“No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.” – Gautama Buddha.
•••
“…So yeah, it’s basically vintage meets contemporary.”
Tari rounded up with his in depth analysis of the requirements stipulated by the celebrity couple contractors, looking every bit the stoic, impassive overseer he was. His profile was basically void of any expression, both positive and negative but projected mainly a height of professionalism that couldn’t be breached or compromised. If she hadn’t known him prior to this project, she’d have assumed he wasn’t capable of feeling any emotion at all and was merely a glorified statue filled with breath of life.
It was Monday, and they had converged as scheduled. In the conference room that housed a vast variety of building specialists ranging from mechanical and chemical engineers to construction managers and laborers—Lani was also granted the privilege to voice her opinion on the proceedings of the ongoing construction. Usually, the counsel of an interior designer like hers wasn’t sought for until construction was past its building phase, but the circumstances surrounding the terms and conditions of the colossal importance of the project made it vital that her presence was ensured. However, even upon earning her place on this panel, she couldn’t help but feel out of place owing to the strange nature of technicalities being discussed.
Perhaps, it wasn’t such a good idea.
“Mr. Tijani wants the house done as soon as possible,” Tari’s hands slid into the outer compartments of his blue mink overcoat cape. His apathy to fashion was still in play as characterized by the loose, casual manner he wore the jacket. For some reason, that condition only dazed her faculties more. The rest of his attire was a fitted black khaki trousers and brown Chelsea boots. He was standing right next to a broad, looming white board behind the pioneer chair of the conference table—that made his 6’2 height look petite. On the board, the most significant details they had discussed were scrawled.
“So, yeah we’re using a hundred men. In two months, we should be able to complete the first phase.” He paused, his gaze roaming the entire room—apparently awaiting an additional remark from any of its occupants. “No more questions before we move on?” Suddenly, his gaze landed on hers. “Miss Olaere? I hope you’re not lost, and you understand at least a figment of what we’ve discussed here today?”
His action, which highlighted the fact that he was concerned about her falling out of the loop as a result of difficulties in comprehending the topic of discussion, warmed her insides like a bonfire. She couldn’t help the smile of gratitude that graced her lips. It felt good that he had extended such display of affection towards her, that he hadn’t shown anyone else in the room. But then again, everyone else easily grasped the essence of what was being discussed. From another perspective, she was the only one prone to confusion in the gathering, hence, he only made her subtly displaced state more obvious. Either ways, a wide smile adorned her radiant face.
“I do understand to a good extent,” She nodded curtly, her hands entwined. Tari raised a brow and tilted his head to one side, looking somewhat skeptical. “I mean, yea, definitely not all, but to a certain degree, I understand. I’m with you.”
“Good,” He nodded. “It’s not exactly compulsory that you’re here at the moment, but it wouldn’t hurt to be here anyway.” His gaze lingered on hers for a few seconds, as though soaring through her train of thoughts in search of something he had lost in it. He looked away and continued. “What we’re about to discuss next leans towards the methods of building the house, both inside and outside and is definitely an area that we would find your insights, invaluable.”
“Alright, shoot then.” She gave another charismatic nod that set into play, the next thing on the agenda.
“Due to the budget at hand—and the massive nature of what we want to build,” Tari continued, his stare back on its riding spree. “We would be imploring a certain building technique, that no one yet in this part of the world – has dared. It isn’t like we can’t ask for a bigger budget, as our contractor is a multi billionaire of course. Nonetheless, this isn’t necessarily about maximizing our money making potential. Every single one of us here earn good enough wages, that wouldn’t make us so hungry and thirsty at the prospect of a little or even large increment.
“So yeah, this is about passion and doing our job to the best of our abilities because most times, having a massive budget doesn’t necessarily stretch our artistry skills as we simply lean on the luxury money provides. So ladies and gents, I want to announce to you that the villa of the Tijanis would be the very first Passivhaus building on the continent…”
Passivhaus? That statement flickered a beam of light in the dark hallway of Lani’s memories.
“…I know we’re already beginning to wonder, thinking—what the hell is Passivhaus? Do not fret. We have a Passivhaus consultant in the house who wouldn’t only give us a brief expository speech on what the term actually means, but would also be available for extensive consulting all through the project. So please, help me welcome on board—Miss Carmen Bullock; An architect and specialist in the field recruited by Sky and currently working part time to introducing more unconventional, innovative ways of building. A round of applause, please.”
