The Forgotten Igbos Of Kogi & Benue: Inside The Push To Reunite A Divided People Through Adada State

     

THE campaign for Adada State—an old but resurging agitation in the South-East—is no longer just a constitutional argument about equal state distribution. It has evolved into a deeper cultural and political question: What happens to the Igbo communities stranded outside Igboland by colonial-era boundaries?

Across Kogi and Benue States, several indigenous Igbo settlements—stretching from Ogugu and Ete in Kogi to parts of Obi, Oju, and Ado in Benue—live with an identity crisis born of administrative history rather than cultural choice. These communities speak Igbo dialects, celebrate Iri Ji (New Yam), practice Mmanwu masquerade traditions, and trace their lineage to Nsukka and Enugu North. Yet they remain politically classified as minorities in the North Central zone.

This tension—between cultural belonging and political placement—is fueling a renewed push for their integration into the proposed Adada State.

A People Cut Off by History

Historical records and oral traditions point to centuries of migration patterns connecting these border Igbos to the greater Nsukka cultural sphere. But with the 1976 and 1991 reorganizations of Nigerian states, colonial boundary lines solidified, severing their administrative ties to the South-East.

Elder statesman Dr. Chike Obidigbo describes them as *“peripheral Igbos”—*ethnically intact but structurally disconnected. Their identity is not a matter of debate; their exclusion, many argue, is a historical error waiting to be corrected.

These communities sit directly on the borders of Enugu North, separated only by the Anambra and Benue Rivers. Geography—Obidigbo insists—makes them a natural extension of Adada State, far more logically than proposals like Anioma, which lie outside the historic Igbo heartland.

A New State as Cultural Reconnection

Adada State, drawn from the Enugu North Senatorial District, would border most of these Kogi and Benue Igbo settlements. Advocates argue that state creation would do more than correct numerical imbalance in the South-East (currently the only zone with five states). It would reunify an ethnic group fractured by arbitrary British mapmaking.

Under the new arrangement, the border communities would gain:

• Political representation denied them in Kogi and Benue

• Cultural preservation, especially for Igbo dialects under pressure from Igala, Idoma, and Tiv majorities

• Economic development, built around new agro-industrial corridors

• Inclusion in Igbo policy structures, including Ohanaeze Ndigbo and regional development bodies

For many residents, joining Adada is not secession—it is reintegration.

Political Marginalisation in the North Central

Despite their population strength in pockets of Kogi East and parts of Benue, these Igbos have never produced a governor, senator, or major federal appointee from their home states. Their minority status limits political visibility and reduces access to development funds.

Adada State could change that equation.

Backed by Section 8(1) of the Constitution, supporters envision a referendum for boundary adjustments. Enugu North legislators are already united on the proposal, while Ohanaeze Ndigbo frames the demand as part of a long-term objective of Igbo unification across Nigeria’s fragmented map.

Economic Logic Behind a Cultural Movement

Beyond identity, the economic argument for Adada is equally compelling. The region already boasts of:

• Oil and gas deposits in Uzo-Uwani and Nsukka

• The Adada Cattle Ranch

• Fertile plains along the Benue River

• UNN’s agricultural and veterinary hubs

• Access to the Niger–Benue confluence, enabling inland water transport

Bringing in the border communities extends this economic arc. Their lands are among the most fertile in Kogi East and Benue, supporting yam, cassava, maize, and large-scale fishing. Shared markets like Ogugu and Ibaji serve as joint Igbo commercial zones, but infrastructural neglect—exemplified by the 2022 floods that devastated Kogi East—has stunted their growth.

A unified Adada could attract federal investment, revive long-proposed river ports like Ogwurugwu, and drive agro-processing industries along the Makurdi–Obollo–Ninth Mile corridor.

Former Ohanaeze President Nnia Nwodo describes Adada’s combined geography as “a natural belt of agriculture, animal husbandry, and waterway access.”

Cultural Survival in Hostile Terrain

Despite decades of assimilation pressure, these border communities have held onto their customs—Odinani spirituality, Mmanwu festivals, Igbo proverbs, even traditional titles. Linguists estimate that some villages in Kogi East remain 95% Igbo-speaking, a remarkable survival under Igala cultural dominance.

But the pressure is rising. Language loss, intermarriage patterns, and political disenfranchisement have accelerated fears of eventual cultural erasure.

Recent steps by Ohanaeze to officially integrate these border Igbos into national Igbo structures reflect a growing urgency.

For many stakeholders, Adada is not merely an administrative convenience—it is cultural rescue.

The Debate Ahead

While some South-East stakeholders support Anioma State as the region’s next viable option, Adada’s proponents argue that theirs is the only proposal with both historical legitimacy and direct benefits for displaced Igbo communities beyond the geopolitical boundary.

Dr. Obidigbo sums up the sentiment driving this movement:

“If the Igbos in Benue and Kogi agree to return home through Adada, our leaders must weigh that option. History has left them outside. Justice should bring them back.”

The question now is whether Nigeria’s constitutional review process—and the political will behind it—will finally reconnect a people long separated from their ancestral identity.

From the Indigenous Igbos in Kogi State Facebook Page