EVIDENCE?: To recall Tabuya, Where is the Evidence, Any Police Report?
Take, for instance, the spectacle of a once-enthusiastic campaigner for Sitiveni Rabuka - the man who carried the coup-maker’s banner into a new political age, swearing that this time, redemption had replaced rebellion. Today, that same individual, Rajesh Singh, recounts, in painful detail, how a knife was pressed to his head and how his father’s livelihood was destroyed in the chaos Rabuka unleashed in 1987.
It’s hard not to pause at the irony.
The very movement that once brought such personal harm was later championed in the name of political renewal. The trauma became a footnote in the march toward power, resurrected only when the national mood shifted and truth became fashionable again.
To be clear, no one begrudges a victim their pain - that story deserves to be told, and it should be heard. But when a person plays both roles - the cheerleader of the legacy and the witness to its wounds - the line between conviction and convenience becomes very thin indeed.
Fiji’s politics is full of these contradictions: men and women who denounced coups until they could benefit from them, who swore by principle until power came calling. The tragedy is not only personal; it’s national. Every time we excuse political reinvention as “growth” or “forgiveness,” we blur the moral ledger a little more.
When the same faces who once endorsed the coup-maker now weep over the coup’s victims, Fiji is forced to watch history eat its own tail. It’s not hypocrisy that wounds the nation most. Its a refusal to admit it.
“Oh, the irony: champion of the cause until the cause turned inconvenient”
So here we were again, witnessing the grand spectacle: the very individual who once stirred the ranks, raised the banner, pumped up the optimism for Sitiveni Rabuka, and pushed the narrative of change, now poised at the lectern of the Fiji Truth and Reconciliation Commission, his voice cracking, his memory raw, recounting how they put a knife to his head, and robbed him of his cash that was meant for his parents.
And of course, the power of testifying before a truth commission always carries the promise of redemption, reconnection, moral high ground, and less interestingly, it also offers spotlight.
The final irony
Rajesh Singh advocated for Sitiveni Rabuka in the last election. He organised, he rallied, his voiced trust in his project. Now he tell us he was robbed, threatened, his father dispossessed, his Indo-Fijian community humiliated.
The knife at his head becomes a metaphor not just for his personal trauma, but for the broader sharp-turn of allegiances, politics, and history.
Bravo for Singh's survival. Applause for his bravery in front of the commission. But let’s not forget: the very man he once propelled is the man whose legacy he now has to reckon with.
And in that reckoning, we all learn something: that aligning with power always carries a cost. And when circumstances change, the narrative flips.
And one moves to the next political dinning table, enough of the full "political chow".
New Political Diner: Rajesh Singh Sampling SODELPA's Political Delicacy
Rajesh Singh, who served as Minister for Youth and Sports in the Soqosoqo Duavata ni Lewenivanua (SDL) Government, testified before the Fiji Truth and Reconciliation Commission (FTRC) at the Suva Civic Centre yesterday.
The 1987 coups, led by then Lieutenant Colonel Sitiveni Rabuka, overthrew Fiji's first Indo-Fijian-led coalition government and triggered mass migration and economic hardship for many families.
Mr Singh described how six men held a knife to his head and stole money meant for his family after the coup left them struggling to survive.
“I was walking home from work and there were six people who brought a knife and they put it on my head,” Mr Singh said.
“I had money there for mom and dad. And they took it.”
He said his father, a former minister and timber businessman, was escorted from Namosi by landowners when the coup happened and lost everything when the border was shut.
“He lost everything. But the bottom line, his life was more important than material things in life,” Mr Singh said.
The family of nine struggled without income for months. Mr Singh recalled having to sell his watch to buy food for his niece.
“We can go without food. But she couldn't," he said, breaking down while giving his testimony.
Mr Singh also witnessed violence, where he saw a woman punched and her six-month-old baby taken and placed in a rubbish bin.
"It still disturbs me," he said.
He said indigenous Fijians were swearing at the Indian community and threatening them.
“They were saying, ‘go back to India, ‘we’re going to kill you,’ ‘we’re going to take everything of yours,” Mr Singh recalled.
He encouraged other survivors to come forward and share their stories with the commission.
“Please come out and talk to the commission. This will really help people,” Mr Singh said. Source: The Fiji Sun, 22 October 2025