.

How Aiyaz Khaiyum Rewired Judicial Review

To understand how we got here, we must return to the era when Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum held almost unchecked control over Fiji’s legal system. From 2007 onwards, following the Bainimarama coup, Khaiyum embarked on a systematic campaign to rewrite the rules of judicial review, the centuries-old mechanism that allows courts to scrutinise the actions of public authorities.

Under the pre-2006 constitutional framework, judicial review was a robust, common law remedy. Citizens, civil society organisations, and Parliament itself could challenge unlawful executive decisions in the High Court. Judges had broad discretion to quash decisions, declare them invalid, or compel lawful action.

Khaiyum’s reforms changed all that. Through a series of decrees and constitutional amendments, he narrowed access to judicial review, curtailed judicial discretion, and carved out vast zones of government activity that were immune from court oversight. These included:

Standing restrictions that made it harder for NGOs or individuals to bring public interest challenges.
Short limitation periods (sometimes as little as 30 days) that barred late applications regardless of merit.
Ouster clauses that removed whole categories of decisions, especially those linked to the 2006 coup, emergency decrees, or “national security”, from judicial scrutiny.

And, most dramatically, Section 157 of the 2013 Constitution, which entrenched immunity for virtually all acts connected to the Bainimarama-Khaiyum regime.

The effect was transformative. Judicial review ceased to be a powerful check on state power and became a tightly controlled procedural tool, often used more effectively by state institutions against their critics than by citizens against the state.

Judicial Review Turned Inside Out

This inversion is precisely what we are witnessing now. Rather than the JSC being subject to judicial review for its actions, it is the JSC itself that has launched a judicial review, seeking to overturn the COI’s findings and to silence the public debate surrounding them.

In a democracy with a healthy constitutional order, that would be a deeply unusual step. Commissions of Inquiry are political and investigative instruments, and their findings are normally addressed by Parliament or executive action, not judicial quashing.

But in Khaiyum’s Fiji, where judicial review was stripped of its traditional safeguards and repurposed as a weapon, such a move is now not only possible but strategically advantageous.

The irony is stark: the very mechanism designed to hold power accountable is now being deployed by power to suppress accountability.

Contempt as a Weapon

Fa’s contempt warning is the logical next step in this strategy. By hinting that critics might face prosecution simply for commenting on a Commission report, the JSC’s lawyer is attempting to place public discourse itself under judicial supervision.

But contempt law is not a gag order. Its purpose is narrow and specific: to prevent acts that substantially interfere with the administration of justice, such as disobeying a court order, prejudicing a jury trial, or scandalising the judiciary through baseless attacks.

Criticising a Commission of Inquiry report, or the JSC’s decision to challenge it, does not meet that threshold. The COI is not a court. The judicial review is a matter of public interest, not a jury trial. And political leaders like Inia Seruiratu have a constitutional duty to hold state institutions to account.

Fa’s suggestion that such commentary “could amount to contempt” is therefore not a legal assessment. It is a strategic threat, one designed to chill public scrutiny and deter political criticism.

Fiji Truth and Reconciliation Commission is a FARCE but Let Perpetrators Speak FIRST. That means Sitiveni Rabuka, architect of 1987 coups, that means George Speight (2000). And Frank Bainimarama, the 2006 Coupist

8/10/2025

17 September 2025: GEORGE SPEIGHT attentively listening to Professor Steven Ratuva, the Pro-Vice Chancellor Pacific and Director of the Macmillan Brown Centre for Pacific Studies at the University of Canterbury, NZ. Ratuva was speaking at the Grand Pacific Hotel on the theme Turmoil and Hope: Where is Fiji Heading.

No More Victims on Display. Put the Perpetrators in the Witness Box First.
TRUTH Before TEARS. The Three Coupists Owe Fiji Their Testimony.
In other words, start with the Guilty and NOT the Grieving

"If the Commission truly seeks to foster “truth” before “reconciliation,” then the first witnesses who must appear are not the broken and the bereaved. That means Sitiveni Rabuka, architect of the 1987 coups that institutionalised racism and broke our democratic spine. It means George Speight, the public face of the 2000 putsch who, after orchestrating a hostage crisis and nearly plunging the country into civil war, now roams the streets as if nothing happened. And it means Frank Bainimarama, who justified his 2006 military coup as a “clean-up campaign” but left in its wake deep constitutional ruptures and widespread fear. They are the ones who authored the violence and chaos that ordinary Fijians are now being asked to relive.

