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In Her Own Words: Kelcy Rokotuiviwa’s heartwarming story about her dad

Written by on December 5, 2024

 

“I wanted so bad to let my dad know that I could never be ashamed of our bread and butter.”

VERY LONG READ AHEAD!!
I recently shared a post of a woman who spoke about basically how “educated people” are often looked down upon by society when they decide to become a market vendor instead of using their “papers” to get noble blue- or white-collar jobs and I’m not going to lie, it definitely hit a nerve so I thought I’d share something of my own.
The particular photo   I have chosen to upload below is one of me and my dad. My dad is a street vendor (not a market vendor but they serve similar purpose) and i am so proud to say that he works tirelessly going from house to house or shop to shops, usually in the street of Suva, or right in front of the metropole by the sidewalk trying to sell vegetables each and every day in order to put food on our table, roof over our head, and send us to school with good bags, books, and proper uniforms.
I captured this photo back in 2020 where I        had just begun my journey at the Fiji maritime academy as a stage one student. On this particular afternoon, i had just finished classes from school and received a call from him asking me to come and help him finish selling the vegetables because he was getting tired of walking with the heavy goods. I didn’t have to think twice about it and headed his way. When i showed up, i could instantly see the regret on his face when he saw me in my white shirt with the FMA logo on it, neatly tucked into my black pants, necktie, epaulettes, and black pair of school boots.
I could never forget the words he said to me “Lewa iko sini madua na mai volivolitaki tu va qo vata kei na nomu uniform? Era na raici iko o ira kemuni vuli vata kei ira na tamata ni o mai cakava tu na cakacaka lolovira qo qai va tu qori na rairai vinaka ni nomu i sulu”🥺. I fought hard to hold back my tears but i said nothing and instantly removed my necktie and i started to roam the streets of suva, going from shop to shop, bystander to bystander with the cabbages and dhania on either sides of my arm calling out “CABBAGE $2, DHANIA $2”😂. As my father predicted, i got weird and funny looks from passersby because of how i was dressed. I didn’t mind and neither did i care.
I wanted so bad to let my dad know that i could never be ashamed of our bread and butter. That i have absolutely no reason to be embarrassed of being a street vendor because i wouldn’t even be in that uniform in the first place if it wasn’t for him and the work he does, so if i could be given the slightest chance to lighten that burden just a little bit even for a little while, i wouldn’t let it pass. As we sat down to rest after selling all our goods I told him “TA, au na sega vakadua ni madua na mai volivolitaki vata kei iko. Keu sa mani lai chief engineer sara ni dua na waqa levu, ke iko kaci yani meu mai BASA vata kei iko, Au na lako mai”.
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I don’t come from a well off family and my dad doesn’t have a blue or white collar job, but i have seen him go through so much tolerating the hot sun and braving the heavy rain so that i could wear that FMA uniform meu rawa noqu vuli🥺. He does this for all his seven kids and his first 3 are all in tertiary education level while the rest are in secondary and primary!. I am so proud to say that i have been a street vendor alongside my Ta since I was around 13 years old and the closer i get to achieving my dreams, the more i realise that “BASA” played a huge part in everything i have achieved so far and i say that with so much pride.♥️

 


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