Nation on Board

by Lynn Schler

  One seaman explained, “Yes, there is no seaman who was not involved in the trading activities. If you have a house, as a seaman, you want to put chairs, table, television, stereo and so on, no matter how little it might be.”83 These purchases continue to serve as material reminders of their work and travels, as one retired seaman interviewed pointed out the imported items in his home: “Any old or fairly used items that were in good condition, we bought and sold them in Nigeria. You can see some of them in my living room, like the big mirror, the old pendulum wall clock, that flower vase, and the old stereo—were bought from Europe.”84 But once seamen filled their homes with these goods, they sold any duplicates they obtained on later journeys.85 Seamen and their families were often the first in their neighborhoods to have luxury items such as televisions and refrigerators. This was sometimes the cause of jealousy among neighbors; one woman explained: “They felt we had everything in the world, so whether we eat or not, they do not know. So, in most cases, they feel we are very rich.”86

  While trading was described as a vital source of supplementary income, seamen’s ability to engage in independent trade was dependent on a host of prerequisite conditions involving social, economic, and political relations. Changes in political or economic circumstances on board ships, at specific ports of call, or in customs policies in each country could result in the limiting or immediate cessation of seamen’s independent trade. Thus, seamen had to successfully nurture and negotiate their personal relations with captains, immigration officers, customs officials, dockers, European retailers, African customers, and fellow crewmates in order to ensure their ability to buy, transport, stow, and sell goods from one continent to another, as well as continually adapt their activities to new circumstances not of their own choosing.

  During the colonial period, seamen employed by Elder Dempster and other foreign companies were officially allowed to transport one to four items for personal use, depending on the specific vessel they were on. But seamen’s testimonies revealed that there was considerable latitude in the enforcement of this policy under the Elder Dempster captains. Some captains were willing to turn a blind eye to seamen’s activities, allowing them to transport items in their personal spaces, or even the cargo hold, space permitting. One retired seaman described the role of the captains in determining how much trade was permitted:

  We bought, but we were not allowed to buy goods. Whenever you wanted to do that you will have to negotiate with the captain. If he were liberal and he will allow us to buy four items, but some captains never bothered, you could buy anything, hide it and keep it in your store. But some British captains will not allow you to do that, they would tell you that you have not come to the ship to trade, you have come to work in the ship. . . . The captain called the shots. . . . No captain will tell you to trade. . . . He would overlook whatever the seamen did as regards trade. But some captains will never allow you to do that. Even before the crew get on board, the captain would have pasted a notice on the board that “no one is allow to trade.” . . . The notice on the board was boldly pasted by some captains while other captains never bothered.87

  The incalculability of a captain’s response could put seamen at great risk. For instance, one seaman claimed that he had invested tremendous time and resources after being contracted by a Canadian to carve and sell his wooden objects in Canada, but was later threatened with being sacked by his captain for conducting this side business.88 Thus, the captain of the ship played a pivotal role in determining the extent to which seamen could engage in trade, as seamen could not bring goods on board without his knowledge or permission, and routine inspections were conducted. Captains who allowed the trade would often require seamen to pay freight charges to the company and on some occasions, customs duties. The use of containers led to increased surveillance of goods transported by seamen, as permission to use containers was required from captains, and this was at a standard freight fee paid to the company at the port of arrival. When this system was introduced, groups of seamen had to organize together to fill an entire container with goods to make the export trade economically viable for each individual.89 But the containerization of shipping between West Africa and Europe began only in 1965, and it took several years before containers became the standard method for cargo transport on Elder Dempster Lines.90 Thus, even in the period of decolonization, seamen employed by Elder Dempster still enjoyed the lower level of regulation associated with cargo transport in the pre-containerization era.