Lani joined the clapping population of the room, jamming her hands gently as the addressed rose to her feet to exchange pleasantries with a standing Tari. After he settled into his own seat, and the specialist occupied Tari’s previous stance by the board. It was then Lani had the green light to ogle the foreigner. She was definitely an American—probably in her late twenties. She had auburn, fringy hair, freckles, a pointed nose and a well tanned skin that said a lot of her time spent in countries with hot climates. And Lani guessed she was very much pretty in a stern, impassive way as further embossed by her outfit of a black, three piece skirt kilt suit.
“Thank you very much for the elaborate introduction, Tari.” Lani figured she was gravely wrong by her assumption of the woman being an American. Her words were thickly embedded in the British accent, and the pronunciation of the ‘a’ vowel in Tari’s name had been substituted for the ‘o’ sound. “I’m very privileged to be in this room of vibrant, Nigerian professionals and this would mark the first time I’m consulting with Africans so yeah, I’m really excited.”
“Oh really?” A brawny, bald headed man sitting on Tari’s right, who Lani guessed was one of two mechanical engineers in the room, questioned the young foreigner. “First time in Africa, then?”
“No, not really.” Carmen shook her head, a nervous smile occupying flashing over her face. “I’ve been to Cape Town, for leisure purposes that had nothing to do with work. I’ve always wanted to visit Nigeria though, but well, it just didn’t fully materialize. I’ve just been exhausted mostly from the travelling nature of my job, but now that I’m here I’m really happy.”
“I see, make sure you do enjoy the experience to its fullest.” The engineer replied. “Eat the food, wear the clothes—watch the movies also. They might not be of great quality as per execution, but they do have good content. Plus, you’d find the subpar execution amusing anyway. Oh, and another fun fact—you are not allowed to criticize it. We Nigerians of course have the license to make fun of our stuff here that aren’t of good standard, but when foreigners do it? Oh, hell descends. It’s not tolerated in any way.”
“Quit making her uncomfortable, Isaac.” Tari scowled, while Carmen simply giggled, apparently finding the entire thing amusing. Funny, it was indeed. Although, it was nothing but the truth. Nigerians simply didn’t condone such intrusive foreign behavior. “I’m sure she already has a sense of Africans hospitality, if she had watched the Black Panther movie like every other average movie-goer and seen the demonstration of warmth from the Jabari clan leader to the CIA guy. She doesn’t need a live or online demonstration.” Tari’s remark initiated a stream of laughter, as he scolded his colleague before turning to face Carmen. “Do continue, please.”
“As I was saying earlier,” Carmen continued. Her smile had altered to one of enthusiasm. “Oh—” She held her chin between her left thumb and index finger. “I—just figured I haven’t started explaining anything, since I was simply in the process of introducing myself earlier. Without further ado, let’s move into the topic of discussion. Tari mentioned something about us going about the business of building this house to achieve a Passivhaus structure. So, my dear colleagues—or am I permitted to say friends?” Everyone nodded at once in agreement, prompting a wide grin from Carmen. “Dear friends then. Let’s take it from the top. What’s a Passivhaus?
“Passivhaus, coined from the amalgamation of the words Passive and House, is also referred to as Passive house in some countries. It’s nothing but a construction concept that refers to leading international energy efficient design standards for living. Passivhaus buildings are built according to principles developed by the PHI (Passivhaus Institute) in Germany, where it originally originated from. The body is the leading institute for research and development of sustainable constructions.”
Carmen let out a deep breath, in an obvious bid to expel all anxiety and to also gauge the level of attention being paid to her lecture before proceeding. Lani hadn’t had much success in comprehending most of the information that had been dished out. She forced herself to concentrate harder, so she wouldn’t find herself dangling at the rims of comprehension, prone to falling down from the push of ignorance.
“Let’s move on to the things that really differentiate and define the term, so you’d understand it better—such as the benefits for example. A few amongst the various beneficiary pleasures when living in a Passivhaus include high level of comfort, improved indoor air quality due to excellent insulation, air tightness and heat recovery systems. This means, that they are easily powered by renewable energy resources like solar panels and heat pumps.
