Fiji Indian Rights Movement

From Slaves to “Coolies” to Girmityas… The Same Chains, Just Renamed…

After the British Empire abolished slavery in 1833, they did not suddenly become humane. They became strategic.

Slavery was replaced with indentured labour.
A system designed to look legal while delivering the same control.

Our ancestors were no longer called slaves.
They were called “coolies.”

But the conditions did not change in any meaningful way.

Men and women from India, many poor and unable to read or write, were recruited with promises of opportunity. They were told they were going somewhere nearby, somewhere better.

Instead, they were shipped across oceans to places like Fiji, the Caribbean, and Africa. Many travelled on vessels that had previously been used in the slave trade.

They did not sign contracts in the way we understand today. Most could not read the documents placed in front of them.

They gave a thumbprint.
A symbol of trust that became a tool of control.

The word “agreement” became “girmit” in their language. From that, a new identity was formed.

Girmityas.

People bound to contracts they did not understand. Forced to work under harsh conditions. Separated from their land, their families, and their culture.

This was not freedom.

It was slavery rewritten in legal language.

The labels changed.
Slave. Coolie. Girmitya.

But the reality remained.
Exploitation. Displacement. Survival.

And still, they endured.

From that suffering came strength, culture, and identity that continues to live on today through generations of Indo Fijians and descendants around the world.

This history matters.

Because systems do not always disappear.
Sometimes they simply rename themselves.

Coolies: How British Reinvented Slavery Copyright: BBC Four Corners DocumentaryBBC

Native land tenure system

The problem has been that in history and even now, there is not a clear contract between tenants and landlords, which states what will happen to the residential property when the lease is not renewed.

Even Housing Authority is keeping people in the dark along with FCCC and the Consumer Council. This is a consumer rights issue. What is the point of 100 to 200K goodwill when the chances of land renewal would be less than 5 percent. In reality, landowners should either compensate for the development by paying the property price upon valuation or return the goodwill with interest. You get the bond returned when you leave a rental property and the goodwill is just another form of bond. We need better policies developed so that consumer rights are protected.

If FCCC steps in, then the government can work on development of movable houses, if your land is not renewed then you can move the house to another site.

This can be possible if you have an organisation that fights for rights of tenants, such as the Fiji Tennants Association. This needs to be created with the help of the government.

Dr Rohitash Chandra

Gemini is doing well!

Conversation with Gemini
You said
Make a shot movie screenplay about an Indian and iTaueki in Fiji fighting for land renewal

Gemini said
TITLE: THE RED DIRT TICKET

CHARACTERS:

RAJESH (60s): A third-generation Indo-Fijian cane farmer. Hands calloused, eyes weary but sharp.

SULIASI (60s): An iTaukei (Indigenous Fijian) clan leader and landowner. Tall, imposing, wearing a faded Bula shirt.

SETTING:
A sprawling sugarcane field in Ba, Fiji. The sun is a relentless gold. In the distance, the volcanic mountains loom.

[SCENE START]

EXT. SUGARCANE FIELD - DAY

The sound of a rhythmic clack-clack-clack. RAJESH is sharpening a machete (cane knife) under the shade of a lone mango tree.

A dusty white pickup truck pulls up. SULIASI climbs out. He carries a rolled-up architectural map. He walks toward Rajesh, his boots crunching on the dry leaves.

RAJESH
(Without looking up)
The lease expired at midnight, Suli. You’re twelve hours late to kick me off.

SULIASI
(Stopping a few feet away)
I didn’t come to kick you off, Rajesh. I came to look at the soil. It’s tired.

RAJESH
It’s tired because it’s been feeding both our families for fifty years. My grandfather cleared these rocks when there was nothing here but snakes.

SULIASI
And my ancestors’ bones are buried in the hill behind your kitchen. The Land Trust Board says no more sugar. They want "Development."

Suliasi unrolls the map on the hood of the truck. It shows a sprawling tourist resort—villas, a golf course, a swimming pool.

SULIASI (CONT'D)
They offer the mataqali (landowning group) more money in one year than you pay in ten. My nephews in Suva, they don't want to farm. They want iPhones. They want the resort.

Rajesh finally looks up. He stabs the machete into the soft red earth.

RAJESH
A resort? On this slope? One hurricane, Suli, and your "villas" will slide into the Rewa River. This land only knows how to hold roots, not concrete.

SULIASI
(Sighs)
I told them that. But they say I am "old-fashioned." They say you are "an occupant," not a brother.

RAJESH
(Walking over)
Is that what you think? After thirty years of sharing kava? When my son was sick, who drove us to the hospital in the middle of the flood?

SULIASI
(Firmly)
I am the steward of this land, Rajesh. If I sign this, the lease is gone. You go to town, live in a concrete box. I stay here, and I watch strangers swim where we used to hunt pigs.

RAJESH
Then don't sign.

SULIASI
The clan is hungry. They see the money. I need a reason to tell them "No" that isn't just "Rajesh is my friend."

Rajesh looks at his field. The cane is tall, silver tassels dancing in the wind. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, weathered ledger.

RAJESH
Look at the yields for the last three years. I’ve been rotating with dalo and cassava. I’ve been healing the dirt. If we switch to organic ginger and export-grade turmeric, we can triple the profit of the sugar.

