Wakanda as urban imaginaries, yet nothing feels like it
When we watch Black Panther, the first thing that comes to mind is Wakanda, the magnetic technology, the glittering skyline, and the promise of a future untouched by colonization. It looks like the perfect city: modern, proud, and self-sufficient. In many ways, urban planners in our world share the same fascination. They envision their own versions of Wakanda, where technology and design become symbols of progress. Policy papers and masterplans are filled with buzzwords about innovation, resilience, and smart governance, yet often they reveal more about how governments imagine cities than how citizens actually live in them.
I have lost count of how many times I have heard cities glorify the idea of a “smart city.” It is as if modernity can be measured by sensors, skyscrapers, or digital dashboards. The urban imaginary turns into a contest of who looks more advanced, a matter of branding rather than belonging.
In Makassar, my hometown, this vision takes shape along the coast. For generations, the sea has been our heritage; our ancestors were sailors whose lives were woven into the tides. Yet in the pursuit of a “sophisticated dream city,” large reclamation projects have replaced their settlements with luxury developments. The narrative of progress pushes aside the very people who built the city’s identity.
Perhaps this is where the fantasy of Wakanda fades. Governments love the image of its shining skyline but forget what truly made it powerful: its soul. They are blinded by technology but overlook the people, the culture, and the memories that give a city meaning. Wakanda’s strength was never just in its vibranium or design, but in how it stayed rooted in its own traditions while embracing the future. Our cities could learn from that. True progress should not dazzle; it should ground us.