AA: How do you see traditional building techniques contributing to humanitarian architecture, particularly in empowering local communities, and how has your experience in Pakistan shaped this understanding?


YL: It’s extremely important. I feel there’s so much we can learn from tradition, especially in today’s world where resource limitations and climate change are major factors. When I look at how people built in the past, they somehow managed to do things that were right for the planet they didn’t harm it.


I’m a great believer in vernacular traditions, particularly, but I also draw upon many others. Whether it’s the form, the technique, or the way communities utilized their own capacities—through self-building, co-creation, and working together there’s so much wisdom there. When you build together, you develop a deeper understanding of people’s nature. There’s no point in imposing something on a community if it doesn’t resonate with their aspirations. It won’t help them flourish. There is much to learn from traditional techniques, and I’m constantly drawing upon them in my work.

AA: How can internationally operating NGOs better enhance the process of engaging with local communities in the context of humanitarian architecture and development work?YL: I think we really have to rethink the way we assist. What I call the international colonial charity model doesn’t work and frankly, it never really did. I’ve been observing it closely since 2005, when the cluster system was devised by the UN agencies, and I’ve seen the gaps in it.


First of all, it turns people into dependents, into beggars forced to stand in line for handouts. And these handouts are terrible they demean people, strip away their dignity, and erode their integrity. Over time, people lose their self-respect.And that, to me, is one of the greatest failures of the traditional humanitarian model.AA: How do you think movement and changing environments influence the way we reflect on humanitarian work and community engagement?


YL: I think we’ve hurt people too much through the traditional charity model. I find it very difficult now when you try to provide help, everybody expects a handout. That expectation means people have lost some of their own initiative to do things. But I don’t believe that displacement means disability. Displaced people are perfectly capable, and I’ve seen that firsthand.

When you recognize their capacity, they can achieve much more—and in a much more sustainable way than anything the charity model can offer. So, I would really like to see the end of the traditional charity approach altogether.


AA: Can you discuss a project where the Heritage Foundation’s approach helped bridge the gap between top-down humanitarian efforts and grassroots needs? Have you recently revisited any methodologies that shifted your thinking on how to balance these dynamics?



YL: I call it humanistic humanitarianism. It’s very different it’s about sharing knowledge with people and helping them realize their own capacities. And when they do, they achieve phenomenal things. It’s not just about building houses. It’s always about building lives. When you go into an area that’s been devastated especially in countries like Pakistan and many others that experience repeated disasters you find that people have lost everything.

And just when they are starting to pull themselves together, another disaster strikes. The vulnerabilities keep increasing, and every time it becomes much worse. So it’s really about giving people hope, and equipping them with the knowledge, skills, and capacity to rebuild their own lives. We’ve done it, and I’ll be presenting that tomorrow. My focus will be on showing how it can be done very literally, without any significant amount of money.


AA: What are the primary challenges you've faced in integrating sustainable, low-cost materials into disaster relief housing projects?


YL: The thing is, in countries like mine—and many others like Pakistan there is very little respect for the poor. They are often treated as if they are nothing, as if they know nothing. There’s a lot of tyranny in the way they are treated, especially women, who are extremely downtrodden in our society. My effort is to find different ways to give people hope and determination—to help them take things into their own hands. It has to be community-driven; otherwise, it’s impossible to truly help people who are in such a vulnerable state. That’s the foundation of our work. I believe strongly in a peer-to-peer model—a bottom-up approach, not top-down.


Our motto is: Zero Carbon, Zero Waste, Zero Charity—which leads to Zero Poverty. And I’m very optimistic. By next year, maybe by midyear, we may reach 1 million families about 7 to 8 million people brought above the poverty line, without needing huge amounts of money.



AA: How do you balance the preservation of cultural heritage, including indigenous building practices, with the urgency and demands of humanitarian needs in your architectural projects, especially within aid frameworks?


YL: Well, I think today we have to look at conservation and safeguarding of heritage using low-carbon techniques. I’ve found that my work in the humanitarian field has actually helped me conserve important, high cultural value historic structures. For example, the work I developed with bamboo for the poor enabled us to restore three domes of a 16th-century monument in the World Heritage site of Makli.

Bamboo imposes no weight on the structure’s very light and reversible, and it carries enormous value. Yet, people rarely use these kinds of materials in conservation, even though they could. That’s something I’ve learned from humanitarian work: materials like bamboo are incredibly useful for conservation. Similarly, for stabilizing masonry, I’ve found that mud brick works extremely well and it’s a technique that can be carried out by the communities themselves, including those who are among the most vulnerable.

AA: When you initiate a project, how do you envision the balance between your role as the architect and the community’s role in long-term maintenance and stewardship and how do you navigate coordination between government agencies and local communities in that process?



YL: Yeah, well, of course, it’s a very difficult thing. It's always tough because nobody really has a vision or fully understands what you're trying to do. There was a lot of opposition.


For example, the Dance Hall Street was really tough. I faced demonstrations against me. There were even threats from people saying they would come and throw stones at my house. A lot of that happened because some people didn’t want vehicle traffic to be stopped; they didn’t want the area to become pedestrianized. It was very difficult. But once the paving started you saw the paving that was done at Atta—they suddenly changed their minds. When the facades were cleaned, the overhead cables removed, and people finally saw the beauty of the historic buildings, they realized the value of what was there. From there, a real spirit of cooperation developed. Now, the shopkeepers take care of the trees and the planting themselves. They keep replanting and maintaining the streetscape. A sense of ownership is finally developing in a city like Karachi. I don't know if you know much about my city, but it’s often called "the orphan city" because nobody really seems to care about it.


But now, through small pockets of change, people are starting to have a stake. If I can keep developing my Eco-Streets one at a time, I hope that eventually, the people will fully take over. Because frankly, with governments whether here or elsewhere there's not much hope. They're largely ineffective, uncaring, or corrupt. So I believe real change has to come from the people themselves.


AA : Do you intentionally use locally salvaged or repurposed materials in all your projects, and how does this approach influence the relationship between the built environment and its surrounding context?


YL: You know, today there are a lot of movements around degrowth, circularity, and discussions about how we should focus on repurposing rather than rebuilding. Climate emissions are a major factor. Construction alone accounts for something like 40% of global emissions, largely because of the way we build.

As built environment professionals, we carry a huge responsibility to find ways to curtail material use and carbon emissions. Unless we seriously reduce emissions, there’s no way we’ll reach a net zero carbon situation by 2050, even though many countries have signed on as signatories to that goal. At every level, we must stop emitting carbon and architects can play a crucial role. I don't think we fully realize the extent of the damage we are causing, not just here, but all over the world.

I focus on working with the poor and believe very strongly in the power of communities. I’m finding the support needed to carry this work forward and truly, it can happen anywhere.