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On 27 August 2025, Professor Pal Ahluwalia walked out of the University of the South Pacific for the last time as Vice-Chancellor. You’d think this would be a moment of unity—a chance for the Pacific’s premier regional university to draw a line under six chaotic years, reflect on lessons learned, and move forward. Instead, USP’s send-off for Ahluwalia felt less like a dignified farewell and more like a messy Facebook brawl at the Laucala campus cafeteria, complete with bruised egos, wounded loyalties, and one recurring theme: Sole Factory. |  Semi Tukana on his Facebook: The photo below was taken on 14th February 2023 when Prof Pal was allowed back into the country after Rabuka's victorious 2022 election. It shows the Four Musketeers; Viliame Naulivou, Prof. Pal Ahluwalia, His Excellency President of Nauru Lionel Aigimea, and Semi Tukana. Four members of the USP Council who stood and fought for Pal Ahluwalia's reinstatement after his deportation on the 4th February 2021 by the then Fiji regime. |
 |   “From where a number of us sit, Semi has without a doubt benefitted from the friendship/collegiality with Pal. He used Council meetings to market Sole.” Elizabeth Fong |
Pal Ahluwalia Waves Goodbye, USP Keeps Fighting:
A Vice-Chancellor Departs, but the Drama Refuses to Go
Elizabeth Fong Fijileaks:
You’d think that on the 27th of August 2025, the University of the South Pacific would pause to reflect on six turbulent years under Professor Pal Ahluwalia’s leadership. You’d think there would be solemnity, some gracious farewells, maybe a few tears.
But this is the USP. And this is Pal Ahluwalia. And nothing—absolutely nothing—happens quietly here. Because even as Ahluwalia waved goodbye to Laucala, the campus and its alumni were still hurling rhetorical stones at each other across Facebook, WhatsApp, and whatever’s left of USP’s reputation.
The Saint vs The Sceptics
To Ahluwalia's supporters, he leaves canonised—the heroic Vice-Chancellor who dared to expose corruption, fought off “FFP regime” meddling, survived deportation in 2021, staged a triumphant return in 2023, and presided over USP’s finances like some benevolent prophet.
You’d think that on the 27th of August 2025, the University of the South Pacific would pause to reflect on six turbulent years under Professor Pal Ahluwalia’s leadership. You’d think there would be solemnity, some gracious farewells, maybe a few tears.
But this is the USP. And this is Pal Ahluwalia. And nothing—absolutely nothing—happens quietly here. Because even as Ahluwalia waved goodbye to Laucala, the campus and its alumni were still hurling rhetorical stones at each other across Facebook, WhatsApp, and whatever’s left of USP’s reputation.
The Saint vs The Sceptics
To Ahluwalia's supporters, he leaves canonised—the heroic Vice-Chancellor who dared to expose corruption, fought off “FFP regime” meddling, survived deportation in 2021, staged a triumphant return in 2023, and presided over USP’s finances like some benevolent prophet.
Elizabeth Fong—once a proud USP insider—couldn’t resist lobbing a grenade into the nostalgia parade. Her Facebook comment drips with weary disdain:
“From where a number of us sit, Semi [Tukana] has without a doubt benefitted from the friendship/collegiality with Pal. He used Council meetings to market Sole.”
Ouch. Nothing like accusing a USP Council member of turning regional higher education governance into a trade expo for his side hustle.
Semi Tukana: Entrepreneur, Martyr, Travel Influencer
Naturally, Semi Tukana couldn’t let Fong's response stand.
His response—a masterpiece of self-congratulation and unintentional comedy—deserves to be immortalised:
“My dear sister Libby, I thought you’d be proud of your brother Semi Tukana, proud of an alumni of USP who is an entrepreneur. I used every opportunity available to me to promote Sole and Software Factory everywhere the USP Council takes me.”
