LETTERS TO THE EDITOR | Tuesday, October 27, 2026

AMONG us live the descendants of Solomon Islander and New Hebridean people, brought to our shores as blackbirded labourers. They speak fluent iTaukei, hold their weddings and funerals in the Fijian way, and worship the same God. Many are barely distinguishable from their iTaukei neighbours. Yet they live like a shadow, carrying society’s burdens without recognition. The Constitution promises equality. In real life, their communities are labelled “settlements”, not villages. The cost is real: trouble using FNPF housing eligibility, forms where they must tick “others”, a disadvantage in scholarships, and less access to government aid and funding. If the people of Serua could honour Ben Ryan with a chiefly title after Olympic gold, why is it so hard to recognise the place where these descendants live as a village? Mr Ryan took his title abroad. This community would receive recognition with pride and keep it here; on the land they call home. Equality cannot stay a word on paper. Recognise their villages.

AS University of Fiji Vice-Chancellor Professor Shaista Shameem recently stressed, a nation’s supreme law must reflect universal human rights, pluralism, and genuine inclusivity rather than narrowing the cultural and religious space of its diverse communities. International precedents from dynamic multi-ethnic nations show that sustainable governance relies on embracing minorities and fostering mutual respect. Yet I believe the current government bill introduces contentious religious clauses, such as declaring Christianity and family values as founding state values while dropping secular protections, alongside backward colonial era remnants like permitting corporal punishment for children. These divisive additions deeply alienate Indo-Fijians, minority faiths, and human rights advocates alike. A constitution intended to bind a plural society must elevate all citizens equally, ensuring that no single community ever feels marginalised or steamrolled by heavy-handed, partisan, state-sponsored moral engineering.

REGULAR readers and writers who follow this column may have noticed by now that a familiar voice has gone quiet. For years, my Nana, the late Dewan Chand (from Namadi Heights) was a regular writer to the editor’s column. I am writing this piece as a tribute to his life and also to thank everyone for their support towards Nana’s life. I started writing to the editor’s column a little over a few years ago and I got this inspiration from him. Although I am not a regular writer, I try to write when my sentiments resonates strongly with something that affects me. But for Nana, he was prolific. He was a voracious man. And rightly so, he was. Nana’s ability to articulate himself, even at the age of 82, was astounding. He always had a way of making a lasting impression. He made sure that his presence was felt wherever he went. His voice carried conviction. He was a great intellectual. What a man! What a legend! I have spent a great amount of time seeing him writing and talking. Within one and a half weeks, he would fill a 200-page book (Oxford exercise book, red one) just writing pages and pages about things he watched on YouTube, listened to on the radio and extrapolate his thoughts from newspaper clippings. He would then share it with me. I still have these. But also, Nana was a very disruptive man. He was never one to simply follow the rules for the sake of following them. He would push beyond the boundaries and challenge the status quo. Sit with him in a meeting room full of intellectuals, and you’ll see what I mean. Those who have worked with Nana would be able to recall the reference. He was unconventional, outspoken and unapologetic. Beyond Nana’s formidable personality, he was a man with profound humility and generosity. He did not need an audience to do good, nor did he need his kindness acknowledged. Much of what he gave and did for others was known only to those whose lives he touched. Behind the outspoken intellectual, the uncompromising debater and the man who never shied away from challenging convention was someone with a deeply compassionate heart. His legacy, therefore, cannot be measured solely by the positions he held, the words he wrote or the arguments he made, but also by the lives he quietly touched along the way. Nana’s professional life was marked by a distinguished career in education, followed by his servitude in the trade union movement and national politics. He served as the principal of Ba Provincial Secondary School 1976 to 1987, before moving to Drasa Secondary School in 1989. He then served as a principal of Bhawani Dayal Arya College from 1990 to 1999. His career in education spanned three decades! He was the first youngest principal in 1976. Nana’s commitment to advocating for others extended beyond the classroom. He served as the Publicity and Education Officer of the Fiji Trades Union Congress (FTUC), Chairman of the Nadi Fiji Teachers Union and Chairman of the Lautoka FTU. Then as a National Vice President of the Fiji Teachers Union and held the presidency of the Fiji Principals Association for three terms. His contribution to educational leadership extended internationally through his membership of the Commonwealth Council for Educational Administration. In 2006, Nana entered national politics when he was elected to the Parliament as a Fiji Labour Party representative. His parliamentary career was unfortunately cut short by the military coup of December 2006 and the subsequent dissolution of Parliament. From leading educational institutions to representing workers and entering the national political arena, his career reflected a longstanding commitment to public service and the belief that leadership carried a responsibility to serve others. At this point, I also want to thank Nana’s fellow companions from the 2012 Pensioners Committee — Daniel Fatiaki, Professor Vijay Naidu, Professor Wadan Narsey, Ronnie Chang, Ross McDonald, Mathew Wilson, Esther Williams, Elizabeth Fong, Brother Paul and Mr Khan. Thank you for sharing your companionship with Nana and for extending your friendship, love and respect to him. Also sending immense love to aunts Praveena, Praveeta, Seema and Prameeta. And not forgetting Irene Mausi and my little cuzzy Chris. Much love to you guys. Nana also lost his only son uncle Vinay two years ago after grandma’s passing away 10 years earlier. Regular readers will continue to see new names in this column, new perspectives and new arguments. That’s the whole point of public discourse. But for those of us who knew Nana, there will always be something deeply personal in the absence of his name. A familiar name that has gone quiet. A voice that once found its way into these pages fell silent. Yet the words he leaves behind, the lessons he imparted and the people he inspired will continue to speak. Nana was a legend in his own right. His passing marks the end of an era, but his legacy will live on through the generations he inspired, including the grandson who first found the courage to write because of him. May his soul rest in eternal peace.