In the dense and tangled heart of Dhaka, where narrow lanes weave together centuries of lived experience, this project began with a simple yet pressing question: how can housing respond to life, rather than restrict it? This was not a question born of abstraction, but of urgency. Old Dhaka—one of the most densely populated urban areas in the world—is under immense pressure. Its spatial fabric, once finely attuned to communal life and climatic conditions, is now increasingly strained by speculative development, infrastructural degradation, and widening social inequalities.
Within this historic context, the neighbourhood of Bongshal became the site of inquiry. Characterised by staggering population density and closely interwoven social rhythms, Bongshal presents both a profound challenge and a rare opportunity. Here, life unfolds in extreme proximity: shops spill into alleyways, stories travel between windows, and multiple generations share compact domestic spaces. Yet these same conditions also give rise to acute congestion, fragmented landholdings, and a pattern of unregulated vertical growth. In response, government authorities have promoted block development as a technical remedy. However, these top-down strategies—framed by rigid regulations and driven by developer interests—have often proven culturally misaligned and practically ineffective.
This project sought a different path: Co‑Design, a participatory, research-led design process. Rather than imposing solutions from above, the process began with deep engagement—fieldwork consisting of surveys, interviews, and collaborative workshops with residents. Through these encounters, it became evident that the issues facing Bongshal were not merely infrastructural or spatial. The deeper problem lay in how conventional planning frameworks ignored the intricate social relations, informal negotiations, and everyday rituals that animate Old Dhaka’s urban life. One of the most critical insights therefore to emerge from this process was that formal interventions alone cannot resolve informal realities. The community in Bongshal demonstrates a deep attachment to place and a profound sensitivity to externally driven change. Real estate developers, whose business models rely on securing majoritarian buy-in, are often met with resistance. For the residents—many of whom have inhabited this neighbourhood for generations—development is not simply a transaction. It is a question of autonomy, memory, and belonging. They seek not just compensation, but a genuine role in shaping the future of their environment. As such, any meaningful architectural intervention must align with, rather than override, the cultural and social rhythms already embedded in the neighbourhood.
Instead of opposing these dynamics, the project chose to work within them. It recalibrated building regulations and Floor Area Ratio (FAR) allowances to strike a balance between development feasibility and community acceptance. Drawing from the principles of incremental housing and architectural indeterminacy, the design embraced a “loose-fit” spatial logic—one that offers a coherent framework while remaining open to variation, adaptation, and change over time.
Initial stages of surveys revealed Old Dhaka’s iconic lanes as an important space within the existing context. Lanes here are not just thoroughfares—they are arenas of interaction, care, and daily improvisation. In homes where women remain largely indoors, where children lack designated play areas, and where elders hold presence through constancy, these narrow spaces support a rich social ecology. Conversations echo from kitchen windows, advice flows across thresholds, and political debates take shape in shared passageways. These practices are not incidental; they are the scaffolding of community.
As our design proposes a high-rise structure, the corridor becomes central to the concept of the project. What if the corridor becomes vertical translation of the iconic lanes of Old Dhaka? Traditionally overlooked as residual circulation space in typical housing by private developers, the corridor was reimagined as a vital element of shared life—structurally repeatable, yet socially adaptive. It became the hinge between public and private, movement and pause, form and interaction. Through this lens, the corridor is no longer a neutral passage, but an active mediator of relationships, enabling coexistence and mutual care within a dense urban setting. The design positions the corridor as a communal spine within the domestic realm—facilitating visibility without intrusion, care without surveillance, and togetherness without collapse. Architectural elements such as widened widths, integrated seating, visual transparency between units, and additional stairways were introduced to animate the corridor as a space of interaction. In this spatial rethinking, the corridor is no longer merely a route between rooms but becomes the connective tissue of shared life—where domestic labour is visible, kinship extends beyond blood, and memory finds form in architecture.
Ultimately, the project offers a prototype for socially and culturally grounded regeneration in Old Dhaka. Formulated through listening to residents, the design prioritizes co-designing spaces, and adapting codes—aim to improve livability without displacing the very identities that make Old Dhaka unique. It is a modest yet radical proposition: that the future of housing in dense urban contexts lies not in technocratic solutions or global aesthetics, but in carefully attuned, community-driven architectures of care. If scaled and supported, this participatory block development model may indeed catalyse a broader transformation—turning Old Dhaka from a congested relic into a resilient urban neighbourhood, where tradition and transformation coexist in the shared space of everyday life.
The proposal consolidates two adjacent private plots into a shared development of 2,528 square metres, housing 112 residential units, 20 shops, and basement godowns. Crucially, it achieves this without resorting to anonymous high-rise typologies or the displacement of existing residents. Instead, it embraces mixed-use ground floors, tenant-driven models, and future adaptability—mirroring the economic hybridity and social logic of the neighbourhood itself.
Communal spaces echo the thresholds and shaded margins of Old Dhaka’s lanes, creating pockets for gathering, drying clothes, or pausing between errands. Climate responsiveness is embedded into the design—not as an afterthought, but as a continuation of vernacular knowledge. Corridors, balconies, and shared terraces act as thermal buffers; layouts maximise cross-ventilation; and visual motifs such as Jaali (perforated screens) and iron railings are reinterpreted through a minimal, locally resonant material palette. These features perform environmentally, while also anchoring the architecture within the visual language of its context.