The phrase “honour bound” goes back to the 1850s. It described someone compelled to honour a promise as part of their personal code of integrity. In many ways it was akin to the old code of chivalry. A gentleman’s word was his bond. Breaking it brought dishonour not only to himself, but also to his family.
To be honour bound meant one was tied to what was morally right, guided not only by the letter of the law but by an inner compass of fairness, truth, respect and decency.
My late father, Andrew Deoki, who was the late Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara’s Attorney-General and Fiji’s first Director of Public Prosecutions, lived by those principles. He believed a handshake sealed a deal, because at the heart of any agreement was not paper or ink, but honour.
Sadly, in the 21st century, that concept has been largely diminished and disregarded and replaced by legal loopholes, corporate spin and self-interest.
That is precisely why the FNPF 2012 pension saga remains a national wound.
A broken bond with pensioners
In 2012, under the Bainimarama–Sayed-Khaiyum administration, a decision was made that stripped thousands of citizens of a significant portion of their hard-earned pension savings. These were not abstract numbers in a ledger. They involved people’s lives, their futures, their dignity in retirement.
The tragedy I see is not only the financial loss of the retirees, but the betrayal of trust.
The Fund exists because of the very workers who contribute to it. Its first duty is to protect and honour those contributions. Instead, with the sanction of the government of the day, it violated its own members’ faith.
That’s not just a breach of legal contracts. It’s a breach of honour.
The question that will not go away
Thirteen years on, one question continues to loom:
Is the FNPF honour bound to restore what was taken from these pensioners?
If the answer is yes, as it must be, then the follow-up question is just as pressing:
How quickly should this debt of honour be repaid?
Straight away one would imagine. And simply because the intervening years have seen quite a few of these hardworking Fijians pass away without fully enjoying the fruits of their pensions.
For the survivors, time has a special significance. Many are in the final stretch of their twilight years. Justice delayed is justice denied. And in this case, it’s being denied to elders, the very people who helped build this country with their labour and sacrifice.
The cost to Fiji’s reputation
There’s also a bigger picture the current FNPF Board and the Fiji Government cannot afford to ignore. Around the world, investors are watching Fiji. When they see that a major institution like the FNPF can act dishonourably towards its own members, there a confidence issue. It raises questions about Fiji as an investment centre.
Trust is the foundation of investment. Without it, capital will go elsewhere. The reputational cost of this still unresolved scandal is far greater than any short-term financial gain achieved by slashing legal pension entitlements.
Time to restore honour
If my father had been Attorney General in 2012, I know this abuse would never have seen the light of day. Men of his generation believed that a promise was sacred. They believed in honour.
It’s time the FNPF Board showed a similar commitment. This isn’t just about money. It’s about integrity. It’s about the moral duty to do right by a nation’s elders. In my view, letting this injustice fester raises the question of whether the Fund is prepared to give them rightful honour and justice.
To address this decisively and compassionately would not only restore dignity to the remaining pensioners but also repair the credibility of the very institution that undertook to safeguard their future.
The choice lies with those in control today.
The question remains: Will the FNPF be honour bound and rescue its reputation?
