When Did Wukari Stop Living Together?

By -Engr. Mathias Luka Agbu

 

T here are things you don’t notice until you slow down.

 

I remember a Wukari where living together was normal. As a young boy, it wasn’t unusual to see Jukun people-Christians and Muslims-sharing the same streets, the same spaces, and the same everyday life. We didn’t think about it. We didn’t try to explain it. It was simply home.

 

Recently, something happened that made me pause.

 

An uncle of mine, a Muslim, was looking for a better family accommodation to rent around the Federal University area. Like many parts of Wukari, getting accommodation there is not easy. So I suggested he check other parts of town where it might be easier.

 

It sounded like a normal suggestion.

But in that moment, something hit me.

 

Where a person lives in Wukari today is not always just about availability or cost. There are areas quietly seen as belonging to certain groups, places where you naturally fit in, and places where you might think twice.

Even in simple things like motor parks, you can feel it.

 

Children grow up knowing “their side” and “the other side.” Suspicion replaces familiarity. Silence replaces conversation. And over time, separation stops being a temporary response to conflict and starts becoming a permanent identity.

 

Nobody says it out loud, but somehow, everyone understands it.

And I found myself asking, out of genuine concern: when did this become normal?

Because the things we quietly accept today have a way of shaping tomorrow.

 

Communities don’t change suddenly. They change slowly, through small decisions, quiet adjustments, and patterns we don’t question until they become the new reality.

 

For some people, this separation represents security and predictability. For others, it raises concerns about long-term cohesion and shared development.

But beyond how it feels, there’s a deeper question we must ask:

What kind of Wukari are we becoming?

And what kind of Wukari are we leaving behind for those coming after us?

 

If separation becomes permanent, what does that mean for collective progress?

If integration is pursued, what safeguards and confidence-building measures are necessary to make it sustainable?

 

These are questions for thinkers and young leaders within our community.

 

The future of a community should not be shaped by fear. It should be shaped by intention, by honest thinking, and by leadership, especially from those who can see what is happening.

 

Because this is not just about where we live. It’s about what our way of living is teaching us, and teaching the next generation.

 

Are we learning to stay apart?

Or are we learning how to live together, even when it is not easy?

These are not simple questions, but they are necessary ones.

 

Wukari does not just need peace. It needs people who are willing to think deeply about its future. Because the future will not come suddenly. It will grow quietly from what we accept, and from what we choose to question.

 

And this is where leadership matters.

Real leadership is not only about solving visible problems. It is about paying attention to the quiet shifts, the ones that shape who we become.

 

If we truly care about Wukari, then we must be willing to think and ask difficult questions and guide our community with intention.

 

Because in the end, the future of Wukari will be shaped by what we tolerate, by what we question, and by the kind of leadership we choose to provide.

 

The next generation of Wukari leaders must be prepared to engage these realities thoughtfully, without hostility, without denial, and without simplistic answers.

 

In the coming days, I will be announcing an essay competition designed to create space for structured, solution-driven contributions on this issue. The goal is to encourage policy-level thinking about Wukari’s future.