Bangladesh has experienced incredible changes within my lifetime. I witnessed the birth of our nation in the 1970s, and from that point onward, it has faced numerous challenges. The Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971 resulted in the killing of hundreds of intellectuals. After the war ended, the country experienced internal power struggles for two decades. Bangladesh endured periods of autocratic rule, and economic development progressed slowly. It was not until the late 1990s that the country began to transition towards democracy.

Bangladesh had been an agricultural economy for many years, but as the open market economy took hold, we experienced a boom in the garment industry. Villagers were attracted to cities with stories of success, leading to extensive urban migration from the. countryside that continues to this day. From what I’ve seen, this has not led to any improvement in human living: conditions. Industrial development has only intensified socio-economic inequalities

In addition to socio-economic challenges, the country also faces significant environmental threats due to its geographic location, in the world’s largest and most populous delta. The effects of climate change on its hydrological system have caused massive displacement which is exacerbated by people’s lack of land rights.

Informal settlements in Bangladesh highlight the systemic failures in urban planning and governance around these complex dynamics. These settlements underscore the urgent need for innovative architectural responses. Blaming residents of informal settlements for building them illegally overlooks the underlying causes — a lack of viable housing options and inadequate urban infrastructure. Architects can play a pivotal role in advocating for inclusive urban development strategies that prioritise the needs of marginalised communities.

These are difficult but crucial issues for architects to engage with. Architecture itself is a relatively young profession in Bangladesh. The first school of architecture was only established in the 1960s. . Now, after several decades, architects can claim they have established a foundation for the profession. Today, architects mainly serve a limited portion of the population with traditional services, such as designing private homes, interiors and renovations. At the same time, the economic landscape is marked by widening disparities both within cities and in peripheral areas. Architects must adapt their role and innovate to address broader societal challenges.

The limited role of architects has troubled me from the moment I began practicing. Architects must take on roles that are more proactive and visionary. They need to be keen observers and critical thinkers, understanding the broader socio-economic and environmental contexts in which they operate. It is not sufficient to wait for clients to pursue architects with dream projects; architects must engage proactively with communities and stakeholders, offering their knowledge and services to improve living environments and promote inclusive design.

Innovation in architectural practice is crucial. It goes beyond creating aesthetically pleasing structures; it involves offering solutions that address pressing societal needs. This shift demands architects envision projects that serve the greater good, ensuring people's right to good design and a good living environment.

Architects need to expand their roles to encompass work beyond traditional practice. To address the pressing challenges of our time, research plays a pivotal role. It allows us to delve into issues overlooked in conventional architecture, providing a deep understanding of local demographics and needs. Being on the ground and engaging directly with communities enhances our ability to respond effectively and precisely.

I teach a global housing studio at the Delft University of Technology in the Netherlands focusing on low-income housing often looking into informal sectors in Bangladesh. Our work has been about finding a balance and creating a more inclusive approach to housing, rather than viewing informality as a separate entity. Bangladesh's capital Dhaka is dominated by real estate speculation. Its development is based on a plot-based system, with small plots of individual land ownership. Due to inheritance laws, landowners often cannot divide their land further and must build upwards, requiring investment many can't afford. This has led to agreements between developers and landowners, where developers supply the capital to develop a site in return for a percentage of the completed apartments. This model has become the norm in Dhaka and has resulted mostly in developments that cater to high-end and upper-middle-income families. Consequently, there is a significant lack of housing for lower-income and middle-income families. While recently there has been more attention paid to middle-income housing, the lower-income sector remains largely neglected.

In response, we advocate for the integration of lower-income housing within new developments to make them more inclusive. Working with policymakers is crucial and our research aims to influence policy so that a certain percentage of housing is designated for lower-income families. People in the informal sector, ironically, pay the highest rents in the city. A single room rents at $80 a month, which is a significant burden for families in Bangladesh, considering many earn only around $150 per month. This leaves them with very little to survive on.