“Another good implication of the previously mentioned point, is that they drastically cut down electricity bills by a very high percentage—in fact, a percentage slash as high as ninety. They also reduce carbon footprints and keep pollen dust out of the house which is of great advantage to the average person plagued by allergies. It is further characterized with air tight, continuous insulation and triple paned windows.”
“Sounds quite innovative,” A fair, stunning man with ruffled unkempt hair and a hoarse baritone pointed out. He sat beside Isaac, and due to their similar gruff outward appearance, Lani knew he also had to be an engineer who did a large amount of manual work with his hands; probably a chemical engineer. “But why are we trying to cut down the bills of these people in the first place? They’re billionaires aren’t they? The power holding company would consider that a disservice.”
While the rest of the room found the remark amusing, Tari didn’t.
“John, I’d really appreciate it if Carmen wasn’t interrupted again for remarks that don’t actually help our cause,” He sprung straight into action in an omnipotent capacity monotone. She couldn’t help but find his take-charge trait appealing. It must feel pretty good, to always be in a position where you’re calling the shot amidst other brilliant, diligent personas. He probably didn’t even know how much others would kill for such position because he probably took it for granted.
“As I was saying, Passivhaus is the next big thing and so many architects and building specialists around the world are currently jumping on the wave and embracing it. While some haven’t accepted it fully, a large proportion of said population definitely incorporate some of its characteristics into their designs. Compost bins for example is amongst Passivhaus numerous sustainability characteristics.”
And finally, she had something to contribute to the conversation.
Leaning forward, with her hands now balled into fists, Lani cleared her throat and drew the attention of everyone else in the room. “While I’ve always admired sustainability features like composite bins and all that, I still wonder about its eventual effect really. Does ticking boxes of sustainability features of a house make it more habitable sustainable or just gives it features that might fail to have an overall impact?
“For example, let’s say I have a house with a living roof of maybe color red or green and compost bins, that doesn’t stop it from being an energy consuming monster. I’d rather lean on integrated and corporal designs. That’s always the way forward. I don’t know if you get me?”
“I do, get you and I really love your insight.” Carmen gave her a luxuriant smile, that went great lengths in portraying the emotion in her words. “I’m definitely convinced you all here understand me now. Well, while Miss…” She trailed off, looking in Lani’s direction but Tari hopped right to the rescue before the addressee could utter a word.
“Olaere. She is the interior designer on the project and we’re mainly consulting with her for the preliminary stages of the inner designs of the house, so that it could compliment the furniture well.”
“Such collaborative effort, I love.” Carmen said, directing her attention to Lani. “Miss Olaere, you do have a point but a Passivhaus could always have incorporated, integrated designs and even more if the architect on the job is that brilliant and has mastered the delicate art and tenets of Passivhaus construction and I’m confident to assure you that this house wouldn’t fall short of brilliance, because Mr. Ibiyemi here is one of the most brilliant architects I’ve ever consulted with.”
“I see,” Lani nodded, suppressing the urge to throw a mocking smile in the direction of Tari. Ever since the meeting had commenced, he had been nothing but professional and she didn’t want to fall short of such comport.
“Yeah, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” Carmen assured her. “It’s not so much different from a regular building, it’s just that special attention is paid to the energy conserving areas. Oh and the need to eliminate a phenomenon called ‘thermal bridging’ which occurs when the temperature of one material transfers to another through mere contact. The elimination is done by sealing off the interior of a space. A home’s internal temperature is usually more stable at default. And let me also add that Passivhaus buildings are usually more resilient to power outages, as internal temperature remains comfortable even when light goes off. I guess that’s all for now, I’d be returning to my seat now.”
Once again, a roar of applause shook the entire room as Carmen slumped to her seat on Tari’s left, and the latter rose from his seat back to the position by the board.
“Thanks for the insight, Carmen. I really appreciate it.” Tari gave her a bow of respect, before looking back up at the board. “So that’s it, guys. We are about to make history. In a couple of months, we would be erecting the very first building of the Passivhaus kind here in Africa. If I were a doctor, I’d say I feel like we’re on the verge of discovering the cure to cancer and HIV/AIDS. Any more additions
before we bring this meeting to a close and begin our ride to the site?”
“One question,” John raised his hand up. “What is the worst case scenario of a Passivhaus building gone wrong?”
Tari frowned. “It is the same as the worst case scenario of any building gone wrong. It would inevitably collapse. Why are you asking?”
