"Can you sit here so you can tell me if there is enough breeze blowing?"
This was how my assignment started. On a weekend, I want to go to a building site with a wooden chair under the only mango tree that gives shade. All the bricklayers had gone to their various houses; the plumber was still fixing a place and preparing to go home. And someone has forgotten one of his instruments that was placed at the side of the entrance. I had only a job on that site that day, and it was to wait for my client who was coming. Check through the rooms and other places that have been completed, and for him to check what we have been doing if he doesn't have any problem before the final finishing.
I already did the most difficult aspect on the site as an architect. I had fought and argued over measurements with the mason, checked if any material had gone missing, got early to the site before anyone, was the last to leave, and coordinated everyone on site to be fast with their work and accurate.
Those things look almost insulting; wait for a long time and sit down. When I was telling one of my colleagues about it on call, he laughed at me and said, "Oga Archi, enjoy yourself, have fun. It's a soft work."
In between that discussion, my client came around with his family, his wife and three kids. We started from the anteroom. The man entered, looked around, opened the casement window, and closed it. On the light, we switched it off, and then we proceeded to the living room. Nothing funny. And that was the strange part. The building was ninety-nine percent done, but what we were looking for at that time was just a little thing he might notice, whether there is enough lighting everywhere. Whether the windows throw in enough air, whether the lights are switching on properly, and whether the doors are properly fixed.
When we got to the hallway, the client suddenly stopped and asked me a question: "Architect, will there still be enough space here if we put a bigger table, and will people still be able to move without colliding with each other?" Luckily, there were two chairs available, and we had to try with that. He walked through the space with his wife while they laughed. His wife said, "Honey, there are still enough spaces, but no one should add any additional things around there." I laughed this time because the wife is already setting what she wants, and during that moment, the house shifted from being an architectural project into the space the owner will soon move into, and they are loving it already.
While still checking the house, one of the kids dragged the chair and moved it towards one of the windows in the hallway and sat down.
"Mummy, this place looks cool. I think I like it here.
His mother looked at me. "You people planned this right?"
Yes, it was about coming out of my mouth, because I was the only one who drew the plan. But the reality here was that I had also put the window there, but I did not tell him to go and sit near the window.
So I also remained at that spot for some minutes after they had gone. It was already getting closer to evening time, and the sun had already moved across to see what we wanted to check for. Outside the compound, some nearby shops were playing some random music while I could hear the sounds of motorcycles moving by.
And that day, I got to know that my being there was not to inspect the building as I stood near that window. It was so the realization of my work from drawing into a living space and what goes on when people stopped treating it like a drawing.
And most often, what a minority of people always think about is that it's only those jobs that are difficult that require strength, technical knowledge, and speed. Most times, the harder job is simply staying long enough to observe what everyone else is too busy and occupied to notice.
I took one last look at the little boy's chair before walking out through the front door and locking it, and it was still facing the window.
Thank you for reading.
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