His response—a masterpiece of self-congratulation and unintentional comedy—deserves to be immortalised:
“My dear sister Libby, I thought you’d be proud of your brother Semi Tukana, proud of an alumni of USP who is an entrepreneur. I used every opportunity available to me to promote Sole and Software Factory everywhere the USP Council takes me.”
| Semi Tukana wants you to know two things:
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Well, Tukana, judging by the thread, quite a few staff members might prefer you sipping pina coladas silently rather than turning USP’s Council chambers into a Sole showroom.
While "Semi and Libby" duel over whose virtue shines brighter, Abel Caine chimes in like the weary chorus in a Shakespearean tragedy:
“That’s a one-sided story [by Tukana] making Pal out to be some sort of hero. He has incurred the hatred of hundreds of USP staff who will be happy to throw stones at his car and spit in his face when he leaves USP for the last time.”
Ah yes—the spirit of academia, alive and well. Nothing screams “regional unity” like threatening to stone the departing Vice-Chancellor’s car.
While "Semi and Libby" duel over whose virtue shines brighter, Abel Caine chimes in like the weary chorus in a Shakespearean tragedy:
“That’s a one-sided story [by Tukana] making Pal out to be some sort of hero. He has incurred the hatred of hundreds of USP staff who will be happy to throw stones at his car and spit in his face when he leaves USP for the last time.”
Ah yes—the spirit of academia, alive and well. Nothing screams “regional unity” like threatening to stone the departing Vice-Chancellor’s car.
The Ten-Time Conqueror of the USP Council: Viliame Naulivou’s Heroic Struggles Against Minutes of Meetings. One of Ahluwalia's Muskeeters!
 In a Facebook post brimming with self-congratulation, Viliame Naulivou, Chairman of the University of the South Pacific Students Association, reminisces about his “defining battles” at the USP Council—claiming to have emerged “ten times a conqueror and victor.” According to Naulivou, the Council chambers were less a meeting room and more a battlefield. While others discussed policy, budgets, and governance, Naulivou was apparently “leading through the fiercest of battles,” accumulating lessons, resilience, and courage along the way. But the pièce de résistance lies in his tribute to “my three warriors, my greatest motivation”-Professor Pal Ahluwalia, Lionel Aingimea, and Semi Tukana - whom he elevates to mythical status. In Naulivou’s telling, these men weren’t just university administrators and policymakers; they were akin to a band of legendary musketeers, inspiring his “conviction, courage, and unshakable faith” as he defended students from procedural reforms. | From Student Warrior to Fintech Visionary: Viliame Naulivou Reinvents Himself (Again) *Viliame Naulivou, former Chairman of the University of the South Pacific Students Association, has taken to Facebook to recount his days as a “ten-time conqueror” of the USP Council — but his current profile tells a different story. Today, Naulivou brands himself as a Western Marketing Consultant at Sole Fintech and an entrepreneur, projecting the image of a rising regional business influencer.   |
The dramatic flourish is vintage Naulivou:
“These men showed me what it means to stand firm in truth, even when the storms rage.”
They survived heated debates over who pays student fees.
What Naulivou doesn’t say—and what matters in the broader context—is that this heroic framing dovetails neatly with the USP factional politics surrounding Pal Ahluwalia’s controversial tenure.
Naulivou’s post positions him as a loyal foot soldier in the Ahluwalia camp, part of the network that fought against Fiji’s government-aligned representatives on the Council. By elevating Ahluwalia and Aingimea as “warriors,” Naulivou doubles down on the narrative of embattled reformers versus shadowy enemies—a storyline that served USP’s anti-Fiji bloc for years.
For all the talk of “sacrifice” and “storms,” the actual outcomes for USP students remain debatable. While Naulivou claims victory, the university’s governance crisis dragged on, student voices were marginalised, and the Fiji government froze funding. Yet here we are, treated to a hero’s memoir of conquering bureaucratic skirmishes.
In short, Viliame Naulivou casts himself [below] as a ten-time David taking on Goliath, only this Goliath was a stack of agenda papers—and the sling was a motion to adjourn.
