Dedication

For my wife — Chelsea — who was told she would never walk again.

And then stood up.

For my mother — who was told the cancer would take her, again and again.

And chose to heal from the inside out. Every single time.

For my father — Imam Shafi Koya — who blessed the water and opened the door to the spiritual world. The priest who taught me that healing begins with the divine.

For my great-grandparents — Hassan Abdul and Zainab Koya — taken from Kerala to Fiji under chains they called "contracts."

Who carried the warrior code in their bones so that one day, a boy born in Suva would feel it stirring in his blood.

For Sadi Koya (SM Koya) — leader of the National Federation Party, the first Indian leader in Fiji, a man who bridged worlds.

For every ancestor whose name I carry, whose strength flows through my veins, whose warriors' hearts still beat in my chest.

For my cousin Nazif — gone too soon, taken at 15 months by a runaway car. I saw the women crying before I understood why.

For every warrior who was told to sit down, shut up, and accept the system.

I didn't. And neither should you.

For the boy from Fiji who refused to quit — this one's for us.

We lead with love.