He points to a blank section of the ledger.

RAJESH (CONT'D)
But I can’t do it alone. I’m sixty-five. I need young men to sweat. Your nephews. Give them a stake in the crop. Not a "job" cleaning toilets at a resort, but a share of the soil.

Suliasi looks at the ledger, then at the map of the resort. He looks at Rajesh’s hands—stained dark by the earth.

SULIASI
A joint venture? The Board will hate it. It’s never been done this way.

RAJESH
Then it’s time. You provide the bloodline, I provide the sweat. We both keep the land.

Suliasi looks toward the mountains. A long silence passes. He picks up the architectural map and slowly begins to rip it down the middle.

SULIASI
My nephews are lazy, Rajesh. You will have to be hard on them.

RAJESH
(A small smile)
I’ve been surviving Fiji’s sun for sixty years, Suli. I’m harder than a green coconut.

SULIASI
(Nodding)
Come. The kava is waiting at my house. We have to write a new lease. One that doesn't have an expiry date.

Suliasi tosses the torn map into the back of his truck. Rajesh pulls his machete from the ground and wipes the red dirt onto his trousers.

They walk toward the truck together—one descendant of the soil, one guardian of the title, both men of the land.

[SCENE END]

Gemini is AI and can make mistakes.

We cannot entertain land evictions without reparations anymore

Statement by the Leader of the Opposition – Hon. Inia Seruiratu

I am deeply concerned by reports brought to my Office that more than 40 families in the Labasa and Seaqaqa areas are facing the non-renewal of their land leases by the iTaukei Land Trust Board (TLTB). The majority of those affected are hardworking farmers who have, for years, contributed meaningfully to the economic life of Vanua Levu.

These tenants are not idle occupants of land, they are the very individuals who cultivate it, who ensure productivity, who sustain supply chains and who support livelihoods not only for their own families but for the wider community. Their continued presence on the land is integral to food security, rural stability and economic development in the North.

It is therefore troubling that so many of these tenants now face uncertainty and possible displacement. Of equal concern are reports that many are being asked to pay premiums ranging from $30,000 to $50,000 as a condition for lease renewal. For ordinary farming families, such sums are simply beyond reach and risk effectively excluding them from continued access to the land they have long developed and depended upon.

I am particularly disappointed that the Government has not taken proactive steps to address this issue. There appears to be a clear lack of coordination between the Government and TLTB, as well as insufficient engagement with landowners to ensure that lease renewals are managed in a manner that is fair, transparent and beneficial to all parties.

Landowners must, of course, receive a fair return from their land. However, this must be balanced against the broader national interest of keeping productive land in use and supporting those who have demonstrated commitment to its development. Allowing leases to lapse without viable renewal pathways, or imposing prohibitive financial demands, undermines both economic stability and social cohesion.

I call on the Government to urgently intervene and work collaboratively with TLTB and landowners to find practical, equitable solutions. This includes reviewing the imposition of excessive premiums, improving coordination mechanisms, and ensuring that genuine, longstanding tenants are given a fair opportunity to continue their farming activities. The future of Vanua Levu’s agricultural sector depends on decisions made today. We cannot afford policies or practices that drive farmers off the land and leave productive areas idle.

My Office will continue to monitor this situation closely and advocate for the affected families.

Sad history of Indians in Fiji

A Suva doctor told the Fiji Truth and Reconciliation Commission (FTRC) he was beaten with gun butts and forced to run from the University of the South Pacific to the Chinese Embassy area after soldiers interrupted a student gathering in 1987.

Dr Rajeshwar Maharaj testified at the Suva Civic Centre today, recounting how soldiers arrived in a truck and attacked members of the University of the South Pacific (USP) Indian Student Association without warning.

“All of a sudden, a group of soldiers, they came in a big truck, and they just started beating us with their gun butts, and just started making us run on the road,” Dr Maharaj said.

From the University of South Pacific, they made us run right through there, to the place where the Chinese Embassy is, just near that place.”

Dr Maharaj, who now runs a medical practice at Laucala Beach, was a first-year medical student when the May 1987 coup happened.

He said students had gathered to discuss the difficult situation following the coup when soldiers received word of their meeting and responded with violence.

“They were beating us up with their gun butts. And after that, they didn’t say much, and all they said was, do not say anything,” Dr Maharaj said.

He also witnessed violence at Albert Park in Suva after a gathering at Sukuna Park, where about 20 men attacked a small group of elderly Indo-Fijians, women and youth.

“They just started dashing old people, and a lot of women, and they just started punching, and these people were just falling to the ground,” he said.

An army truck arrived just in time to prevent further violence.

Dr Maharaj said the political upheavals had set Fiji back many years and created deep social problems including domestic violence and drug abuse.

He recommended the commission focus on building relationships between iTaukei and Indo-Fijians and promoting equal opportunities for all qualified citizens.

Credit: Fiji Sun

Good to have a mature discussion and migration is not only a product of governance but emerges from a wide range of factors. You can't just blame the government for migration as none of governments in Fiji history have ever spoken about rights of Fiji Indians or given any funding entirely for them.