To confront these disparities, we are developing new types of projects that involve renting land in locations where high land costs make ownership prohibitive. The idea is to lease a site for ten to twenty years and construct housing there. Eventually, the landowner could choose to purchase the hose, or we could negotiate an extended rental agreement when the initial lease period ends. We're exploring various models like this-to find solutions that improve living conditions and adapt to the complexities of urban environments. Trying out different financial approaches is crucial in this endeavour.

For us, funding research projects independently and surviving as a practice is very challenging, so we need to collaborate with non-governmental organisations or donor agencies to secure funding. This can come from research grants or implementation grants. However, raising this funding is also challenging. As architects, we are not trained to write grants or to produce financial aid and operational reports. This is entirely new territory for us. Nonetheless, it’s crucial to navigate these challenges to ensure that our research and ideas have a meaningful impact.

This is why we at Marina Tabassum Architects created the Foundation for Architecture and Community Equity (F.A.C.E), which functions as a completely different entity from the architectural practice. The architecture office is responsible for research and design, while the implementation side of projects is handled by the foundation, a nonprofit through which we apply for grant funding. To implement projects, we partner with other NGOs and work together with them.

How you structure your practice depends on your location, the issues you are dealing with and the people you are working with. Your target group, the beneficiaries or those you want to serve all influence the creation of a practice that is much more contextual rather than something generic. We have to innovate new ways of practice, and there is no given formula for that.

The concept of plugin architecture is an interesting and innovative idea that exemplifies this approach. Architects have always been trained to design for permanence. We've been taught to aspire to create enduring buildings like museums that remain after we are gone, serving as a testament to our great architecture. However, I think our time requires something completely different. A Plugin House may not exist in twenty or thirty years, just as the Khudi Bari (Tiny House) I've designed doesn't have to last for hundreds of years. Both are about the ability to adapt to changing circumstances and addressing pressing and relevant issues of our time.

In this context, the Plugin House is a wonderful idea because it makes it possible for people to remain in their communities while improving their living conditions by accommodating the specific context. This approach does not erase their existing way of life but enhances it.

The Khudi Bari is a building system we developed akin to the Plugin House. It is a low-tech system that people can easily build themselves, consisting of a basic structure that uses locally available materials. It was crucial for us that occupiers could construct, dismantle and relocate it as needed. As a modular system, it can also expand; scaling it up allows it to transform it to a school or community space. It resembles a Buckminster Fuller Dome in its space-frame-like form.

In our case, land rights are a significant issue. Where we build, there is often no formal land ownership. Mobility becomes crucial because people might have to move if they cannot remain on the land. This is especially true in certain areas we work in, like the middle of rivers, where people live temporarily on newly formed sand beds. Instead of moving to cities, they’re living off the land.

These sand beds are only stable for about eight to ten years, so people live there for that period. There is no regulatory structure; it's more about the ecology of the place where they’re Iiving and its natural system. After about ten years, the government and policies start to take shape. Because many residents don't have rights, it's challenging for them to remain. Under these conditions people also choose to move from the countryside to the city. The Khudi Bari would allow residents to bring their home with them.

Our construction process is adapted to remote areas where basic infrastructure like electricity and roads is absent. Parts are pre-fabricated on the mainland where access to power tools like saws and drills needed for bamboo cutting and assembly is available. We first assemble the structure on the mainland, then disassemble it for transport by boat to the sand beds. From there, carts pulled by cows or horses transport the parts to the building site. This modular approach also simplifies disassembly for potential relocation. By removing the roof and flooring, it's even possible to lift and move the lightweight structure as a whole, much like moving furniture.

For us, it's crucial that our proposals are not imposed on people. From the outset, our concern has been that any project must be embraced by the community. They must willingly accept the idea and be eager to live in it for the project to succeed. Otherwise, it risks becoming just another short-lived experiment that fades away, and that's not our goal. We want this initiative to endure and become a genuine solution to a real problem. We avoid imposing specific materials; instead, the structure is designed to accommodate whatever the homeowners prefer, whether salvaged corrugated metal sheets, bamboo, or other locally available materials. As long as the structure is solid and temporary, homeowners can continuously build upon and extend it, customising their facades according to their needs and preferences.