“Nothing, it’s just that Carmen discussed so many technicalities earlier that I was begin to wonder—what could happen if one isn’t done correctly.”
Carmen could only giggle, while Tari shook his head.
“That isn’t your problem, dude.” Tari continued and Lani could infer that the duo had a jovial relationship as a result of multiple, past collaborations. “Your job is to build and maintain the machinery used on site, not wondering what would happen or go wrong with the building. That’s my own problem, let me worry about that.”
“There is no harm in worrying though,” An elderly, white bearded man who donned a baseball cap offered. He was the building and construction manager of the laborers on site. “I mean, definitely if a bad fate befalls the building—God forbid such happens—it would implicate the rest of us also. No one cares if the engineers who simply maintain the machines, had anything to do with the outcome. It would only soil our respective names.”
Tari still didn’t find John’s worry valid, as advertised by his reply. “Now you all are talking like we’re some sort of football squad, in which our names and pictures are revealed to the public before we begin our work. How many people would even know us? Or would bother to know us? Stop worrying about things that can’t happen and let’s focus on our jobs, please.”
Lani could only laugh at Tari’s grumpy words, while the rest of the room found it infuriating.
“Yes, boss.” The construction manager, who was opposite Lani on the table continued. She couldn’t exactly recall his name and so she was forced to think of him in his work capacity only. “What about the payment for the laborers? You know the usual drill. They won’t be up and doing until they see the money. Surely, I don’t need to tell you this again.”
Lani couldn’t help but cringe at the polluted reasoning of the manager. It was greatly appalling, especially when they had a foreigner in the room. Surely there was a way that the man could have brought up the issue of money in a discrete way that didn’t exactly mar the general image of the country.
Even if it wasn’t all peachy, it didn’t feel right to call it what it was.
She noticed that Tari found it equally disconcerting as connoted by his deepened scowl, but there was no way he could go about being subtle about his reply since the question itself was straightforward. Lani strained her vision to read the expression on Carmen’s face to discern just how much stunned she was but it was impossible to catch a view from her angle of sight. All she could see was a pool of pinned auburn hair.
“We’d discuss that tomorrow, Mr. Adeleke.” Tari said tersely, in an irked voice. “No further comments about that, please. I guess we’ve reached the end of our meeting then. We can all leave to our respective stations. Miss Olaere, please don’t leave for your office yet. I need to see you before you depart.”
“Okay,” She replied in an uncertain voice, as the occupants of the room filed out in a disorganized manner. Tari disappeared out of the door with the arm of Carmen linked in his elbow. Okay, he told her to wait. He wasn’t of course thinking she had all day to wait for him while he dallied about with a British vision. Was she his type? Did he dig foreign women too?
It was simply of no concern to her—his preference to women, that is. He could be attracted to an orangutan for all she cared. She was simply irritated because he seemed to be wasting precious time that she didn’t have in abundance.
Her thoughts ceased, as he waltzed back into the room with his hands buried back into his pockets. He motioned that she move closer to his pioneer chair with a simple wave of hands, and she almost didn’t go along with his display of superiority. He really enjoyed giving people orders, didn’t he?
“Hey, Lani. How are you?” He enquired, as she settled into the seat he was motioning to. “I hope you had a nice weekend.”
“Well, the weekend was mostly uneventful but it was still splendid nonetheless.” She replied, clutching the iron bars protruding from the sides of her chair. It would seem that he couldn’t exactly recall his action of calling her on the evening of Friday. Just like she had deduced, he was slightly drunk and was probably oblivious to the fact that they had engaged in a rather, informal, lengthy conversation over the phone several days ago. She wondered how bewildered his reaction would be if she brought it to his notice.
“Good then, you look well rested and much better.” His fingers started to drum on the table in an unpleasant rhythm. The memory hit her like a gust of wind, as she quickly recalled the emotion masked behind the action. It was nothing but plain worry. What was he worried about? Did she make him feel comfortable? Or was his discomfort caused by something else entirely?
“I didn’t tell you to stay back because I have business to discuss with you or something.” He continued, although the movement of his hands had come to an abrupt halt. “I just needed the opinion of a friend, that’s all. I hope that’s not too much.”
