Justice or Just Us? A Take on Fiji’s Two-Tier Drug Laws

Ah, Fiji! The land of pristine beaches, coconut trees swaying in the breeze, and a judicial system so hilariously inconsistent that it could be mistaken for a poorly written soap opera. Nowhere is this inconsistency more glaring than in the way drug-related cases are handled. If you ever need proof that Lady Justice isn’t just blindfolded but also half-asleep in Fiji, look no further than the great disparity in sentencing between poor drug users and, say, a certain well-connected businessman with a suspiciously light bail condition.

Let’s start with the humble, struggling citizen, shall we? Picture this: A desperate individual, possibly unemployed or working a low-wage job, turns to using or selling a small amount of drugs—because let’s be honest, life’s tough, and sometimes a quick escape seems like the only option. Caught by police? Straight to remand they go! No questions asked. No fancy lawyers. No cushy bail arrangements. Just a one-way ticket to an overcrowded remand center where they’ll await trial longer than it takes for the government to fix a pothole. And when they’re finally sentenced? Five to ten years behind bars—because obviously, possessing a small amount of drugs is a crime so heinous it demands a punishment harsher than corruption or fraud.

Now, enter the elite. Say, a businessman with the right connections and a last name that gets recognized in the corridors of power. Perhaps he’s caught with a substantial amount of drugs—far more than our poor user ever dreamed of possessing. But does he get remanded? Oh no, that’s reserved for the unfortunate souls without political or financial capital. Instead, he waltzes into court, hands in pockets, and walks out with a $500 bail condition—an amount so laughably low that it wouldn’t even cover a weekend getaway at one of Fiji’s fancy resorts.

It’s almost like the law in Fiji operates on a sliding scale. If you’re poor and powerless, the hammer of justice comes down with full force, obliterating any chance of fairness. If you’re rich and well-connected, the hammer turns into a feather duster—brushing off your crimes with a mild scolding and a ‘try not to do it again’ warning. Meanwhile, the public is expected to believe that justice is being served, as if we all woke up with collective amnesia and forgot how things have always worked.

What’s even more comical is the moral grandstanding from those in power. Politicians and law enforcement officials love to lecture the nation about the dangers of drugs, promising harsh penalties and stricter enforcement. But when a big fish is caught? Suddenly, it’s a case of ‘we must let the legal process take its course.’ A legal process that, funnily enough, seems to speed up for the privileged while dragging its feet for everyone else.

One might think that the law should be a great equalizer, treating all citizens fairly regardless of wealth or status. But in Fiji, it seems the law is more like an old weighing scale, tipping heavily in favor of those who can afford to grease its rusted hinges. So what’s the takeaway from all this? Simple—if you’re going to get caught with drugs in Fiji, make sure you have the right last name, the right connections, and at least $500 lying around. Otherwise, enjoy your stay in remand!