The historic Fiji Truth and Reconciliation Commission held its first-ever public hearing today (7 October 2025) in Suva this morning. However, the family that was invited to share their story virtually on a Zoom call did not turn up. Regardless, the Commission reiterates that sharing stories of past trauma is not an easy task, and they encourage people to share their accounts with them. Source: FBC News

Let the Perpetrators Speak First. Then the Victims Will Follow

As Fiji’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission stumbles into its first round of public hearings, there is a glaring flaw in both its structure and its sequencing: the very people who orchestrated or benefited from the nation’s darkest chapters are nowhere to be seen. Instead, we are once again asking survivors to bare their pain before a room of commissioners, while those responsible walk free, some even still occupying positions of influence.

If the Commission truly seeks to foster “truth” before “reconciliation,” then the first witnesses who must appear are not the broken and the bereaved. That means Sitiveni Rabuka, architect of the 1987 coups that institutionalised racism and broke our democratic spine. It means George Speight, the public face of the 2000 putsch who, after orchestrating a hostage crisis and nearly plunging the country into civil war, now roams the streets as if nothing happened. And it means Frank Bainimarama, who justified his 2006 military coup as a “clean-up campaign” but left in its wake deep constitutional ruptures and widespread fear.

They are the ones who authored the violence and chaos that ordinary Fijians are now being asked to relive.

These men, and those who enabled them, should be summoned first. They should be placed under oath and asked, in front of the nation, to explain their actions: their motives, their networks, their orders, their regrets, if any. Only then will the process have moral weight. Only then will victims believe this Commission is not another stage-managed ritual designed to absorb their pain and do nothing with it.

At present, the message is backwards. We are asking victims to speak into a void, to relive traumas while the perpetrators enjoy impunity and, in some cases, political power. This not only risks re-traumatizing them, it reinforces the same hierarchy that allowed coups to happen in the first place: the powerful act, the powerless explain.

If the TRC wants to be more than an exercise in public catharsis, it must reverse that script. Begin with those who broke the nation, and then, once they have spoken, invite those who suffered to speak their truth. Only in that order will “reconciliation” mean anything more than a slogan.

It is a perverse inversion of justice. Survivors are invited to relive their trauma before a commission whose mandate is truth, yet the truth we most need to hear is not theirs. It is the truth held by the men who tore this country apart: Sitiveni Rabuka, George Speight, and Frank Bainimarama.

All three have shaped the trauma we now ask ordinary Fijians to recount. Yet all three remain beyond scrutiny: one as prime minister, one as a free man strolling the streets, and one as a former leader still casting a long shadow over our politics. Until they are compelled to speak, the TRC is little more than political theatre.

A real truth commission does not start with the broken. It starts with those who broke the nation. Until that happens, this exercise risks becoming another empty ritual, a stage for tears, but not for truth.

From Fijileaks Archives

Indo-Fijians punched and kicked freely outside old Suva Travelodge

"An Opponent of a Dictator Is An Enemy of the State"

“A Warning LETTER for A Criminal Offence”: The Constitutional Offices Commission’s Dereliction Exposed as Police Charge Acting Corrections Commissioner Sevuloni Naucukidi. Implications for COC and Rule of Law

7/10/2025

In July, the Constitutional Offices Commission (COC) quietly brushed off a serious complaint against Acting Fiji Corrections Service Commissioner Sevuloni Naucukidi, issuing nothing more than a “warning letter” after deliberating on allegations of misconduct.

Yet, just weeks later, police have formally charged him over the very same incident, forcing Naucukidi to withdraw from an official trip to New Zealand. The episode exposes the COC’s feeble disciplinary culture, raises disturbing questions about institutional accountability, and confirms what critics have long argued: Fiji’s oversight bodies exist to protect insiders, not the public.

LEGAL CONTEXT: COC’S DUTY TO ACT

Under Section 135 of the 2013 Constitution, the Constitutional Offices Commission exists to “advise the President on appointments, suspensions, and removals” of key constitutional office holders, including the Commissioner of Fiji Corrections Service.

The Constitutional Offices (Commission) Act 2013 reinforces this by requiring the Commission to ensure that all office-holders “maintain the highest standards of integrity, competence and conduct.”

A complaint alleging misconduct, particularly conduct that could constitute a criminal offence, triggers a positive duty on the Commission to conduct a rigorous investigation, and where necessary, to recommend suspension pending the outcome of criminal or disciplinary proceedings. Anything less risks breaching the principle of legality and undermining the rule of law.

The Commission’s letter dated 25 September 2025, however, shows none of that seriousness. It blandly records that the Commission “deliberated” on the complaint and decided that a warning letter was sufficient. There is no reference to an investigation, no referral to police, and no sign that the Commission even considered whether Naucukidi should be suspended pending further action.

We understand his alleged victim was not invited to provide a formal statement nor the video recording (which we have on us) was taken into account when the COC decided to give Naucukidi a "gentle, soft slap on the wrist".

From Warning to Charges: A Systemic Failure.