“A friend?” She echoed his words. Surely, he must have other relationships that would suffice for such demands but then the memory of their phone call came back to mind. If there was anything to take from their conversation, it was definitely that his friends’ supply was in a bigger shortage than fuel in the country. “Okay then, no wahala. It depends on how long you intend on keeping me here, though. I really don’t have all day. I have to get to the office. I have a meeting with my team, just like you have just concluded yours here.”
“I’m not asking you to be my therapist, don’t be worried.” He sat up. “Just a simple advice, that’s all. This Passivhaus thingy that I’m about to embark on has got me really worried. I’m really enthusiastic because we’d be breaking new grounds and all that but then I’m trying to consider other options and then I’m wondering if it’s really worth the stress. I mean, just like Isaac said earlier, we have an abundant budget so we could relax and let it cushion the blow. We necessarily don’t have to go out of our way in doing something innovative to keep spending at a minimum.
“But then again, it just feels like it’s not progress. I’ve been an architect for about three years, and it feels like I’m not doing anything new or refreshing. It feels like I’m just rehashing old ideas and revamping them. So when I stumbled upon this Passivhaus thing I got really excited and all, to the point that maybe I began to dream too much. I know I’m talking too much already, I just don’t know how to put this.”
She bit her lower lip, a faint gleam of a smile on her cheek. “No, you’re not rambling. I do understand where your head is at, currently. You’re at a crossroad, a point that could change your life totally and you’re taking extra care so you don’t fall into a pit, whilst questioning if your resort of being too careful isn’t daring enough.”
“Exactly,” His fist banged into the table, upsetting her a bit. The action caught her unaware. “You understand me so well.”
She giggled. “It’s just that I’ve been in a similar position. Well, my advice to you is that you should simply do your thing and go for it. There is no great man that achieved something big, who didn’t take risks and who didn’t fail at first. There is a very low probability that your first attempt would hit the mark so why waste time contemplating if you should take the risk, when taking the risk doesn’t even guarantee success but is only the first step in achieving greatness
“So, I’d honestly advise you to take it. Worst case scenario, the building collapses like you said earlier and we both know that isn’t happening because you’re brilliant and experienced also. You’re not that unfortunate, okay? So just do you. And even if you’re that unfortunate, that automatically changed the moment that I joined the team. I infect everything I dabble in with good fortune—like a sophisticated perfume diffusing into the air.”
“I can see that,” He smirked, a sly smile on the edges of his lips. “I knew all that, everything you said—but hearing it from another person is indeed soothing. Thanks, I really needed to hear it. You can definitely take your leave now. I’m done holding you hostage.”
She set about to leaving, and he arose to accompany her to the garage in the premises. On their way out, they touched on other technicalities pertaining to the projects and their various resorts in tackling the problems adjudicated to their respective offices. When they stopped by her grey saloon Honda CRV, he took the liberty of pulling the door open for her. She smiled at his gentlemanly gesture since it wasn’t in conformity with his behavioral makeup.
“So, when next am I going to see you?” He asked, as she lowered herself to the driver seat of the vehicle.
Oh, well.
“I don’t have any business at the site until work is done.” She replied, looking up at his towering figure. “So next two months, I guess.”
If he was disappointed, he hid it quite well with a stone cold, solid cold gaze before slamming her door shut. She waved with her arm, and he smiled back as she twisted the key in its ignition slot and ramped up the engine to head out of Sky. Unexpectedly, it was a short, ride that wasn’t plagued by traffic gridlocks or controversial commercial vehicle driving which was defiant of a cut throat Monday prevalent attributes. She was back in Graffity in no time, and was riding the elevator to the ninth floor in which her office was situated, when it halted at the sixth floor to admit a lone occupant.
Stephen.
Every confrontational, defensive bone and fiber in her body hardened as he came to stand by her side. She felt everything but comfortable with him, and his impolite and vile demeanor had only gone further in cementing her disgust for him. Anytime their gazes jammed, the memory of him grabbing her butt would stream in her head, and it would require partaking in an activity of great intellectual tasking nature to take her mind off it. Today was the first time they had been alone since that incident.
“How are you doing?” He asked with his trademark sly smile, as his gaze sized her up from head to toe. She felt like lunging at him, and hurling her bag hard into his perfect face. She wondered how he’d react. He’d probably burst into tears like a baby and weep, because, of course, he belonged to the entitled, lazy, privileged class of kids from mogul families who needn’t work to have a good life.
