When the Anchor Drags: The Seafarers Union of Kenya’s Internal Reckoning and the Cost of Delayed Accountability

On 9 September 2026, the Executive Board of the Seafarers Union of Kenya (SUK) issued a formal notice invoking its constitutional mandate to convene the Annual Conference. The reason was stark: the Secretary General’s “failure, neglect and/or refusal” to discharge the duty of calling the meeting within the timelines and manner required by the Union’s Constitution. James Mlawasi, designated Convenor and identified in the signature block as Deputy SG-SUK, set the date for 7 October 2026 at 9:00 a.m., with the venue to be communicated later. The agenda is pointed—briefing on the failure to convene, Chairman’s report, audited accounts, deliberation on current leadership and alleged constitutional violations, and AOB. Copies went to the Registrar of Trade Unions, Principal Secretaries for Labour and for Shipping and Maritime Affairs, the Mombasa County Labour Officer, and the Director General of the Kenya Maritime Authority. Receipt stamps from the Authority and the County Labour Office confirm official awareness.

This is not a routine administrative circular. It is a constitutional power play inside one of Kenya’s most strategically important yet chronically unstable trade unions. And it arrives against a backdrop of years of factionalism that has repeatedly distracted SUK from the core business of defending seafarers in a sector still marked by unpaid wages, delayed documents, limited sea-time opportunities, and uneven enforcement of the Maritime Labour Convention.

SUK’s recent history is a catalogue of contested elections, parallel processes, court interventions, and uneasy truces. The 2021–2024 period saw rival elections, judicial nullifications, and the eventual registration of a new team that included Atie Swaleh Ramadhan as the first woman Secretary General in the African seafaring union space. Court records from the Employment and Labour Relations Court document ongoing disputes over legitimacy, membership lists, and the proper constitution of governing organs. Even after the formal registration of officials, residual claims and challenges have lingered.

The September 2026 notice therefore fits a pattern: when the ordinary constitutional machinery stalls—particularly the Secretary General’s duty to convene the supreme decision-making organ—the Executive Board asserts residual authority under Article 4(3)(iv)(1) and designates a Convenor under Article 4(3)(vi). The language is careful. It claims to give effect to, rather than derogate from, the Conference’s supremacy. It emphasises continuity of governance, accountability, orderly administration, and the preservation of democratic processes. Yet the very need to issue such a notice signals a breakdown in the ordinary chain of command.

In trade union governance, the Annual Conference is not a ceremonial gathering. It is the highest organ for receiving reports, adopting accounts, scrutinising leadership, and, where necessary, correcting course. When that organ is not convened on schedule, the democratic deficit grows. Members lose the formal space to demand answers. Financial transparency risks becoming selective. Allegations of constitutional violation—whatever their merit—remain untested in the proper forum. The Board’s decision to act is therefore defensible on its face as a safeguard against paralysis. Whether it will be accepted as legitimate by all factions, or itself become the subject of further litigation, remains to be seen.

The listed items reveal the real stakes. A briefing on the circumstances of the failure to convene puts the Secretary General’s performance under public scrutiny. The Chairman’s report on the development plan and Union affairs invites assessment of strategic direction. Consideration of audited statements tests financial stewardship. Most tellingly, the item on “matters relating to the current Union leadership and any alleged constitutional violations properly placed before the Conference” opens the door to accountability proceedings that could reshape the executive.

This is healthy in principle. Unions are not private clubs; they are membership organisations whose legitimacy rests on adherence to their own rules and on delivering tangible benefits to members. Kenyan seafarers continue to face structural problems: underemployment of qualified personnel, recruitment practices that sometimes shift costs onto workers contrary to international standards, delayed issuance of identity documents and clearances, and wage disparities with foreign crew performing similar work. Recent public statements by SUK itself have highlighted months without pay, detentions abroad, and the need for a coherent national wage structure through the Seafarers Wages Council. Internal governance failure undermines the Union’s capacity to prosecute these external battles with a single, credible voice.

Kenya has invested political capital in the blue economy. Seafarers are the human capital of that ambition. A divided or distracted union weakens their collective bargaining power, dilutes advocacy with government and the Kenya Maritime Authority, and leaves individual workers more vulnerable to exploitation. The notice’s carbon-copy list is therefore significant: it places the dispute squarely before the statutory regulators and the ministries responsible for labour and maritime affairs. The Registrar of Trade Unions has both the power and the duty to ensure that changes of officials and the conduct of conferences comply with the Labour Relations Act and the Union’s registered constitution. Official silence or delayed intervention risks prolonging uncertainty.

At the same time, regulatory overreach carries its own dangers. Unions must retain internal democratic autonomy. The proper sequence is for the Conference to meet, for members to deliberate and decide, and for the Registrar to register any resulting changes only after verifying procedural regularity. Premature external arbitration can itself become a source of further contestation.

A successful Conference on 7 October would do several things. It would establish a clear factual record of why the ordinary convening process failed. It would receive and, if appropriate, adopt financial statements so that members know the state of Union resources. It would allow structured debate on leadership performance and any alleged breaches, conducted under the voting rules in Article 4(3)(e)(ii). And it would end with either renewed confidence in the current leadership or a constitutional process for change—without descending into the parallel elections and court battles that have characterised previous cycles.

For ordinary seafarers, the measure of success is not which faction prevails but whether the Union emerges more focused on jobs, fair wages, safe working conditions, and effective representation. Recent efforts at broader unity among seafarer groups—SUK, welfare associations, and independent formations—show that some leaders recognise the cost of fragmentation. That recognition must now be matched by internal discipline.

The Executive Board’s notice is a necessary assertion of constitutional responsibility in the face of institutional drift. It correctly identifies the Annual Conference as the supreme organ and seeks to restore its functioning. Yet notices alone do not resolve underlying cultures of personalisation, weak institutional memory, or zero-sum competition for office. Sustainable reform requires clearer timelines, transparent membership registers, independent election processes where required by the Constitution, and a membership that insists on performance over personality.

Kenyan seafarers deserve a union that spends more energy securing their place in the global maritime labour market than fighting over who issues the next conference notice. The 7 October gathering will test whether SUK can finally prioritise the former. Regulators, members, and the wider maritime community should watch closely—not as spectators to another factional drama, but as stakeholders in the stability of a critical labour institution. The anchor has dragged long enough. It is time to reset it firmly.