Fiji declares HIV emergency as drug crisis fuels outbreak to 1 in 60 adults

59 babies acquired HIV from mothers in 2024; a 2-month-old diagnosed with both HIV and tuberculosis; 117 HIV-related deaths in 2025, up from 25 in 2021.
Stigma drives people away from the very services that can help them
The health minister's call to end discrimination as Fiji confronts its fastest-growing HIV crisis.
Mark

Why is Fiji's outbreak so different from what's happening globally? Everywhere else, HIV is declining.

Mimi

Fiji became a major drug trafficking hub. Methamphetamine from the Americas started flowing through the islands to Australia and Asia. That created a needle-sharing crisis that spread the virus fast.

Luke

But drug use alone doesn't explain it. The source says half the new cases come from sexual transmission, not injection. So there's something else happening with sexual transmission too.

Mark

What's blocking people from getting tested and treated?

Mimi

Stigma, mainly. Fiji is deeply religious. People fear being recognized at a clinic. They're afraid of shame, exclusion, poverty, transport barriers. And there's just not enough information about how the virus works or how treatable it is.

Luke

The numbers on that are sobering. Only 39 percent know their status. Only 22 percent are on treatment. That's not a testing problem—that's a trust problem.

Mark

What about the babies?

Mimi

Fifty-nine infants acquired HIV from their mothers last year. A two-month-old was just diagnosed with both HIV and tuberculosis. One in 50 pregnant women in Fiji carry the virus.

Luke

That's preventable. If mothers knew their status and got treatment, most of those transmissions wouldn't happen. But the same barriers—stigma, fear, lack of information—are keeping pregnant women away from care.

Mark

What's the government actually doing?

Mimi

They announced expanded testing, treatment access, PrEP for prevention, and a formal needle-syringe program. The health minister is also asking people to stop stigmatizing those with HIV.

Luke

That's the right direction, but "rapid expansion" is vague. We don't know if the health system has the capacity, the funding, or the trust to pull it off. The real test is whether people actually show up.

  • Fiji's HIV prevalence has nearly tripled in five years — from 1 in 167 adults to 1 in 60 — a trajectory that runs directly against global progress on the disease.
  • Methamphetamine smuggling routes passing through Fiji have flooded local communities with drugs, and needle-sharing among users now accounts for roughly half of all new infections.
  • The human cost is sharpening at its most vulnerable edges: 59 infants contracted HIV from their mothers in a single year, and a two-month-old is now the youngest patient living with both HIV and tuberculosis.
  • Only 39% of infected Fijians know their status and just 22% receive treatment — a fraction of the global average — as stigma, poverty, and fear of recognition keep people away from clinics that could save their lives.
  • The government has announced an emergency response: expanded testing, broader treatment access, PrEP distribution, and a formal needle-syringe program, paired with a public appeal to end the shaming that drives people from care.

On a Pacific island nation better known for its shores than its sorrows, Fiji has declared a national HIV emergency — a formal acknowledgment that a quiet crisis has become an undeniable one. Driven by methamphetamine trafficking that turned needle-sharing into a vector of transmission, and compounded by stigma that keeps the sick from seeking care, the country has watched its HIV prevalence nearly triple in five years. The declaration is both a reckoning and a call: that silence, shame, and inaction carry a body count, and that a society's deepest taboos can become its most lethal vulnerabilities.

Fiji, a Pacific island nation of fewer than a million people, declared a national HIV emergency this week after data revealed that one in every 60 adults now carries the virus — a rate that has nearly tripled in five years and runs counter to declining global trends. Health Minister Dr. Atonio Lalabalavu framed the declaration as a call for urgent, coordinated action against what has become an accelerating epidemic.

Two crises have converged to produce this outcome. Fiji has become a key transit point for methamphetamine trafficked from the Americas toward Australia, New Zealand, and Asia, and large quantities have seeped into local communities. Addiction and needle-sharing have followed, accounting for roughly half of all new HIV cases in 2025 where transmission was identified. Sexual transmission — fueled by low condom use and the stigma that discourages protection-seeking — accounts for the rest. That year brought 2,016 new diagnoses and 117 HIV-related deaths, compared to just 25 in 2021.

The epidemic's reach into the most vulnerable is especially stark. A two-month-old has been identified as the youngest patient living with both HIV and tuberculosis. Fifty-nine infants acquired the virus from their mothers in 2024 alone. One in 50 pregnant women in Fiji now carries HIV.

