Rumors are swirling in Fiji that the dynamic duo of political drama—Frank Bainimarama and Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum—are plotting their grand return by registering a new political party to contest the 2026 elections. If true, this would be the most ambitious comeback since coconut wireless last reported that Ratu Sukuna was considering a political return. But let’s examine this latest development with the seriousness it deserves—none at all.
First, we must consider the tiny legal hiccup that Bainimarama and Khaiyum seem to have overlooked: they are both, in varying degrees, legally and politically incapacitated. Bainimarama, after his recent legal woes, is about as eligible to run for office as a fish is to climb a coconut tree. Then there’s Khaiyum, the former Attorney-General, who spent his time in government rewriting laws to ensure he and Bainimarama would never leave office. Ironically, those same laws now stand as their biggest roadblock to making a return. If poetic justice were a political party, it would already be in government.
According to the Political Parties (Registration, Conduct, Funding, and Disclosures) Act, those convicted of crimes and had been imprisoned for at least 6 months are ineligible to run for party office for at least five years. The Electoral act [S23(4)(g)] disqualifies an election candidate if he or she had been convicted of an offence carrying a maximum sentence of at least 2 years for at least 8 years after conviction.
Bainimarama, fresh from his legal battles, and Khaiyum, reportedly avoiding the long arm of the law like a coconut falling from a tree, may find these particular clauses rather inconvenient. One can almost imagine them sitting in a secret meeting, furiously searching for legal loopholes, only to realize they had closed them all themselves back when they were in charge. Tragic, really.
But let’s assume, for a moment, that a miracle occurs—perhaps a sudden attack of selective amnesia in the judiciary or an unexpected legislative loophole allows them to register their party. The question remains: who would actually vote for them? The people of Fiji, having spent over a decade under their governance, might find it hard to miss a political style that combined iron-fist rule with occasional flourishes of comedic tyranny.
And then there’s the iTaukei perception of Khaiyum.
No discussion about their return would be complete without addressing the elephant—or rather, the lawyer—in the room. Throughout his tenure, Khaiyum was viewed by many iTaukei as the architect of policies that systematically dismantled traditional institutions, reduced indigenous influence, and centralized power in a manner that left many suspicious of his true intentions.
Whether through land bills, constitutional changes, or the infamous “We know what’s best for you” approach to governance, Khaiyum has spent years cultivating an image among iTaukei communities that would make a wild boar more electable in certain rural villages. It remains to be seen how he intends to win them over this time—perhaps a rebranding campaign featuring him performing a meke at the Hibiscus Festival?
For many in the iTaukei community, Khaiyum remains a controversial figure, widely seen as the mastermind behind policies perceived as eroding traditional structures and indigenous influence. While Bainimarama fronted the show, Khaiyum was often viewed as the ventriloquist pulling the strings. His role in constitutional changes, land policies, and institutional restructuring left many feeling alienated. If this duo hopes to charm the iTaukei electorate again, they might need more than a well-rehearsed campaign—they’ll need divine intervention.
Perhaps Khaiyum could reinvent himself as a champion of indigenous rights, complete with ceremonial garb and an apologetic smile. That, or he could embrace his notoriety and run on a platform of “You Hated Me Before, But Give Me Another Chance.” Stranger things have happened in politics.
Then there’s the small matter of their sudden departure, which led to the deregistration of FijiFirst. Supporters of the once-dominant party now find themselves politically homeless, abandoned faster than a sinking ship’s last lifeboat. Their loyalty, once unwavering, has morphed into outrage. After years of defending Bainimarama and Khaiyum against all critics, these supporters now face the bitter realization that their political idols may have left them high and dry.
The question is: will these disillusioned followers embrace the duo’s new venture, or will they turn to new leadership, bitterly muttering about misplaced trust? If Bainimarama and Khaiyum expect an easy return, they may find that Fijians have long memories and little patience for betrayal.
Ultimately, the real question isn’t whether Bainimarama and Khaiyum will succeed in registering their party. The real question is whether the people of Fiji are willing to relive a political era that left democracy wheezing, and human rights in an induced coma. If they do make a return, it will be less of a political comeback and more of an unintentional stand-up comedy tour. One thing is for certain: whatever happens, the 2026 elections will not be boring.
The 2026 elections promise to be a showdown of epic proportions. Will Fiji welcome back its former rulers, or will it finally turn the page on this political saga? Either way, grab your popcorn—it’s going to be a show worth watching.
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