She decided to ignore his question, and act like there was no one in the elevator with her but she figured it wouldn’t work. One of his many infuriating characteristics was his stubborn, unrelenting spirit.
“Lani, Hello?”
She grunted. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“I see,” He nodded, obviously impressed with himself that he had managed to draw out a reply from her. “Looking as delicious as always. It’s a pity we don’t stay in the same office anymore. I don’t have the luxury to stare at you as much as I want to and I’m not exactly welcomed when I come to visit you.”
“Actually you’re not supposed to have the luxury to stare at me.” She glowered at him, her anger rising. “I’m not an art painting or museum artifact placed in a glass panel for admiration. Nope, I’m a human like you and so I didn’t work to get this job here at Graffity just so a guy could stare at me all day if he wants to. I’m here to work and to make a living. Just in case you didn’t know the real reason why people leave their houses very early in the morning and take work so seriously? Now you know the reason why.”
“Calm down, I was only messing with you.” For some reason, the entire thing was still amusing to him. “I was only saying I wish I could see your face more but unfortunately I can’t. But you must miss me, right?
Is this guy for real?
The statement was downright ludicrous, that she didn’t even know the best way to respond. She decided to keep her lips sealed, whilst praying that the elevator would pick up speed and reach its destination faster but as if it heard her plea, the velocity seemed to deteriorate intermittently upon arriving on higher floors.
“So I hear you got awarded the Dayo Tijani project.” He persisted as expected. He just couldn’t take no or silence for an answer. “Congratulations, I trust you’d kick it out of the park.”
And for once, she did feel an emotion that wasn’t negative towards him because it seemed that for the short lapse of time he had genuinely taken interest in her artistry and shown support.
“Thank you, Stephen. I really appreciate it.” She smiled up at him. “When you do get a contract too, I trust that you’d do well with it. Now, if you would excuse me—I really have to get going as I have a meeting and so much work to do.”
The final stop was their destination, and they were alighting together on the same floor. She was all set to dart out of the area of enclosed space to the large hallway of offices, when the doors parted but his action put a pause to her plans.
His right hand suddenly came down on the small of her back, and would have lowered downward to caress further if she didn’t give him a hard whack on his wrist that made him yelp out in pain. Fury simmered in her veins and she thought her retaliation as inadequate and inefficient. Without thinking, she advanced closer to him, shot out her right foot and rammed it hard into his groin.
Another yelp, followed by a series of profanities and curses ensued as she stepped out of the elevator in satisfied spirits. Whirling around to look at his revolting figure clad in a black Gucci patterned sweatshirt, faded jeans and winter boots—she put in for good measure.
“The next time you touch me like that you ass, you’d be getting two kicks in that area.” Her volume was loud to the extent that people walking down the corridor could hear clearly. That was the intention, anyway. “Women aren’t objects made for the satisfaction of your vile, dirty needs. We are human beings like you are, okay? If some women would willingly allow you disrespect them like that, then not me. You’re just lucky there is nothing of a harmful nature around here. Like a sledgehammer for instance that I could lodge up your ass, you idiot.
“Because that’s what will happen again if you try such. If you’re that touchy feely and you have no one to touch, then get yourself a stuffed, feminine teddy bear. Or better yet, a sex doll. They’re on wild demand these days for perverts like you.”
And with that she quickly strutted off, putting reasonable distance between them before she could calm her nerves and return to a neutral state of mind that wasn’t cautious. Oh, how much he irritated her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to tolerate more of his advances judging from his wounded look either. If he knew what was best for him, he’d stay away. Shoving thoughts relating to him aside, she took the moment to immerse herself in the magic that radiated off the surroundings of the hallway.
Light beads of differing colors were entangled into moulds of indefinite and definite shaped chandeliers on the ceilings. The emblem of the firm—Graffity—was engraved in a cursive, three dimensional, wooden carved panels that were integrated into the wall, alongside marble, glossy tiles. It was simply nothing but dark magic.
She arrived at her office, let herself in and settled into her cubicle. The offices were sparsely furnished in the same fashion save the contemporary, mobile furniture. After greeting Mr. Imakhai who was the elderly colleague that shared the same office space with her, she settled into her desk and set about to beginning work. It was going to be a long day, and it wasn’t going to become any shorter if she didn’t commence work instantly.
