The Diary Game: [13/07/2026] The Week That Broke Me
Hello everyone, welcome to another episode of my dairy session I still remain your humble @madoshi, i want to share with everyone how my day went. I am typing this with hands that still feel like they belong to someone else. For the past week, they have known only one language: the language of parallel bars, scale rulers, drafting pencils, and endless corrections. Today, that week finally came to an end, and I stood in front of my studio to defend the first semester of a project that has completely taken over my life the design of an Oncology Centre in Minna, Niger State, built around the integration of nature and natural lighting.
Me at the studio during presentation
If you had walked into the studio any night this past week, you would have found me hunched over my drafting table, tracing lines until they blurred, redrawing a second floor plan for what felt like the hundredth time. Every room, every corridor, every therapy space had to be rethought not just for function, but for how light would fall into it, how a patient walking through chemotherapy would feel less like they were in a hospital and more like they were somewhere that still remembered they were human. That is the quiet weight of designing for oncology patients. You are not just drawing walls. You are drawing comfort, dignity, and hope into two-dimensional lines that someone else has to be able to read and believe in.
Site plan printed
The site plan took its own toll. Fitting a swimming pool, a basketball court, gardens, walkways, and a full medical facility onto one plot while keeping nature threaded through all of it meant erasing and starting over more times than I can count. There were nights I genuinely wondered if I was making any progress at all, or just moving lines from one wrong position to another wrong position. But today, dressed in my favorite pink and navy ankara because if I was going to defend a week of exhaustion, I was at least going to do it looking good I stood before the panel and presented it all.
Floor plan printed
The second floor plan. The site plan. The months of thinking compressed into one nervous, proud fifteen minutes.And somehow, it went well. There is a very specific kind of tiredness that comes after a moment like this. It is not just physical, though my back and eyes are definitely paying the price. It is the tiredness of having carried an idea in your head for weeks, protected it, doubted it, defended it against your own worst critic yourself and then finally setting it down in front of people and watching it hold up. I do not think anyone outside architecture school truly understands this specific exhaustion. But if you have ever poured a week of sleepless nights into something and then had to stand up and explain it with a straight face and steady hands, you know exactly what I mean. So after a very stressful day I was so hungry because I had not eaten something tangible through out the whole day, so when I finally got home I had to eat something so I made spaghetti with egg to compliment myself.
The spaghetti I made