  While captains served as the ultimate authority in determining how many items seamen could carry on board, seamen also had to establish and maintain solid relations with a complex mosaic of business partners and customers at each end of their operations. Seamen purchased goods from retailers across Europe and beyond, including in England, Holland, Germany, Spain, Brazil, and the Caribbean. The immense distances between various locations, and the particularities of each place, made the trade unpredictable and risky. Customs officials could be whimsical, and seamen could face unexpected fees from officers practicing strict enforcement. This made the level of profit irregular and resulted in major losses for some.91 Others complained that they themselves extended credit to customers, never to be repaid.92

  To mitigate against risks and increase profits, seamen had to establish relationships of trust with a vast array of retailers. While most of the transactions were based on “cash-and-carry,” some of those interviewed claimed that it was also possible to purchase items on credit.93 Full payment could be rendered only on return journeys that were sometimes months away, and therefore the extension of credit was possible only once seamen developed relations of trust with retailers abroad. This can be seen in the following description of relations between one seaman and his German supplier:

  He used to sell electronic appliances, it was from there I met him and sometimes whenever I was in Germany, I stayed with him and his family. I also worked with him in his shop. Here he put my honesty to the test and he found me truly honest. I got to know him when the ship I was to bring to Nigeria from Germany was not ready and I went to Bremen to buy something to sell here, that was how I met him and because the ship was not ready for almost six months. When I was leaving he asked if I want to sell anything and I told him I was interested, he gave some goods to sell and I returned his money. He even told other crew members who were in the same business of buying and selling to give me their own proceeds for onward transmission to him. One day, someone among our crew that I cannot identify went and duped him when I was on leave. The fraudster ordered for goods in my name, worth five hundred thousand naira at that time, and he never returned again. When I went to Bremen, the man asked me of the goods he sent to me, it was a long list, I said no and when I saw the long list I wept. I told him I never sent anyone.94

  This testimony revealed the extent to which personal relations were central to seamen’s success as traders, and they prided themselves on their credibility as businessmen. As seamen did not rely on middlemen for purchases, transport, or resale, their success in the independent trade was the result of their personal initiatives and efforts, and those interviewed were quick to link their achievements to their upright reputations.

  There were some seamen who, for various reasons, did not take part in the trade. For a few seamen interviewed, the secondhand trade was seen as a distraction to seafaring, and signaled a lack of professionalism. As one seaman charged: “Some people went there with the sole intension of making money. Some people even sold some portion of their food ration just for making additional money. All these I did not do and you could confirm this from other seamen and they will tell you the same about me.”95 Another seaman simply claimed that it was not worthwhile financially, and instead he opened side businesses in Lagos in order to supplement income:

  Look, you were paid for instance 5 kobo and you used that to buy something that you could sell for 10 kobo, which adds very little value. I don’t call it trade because, after a trip back from Europe, befo
re you could engage in this kind of trade again, it will take you about four to six months by which you could have spent all you had in the previous trade. I was not very keen about this, I already started a photocopy business in Lagos Island. In fact, I was the first person to have started that. . . . I bought the photocopy machine here in Nigeria, not abroad, and I did this business alongside as a seaman. And as I have said earlier, the seaman job was not a permanent one, so I needed something to [augment] my salary. More importantly, I already had children before I became a seaman.96

  As much as seamen emphasized their honesty and credibility in their business transactions, there was a clear dissociation from the illicit activity that was frequent among seamen and commonly linked to them. Some worked in cooperation with dockers, breaking down company cargoes and selling them on the black markets.97 Drug trafficking was also an extremely lucrative activity, and seamen claimed that many were lured to this business for its high returns.98 Some crew exported cannabis from Nigeria and sold it in Europe, while cocaine was purchased in Brazil and the Carribean and sold in Europe and Nigeria.99 Unlike the sale of secondhand goods, drug trafficking was conducted without the consent of captains, and required crew to hide the contraband somewhere on board. Small amounts of cannabis could be hidden among a seaman’s personal belongings, with the hope that it would not be revealed in routine searches. The carpenters, known as shippies, were well known for constructing hiding spots in the woodwork of the common areas of the ship.100 Drug trafficking by seamen required cooperation with dockers, who often sold them the drugs, and police or customs officials, who often acted as accomplices. Thus, similarly to the trade in secondhand goods, crew involved in the drug trade depended upon and fostered transnational economic networks.

