The Nigerian maritime media fraternity was once united. In that unity, there was respect, grace, love and ‘plenty’. There used to be just one body called Maritime Reporters Association of Nigeria (MARAN); a body respected by stakeholders as an indispensable part of the maritime family.
While MARAN still exists over the years, there have been more associations added to it, representing various interests in the maritime media space.
With these ‘multiple births’, unity became elusive, welfare was thrown overboard. Practicing maritime journalists became ‘orphans’ exposed to abuses, and abandoned to ‘sort’ themselves out. Basic issues such poor wages leading to unpaid bills and health challenges crept in. Deaths came in turns!
Sadly, the multiplicity of maritime journalists associations, is peculiar to the maritime industry. For instance, in the finance, aviation, energy and other sectors, there is no such thing as duplication of journalists associations.
Once again, the cold hands of death have visited the maritime journalism community. Another colleague is gone — lost to a sickness that could have been treated, to a situation that could have been managed, and to a tragedy that could have been avoided — if only we had built the structures to protect one another. The recent death of My Biyi Osijo offers a clarion call for a rethink about how maritime journalists have been co-existing.
And as we gather once again to mourn, to condole, to comfort, and to bury the dead, we are faced with a painful but honest question: How many more maritime journalists must die before we realise that unity is not an option, but a necessity for survival?
For years, we have watched as our colleagues battle avoidable illnesses with little or no support. We have seen them struggle under the weight of medical bills, financial hardship, and emotional trauma — many times in silence, many times alone, known to only family members and a few close friends and associates.
The population of maritime journalists who have been fortunate enough to cross the poverty line remains painfully small. The vast majority continue to live from hand to mouth, victims of a broken system that offers little stability, irregular salaries, and zero security.
How many maritime media houses pay salaries as and when due? How many provide medical facilities and health insurance? How many offer pension? How many create any form of safety net for the men and women who give their lives daily to report and build this industry? The answers are not far-fetched, and they are heartbreaking.
The recent event that was put together to honour the Comptroller-General of Nigeria Customs Service was not only a ceremonial gathering; it was a moment of sober reflection. In his honest submission, the Customs boss; Alhaji Adewale Adeniyi boldly challenged maritime journalists to close the gaps that have long divided them — to bridge the cracks that have made us weak, scattered, and vulnerable. He reminded us of what we already know but have continued to ignore: that without unification, we remain vulnerable, exposed and endangered.
Year after year, we lose one journalist after another to avoidable circumstances — illnesses that could have been treated if there was collective support; emergencies that could have been managed, if there was a functioning welfare structure; deaths that could have been prevented if we were one body speaking and acting in unison.
The life of a maritime journalist is filled with endless sacrifice. We work without weekends. We work through public holidays. We chase deadlines under immense pressure. We endure mental and physical stress that slowly weakens the body. Yet when crisis strikes, many are left to battle alone — with no system, no fund, no insurance, no association strong enough to step in and say: “You are not alone.”
We cannot continue like this. Enough is enough.
Disunity has robbed us of strength. It has stolen from us the power of collective bargaining. It has cost us opportunities that could have transformed lives. If we were united, we would have a single, powerful voice to negotiate welfare packages, establish health insurance schemes, create emergency funds, secure legal protections, and guarantee a safety net for every practicing journalist.
Unification is no longer a matter of convenience — it is a matter of life and death. We either sink or swim together. As the African principle of Ubuntu teaches: I am because we are. Our survival depends on our ability to become one, to care for one another, to rise above petty divisions, ego battles, and factional rivalry that have achieved nothing, but collective weakness.
On-going efforts to unify the various associations must be encouraged. It must succeed. We thank all those who have been driving the process. They deserve our support and encouragement.
This Editorial Opinion is dedicated to the memory of late Mr Biyi Osijo; a veteran journalist, who, before his recent passing, boldly and openly called for unification and better welfare for maritime journalists. His voice must not be in vain. His call must become our action. The time for unity is now.
