When I set up bambouorile.site in April, it was meant to be a low-tech test for a podcast I had been imagining—The Bamboo Urbanist. The blog would let me explore ideas, refine themes, and see whether there was enough substance to carry a series of conversations in audio form.

Five months and nineteen posts later, the podcast remains on the horizon—without a fixed date and with no guarantee it will materialise. Producing one takes time, resources, and consistent energy, none of which I can commit to right now. What began as a “tester” has become the project itself. And to my surprise, I’m enjoying the journey far more than expected.


Along the way, the blog has become a way to integrate insights from formal learning and design practice. TU Delft courses on Sustainable Urban Development and Urban Design for the Public Good: Dutch Urbanism, along with the UrbanShift/UNEP course in Integrated Urban Planning, gave me frameworks to think systematically about cities and climate resilience.

Design primers and approaches from David Sim, Jan Gehl, Leon Krier, Francis Ching, and Francis Kéré have shaped the way I approach writing and analysis:


The blog’s weekly rhythm lets me explore ideas, share research, and combine formal study with real-world observation. Instead of waiting for microphones and editing software, I can put thoughts directly into words, creating a record of reflections, experiments, and insights that may one day inform a podcast.

Looking back, there have been some clear breakthroughs along the way: understanding how sponge-city principles translate to West African climates, discovering how simple innovations like honeycomb or interlocking bricks can reduce heat and increase resilience, and seeing how stronger urban codes can literally reshape streets, markets, and public spaces. Each post has clarified not only what works, but why—how architecture, materials, and planning intersect with social and environmental outcomes.


For now, the blog is enough. It keeps the questions alive, invites conversation, and steadily grows into an archive of what matters most: how cities can be more resilient, humane, and dignified.

Sometimes what starts as a stepping-stone becomes a destination worth staying with.

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