Last week, we examined the unfortunate Blue Water Boxing event at Lawaqa Park on August 31, 2024, where the negative aspects of boxing were prominently displayed. Some readers have asked for further details on various issues addressed briefly in that article, while others requested it be shared on Facebook. I will consider both requests in due course, but I want to clarify the reasons for my approach.
When writing such columns, maintaining factual accuracy and keeping the article concise are essential. This requires significant effort to gather information from multiple sources, along with ensuring that no legal issues arise during the process. In the past, this was a considerable concern, even though the current environment allows for greater leniency. Additionally, columns must be well-structured, easy to read, fact-backed, engaging, and thought-provoking, without being overly lengthy or tedious. This framework shapes effective columns and contributes positively to the discourse at hand.
Returning to the recent events at Lawaqa, the program unraveled into chaos for various reasons. This scenario is not new and reflects the darker side of boxing we have seen in previous instances. I distinctly recall a charged match between Jo “Hitman” Ravudi and Tongan “Torpedo” Sione Talia’uli in 1992, which escalated into a riot at its conclusion. Soon after, there was a bout featuring Samoan Asomua Naea against up-and-coming Kadavu fighter, Mosese Sorovi. Asomua was the younger brother of Teuane Naea, who had a reputation for dominating several Fijian boxers.
That night at the National Gymnasium, the crowd was eager for a major win for Sorovi amidst an ongoing competition between Fiji and Samoa. In the 1970s and 1980s, Samoan heavyweight Fossie Schmidt had once made his mark in Fiji’s boxing scene, leading to a belief in the importance of heavyweight matchups by local promoter Abdul Khan, who had been inactive for some time.
Mosese Sorovi came from a famous boxing family from Kadavu, including Jo Nitiva and Matereti Valu, who gained recognition in Australia. The excitement was palpable as fans anticipated the night’s action. I was part of that atmosphere alongside my father and promoter Sashi Kumar, seated with Kamal Shah’s group close to the ring. Shah’s Boxing Promotions had become a leading force in the boxing circuit, and Semi Koroi was set to announce the event.
However, when it became clear that Semi would be late, Bob Nair, President of the Fiji Boxing Council, directed me to start the program. Despite my apprehension, I took the mic and began to engage the audience, rallying support with chants of “Fiji vs Samoa.” The crowd responded enthusiastically, heightening the atmosphere as the main event approached. However, chaos soon commenced as Naea was declared medically unfit to fight.
I immediately recognized the potential for crowd violence, having witnessed it before, and sought to diffuse the situation. I spoke with Sorovi about the possibility of unrest, and with his cooperation and quick action, we prepared to announce the situation. As the anticipation built, I informed the audience that the fight would take place later in the year, successfully alleviating tensions.
This chaos is precisely what the Boxing Commission of Fiji (BCF) aims to control and prevent. Last week, we explored several shortcomings in ensuring such situations do not recur, particularly in the context of Semi Dauloloma’s camp leading up to the event. The stakes were exceptionally high, as the Fiji heavyweight title has deep socio-cultural implications. For many in Fiji, especially the indigenous population, this title represents pride and dominance.
When Dauloloma fought Singh, emotions ran high, and once he knocked Singh down, the atmosphere shifted. Yet, Singh demonstrated incredible resilience, and soon the bout devolved into brutality. That night in Lawaqa reflects poorly on Fiji boxing, leaving the sport with significant obstacles to overcome as we move forward.