This design research explores a speculative architecture rooted in the everyday practices of the people of Ganvie, seeking to amplify rather than impose new ideas. The title draws from the discourse of the “Architecture of the Everyday,” a term introduced in 1997 by Deborah Berke and Steven Harris, which critiques monumental, heroic, celebrity-driven architecture. As resistance to the “savior complexes” rooted in contemporary initiatives, this project aligns itself with an architectural agency that is unassuming, anti-monumental, and embedded in everyday rituals. 

The project is set in Ganvie, a water village in Benin, West Africa. Here, the spaces of labor, domesticity, and culture are deeply interconnected as a rhizomatic network. Everyday rituals revolve around the crop cycles of water hyacinth, the tides, and boat-making. This network remained undisturbed by the formalities of “capital A” architecture, with rituals unfolding organically within the built environment, crafted and sourced locally.

However, recent institutional efforts to “modernize” the community have started to disrupt the local economy and way of life. Case study houses reliant on external capital were introduced, equipped with contemporary amenities and advanced building techniques. New “capital A saviors” from overseas began to sanitize the waterscape, while the residents—already displaced from the mainland—faced another form of eviction.

In response to these intrusions, this project limits its agency within the cultural rift created by these forces. Rather than proposing formal architecture, we offer an architectural “tool-kit” inspired by traditional fabrication techniques and locally sourced materials. The project does not aim to introduce foreign concepts or new programs but to re-engage with the Ganvian ways of living. Our design approach suggests a method for communal construction that embraces the people’s everyday rituals.

At the core of this proposal are two simple yet operative elements, informed by the local communal fishing rituals: the pulley and the platform. These tools serve as a vehicle for both construction and everyday production, ensuring that space-making remains embedded in the practices of the Ganvian community. 

The fabrication of space begins with local shipbuilders. Using the same techniques for crafting traditional wooden boats, we create floating platforms that serve as barges for transporting materials and as a floating ground plane for construction. Then, concrete pillars sourced from local fabricators are transported on these platforms. The pulleys, mounted on these pillars, serve as a means of lifting and moving materials during construction. As the community assembles the structure, the boats gather as they would for fishing. Once the pillars are in place and the floating platforms are secured, further construction can continue, using the pulleys on the pillars. As the building matures, the pulleys will continue to serve the community, supporting fishing, loading, and unloading at the water hyacinth farms and markets. This iterative approach allows the community to expand and adapt its infrastructure without relying on external capital or imported knowledge.

Ultimately, the project is an act of cultural amplification rather than intervention. By building on existing techniques, practices, and rituals in Benin, the proposal ensures that the architecture remains deeply connected to everyday life. This is not a project about introducing foreign ideologies or grand architectural gestures, but about nurturing the continuity of community-driven construction, preserving the close relationship between people, space, and daily rituals. This approach enables future expansions across Ganvie and the surrounding regions, reinforcing a self-sustaining model of space-making that is both resonant, resilient, and independent from external capital.