*****
“Alright, show me what you got.” He clasped his hands together, encircled it round his neck before reclining backwards into the chair. Monday had come and as protocol demanded, another meeting was in place. It was officially their fifth meeting, and they had already made good strides into work already. It was as a result of his work policies though. If it was up to her, they’d pretty much still be in the preliminary stages.
“I’m reading it out, genius, so using the word showing in that sentence isn’t appropriate.” She gave him a mocking smile, that he of course found amusing. They were in their usual spot in the school cafeteria, amidst the wild buzz and siren of ongoing chatter from numerous ongoing conversations. It was a wonder that they could hear each other clearly without straining their ears.
“Whatever,” He shrugged. “Go on.”
“First on the list here is green construction. What is green construction? Green construction is a building methodology that combines mainstream popularity features like modern housing ideas and green roofs with the use of more unique materials like cob, straw, bamboo or wood pallets. Some of the materials are quite unusual, that one wouldn’t think of when investing in the building of a modern house but due to its eco-friendly nature, it is considered okay and is being practiced even till today.”
“Okay, I like what I’m hearing so far.” He nodded. “Go on, I’m all ears.”
“Now to Earth houses. Earth houses are built with the use of the earth beneath our feet, as a means of attaining sustainable houses. Some of the longest lasting buildings are earthen and most of these buildings include cob, rammed earth and earth bag buildings. While the first two are made with a particular mix of clay, earth bags are a more modern twist on using the earth as a building material. Now on to Cob houses.”
“Cob houses?” He said in an incredulous voice. “As in cob from corn?”
“Oh, God no.” She shook her head in a vehement manner while laughing. “Cob in this context means a material made out of a mixture of straw and earth. It’s basically your adobe homes, save the formation in blocks and bricks. In cob however, the material is added in large handfuls in order to form a unique structure. Cob houses usually look like they are made out of clay and don’t be mislead. These buildings if built well could last centuries.”
“Centuries?” He smirked. “Please remove all exaggerations from the content. It could cause a deduction of marks.”
“You’re such a killjoy,” She grumbled as she picked up her pen to draw a dash over the place in reference. “Now moving on to Earth bags. These are houses built in a vertically stacked manner to make straight or curved walls, or they can be built into a dome shaped building that needs no additional framing to make a roof. The bags can be filled with a variety of earthy material for example, crushed volcanic rock which is also an insulation technique. They are very eco friendly too and cheap, but aren’t usually all that attractive.”
“Before we go on, you do know that we’re going to memorize the bulk of what we put down in the document, right?” Tari said, massaging his forehead gently as his eyes skimmed his own copy of the laminated paper. “It’s basically like project defense. Draw up your research, type it up, submit it to the lecturer and defend it.”
“Urgh! And I have been copying everything word for word from the internet.” She slapped the page over her face in dismay. “What is this stupid departmental collaboration project about anyway? Who is it helping?”
“Well, it was set up so that people from differing courses could learn one or two things about their different studies that could prove beneficiary to their course and mission in the future.” He replied. “At least that’s what they said. It’s just a front put up to reshuffle students into weaker areas of studies that suit them if they don’t do well in their first year, of course.”
“Our country, Nigeria.” Her shoulders slumped. “You work and work to get admission into the university for your desired course, and even then it isn’t even guaranteed until you still have it with you in your second year. God help us.”
Sometimes when she sat down to ponder on the state of things in the country, it simply caused her great ache and pain. There wasn’t much in place set by the apathetic, unconcerned, heavily corrupted government to ease day to day living of its citizens. A government that wasn’t helping its citizens, shouldn’t provide discomfort at least—but such wasn’t the case in the country. Man’s biggest enemy after himself was the government.
“Let’s just round up, and follow that trend for the rest of the semester until this project is done with and then we can have enough time to continue with our lamenting.” His remark brought her back to the present. “We still have two types to go. Push on, I’m all ears.”
“Wood houses,” She swallowed. “Whilst wood is very versatile and sustainable, it does have its downsides also. Over harvesting and deforestation for example can exceed the ability of the forests to regenerate themselves. Therefore, when we want to construct a wood house we should lean towards materials like log and timber in which production is certified sustainably through harvested trees. There are various types – Cordwood, Log house, Timber frames and even Tree house frames.
“Moving on we have Straw houses which is also inexpensive and provides excellent insulation. These qualities make straw construction a green-building method. Most importantly, straw bales are a byproduct of grain farming, therefore building straw houses is a great way of reusing something that is doomed for waste.”
