*And so the back pay story, like so many scandals of the Bainimarama years, ends not with justice but with immunity. Not with accountability, but with a shrug from the bench. Fiji deserves better. But for now, Frank Bainimarama can keep his back pay. The Supreme Court (indirectly) says so.
*However, sources claim that Bainimarama paid back all the leave pay.
 *It was I who, in 2010 on Coupfourpointfive (C4/5), blew the lid off Bainimarama’s back-pay scam. In the wake of the 2006 coup, I exposed how the dictator and his then Interim Finance Minister Mahendra Chaudhry quietly engineered a $205,000 leave payout while the nation was reeling under military rule. *The expose was based on Bainimarama's own curriculum vitae - leaked to me along with hundreds of highly sensitive documents from the RFMF headquarters by military officers opposed to the 2006 coup. *Years later, Fijileaks faithfully reproduced the evidence, reminding readers how power and guns - not law or justice - delivered that windfall. |   |
When Fijileaks’ founding Editor-in-Chief exposed the scandal, it stood as proof that raw power had replaced the rule of law.
Understanding the Bainimarama Back-Pay Table
| The table shows how Bainimarama’s 698 days of leave, supposedly carried forward from 1978 onwards, was converted into a massive payout in 2007 after the coup. Here’s what those numbers really meant: 698 days leave This was the foundation of the claim: almost two years’ worth of leave supposedly never taken, rolled forward over nearly three decades. In any normal civil service system, leave expires or is capped - not banked indefinitely like a savings account. Daily rate: $293.28 His back pay was calculated using a 2006/2007 salary rate, not the lower rates he was actually on in the 1980s and 1990s. This inflated the value of each “old” leave day, multiplying the payout by tens of thousands. |  |
Basic Pay: $204,703.29
Multiplying the 698 days by the daily rate produced this staggering figure. This was the core of the back pay — but it was essentially fictional, because it assumed all those days were carried forward and all were payable at the highest rate.
Allowances (stacked on top):
These extra allowances were layered on top of the basic leave claim, fattening the payout even further. In effect, Bainimarama was paid as though he had “served” those leave days while simultaneously being absent.
Gross total: $224,814.84
This was the combined sum of the basic leave payout plus all allowances.
Less FNPF deduction: $20,406.71
A compulsory Fiji National Provident Fund deduction was subtracted. This gave the scheme a veneer of “legitimacy” — as if the payout was just another salary item with proper statutory deductions.
Net pay-out: $205,147.29
This was the figure Bainimarama pocketed.
Why the Table Matters
Impossible Leave Accrual: No military or civil service regulation allowed 698 days to accumulate across 30 years.
Wrong Salary Base: Calculating at 2006 daily rates for leave allegedly earned in the 1970s–90s massively inflated the payout.
Stacked Allowances: He wasn’t just paid basic salary for unused leave; he claimed every conceivable allowance too.
Cosmetic Deduction: The FNPF deduction was designed to make the payment look legitimate, but it only disguised a politically driven cash grab.
Basically, Bainimarama’s “leave back pay” was not a routine HR matter. It was a coup dividend, conjured by decree and approved by his political ally Mahendra Chaudhry.
Multiplying the 698 days by the daily rate produced this staggering figure. This was the core of the back pay — but it was essentially fictional, because it assumed all those days were carried forward and all were payable at the highest rate.
Allowances (stacked on top):
- Service allowance: $29,139.11
- Duty allowance: $23,013.92
- Gratuity allowance: $24,069.00
- Expense allowance: $3,832.02
- Overtime & miscellaneous: $20,057.50
These extra allowances were layered on top of the basic leave claim, fattening the payout even further. In effect, Bainimarama was paid as though he had “served” those leave days while simultaneously being absent.
Gross total: $224,814.84
This was the combined sum of the basic leave payout plus all allowances.
Less FNPF deduction: $20,406.71
A compulsory Fiji National Provident Fund deduction was subtracted. This gave the scheme a veneer of “legitimacy” — as if the payout was just another salary item with proper statutory deductions.
Net pay-out: $205,147.29
This was the figure Bainimarama pocketed.
Why the Table Matters
Impossible Leave Accrual: No military or civil service regulation allowed 698 days to accumulate across 30 years.
Wrong Salary Base: Calculating at 2006 daily rates for leave allegedly earned in the 1970s–90s massively inflated the payout.
Stacked Allowances: He wasn’t just paid basic salary for unused leave; he claimed every conceivable allowance too.
Cosmetic Deduction: The FNPF deduction was designed to make the payment look legitimate, but it only disguised a politically driven cash grab.
Basically, Bainimarama’s “leave back pay” was not a routine HR matter. It was a coup dividend, conjured by decree and approved by his political ally Mahendra Chaudhry.
Frank Bainimarama has been having a rough season. His pension got sliced down in court, a humiliating moment for a man who once treated public coffers like his personal wallet. One might think that the gods of accountability were finally catching up. But no. Along comes the Supreme Court like a guardian angel with Section 157 in its robes, waving away any thought of dragging the former Commander into court over his infamous 2007 back pay.
