Gangway Men: Nigeria’s Forgotten Port Watchdogs and the Case for a Hybrid Security Model

BY EGUONO ODJEGBA

When Comrade Adewale Adeyanju, Deputy President of the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC) and immediate past President General of the Maritime Workers Union of Nigeria (MWUN), renewed his plea for the reinstatement of “Onboard Gangway Men” during the International Seafarers Day celebration in Lagos, he reignited a debate that has simmered since the 2006 port concession reforms.
His argument that gangway men are the “eagle eyes” safeguarding berthed vessels and curbing trafficking, deserves serious interrogation against both Nigeria’s maritime history and global practices; especially against the backdrop of his consistent passionate appeals, during stint as PG MWUN.
For this reason, it is necessary to examine the matter in its historical context. Gangway men were once indispensable in Nigeria’s ports. Alongside tally clerks, they controlled ship access, monitored cargo, and prevented pilferage. Their statutory recognition under the Dock Labour Rule of 1967 and subsequent labour laws underscored their importance. Indeed, gangway men, alongside tally clerks, were statutory under the Dock Labour Rule of 1967, the National Dock Labour Board (1979), and later the Maritime Labour Act (2003).
But in 2006, the Federal Government abolished their roles, citing inefficiency, corruption, and the need to streamline operations under private concessionaires. By 2016, thousands of workers had been dismissed, leaving Navy, Customs, Nigerian Ports Authority, and the Nigerian Maritime Administration and Safety Agency as the sole custodians of vessel access for purposes of safety and security.
Yet Adeyanju’s concern is not misplaced. Since their removal, Nigeria has faced persistent challenges: arms trafficking, contraband inflows, and revenue leakages. The absence of human “watchdogs” has arguably widened the cracks in port security.
Nonetheless, it must be admitted that in other maritime nations, the role of gangway men has evolved or disappeared altogether. For example, in the United States, vessel access is tightly regulated under the International Ship and Port Facility Security (ISPS) Code, with the Coast Guard and federal agencies in charge. Human guards exist, but technology—biometric access, container scanning, and electronic seals, does the heavy lifting.
In the United Kingdom, port police and customs oversee ship access. Traditional gangway watch has been replaced by regulated port security staff, supported by CCTV and cargo management systems, while in Singapore, the Maritime & Port Authority enforces layered security. Human guards remain at terminals, but onboard vigilance is largely technological, with AI-driven cargo monitoring and smart port systems.
Nigeria, by contrast, moved abruptly from a human-heavy system to one reliant on agencies and partial ISPS compliance, without fully embracing the technological backbone that makes such transitions successful elsewhere.
While Adeyanju’s call should not be looked upon merely as a nostalgic plea, it is a pragmatic recognition of Nigeria’s peculiar vulnerabilities. Perhaps, this calls for a hybrid model. Unlike Singapore or the UK, Nigeria’s enforcement agencies often lack the manpower, resources, and technological sophistication to plug every gap. In such a context, reinstating gangway men under strict regulation and modern oversight could provide a crucial human layer of vigilance.
Study indicates that the advantages some of which are indicated here below, are far reaching:
-Real-time monitoring of ship access and cargo handling.
-Complementary support to Navy and Customs, reducing blind spots.
-Employment opportunities for trained maritime retirees, restoring union relevance.
But the risks are also equally concerning. This includes duplication of roles, bureaucratic overlap, and potential corruption; increased operational costs for concessionaires; and resistance from private operators wary of union influence.
The solution as stated earlier lies in a hybrid model where gangway men are reinstated not as independent actors, but as regulated auxiliaries either under NIMASA or NPA supervision, integrated with digital monitoring systems. This would marry the vigilance of human “eagle eyes” with the efficiency of modern port technology.
In conclusion, while security may be ‘everyone’s business’ as is routinely canvassed, in maritime operations it cannot be a free-for-all. Nigeria’s peculiar vulnerabilities demand a layered approach, taking for example, the role of Tantita Security Services Nigerian Limited (TSSNL), under the supervision of the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporatio (NNPC) Limited.
Therefore, rather than dismiss Adeyanju’s call as a mere union nostalgia; it is a reminder that in the fight against trafficking, sabotage, and economic leakages, human vigilance still matters. The challenge is to modernize it through a hybrid model that blends tradition with technology.