“These men showed me what it means to stand firm in truth, even when the storms rage.”
They survived heated debates over who pays student fees.
What Naulivou doesn’t say—and what matters in the broader context—is that this heroic framing dovetails neatly with the USP factional politics surrounding Pal Ahluwalia’s controversial tenure.
Naulivou’s post positions him as a loyal foot soldier in the Ahluwalia camp, part of the network that fought against Fiji’s government-aligned representatives on the Council. By elevating Ahluwalia and Aingimea as “warriors,” Naulivou doubles down on the narrative of embattled reformers versus shadowy enemies—a storyline that served USP’s anti-Fiji bloc for years.
For all the talk of “sacrifice” and “storms,” the actual outcomes for USP students remain debatable. While Naulivou claims victory, the university’s governance crisis dragged on, student voices were marginalised, and the Fiji government froze funding. Yet here we are, treated to a hero’s memoir of conquering bureaucratic skirmishes.
In short, Viliame Naulivou casts himself [below] as a ten-time David taking on Goliath, only this Goliath was a stack of agenda papers—and the sling was a motion to adjourn.
USP: University of Sole Promotions
Council trips, free dinners, and marketing your private company at student forums?
The Farewell That Turned Into a Firefight
Pal Ahluwalia's allies flooded social media with tributes, hailing his “visionary leadership,” “fearless stance against corruption,” and “financial miracles.” Then came Elizabeth Fong.
In a blistering Facebook comment, the veteran USP insider accused fellow Council member Semi Tukana of turning USP’s highest governing body into a traveling sales pitch:
“Semi used Council meetings held in Fiji and the region to market Sole. He also found favour for appointment to the USP Student Association Council. He has had opportunity to use both Councils to support Sole.”
In other words, while the VC fought governments, Semi Tukana fought for market share.
Semi Tukana's Reply: Entrepreneur or Opportunist?
Semi Tukana, never one to duck a public scrap, fired back with a response that reads like a LinkedIn post disguised as a confession: “I used every opportunity available to me to promote Sole and Software Factory everywhere the USP Council takes me. Would you rather see Semi lay around the swimming pool drinking pina coladas, or see him hustle for business?”
He even boasts that a typical USP Council meeting costs him “four days away from normal business routine” and that his daily rate is “AUD 1,400”—before reassuring us that, naturally, USP covers his flights and meals.
Tukana frames this as entrepreneurial grit. To critics, it looks uncomfortably like leveraging a public role for private gain. And that, right there, is where the rot shows.
Where Governance Ends and Hustle Begins
USP isn’t just any university. It’s a multi-country, multi-million-dollar institution, funded largely by taxpayers across the Pacific. Council members are supposed to safeguard its interests, not turn official meetings into product launches.
Using USP Council travel to promote a personal business—especially while holding influence over student association agendas—isn’t just ethically questionable. Depending on what was promised, approved, or encouraged, it may cross into governance failure territory.
Elizabeth Fong even recalls a 2023 USP Council meeting in Nadi, where Sole was placed on the agenda under dubious circumstances:
“A student rep from a Micronesian country asked who this man was presenting on Sole. I replied Semi Tukana of Fiji. The student said, ‘It appears he is using USP to sell his company!’”
If accurate, that’s not just awkward—that’s a potential conflict of interest.
Pal Ahluwalia's Role in All This: And where does Ahluwalia fit in?
According to Fong and others, Ahluwalia shielded allies and rewarded loyalty—critics allege he facilitated Sole’s prominence within USP networks while marginalising dissenters.
Meanwhile, Ahluwalia's defenders paint a different picture: a Vice-Chancellor fighting political persecution, deported by the FijiFirst regime in 2021, reinstated by a defiant USP Council, and forced to steer the university through COVID while Fiji withheld $90 million in grants.
Both narratives can’t be true at once. But in classic USP style, both are passionately believed.