  It was not only the trade itself, but the narratives that seamen have reconstructed around the trade that also reveal an act of conjuring—a space within which seamen reiterate a former sense of innovation, empowerment, and influence linked to the trade. Time and again, seamen described their independent economic activities as deviceful and pioneering enterprises, and some claimed to have been the first to begin the importing and exporting of various items between Africa and Europe. Thus, one seaman interviewed claimed that seamen were the first to sell apples in Nigeria: “It depended on the items you had interest in. I, in particular, had an interest in apples. I bought apples. In fact, we, seamen, pioneered the importation of apples into Nigeria. We imported about from France, England, and so on.”101 He also attributed seamen with the start of the scrap metal import industry in Nigeria:

  The job was so attractive. We made casual friends in Europe who gave some of us these articles, including cars free without asking for a dime. Therefore, we didn’t look into how much we earned. Our friends in Europe gave us these articles. We could bring in cars but because we couldn’t afford the freight, so, we scrapped. Note that we, seamen, started scrapping cars to sell in Nigeria before different traders started it now. We scrapped the car into parts so that it wouldn’t attract any freight.102

  Seamen’s trade also enabled an imagined redrawing of cultural boundaries between Nigeria and the Nigerian diaspora. The flow of goods from “back home” to places abroad played a role in extending a sense of familiarity and belonging, particularly in England. Thus, seamen identified the availability of Nigerian foodstuffs and alcohol in the social and cultural spaces of Liverpool and London as a factor contributing to their sense of proprietorship in the construction of those spaces. One seaman claimed, “[We sold] cartons of local beer [Star and Guilder] because our local beers are stronger than those ones brewed abroad. We sold all these items in Liverpool. People came to the ship and bought these items. . . . Sometimes, in those days in London, if you attended a party, Nigerian local beers were served.”103 The same can be seen in the quotation noted earlier in the chapter of a seaman who claimed that Liverpool was just like home because it was possible to find palm wine and amala in this British city.104

  But while seamen might have fashioned themselves around these narratives as citizens of the world, a more critical scrutinizing of their trading practices reveals the resilience of some racial, cultural, and national border regimes that seamen’s trade did not succeed in dismantling. Rather than reflecting a purely cosmopolitan enterprise, the circuits of seamen’s unofficial trade were more reminiscent of what Paul Gilroy has described as the “Black Atlantic.”105 Thus, racial alliances and racial hierarchies played a pivotal role in directing the flows of goods and wealth within the context of seamen’s trade. The following testimony hints at the role race played in mapping access to markets for seamen’s trading activities: “Honestly, we never sold to any European, but we sold in different African countries like Dakar, Monrovia, Freetown, Lagos, Gambia [Bathurst], Accra, and so on. The people came to the dock and asked is there anything to sell? And we said yes; the transaction took place immediately, so no European bought the fairly used items and appliances from us—their country is good.”106

  This seaman’s testimony reveals a keen awareness of gaps dividing African seamen, clients, and port cities on the one hand, and European citizens and countries on the other. The seaman’s assessment of this difference is linked to race, class, and national consciousness, all of which played a significant role in shaping seamen’s transnational encounters. Thus, while seamen’s independent trade evoked moments of inventiveness and autonomy, they never fully overcame the hierarchies and inequalities enforced by the colonial context.

  Indeed, rather than blurring notions of difference, some scholars have noted that transnational migrations and processes of globalization have in fact exacerbated historically entrenched hierarchies of race, class, and nation.107 This fact is crucial for understanding seamen’s engagement with nationalism in the era of decolonization. The innovations and inventiveness of their independent trade notwithstanding, it was seamen’s encounters with exclusion and discrimination in the context of their work and travels in the late colonial era that ultimately aroused their nationalist yearnings. In the upcoming chapter, we will see that seamen initially saw nationalism as a remedy to their disempowerment and an opportunity to improve their lot.