Yes, you remember it. The $184,000 “back pay” for unclaimed leave. Leave that, by the way, he was never entitled to claim in the first place, since soldiers are paid to serve, not to hoard fictional holiday entitlements like frequent flyer points. And who signed off on this fantasy payout? None other than Mahendra Chaudhry, then Interim Finance Minister. The whole deal stank then, and it stinks now.
But here’s the punchline: the Supreme Court has just reminded us all that in Fiji, corruption committed between 2006 and 2014 is not a crime. It’s a constitutional right. Section 157 of the 2013 Constitution ensures that. Immunity! Absolute. Untouchable. A get-out-of-jail-free card written in permanent ink.
So while Bainimarama may have to count his cents in retirement, and yes, his pension loss must sting, he can still sleep soundly knowing no prosecutor will ever darken his doorstep over the back pay scam. The judges have ruled it so. The Constitution demands it. The rule of law, apparently, requires that the law not apply to him.
Let’s be clear: if the 1997 Constitution still governed us, Bainimarama and Chaudhry would be ripe for prosecution. Abuse of Office. Corrupt Practices. Stealing by Public Servant. Pick your poison. There’s no statute of limitations for fraud. They could be hauled to court tomorrow. But alas, Section 157 slammed that courtroom door shut and welded it closed.
And the irony? Bainimarama with the help of Aiyaz Khaiyum (the very architect of the 2013 Constitution), has now been saved by his own handiwork. Imagine that: drafting your own immunity clause, enforcing it at gunpoint, and years later, having the nation’s highest court validate it as perfectly lawful. You could almost admire the foresight, if it weren’t so nakedly corrupt.
Meanwhile, ordinary Fijians have no such protections. Steal a tin of fish from MH, and you’ll be paraded through court before the week is out. But help yourself to $184,000 from the Treasury, and the Constitution itself becomes your lawyer, your judge, and your jury. “Case dismissed - permanently.”
So, let’s raise a glass to the Supreme Court’s ruling. It has ensured that Bainimarama’s pension may be trimmed, his reputation may be in tatters, but his criminal liability is safe, secure, and untouchable. Fiji’s founding fathers never dreamed of such a Constitution. Only Bainimarama could have invented it, and only Bainimarama could have needed it this badly.
As for Mahendra Chaudhry, well, he too can breathe easy. His signature on the back pay cheque will never be Exhibit A in a trial. Immunity covers him like a warm blanket. The taxpayers may gnash their teeth, the Auditor-General may shake his head, but the law - such as it was in Bainimarama’s Fiji - is clear: corruption between 2006 and 2014 is not corruption. It is constitutionally protected innovation.
And so the back pay story, like so many scandals of the Bainimarama years, ends not with justice but with immunity. Not with accountability but with a shrug from the bench. Fiji deserves better. But for now, Frank Bainimarama can keep his back pay.
The Supreme Court of Fiji says so. Sources claim Bainimarama paid back the money.
Yes, you remember it. The $184,000 “back pay” for unclaimed leave. Leave that, by the way, he was never entitled to claim in the first place, since soldiers are paid to serve, not to hoard fictional holiday entitlements like frequent flyer points. And who signed off on this fantasy payout? None other than Mahendra Chaudhry, then Interim Finance Minister. The whole deal stank then, and it stinks now.
But here’s the punchline: the Supreme Court has just reminded us all that in Fiji, corruption committed between 2006 and 2014 is not a crime. It’s a constitutional right. Section 157 of the 2013 Constitution ensures that. Immunity! Absolute. Untouchable. A get-out-of-jail-free card written in permanent ink.
So while Bainimarama may have to count his cents in retirement, and yes, his pension loss must sting, he can still sleep soundly knowing no prosecutor will ever darken his doorstep over the back pay scam. The judges have ruled it so. The Constitution demands it. The rule of law, apparently, requires that the law not apply to him.
Let’s be clear: if the 1997 Constitution still governed us, Bainimarama and Chaudhry would be ripe for prosecution. Abuse of Office. Corrupt Practices. Stealing by Public Servant. Pick your poison. There’s no statute of limitations for fraud. They could be hauled to court tomorrow. But alas, Section 157 slammed that courtroom door shut and welded it closed.
And the irony? Bainimarama with the help of Aiyaz Khaiyum (the very architect of the 2013 Constitution), has now been saved by his own handiwork. Imagine that: drafting your own immunity clause, enforcing it at gunpoint, and years later, having the nation’s highest court validate it as perfectly lawful. You could almost admire the foresight, if it weren’t so nakedly corrupt.
Meanwhile, ordinary Fijians have no such protections. Steal a tin of fish from MH, and you’ll be paraded through court before the week is out. But help yourself to $184,000 from the Treasury, and the Constitution itself becomes your lawyer, your judge, and your jury. “Case dismissed - permanently.”