The Aftertaste of Pal Ahluwalia's Tenure
For all his achievements—no staff redundancies, no base salary cuts, boosting USP’s cash reserves from $20m to $120m—Ahluwalia leaves behind an institution deeply fractured:
In this environment, it’s almost impossible to separate legitimate reform from personal vendetta—or integrity from opportunism.
The USP Brand Problem
Here’s the brutal truth: while students struggle with rising fees and under-resourced programmes, USP’s leaders seem preoccupied with settling scores, marketing their own businesses, and rewriting history on Facebook threads.
Ahluwalia departs carrying both plaudits and resentment, while Semi Tukana prepares for the next Council trip, ready to promote Sole to yet another captive audience—and maybe sip that pina colada after all.
The Pacific deserves better than this. Its premier regional university should be a centre of excellence, not a stage for personal hustles and political theatre.
Fijileaks Editorial Verdict
Pal Ahluwalia exits.
Semi Tukana hustles.
Elizabeth Fong fumes.
USP stays stuck.
The Vice-Chancellor may be gone, but the smell of Sole lingers long after his farewell.
When Council meetings double as business expos, who’s really safeguarding the Pacific’s premier university?
USP is not a private club. It’s a taxpayer-funded, regionally owned institution meant to serve students, research, and Pacific development.
If Council meetings have become free advertising platforms or arenas for settling personal scores, then member governments and donor partners have a right—even an obligation—to demand accountability.
For now, the optics are ugly:
USP deserves better. The region deserves better.
And Fijileaks will keep digging.
Council trips, free dinners, and marketing your private company at student forums?
The Farewell That Turned Into a Firefight
Pal Ahluwalia's allies flooded social media with tributes, hailing his “visionary leadership,” “fearless stance against corruption,” and “financial miracles.” Then came Elizabeth Fong.
In a blistering Facebook comment, the veteran USP insider accused fellow Council member Semi Tukana of turning USP’s highest governing body into a traveling sales pitch:
“Semi used Council meetings held in Fiji and the region to market Sole. He also found favour for appointment to the USP Student Association Council. He has had opportunity to use both Councils to support Sole.”
In other words, while the VC fought governments, Semi Tukana fought for market share.
Semi Tukana's Reply: Entrepreneur or Opportunist?
Semi Tukana, never one to duck a public scrap, fired back with a response that reads like a LinkedIn post disguised as a confession: “I used every opportunity available to me to promote Sole and Software Factory everywhere the USP Council takes me. Would you rather see Semi lay around the swimming pool drinking pina coladas, or see him hustle for business?”
He even boasts that a typical USP Council meeting costs him “four days away from normal business routine” and that his daily rate is “AUD 1,400”—before reassuring us that, naturally, USP covers his flights and meals.
Tukana frames this as entrepreneurial grit. To critics, it looks uncomfortably like leveraging a public role for private gain. And that, right there, is where the rot shows.
Where Governance Ends and Hustle Begins
USP isn’t just any university. It’s a multi-country, multi-million-dollar institution, funded largely by taxpayers across the Pacific. Council members are supposed to safeguard its interests, not turn official meetings into product launches.
Using USP Council travel to promote a personal business—especially while holding influence over student association agendas—isn’t just ethically questionable. Depending on what was promised, approved, or encouraged, it may cross into governance failure territory.
Elizabeth Fong even recalls a 2023 USP Council meeting in Nadi, where Sole was placed on the agenda under dubious circumstances:
“A student rep from a Micronesian country asked who this man was presenting on Sole. I replied Semi Tukana of Fiji. The student said, ‘It appears he is using USP to sell his company!’”
If accurate, that’s not just awkward—that’s a potential conflict of interest.
Pal Ahluwalia's Role in All This: And where does Ahluwalia fit in?
According to Fong and others, Ahluwalia shielded allies and rewarded loyalty—critics allege he facilitated Sole’s prominence within USP networks while marginalising dissenters.