  Cargo on ship bound for West Africa. Photo courtesy of Claes Thure Moberg.

  Krooboy. Photo courtesy of Claes Thure Moberg.

  Group of Krooboys. Photo courtesy of P. M. Bass.

  Cargo on deck. Photo courtesy of P. M. Bass.

  Deck boys coming on board in Accra, Ghana. Photo courtesy of Christopher Clark.

  Deck on a Palm Line ship leaving West Africa. Photo courtesy of Christopher Clark.

  River Andoni, an NNSL ship. Photo courtesy of Selim Sam.

  King Jaja, an NNSL ship. Photo courtesy of Malcolm Cranfield.

  3

  From Citizens of the World to Citizens of Nigeria

  AT THE END OF WORLD WAR II, a tantalizing array of ideological and political possibilities for protest and dissent began to emerge across the black diaspora and in Africa. New alliances and coalitions coalesced around demands for ending racial discrimination and colonialism. In Africa, the culmination of these processes was the dismantling of colonialism and the establishment of independent nation-states. But the paths to this decisive result traversed a complex terrain of competing visions and ideological stances that drew upon solidarities ranging from broad Pan-Africanist perspectives to localized ethnic chauvinism. The ultimate victory of nationalist movements was rooted not only in the dismissal of European colonizers, but also in the defeat of alternative visions for postcolonial political and ideological alliances that did not adhere to national entities within colonial borders. Leaders of nationalist movements were preoccupied equally with defeating competing notions of solidarity within local populations as they were with defeating European colonialism. Thus, their successful rise to power should be measured not only in terms of their anticolonial agitation, but also with regard to the effective silencing of rival ideologies of solidarity. Critical of the impact
this trend had on the postcolonial political landscape, Fred Cooper summed up the era of decolonization in Africa as “a narrowing of possibilities.”1

  In the case of the Nigerian intelligentsia, Philip Zachernuk has argued that the processes of decolonization were characterized by a gradual move away from a Pan-African focus to a political agenda increasingly focused on Nigeria. Nigerian intellectuals educated in Europe were drawn to ideologies of Pan-Africanism while studying abroad. But returning home, they became entrenched in political activism and invested most of their energies in the internal affairs of Nigeria. Once nationalism became the main trope around which the political elite organized, the black diaspora offered far less ideological or organizational inspiration. Zachernuk argued that the turn inward was accompanied by increasing factionalism within this new Nigeria-focused group, as “they were pulled apart into factions representing the Nigerian domestic scene.”2 Thus, within the political organizing and ideological agendas of this intellectual elite, Pan-African ties played an increasingly minor role, and visions of black unity faded.3 This process was not unique to Nigeria, as can be seen in Frantz Fanon’s description of the rise of bourgeois nationalism throughout the continent: “We observe a permanent see-saw between African unity, which fades quicker and quicker into the mists of oblivion, and a heartbreaking return to chauvinism in its most bitter and detestable form.”4

  In the final analysis of Cooper, Zachernuk, and Fanon, the consolidation of power in the hands of political elites in the era of decolonization came at a price for everyday Africans. Leaders solidified their role in the local political landscape through conciliation with the colonial administration, and their co-option into the political establishment often led to ideological compromises. Pan-Africanism was largely abandoned, as were other radical agendas that challenged or disrupted colonial border regimes. The newly imagined nations were strictly confined to states adhering to colonial boundaries. In exchange for the gradual granting of political rights and powers within these borders, African leaders gave up on their militant anti-European rhetoric, and they moderated or even abandoned the more radical demands of their constituents. Michael Neocosmos claimed the very definition of the political underwent a narrowing in this process spanning the 1950s and 1960s, and popular expressions of political solidarity and protest were displaced by nationalist visions of politics. As he wrote, “African nationalism in that period had a particular conception of politics and the state that excluded popular-democratic self-activity. The writings and, even more so, the actions of most nationalists reflected an understanding of the state as the sole domain of politics.”5