IF you were there at the Homecoming concert 2024, then you’d know what I’m talking about when I say it was surreal and an awakening moment.
And if you were not there then you are probably harbouring some regret for not attending Fiji’s first ever biggest musical concert since Lucky Dube and UB40.
It was ‘two steps up’ – the only concert that jam packed the King Charles Park for two days with people from all walks of life, some from far and beyond the Pacific region.
I’m sure you’re inundated with videos showing George (Fiji) Veikoso and Maoli’s live performances on social media. But cameras can only say so much. You had to be there to see it for yourself.
And when I’m asked the question “how was the concert?”
I can’t tell you enough about the stage and lights! and about George (Poji) Fiji’s entrance with his song Indigenous Life.
The real question is “would I do it all over again? Would I spend that much money again, along with the headache of looking for accommodation and food far from home – “of course! why not!
It was deafening, in a good way, and the roar shook Nadi until late into the night.
But it was an awakening moment for me and my two favourite companions; daughter Milika and sister-in-law Miah who were also born and bred in Raiwaqa – Poji’s ‘yasayasa’.
For memories sake, we needed to be there rather than merely listening to George Fiji Veikoso, and Maoli songs on the bluetooth speaker at home.
Watching Poji live is something that’s always been on the bucket list.
Milika has never had the chance to see Nadi town too, so this became the perfect opportunity to witness one of the greatest Fijian musicians of this generation to perform live this way, a first-time for Fiji.
For me personally, being born and bred in Raiwaqa (R), I’ve heard stories about Poji in the hood and his struggles.
Poji once slept at the lovo shed by the creek alone – along Milverton Rd to get by. Like many other youths in the Raiwaqa Housing Estate during the 70s and 80s, dollars and cents were very rare for families.
But Poji had a talent – he could sing. As Ioane Burese explained in his article in The Fiji Times (Backtracks) on September 19 titled, George Fiji Veikoso – an embodiment of Fiji, Poji was part of the legendary local reggae band Rootstara.
Running on faith
Let me start from the beginning.
I had no plans set, when I learned about the Homecoming Concert in Fiji. I imagined they would come and play in Suva but Nadi would host.
While the three of us were geared to attend, we all shared the same dilemma “all empty as a pocket like Paul Simon’s song” so we sprung into action to fund raise for our ticket money – which was about $110 per person.
But bad luck, coupled with logistical nightmares set us back. We almost missed the whole adventure if it wasn’t for a miracle.
When we finally had the cash, tickets were ‘sold out’ online. It was a unanimous decision that we needed to travel to Nadi by faith, in the hopes there would be tickets available at the gate on opening day. It was a big risk and failure would have us return – having spent about $120 for the bus fare there and back.
Mission Nadi
But let me tell you first about the fund raising drive (kati toa). We began four weeks prior to concert day.
However, everybody else was fund raising, whether it be a walkathon, buying kava barrel tickets. We were selling our kati cards as fast as we were receiving them from others.
Amid this, whatever money collected was used to open a little canteen from home to generate more money for the travel. Also, the girls planned to work for a week at the Hibiscus Festivals in Suva.
Our neighbourhood UNEM Club ran a food stall and employed Milika and Miah as part of the team. The girls vowed to save all their wages toward the course. My only job was to pay for the girl’s bus fares and lunch for a week.
“I have no problems with eating sandwiches the whole week,” Miah said. Milika agreed and said “Dad you relax and don’t worry we’ll have enough when we reach Nadi,” she quipped.
But somehow, amid the fun and festivities – at the mother of festivals – the delicious smell of sizzling barbecued chops and sausages proved too strong.
The girls couldn’t say ‘no’ to their hungry little brothers, nephews and sisters, nieces screaming for candy floss and chow. No money got saved but at least there was lots of enthusiasm.
The following week, we realised half of the canteen stuff had been used because someone put the canteen food stuff together in the household food pantry.
My school kids had a jolly good time on the noodles, tuna and sachets of tang that we were supposed to sell.
Amid this, the kati card sales were coming in very slow, so we had to postpone our draw date to September 13, a day before the concert.
When it rains it surely pours!
The lesson we learnt is, whenever you set a plan it can’t work without prayers, sacrifice and hard work.
Despite these setbacks, we were now at a stage of eating only mixed-bean from the ‘bean cart man’ for lunch – just to see Poji.
So be it!
Hope was not lost. Somewhere lady luck was lurking in the dark. We just needed a little miracle to buy food for the family that would be hosting us in Nadi — my karua Suliano and wife Apolonia.
Then two days before the concert, a miracle walked through my front door in the form of my tavale and family from Australia, who travelled over for vacation. Upon hearing our great plan for adventure, he offered to pay for our tickets along with some pocket money. Hip hip Hooray! We were back on track. Poji here we come!
The moment of truth
Milika dropped the bad news that online concert tickets were all sold out. But the poster did say tickets would be sold at the gate.
By dawn three weary minds woke on September 14, fighting the cold Suva morning before hopping on a bus for a 3-hour journey to Nadi. There were familiar faces on board who were also going down to watch the concert.
“What time should we be there at the gate, it starts at 3pm,’ Milika asked.
“2pm, we’re not going to miss this – have little faith,” Miah replied.
At this point we weren’t sure anymore if there would be tickets available – only the fact that three music lovers from ‘R’ were pinning their hopes on fate.
All throughout the bus ride the question came popping up in my head until we finally reached Nadi.
The Jet Set town was hot and buzzing with hundreds of marching feet cramming every corner of every street.
I found supermarkets, the Hot Bread Kitchen, pharmacy, clothing shops, municipal market and bus station all close to each other.
We bought food stuff and kava for our lodging requirement at karua Suli’s home in Nawaka. I was tired, but the girls didn’t waste time and shot-off to King Charles Park at about 12pm to buy tickets.
They returned to say the ticket guy wasn’t there!. The booth was closed.
So began the long mental wait at Nawaka from 12pm to 2pm. It definitely added fuel to the anxiety burning hotter under the Nadi sun.
By 2pm, we were all dressed and at the location waiting at the ticket booth along with others searching to buy tickets as well.
Crowds of people showed up. I waited on the side chatting with a few friends who were all hyped in high spirits.
I, on the other hand, had mixed feelings inside me. “H lets go in together,” they asked.
I replied “I’ll see you in there, take the lead”
Mai vei we were waiting for the bloody ticket booth to open. and we didn’t know if it would.
I saw everyone walking toward the main entrance area and the line grew longer.
But I tell you nothing felt so good when Milika returned holding three tickets in her hands, believe it or not we were one of the first to buy tickets at the gate — all the way from Raiwaqa to Nadi.
I could go on about the amazing food stalls that sold lovo food to chicken, burgers and fries, or the electrifying atmosphere and kava I had. But that’s a story for another day.
And guess who was the master of the ceremony (MC)? Tofiga Fepulea’i, from the Laughing Samoans.
All in all it was “mate nei lavo” (worth the money) and Tofiga did say there would be a Homecoming Concert 2025 and you shouldn’t miss that one. We definitely won’t miss it. This time we’re learning from the past to keep ahead in the future.
