Profession: Student
City: London
Country: United Kingdom

What inspired you to want a life in Architecture and the creative industries?:
It’s all around us. As a child, I never consciously noticed architecture—I simply moved through it. I weaved in and out of metal-framed doors in Thailand, stepping onto cool marble floors to escape the heat. My hands traced the rough texture of popcorn walls simply because I liked the way they felt.

I didn’t realise then how deeply spaces shape us. Now, as a Moroccan-Thai poet, artist, and aspiring architect, I reflect on the contrast between my homeland’s architecture and the lack of a truly multidisciplinary approach in design. I was drawn to architecture because of its power to influence people’s lives, but also because of its failures—its disparities. I described an idealistic memory of my home in Chonburi, Thailand, yet in reality, its infrastructure is barely livable. My grandparents’ house in Morocco has cracks wide enough to fit a finger through, and my family’s social housing flat in Tower Hamlets has a leak in the ceiling the council promised to fix years ago. These places are all home to me. But home is what we make of it.

I believe in a bottom-up approach to architecture, one that acknowledges that designers don’t have all the answers—communities do. My work is centred around engagement and co-design. As an Equity Designer, I worked with young women in South London on the redevelopment of Crystal Palace National Sports Centre, ensuring it was more accessible for underrepresented groups. Now, as an Architectural Engagement Consultant at The Den, I help facilitate community workshops and develop architectural plans for a new youth space in North London.

Architecture surrounds us. So it should serve us.

Who inspired you in finding your path to Architecture/Film and the creative industries?:
Neil Onions. At 17, I took part in The People’s Pavilion, a competition that changed everything for me. Our Tower Hamlets team won, and our design was built in real life—a moment that gave me the confidence to fully pursue architecture.

The experience was more than just seeing our ideas materialise. The opening ceremony was followed by a festival, where I was exposed to creative producers, filmmakers, artists, and designers, all collaborating with architecture. It was the first time I saw architecture as something that could be truly multidisciplinary, community-led, and alive.

That moment still shapes the way I approach design. It led me to my current work with the V&A on a project related to Robin Hood Gardens Estate, where I created an oil painting and an accompanying poem, The Grid.

How you unlock obstacles and overcome bias in your work?:
By talking to people. Not just in conversation, but in actively listening—seeking perspectives that challenge my own. It’s easy to get caught up in personal interests when designing, but the real question is: Who is this project for? What do they need? Much of my work is community-focused, so staying accountable to the people I design for is essential.

For example, in a university project, I struggled to focus my design. Instead of forcing an idea onto the context, I created an engagement board and placed it on-site, allowing residents to write directly on it. This gave me a real understanding of what the community wanted and needed, rather than assuming I already had the answers.The best way to challenge bias? Go back to the source.

What improvements do you feel are required to promote effective change in the academic and working environment?:
Architecture needs to be more people-centric. Too often, the profession is concerned with the image of the architect rather than the people it serves. It’s exclusive, hierarchical, and disconnected from the communities it should be helping.

One way I’m challenging this is through a project I spearhead called The Blocks Workshop. This initiative helps young East Londoners take pride in their neighbourhoods through material reuse. Participants collect discarded materials—what some might call rubbish—from their surroundings, which are then used to create handmade clay blocks. It’s a play on words—they are literally and symbolically rebuilding “the block.”

I believe HomeGrown Plus aligns with these values, and I would love to contribute to this community. I want to be part of the movement that makes architecture more inclusive, more accessible, and more meaningful.