What makes the crisis harder to contain is how much of it remains invisible. Only 39% of infected Fijians know their status, and just 22% are on treatment — far below the global average of 78%. Fiji is a deeply religious society where sexual taboos and fear of judgment keep people from testing. Joeli Colati, who has lived with HIV for 19 years and leads Fiji Network Plus, described the barriers plainly: stigma, poverty, transport, confidentiality, and fear conspire to keep people away from clinics even when they want help.

The government's response plan includes rapid expansion of testing and treatment, broader access to PrEP, and the introduction of a formal needle-syringe program. Minister Lalabalavu called on Fijians to stop shaming those with HIV, warning that stigma pushes people away from the services that could save them. Colati offered a simpler frame: knowing your status, he said, gives you the power to act. Whether Fiji's health system can move quickly enough to reverse a trend that has already outpaced the world remains the open and urgent question.

Fiji, a Pacific island nation of fewer than a million people known for its beaches and tourism, has declared a national HIV emergency. The announcement came Tuesday from Health Minister Dr. Atonio Lalabalavu, who framed it as a response to what he called the "seriousness of the epidemic and the urgent, coordinated response our country now needs." The numbers behind that declaration are stark: one in every 60 adults in Fiji now carries HIV, a prevalence rate that defies the global trend of declining infections.

Five years ago, the ratio was one in 167. The acceleration has been driven by two converging crises. The first is methamphetamine. Fiji has become a crucial transit point for drugs trafficked from the Americas to markets in Australia, New Zealand, and Asia. Massive stockpiles have seeped into local communities, spurring addiction and, critically, needle-sharing among people who inject drugs. In 2025, roughly half of all new HIV cases where transmission mode was identified came through intravenous drug use. The other half came through sexual transmission, fueled by low condom use, multiple partners, and the stigma that keeps people from seeking protection or treatment.

The scale of the outbreak became visible only after Fiji declared an initial outbreak in January 2025 and ramped up testing. That year brought 2,016 new diagnoses. The human toll has accelerated sharply: 117 people died from HIV-related causes in 2025, compared to 25 in 2021. The virus has reached the youngest and most vulnerable. Save the Children Fiji reported this week that a two-month-old baby is now the youngest identified patient living with both HIV and tuberculosis. Last year, 59 infants acquired HIV from their mothers during pregnancy, labor, delivery, or breastfeeding. One in 50 pregnant women in Fiji carry the virus.

Yet the official numbers capture only part of the crisis. Renata Ram, Fiji adviser for the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS, told CNN that what troubles her most is "the speed of the epidemic and the number of people who may be living with HIV without knowing it." Only about 39 percent of people living with HIV in Fiji know their status. Of those, fewer than a quarter—22 percent—are on treatment. By contrast, the global average for treatment access is 78 percent. When HIV goes untreated, it progresses to AIDS, leaving the body vulnerable to fatal illnesses and cancers.

Barriers to treatment run deep. Fiji is a deeply religious society where premarital and casual sex are considered taboo. Joeli Colati, executive director of Fiji Network Plus, an organization supporting people with HIV, has lived with the virus for 19 years. He described the obstacles plainly: "It's also connected to stigma, poverty, transport, confidentiality, fear." Many people avoid HIV clinics not because they refuse treatment but because they fear being recognized. There is also a widespread information gap—many Fijians do not understand how the virus is transmitted or how effective treatment can be. Colati said the fear is real enough to override the desire for help.

Health Minister Lalabalavu announced a response plan: rapid expansion of testing, treatment access, and pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), a preventative medication. The government will also introduce a formal needle and syringe program. He urged anyone exposed to HIV through needle-sharing or unprotected sex to come forward for testing. He also called on Fijians to stop shaming or excluding people based on HIV status, saying "stigma drives people away from the very services that can help them." Colati echoed that message: "Knowing your HIV status gives you the power to do something about it." The question now is whether Fiji's health system can move fast enough to reverse a trend that has already outpaced the world's progress against the virus.

What concerns me most is the speed of the epidemic and the number of people who may be living with HIV without knowing it.
— Renata Ram, UNAIDS adviser for Fiji
The reason is not always that somebody does not want treatment. It can be fear of being recognized at the HIV clinic.
— Joeli Colati, executive director of Fiji Network Plus
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