We ensure the community is intimately involved through the entire process. This inclusive approach ensures that everyone feels a part of the-project, fostering a sense of ownership and commitment. We encourage homeowners to participate in building the Khudi Bari, starting from the foundation, in collaboration with our team.

In many locations, homes are threatened by river-bank erosion. These can be sand beds that are constantly changing in shape and size. The placement of Khudi Bari structures are decided by the community, based on the anticipated direction of land erosion. While our influence is limited, we assist in refining layouts. The two-story Khudi Bari design allows residents to relocate to upper floors during floods, and if necessary, disassemble and move the entire structure to a different location.

When we started with the idea of the Khudi Bari we weren't sure if people would accept it, therefore the process was crucial. We chose locations where NGOs were already present and providing assistance with livelihood related to challenges such as mark,et linkage, farming, crafting, or tourism. These NGOs have established trust within the communities, which gave us a foundation to build upon. We didn't want to start from scratch; we aimed to test our housing concept in places with existing community support. The initial Khudi Baris allowed communities to see the difference between their fragile structures and the sturdiness of our design. This sparked interest and acceptance. Adapting to these demands requires continuous innovation in practice. There's no one-size-fits-all approach; each context and stakeholder group necessitate a tailored approach. By involving the community in every step, from site selection to construction, we ensured a more inclusive and accepted process.

We now know there is a proven need for this housing. People have accepted it, and the houses have survived through two cycles of various weather, including thunderstorms and flooding. Local communities have embraced the houses, making modifications like adding rooms or extending kitchens. Since there is a need, we aim to create an ecosystem where houses can be built without our direct presence. Up until now, we've been in a research phase, keeping the fabrication of our steel components centralised in the city of Dhaka. We work with a few workshops to manufacture parts and send them to building sites. But now, we are considering larger-scale production of this system and how to train local workshops. Our focus is on creating an infrastructure and a network of local suppliers, builders, and communities in the areas where we have already built Khudi Baris.

This approach becomes more like an intervention into the vernacular architecture. The houses blend in with the local style once the structure is covered, looking like regular homes with two levels. The key difference is the robust structural system that can withstand high winds better than traditional vernacular houses.

Creating an ecology where local suppliers, builders, and steel workshops have the capacity to build and supply these houses locally will also reduce costs. Currently, each house costs about $500, including transportation and on-site support. By localising production and training builders, we can significantly reduce these costs. The structural system is simple enough that a carpenter can construct it with minimal help from the community.

Building this ecological framework entails more than physical construction; it involves nurturing a network of stakeholders capable of sustaining the initiative independently. This includes local suppliers, builders, and community members who can continue building and modifying houses without our direct involvement. By fostering this ecosystem, we aim to create lasting impact and empower communities to address their housing needs autonomously.

Bio

Marina Tabassum is a Bangladeshi architect and educator, who founded Marina Tabassum Architects in Dhaka in 2005. Her work emphasises a contemporary architectural language rooted in climate, context, culture, and history. Notable projects include the Bait Ur Rouf Jame Mosque, known for its minimalist design and multifunctional space; most recently MTA also designed the prestigious Serpentine Pavilion in 2025. Tabassum is a Professor at Delft University of Technology and has taught at several prestigious institutions. She has received numerous accolades, including the Aga Khan Award for Architecture and the Soane Medal. She chairs the Foundation for Architecture and Community Equity (F.A.C.E) and is a fellow of the Royal Society of Arts (RSA).

Book

Presented by the international architecture studio People’s Architecture Office, Plugin House: Modern Prefab Architecture (Thames & Hudson, 2026) presents innovative, sustainable, and community-­driven solutions to the global housing crisis. Challenging conventional architectural practices, the book champions the prefabricated house as an affordable and practical way to address homelessness, housing scarcity, or gentrification. The book presents a diverse array of Plugin House projects by international architecture studio People’s Architecture Office (PAO). Personal stories, as mini graphic novels, shed light on barriers to accessible housing and potential ways to overcome them. Essays address varied aspects of the housing crisis and are interspersed with contributions from leading figures in the world of art and architecture.