Vijendra Kumar, my first boss, interviewed me for a reporter’s job in 1981 when I was 18. At the end of the interview, he asked if I could type. I told him I was a touch-typist, which raised his eyebrows. Back in the 1980s, touch-typing was primarily a skill associated with secretaries using noisy manual typewriters, as computers were not yet common.
I was indeed learning touch-typing but at a slow pace of about 10 words per minute. Most people in the newsroom were two-finger typists, and Vijendra himself used four fingers on his small portable typewriter. Nevertheless, I survived and even thrived, skipping university for two exciting and rewarding years to build my career as a reporter and columnist. I later worked at The Fiji Times during university breaks. My time with Vijendra, whom we affectionately called “VK” after his initials, was a transformative education.
Vijendra was not the dramatic editor often portrayed in movies. He was cultured, elegant, always well-dressed, and exuded the demeanor of a tolerant father. He led a diverse team of reporters and sub-editors from his corner office, where he assembled pages, mentored senior journalists, and conducted lengthy phone calls. Occasionally, his booming laugh could be heard throughout the newsroom.
Despite the freedom he gave us as reporters, Vijendra never lost touch with the details. I learned this firsthand when one of my usually reliable sources from the National Federation Party offered me inside information in exchange for getting his photo published. When I presented the story to Vijendra, he bluntly informed me that it was false based on what his own sources had told him.
Some claimed Vijendra had read the Shorter Oxford Dictionary cover to cover. While I found that hard to believe, his prose was undoubtedly superior. In 1984, when Finance Minister Charles Walker resigned abruptly during the budget debate, a The Fiji Times editorial titled “Quo vadis, Mr Walker?” appeared. The newsroom was puzzled by the Latin phrase, which meant “where are you going?” Vijendra’s direction to look it up led to a humorous follow-up headline, “Quo vadis, ball?” under a photo of Walker playing golf.
Vijendra also had a playful side. Once, after a reporter finished an interview with an Australian model in a sari, Vijendra humorously remarked, “I’d like to unfurl that sari. Roll by roll,” sparking laughter in the newsroom.
An idealist and patriot, Vijendra believed passionately in Fiji and its societal progress. His idealism was shattered by the 1987 military coup and the subsequent challenging years. Despite constant threats to personal safety and criticisms about his stance on free speech, he kept The Fiji Times afloat. But in 1991, he had enough and moved with his family to Brisbane, a significant loss for Fiji.
Just last week, I was contemplating keeping in better touch with Vijendra, only to hear the next day that he had passed away. My loss.
Richard Naidu worked as a The Fiji Times reporter and columnist between 1981 and 1987.
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