Steadfast and Private: The Life of Soona Vili

A quiet force in a public storm

Soona Vili — sometimes recorded as Soona Vili Fualaau — is a figure whose life reads like two chapters at once: one private, threaded with family and tradition; the other public, defined by a scandal that became a national story. Born in Samoa and later immigrating to the United States, she built a life centered on home and kin. When events ripped into that domestic sphere, she met them with restraint, a mixture of shock and protective resolve. This is an account of the woman at the center of a family saga: what is known, what remains private, and how dates and decisions mapped her family’s course.

Basic information

Family at the center

The family table that orbits Soona’s story is compact but heavy with history. Her husband, Luaiva Fualaau, is a private presence in the narrative; together they raised four children. The youngest, Vili (born June 26, 1983), became the axis of public attention in the late 1990s. Two children — Audrey and Georgia — were born in 1997 and 1998 respectively and were raised in large part by Soona during the ensuing legal turmoil. A later addition to the family, Sophia, was born in November 2022. The family added its first great-grandchild, Elias, on May 30, 2025.

The 1997 rupture and courtroom moments

In 1997, the private rhythm of the family snapped. The discovery of an illicit relationship between Soona’s 12-year-old son and his teacher became the hinge on which their lives swung outward into headlines. The legal response culminated in criminal charges against the teacher and in family testimony that was raw, direct, and public. Soona’s courtroom statements contained elements of hurt and bewilderment — she recounted trusting the teacher and allowing her son to spend time in her home, then confronting a betrayal she had not imagined. In her testimony she asked, pointedly, “How could you? I trusted you.”

Yet her feelings did not harden into simple anger. She spoke of the grandchildren — two little girls born out of the scandal — and the impossibility of casting them aside. “I can’t say I hate Mary,” she said then, framing a sentiment that oscillated between reproach and reluctant compassion. Her voice in those moments became a paradox: a mother’s blade and a grandmother’s blanket, both present.

Pursuing accountability: the 2002 civil suit

In 2002, Soona joined her son in a civil lawsuit that sought $1,000,000 in damages from the local school district and police department. The claim alleged failures in institutional oversight and protection. The trial ran for a month, and the jury ultimately rejected the suit, finding no liability on the part of the defendants. The unsuccessful effort was nevertheless an assertion: a family demanding that systems be held to account. It also marked the last major public legal action directly associated with Soona’s name.

Key numbers:

• $1,000,000 claimed in damages (2002).
• One month trial duration (2002).
• Jury verdict: no liability (2002).

Raising children and grandchildren behind a veil

After the litigation, Soona largely withdrew from the headlines. The photos and interviews ceased; what remained was the daily work of caregiving. She became the primary caregiver to Audrey and Georgia while the legal penalties against the teacher played out. Later, when Vili married the former teacher in 2005, public attention returned briefly, and family members navigated an uneasy, complicated peace.

Soona’s life after the peak of publicity is marked by ordinary measurements: birthdays, school events, family meals, new babies. The record does not show a public career, corporate board memberships, or verifiable wealth. Instead, it sketches a modest domestic life threaded with cultural practices typical of Samoan-American households — extended family support, close-knit ties, and a preference for privacy.

A timeline of public moments

Public silence, personal resilience

There is a paradox in Soona’s trajectory: she is central to a story that fascinated a nation, yet she personally chose obscurity. Details about her early life in Samoa — exact birthdate, schooling, the date of immigration — remain private. That lack of public record feels intentional; it is as if she allowed the family tree’s roots to stay underground while the branches were exposed to every wind.

Her actions in public — court appearances, the decision to join a civil suit, caretaking the children — communicate a set of priorities. Numbers and dates mark legal milestones and births. Between them, her days were measured not in headlines but in care: raising grandchildren, preserving cultural ties, and keeping family life afloat when the tides rose.

The family now: growth and ordinary joys

The most recent public markers are quiet and domestic. Grandchildren have grown into adulthood. New babies arrived. The family added a great-grandson on May 30, 2025. Those dates are small anchors: 1997 and 1998 for the births of Audrey and Georgia; November 2022 for Sophia; May 30, 2025 for Elias. They are proof that life continued, steady as a heartbeat, even after the storm.

Soona’s story is not one of public accolades. It is a narrative of endurance — a woman whose name appears in court files and family records, who weathered public scrutiny and thereafter focused on the intimate ledger of everyday life. She remains a portrait of private stewardship in a very public history, a reminder that not every life in the glare seeks the stage.