The gravity of the Commission’s failure is underscored by what happened next. Weeks after its decision, the Fiji Police Force formally charged Naucukidi, a development that has forced him to withdraw from a planned official trip to New Zealand and cast a long shadow over the credibility of the Fiji Corrections Service.

This stark divergence between the COC’s response and the police’s assessment of the same incident reveals three deeply troubling possibilities:

Gross Negligence: The Commission failed to obtain or consider key evidence that law enforcement later uncovered - evidence serious enough to justify criminal charges.
Deliberate Protection: The Commission had access to the facts but chose to allegedly shield a politically favoured appointee from proper scrutiny.
Institutional Paralysis: The Commission was unwilling to exercise its constitutional power to suspend or refer, preferring instead to issue a token reprimand and hope the matter disappeared.

Any one of these scenarios represents a profound failure of constitutional oversight.

Implications for Rule of Law

The consequences extend beyond one office-holder. The COC’s handling of this complaint undermines the principle of equality before the law, a bedrock of constitutional democracy. It sends a corrosive message that senior officials are treated differently from ordinary citizens, that misconduct in high office can be resolved with a letter, and that accountability is optional for those at the top.

It also risks contaminating ongoing and future prosecutions. Defence lawyers may well argue that the COC’s prior decision not to suspend or investigate amounts to official endorsement of the Commissioner’s conduct, a point that could complicate judicial proceedings and erode public confidence in the outcome.

COC's Credibility in Tatters

What Fiji is witnessing is not an isolated misstep but part of a broader culture of impunity within our constitutional watchdog institutions. The Constitutional Offices Commission has transformed from a guardian of accountability into a gatekeeper for the powerful.

A “warning letter” for conduct now deemed criminal is not merely inadequate. It is institutional complicity. It reflects a Commission that has forgotten its constitutional purpose and prioritised political convenience over public duty.

This scandal must now become a catalyst for reform. Parliament should immediately review the COC’s decision-making standards and consider statutory amendments to require mandatory suspension where criminal conduct is alleged.

The public, too, must demand transparency: the contents of the complaint, the Commission’s reasoning, and any legal advice it relied upon should all be disclosed.

Until that happens, one uncomfortable truth remains: Fiji’s constitutional safeguards are being dismantled from within.

*Charged, Bailed, and Cleared to Leave Fiji:
How a Criminally Accused Acting Fiji Corrections Service Commissioner Was Given the Green Light to Travel to NZ Before His Trial

The Ministry of Justice confirms, in a statement, that the Acting Commissioner of Corrections, Sevuloni Naucukidi, has written to the Minister for Justice and Acting Attorney-General Siromi Turaga, formally advising that he is withdrawing from the Minister’s upcoming official delegation to New Zealand this week. Turaga acknowledges and respects Naucukidi’s decision and appreciates his continued leadership in maintaining the effective operation and stability of the Corrections Service during this period.

Fiji’s justice system has once again bent the law into a pretzel to protect the powerful.

Acting Corrections Commissioner Sevuloni Naucukidi was charged and granted bail over this week yet instead of being treated like any other accused person, he returned to court days later to seek permission to travel overseas.

Incredibly, the Magistrates Court granted the application. No prosecutor opposed it. His passport remained in his possession. And he was set to board a flight to New Zealand before abruptly withdrawing from the trip amid public outrage and growing scrutiny. It is a textbook case of elite privilege, and a damning indictment of how Fiji’s criminal justice system treats the powerful.

Why this decision defies Logic, and the Law

Bail Law Was Designed to Prevent Exactly This

Bail is not a courtesy. It’s a legal mechanism to ensure an accused:

Appears in court,
Does not reoffend,
Does not interfere with witnesses,
And does not abscond from the jurisdiction.

Granting international travel to an accused person, particularly one holding a sensitive public office, undermines all four objectives. It introduces risk, creates opportunity for flight, and erodes public confidence in the administration of justice.

A Public Official Facing Criminal Charges Should Be Suspended, Not Flying Overseas to rub shoulders with Fiji's Acting Attorney-General Siromi TURAGA

Naucukidi is not an ordinary defendant. As Acting Fiji Corrections Service Commissioner, he oversees the imprisonment of others. Allowing him to leave Fiji before his first plea hearing doesn’t just look bad. It trashes the principle of equality before the law under Section 13 of the Constitution.

How can citizens have confidence in a justice system that locks up the poor for minor offences while allowing a charged official to represent the state abroad?

Prosecutorial Inaction Is Unforgivable

Perhaps most controversial is that the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions (ODPP) did not oppose the travel application. The DPP had a clear path to argue that travel should be denied pending plea. It chose not to. That decision cannot be justified in law or public policy.

Judicial Discretion Misapplied

Yes, courts have discretion to allow overseas travel under bail. But discretion must be exercised in the public interest, and in a way that upholds confidence in the justice system. This decision did neither. It was a misjudgment that has now backfired, forcing Naucukidi to withdraw from his trip under public and institutional pressure.