So, let’s raise a glass to the Supreme Court’s ruling. It has ensured that Bainimarama’s pension may be trimmed, his reputation may be in tatters, but his criminal liability is safe, secure, and untouchable. Fiji’s founding fathers never dreamed of such a Constitution. Only Bainimarama could have invented it, and only Bainimarama could have needed it this badly.
As for Mahendra Chaudhry, well, he too can breathe easy. His signature on the back pay cheque will never be Exhibit A in a trial. Immunity covers him like a warm blanket. The taxpayers may gnash their teeth, the Auditor-General may shake his head, but the law - such as it was in Bainimarama’s Fiji - is clear: corruption between 2006 and 2014 is not corruption. It is constitutionally protected innovation.
And so the back pay story, like so many scandals of the Bainimarama years, ends not with justice but with immunity. Not with accountability but with a shrug from the bench. Fiji deserves better. But for now, Frank Bainimarama can keep his back pay.
The Supreme Court of Fiji says so. Sources claim Bainimarama paid back the money.
 |  |
CHAPTER 10—IMMUNITY
Immunity granted under the 1990 Constitution continues
From Fijileaks Archive, 2 March 2015
Interim Finance Minister Chaudhry’s Cover Story: Defending the Indefensible
When Mahendra Chaudhry stood before the press and declared there was “nothing sinister” about Bainimarama’s $205,000 back-pay, he was not acting as a custodian of public finance. He was acting as the dictator’s treasurer. With a few sharp words, he tried to smother debate, telling the nation that critics had no evidence and that the money was legitimately owed.
But what he really did was flip the burden of proof. In any functioning democracy, when a minister signs off on a massive payout to the man holding the guns, the responsibility lies with him to show the public the paperwork: the leave records, the salary calculations, the audit trail. Instead, Chaudhry dared the critics to disprove what his own ministry had quietly engineered.
The claim itself was preposterous. 698 days of leave supposedly rolled over since 1978? Paid out not at the rates of the 1980s or 1990s, but at Bainimarama’s 2006 salary level? And fattened further by service allowances, duty allowances, gratuities, and expenses stacked on top? No civil service rulebook in the world allowed such a bonanza. It was a fiction that grew into a fortune, sanctioned by decree and rubber-stamped by a interim finance minister who should have known better.
Chaudhry’s attempt to shift blame to “previous governments” was an evasion, not an explanation. If leave management had been lax, that called for reform, not a jackpot for the coup leader. If records were missing, that called for scrutiny, not a payout. What the country got instead was silence and stonewalling.
Years later, Fijileaks reproduced the evidence in full, exposing the arithmetic tricks and allowances that turned a questionable claim into a $205,000 windfall. The truth was clear: this was not a debt owed to Bainimarama: it was a dividend for seizing power.
So was Chaudhry “right” to defend and shut down debate? No. He was politically useful to Bainimarama, but he was wrong by every legal and ethical measure. By suppressing scrutiny, he helped entrench a culture where coups carried cash rewards, and where accountability could be shouted down by authority.
Today, with Bainimarama’s pension claim rejected in court, the irony is complete. The same man who once needed only a rifle and an interim finance minister to conjure $205,000 out of thin air has now discovered that the rule of law has no room for manufactured entitlements. And Chaudhry’s old defense reads less like truth and more like the cover story it always was.
But what he really did was flip the burden of proof. In any functioning democracy, when a minister signs off on a massive payout to the man holding the guns, the responsibility lies with him to show the public the paperwork: the leave records, the salary calculations, the audit trail. Instead, Chaudhry dared the critics to disprove what his own ministry had quietly engineered.
The claim itself was preposterous. 698 days of leave supposedly rolled over since 1978? Paid out not at the rates of the 1980s or 1990s, but at Bainimarama’s 2006 salary level? And fattened further by service allowances, duty allowances, gratuities, and expenses stacked on top? No civil service rulebook in the world allowed such a bonanza. It was a fiction that grew into a fortune, sanctioned by decree and rubber-stamped by a interim finance minister who should have known better.
Chaudhry’s attempt to shift blame to “previous governments” was an evasion, not an explanation. If leave management had been lax, that called for reform, not a jackpot for the coup leader. If records were missing, that called for scrutiny, not a payout. What the country got instead was silence and stonewalling.
Years later, Fijileaks reproduced the evidence in full, exposing the arithmetic tricks and allowances that turned a questionable claim into a $205,000 windfall. The truth was clear: this was not a debt owed to Bainimarama: it was a dividend for seizing power.
So was Chaudhry “right” to defend and shut down debate? No. He was politically useful to Bainimarama, but he was wrong by every legal and ethical measure. By suppressing scrutiny, he helped entrench a culture where coups carried cash rewards, and where accountability could be shouted down by authority.
Today, with Bainimarama’s pension claim rejected in court, the irony is complete. The same man who once needed only a rifle and an interim finance minister to conjure $205,000 out of thin air has now discovered that the rule of law has no room for manufactured entitlements. And Chaudhry’s old defense reads less like truth and more like the cover story it always was.
THE MONEY MAN: Chaudhry striding with Bainimarama into Parliament to deliver post 2006 coup BUDGET
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