Meanwhile, Ahluwalia's defenders paint a different picture: a Vice-Chancellor fighting political persecution, deported by the FijiFirst regime in 2021, reinstated by a defiant USP Council, and forced to steer the university through COVID while Fiji withheld $90 million in grants.
Both narratives can’t be true at once. But in classic USP style, both are passionately believed.
The Aftertaste of Pal Ahluwalia's Tenure
For all his achievements—no staff redundancies, no base salary cuts, boosting USP’s cash reserves from $20m to $120m—Ahluwalia leaves behind an institution deeply fractured:
- Council members trading personal insults on Facebook.
- Allegations of preferential treatment and side deals.
- Staff still bitter enough to threaten stoning his car on departure.
- A governance culture where lines between personal ambition, institutional duty, and political loyalty remain hopelessly blurred.
In this environment, it’s almost impossible to separate legitimate reform from personal vendetta—or integrity from opportunism.
The USP Brand Problem
Here’s the brutal truth: while students struggle with rising fees and under-resourced programmes, USP’s leaders seem preoccupied with settling scores, marketing their own businesses, and rewriting history on Facebook threads.
Ahluwalia departs carrying both plaudits and resentment, while Semi Tukana prepares for the next Council trip, ready to promote Sole to yet another captive audience—and maybe sip that pina colada after all.
The Pacific deserves better than this. Its premier regional university should be a centre of excellence, not a stage for personal hustles and political theatre.
Fijileaks Editorial Verdict
Pal Ahluwalia exits.
Semi Tukana hustles.
Elizabeth Fong fumes.
USP stays stuck.
The Vice-Chancellor may be gone, but the smell of Sole lingers long after his farewell.
When Council meetings double as business expos, who’s really safeguarding the Pacific’s premier university?
USP is not a private club. It’s a taxpayer-funded, regionally owned institution meant to serve students, research, and Pacific development.
If Council meetings have become free advertising platforms or arenas for settling personal scores, then member governments and donor partners have a right—even an obligation—to demand accountability.
For now, the optics are ugly:
- A departing VC feted like a saint.
- A Council member boasting about hustling Sole Factory across the Pacific.
- Alumni and insiders openly trading accusations of opportunism and cronyism.
USP deserves better. The region deserves better.
And Fijileaks will keep digging.
From Fijileaks Archive, 22 October 2024
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JUSTICE Delayed Is Justice Denied: FICAC Must Charge the NFP leader, Deputy PM and Finance Minister Biman Prasad Without Further Excuse
On 5 September 2024, Fiji’s Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Finance, Biman Prasad, was set to be formally charged by the Fiji Independent Commission Against Corruption (FICAC) on allegations arising from his 2014 false declarations under the Political Parties Act and related matters.
The legal advice underpinning this prosecution came from none other than Richard Naidu, Prasad’s own lawyer, who had assessed the evidence and advised that charges were imminent and inevitable.
But on 4 September 2024—the day before charges were to be filed--Barbara Malimali was abruptly appointed FICAC Commissioner. Within 24 hours, she was arrested by her own FICAC officers on unrelated grounds.
Amidst the chaos, the Fiji Law Society (FLS), led by President Wylie Clarke, and other senior lawyers intervened behind the scenes. By 5 September, the process had been derailed.
Since then, nearly a year has passed. Biman Prasad has never been charged.
The Law and the EVIDENCE Has Not Changed. Only the Will to Act
The legal advice underpinning this prosecution came from none other than Richard Naidu, Prasad’s own lawyer, who had assessed the evidence and advised that charges were imminent and inevitable.
But on 4 September 2024—the day before charges were to be filed--Barbara Malimali was abruptly appointed FICAC Commissioner. Within 24 hours, she was arrested by her own FICAC officers on unrelated grounds.
Amidst the chaos, the Fiji Law Society (FLS), led by President Wylie Clarke, and other senior lawyers intervened behind the scenes. By 5 September, the process had been derailed.
Since then, nearly a year has passed. Biman Prasad has never been charged.
The Law and the EVIDENCE Has Not Changed. Only the Will to Act
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