“Think hellfire for straws that have sinned,” Tari gave her a playful wink. What persona the boy had. One moment he was all business, and the next he was all informal and cordial. Understanding him fully was intellectual suicide; like a primary school kid trying to solve complex, mathematical, statistical equations. “What? Your eyes were almost closing. I had to do something, before you sleep on me and everyone around us thinks I bored you to sleep or something.”
“Oh, so you do care about your social reputation, heh? And you haven’t been to an actual school party before?” She mocked him. “And you’re always dressing as serious and strict like a lecturer.”
“I don’t dress like a lecturer.” He frowned, folding his arms and sitting up as if to examine his outfit. “In fact, factoring into consideration the fact that you’re always lecturing me on how my social life needs a change and improvement? You’re the lecturer in both of us.”
She giggled hard, placing her hands over her chest. “You’re not serious, at all. And to think that there was nothing other than that rough exterior to you, huh? You’re quite a fascinating person, Tari. If I was a scientist, I’d happily enjoy the journey of discovering something like you because it’s always fun at the ending and it’s totally worth it.”
“If scientists were thinking of fun when going about their businesses, I don’t think we would have access to the many privileges we have today—so could we please track back to topic?” He critiqued, and it was right at that moment she knew that she had pushed her luck too far.
“Let’s round up shall we?” Her gaze returned to the jotter perched on her thighs. “Up next is bamboo houses. Bamboo houses are also very eco friendly when compared to wood because bamboo is a very strong material as it can withstand hurricanes and earthquakes.”
“Chinese films kind off abused the authenticity of the strength of bamboo sticks, though.” Tari said. “In their ancient films, they fought with them a lot and many end up being broken on occasions where it was simply hit on mere body surfaces and now they’re saying it can withstand hurricanes? Okay, I’d take their word for it. Next, please.”
Her lips stretched into another smile as she progressed. “Stone houses are next and are also very sustainable. They are built with rocks and therefore have natural beauty and don’t require painting. They are built with the use of local materials and are very comfortable.”
“The kind of house an Igbo man would gladly build so as to cut cost of painting,” Tari chimed in. “Next, please.”
“Tiny houses are next and are built with green building materials and recycled supplies. They are very small houses and therefore do not require sophisticated heating and cooling solutions and can also be easily moved to a different location.”
“A portable house. Make sense die.” Tari nodded, obviously impressed with the discovery. “It’s just that it isn’t exactly portable since I can’t put it into my pocket and carry it about with ease. It’d have to be on top of one gargantuan vehicle which most average people won’t have. So what’s the use? Is it really portable? Nonsense, move on please.”
“Calm down, okay.” She smiled. “Up next are green-roof homes to finally cap it all. Asides from their usual visual splendor, and island esque effect they help in managing storm water runoff. It reflects heat rather than absorbing it like a regular roof and also lowers building’s cooling cost.”
“Hmm, you know this brings to mind another entirely innovative building technique called Passivhaus. But that’s a topic for another time as our time here today has run its course. I really have to get going now, since I have a class in the next couple of minutes. See you, same time tomorrow.” Tari rushed as he shot to his feet, poured the stack of books into his duffel and slung it over his bag before offering her a wide smile. “Oh, and thanks for calling yesterday. It really brightened my day in general.”
“Aww, I’d definitely call more then.” Her cheeks flushed in emotion, as she looked up at him. His reaction wasn’t quite what she’d have expected. His brows creased, and his forehead became wrinkled before he replied.
“Oh, okay. Do that if you want. Later.” And then he scurried out of the hall, like a cat in chase of a mouse that had enraged it so much. Just like she had acknowledged earlier, comprehending Tari Ibiyemi was as difficult as counting sand particles in a wet lump but she made an internal vow that she was going to embark on the mission anyway.
She had absolutely nothing to lose.
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The central vice is already shaping up, and emerging from the dark—you’d need unwavering focus from henceforth so as to comprehend the story and the little atoms of mystery that would be disseminated here and there. So, stay tuned and tell me what you think about the chapter in the comments.
Have you learned one or two things about architecture so far? I am in no way an architect, so all what you see is a product of intense research. I hope it all isn’t in vain.
See you next week, have a splendid weekend.