A System That Shields Its Own

Let us be clear: this is not an isolated lapse. It is part of a pattern, a culture of impunity in which public officials are handled with velvet gloves while ordinary people face the full weight of the law.

The Constitutional Offices Commission brushed off the original misconduct complaint with a mere warning letter.
The DPP stood by silently as a charged man asked for permission to leave the jurisdiction.
The Magistracy said yes without regard for public confidence or the appearance of justice.

Only after the public learned of the travel plan did Naucukidi quietly withdraw, a tactical retreat that changes nothing about the disgraceful decisions that preceded it.

Fijileaks Call to Action

Fiji’s Parliament must act now to close this loophole. We call for:

Automatic suspension of any constitutional office-holder upon criminal charge.
Mandatory passport surrender in all indictable cases, regardless of status.
Judicial review of bail variations in cases involving public officials, with written reasons made public.
Prosecutorial accountability: the DPP must explain why travel was not opposed.

Until such reforms are enacted, Fiji will remain a country where the law is firm on the powerless but bends and bows before the powerful.

A man charged with a criminal offence and entrusted with enforcing the law should never have been cleared to leave the country. The fact that he was, and only backed down when exposed, is proof that the system itself is on trial.

*COC in 2015 and Ten Years Later in 2025. From Dictatorship to Democracy? More Like Musical Chairs. Same COC, Different Faces

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*The Education Minister’s recent call for stability and sound governance at Fiji National University reads like déjà vu, almost word-for-word from the roadmap report, which had already mapped out the very same reforms now being demanded.

TEN YEARS AGO, 2015: From Fijileaks Archives

May 2025: From The Fiji Times:

From Fijileaks Archives

To FICAC and Election Supervisor MOHAMMED SANEEM:

If anyone was “caught with pants down,” it was the man - Kamal Iyer - who couldn’t read the fine print of a press statement before picking a fight over it.

*When will Sugar Minister and Minister for Multi-Ethnic Affairs focus on multi-ethnic issues where minority races are increasingly marginalised in top government appointments?

NFP party leader still on the run after being cornered by FICAC but was let loose by the sacked Ficac Commissioner Malimali from the 'Ficac Mouse Trap'

The Right Salute: Why President Ratu Naiqama Lalabalavu's Presence with Fijian Soldiers in the British Army Honoured the True Spirit of Fiji Day

Rabuka: Bring Back South African 'Apartheid'

Fijileaks: Astonishingly, in June 2000, shortly after George Speight and others seized Parliament, Rabuka told the world that the old South Africa might be a model for Fiji. ​​He no longer seemed to believe in a multi-racial chamber.

*And, Your loud chants of 2022 will lie, like an overfed crocodile, in the National Archives of Fiji, preserved for generations as proof that noise is not the same as truth. You were the ones who fed the crocodile and told the Fijian VOTERS it was a misunderstood vegan.

Robe and Robbery: How Judicial Review Became Khaiyum's Favourite Legal Loophole. He turned JR into His Personal Escape Hatch

No More Victims on Display. Put the Perpetrators in the Witness Box First.TRUTH Before TEARS. The Three Coupists Owe Fiji Their Testimony.In other words, start with the Guilty and NOT the Grieving

From Fijileaks Archives

Indo-Fijians punched and kicked freely outside old Suva Travelodge

"An Opponent of a Dictator Is An Enemy of the State"

*Charged, Bailed, and Cleared to Leave Fiji: ​How a Criminally Accused Acting Fiji Corrections Service Commissioner Was Given the Green Light to Travel to NZ Before His Trial

Fiji’s justice system has once again bent the law into a pretzel to protect the powerful.

*COC in 2015 and Ten Years Later in 2025. From Dictatorship to Democracy? More Like Musical Chairs. Same COC, Different Faces

Archives

The Education Minister’s recent call for stability and sound governance at Fiji National University reads like déjà vu,* almost word-for-word from the roadmap report, which had already mapped out the very same reforms now being demanded.

When will Sugar Minister and Minister for Multi-Ethnic Affairs focus on multi-ethnic issues where minority* races are increasingly marginalised in top government appointments?

Fijileaks: Astonishingly, in June 2000, shortly after George Speight and others seized Parliament, Rabuka told the world that the old South Africa might be a model for Fiji.

He no longer seemed to believe in a multi-racial chamber.

No More Victims on Display. Put the Perpetrators in the Witness Box First.
TRUTH Before TEARS. The Three Coupists Owe Fiji Their Testimony.
In other words, start with the Guilty and NOT the Grieving

*Charged, Bailed, and Cleared to Leave Fiji:
How a Criminally Accused Acting Fiji Corrections Service Commissioner Was Given the Green Light to Travel to NZ Before His Trial