Sydney’s Gangland War: The Rise and Fall of the KVT Crew

Sydney’s Gangland War: The Rise and Fall of the KVT Crew


Western Sydney has always been more than just a cluster of suburbs—it’s a world of its own. A sprawling landscape where different cultures collide, it has long been home to migrants from across the globe, each community bringing its traditions, struggles, and survival stories. Among them was a large number of Fijian families who settled in areas like Mount Druitt, Merrylands, and Guildford, drawn by affordable housing and the hope of a fresh start.
But life here wasn’t easy. Many families faced financial hardship, working long hours in low-paying jobs, while their children grew up in neighborhoods plagued by unemployment, overcrowded housing, and underfunded schools. For young men in particular, the daily reality often meant limited opportunities and frequent clashes with authority. Police profiling and community stigma reinforced a sense of alienation.
In this environment, the seeds of the Kyiti family—better known as KVT—were planted.
The name itself carried cultural weight. “Kyiti,” drawn from the Fijian word kyi, symbolized identity and belonging. For young Fijian-Australians navigating life between two worlds—heritage and harsh Australian streets—the word became a badge of pride. What began as a loose brotherhood of boys looking out for one another slowly grew into something much more organized.
At first, the group wasn’t involved in large-scale crime. They fought rival street crews, protected their neighborhoods, and carried the kind of rebellious bravado that gave them a sense of control in a city where they often felt powerless. They were united by ethnicity, geography, and loyalty—values that made them unusually cohesive compared to other street groups.
But in the world of organized crime, such unity rarely goes unnoticed.