It is almost 30 years since the Nigerian National Shipping Line (NNSL) was liquidated. In that exercise, several seafarers—engineers, deckhands, navigators, officers were forced into premature retirement.
They served at sea, often in harsh conditions, staffing the nation’s ships and carrying Nigeria’s flag across the world’s oceans. Yet the State, the agencies responsible, and even the unions under whose umbrella they worked, have all turned their backs on these hapless seafarers. The moral debt is undeniable, and the story of these men and women is a damning reflection of institutional neglect.
The collapse of NNSL was not an accident, but the result of a steady decline rooted in decades of mismanagement, political interference, ageing vessels, mounting debt, poor cargo support and the absence of long-term investment in ship renewal and maintenance. By the mid-1990s during tenure General Abdusallam Abubakar as military leader, the once-proud fleet was no longer commercially viable. By 1995, the liquidation came swiftly, assets were sold-off, and the workforce was abruptly disengaged. For the thousands of seafarers, this was not just the closure of a company, but the sudden end of livelihoods. Many of them were still in their prime, willing to work, yet they were compelled to retire unprepared. In reality, they were not retiring but abandoned; left without pension, gratuity or any of the benefits that had been promised.
The human cost has been enormous. According to reports, more than 600 of the disengaged workers have died since the liquidation, while Shipping Position Daily investigations found that at least 13 ex-NNSL seafarers died in 2024 alone while awaiting their long-overdue entitlements, and eight more have so far died in 2025. Others are bedridden, blind or battling chronic illness – casualties of years of hardship and neglect after numerous verification exercises. The cumulative toll over three decades is staggering. These are not mere statistics. They represent individuals—fathers, mothers and breadwinners—whose twilight years have been spent battling poverty, illness and neglect, rather than enjoying dignity after years of service to their nation.
Government’s handling of the matter has been marked by half-measures and insincerity. Verification exercises have been launched repeatedly, most recently in 2024, with the Federal Government and the Maritime Workers Union of Nigeria (MWUN) inviting beneficiaries and next of kin to present themselves for screening. While verification is necessary in principle, the endless cycles of screening without actual disbursement have become little more than a cruel ritual. Promises are made, files are reviewed, hope is stirred, yet nothing tangible reaches the pockets of those who need it most.
We recall an offer by the Nigerian Maritime Administration and Safety Agency (NIMASA) of N100 million, as a settlement for the entitlements, which was rightly rejected by the MWUN. The amount, when divided among the thousands of affected ex-seafarers, would have amounted to a paltry sum—barely N50,000 per person. It was, in every sense, tokenistic and insulting to the scale of the problem.
Yet, even while rejecting inadequate offers, the MWUN itself cannot escape responsibility. For nearly 30 years, under various leaderships, the union has not been able to secure a lasting resolution for its members. It has been the umbrella body for the neglected seafarers, but its inability to move beyond rhetoric and periodic protests has left feeling of many of its members betrayed. Some argue that the union’s role has been compromised by internal politics or misplaced strategies. Whatever the reasons, the undeniable fact is that MWUN has failed to translate decades of advocacy into actual benefits for its members. In this silence and inaction lies a form of complicity.
What makes the plight of ex-NNSL seafarers even more galling is the sharp contrast with the case of Nigeria Airways. Workers of the defunct airline, which was liquidated in the early 2000s, have seen significant progress in the payment of their entitlements. In 2018, over N22 billion was released as part payment of their severance benefits, with more approved subsequently, and only recently the Federal Government approved pensions for retired aviation workers, including Nigeria Airways staff. While Nigeria Airways workers were not fully-settled, at least there has been visible and substantial response. For the ex-NNSL seafarers, there has been nothing close to such commitment. The comparison highlights a painful double standard in the prioritization of workers’ welfare across sectors.
The consequences for the seafarers are devastating. Many live in penury; some are bedridden without access to proper healthcare. Others are dependent on children or extended families, while some live each day without hope. The years of waiting have stripped them of dignity, health and hope. Each new obituary among them is another indictment of a government that has chosen delay over justice.
It is impossible to overstate the damage this neglect has done to trust in public institutions and more importantly the trust in selfless service. When governments disengage workers, promises of terminal benefits are part of the deal. If those promises are never honoured, what message does that send to the workforce of today and tomorrow? It breeds cynicism, erodes faith in unions and government agencies, and undermines the moral authority of the State.
This matter demands urgent redress. The government must move beyond verification exercises and issue clear timelines for payment. It must allocate funds that reflect the true scale of what is owed, not symbolic sums. Transparency is essential: lists of verified beneficiaries, amounts due and amounts paid must be made public. MWUN must also awaken to its duty. It cannot continue as a passive observer or a mouthpiece for promises. It must press harder, mobilise, and if necessary, litigate to force action.
The plight of ex-NNSL seafarers is not just about unpaid benefits; it is about justice, dignity and national credibility. They kept Nigeria’s flag flying on the high seas; they represented the country in global waters. That they are being left to die waiting for entitlements that are rightfully theirs is an indictment of successive governments and union leaderships alike. If Nigeria could mobilise billions for ex-workers of other defunct corporations, it can certainly do the same for the forgotten seafarers.
To continue ignoring these men and women is to betray not just a legal obligation, but a human one. The measure of a nation is not in the size of its vessels or fleets, but in how it treats those who once sailed the assets.
