BE INSPIRED | FEATURE 04 sam elbahja
- Johannah Fening-Ajakaiye
- Jun 19
- 6 min read
It’s feature number four and we are joined by multidisciplinary designer and poet, Sam Elbahja. In this feature we discuss the unique blend of architecture and poetry that Sam explores, her journey at Cambridge University, her exciting projects she is working on and more! Can you share a bit about yourself?
My name is Sam Elbahja, and I’m a Moroccan-Thai poet and architecture student. I grew up in East London, also known as the ‘Ends’. I really love the area I grew up in – it has influenced who I am as a creative. I'm currently in my final undergraduate year studying architecture at The University of Cambridge. I would describe myself as a multidisciplinary designer. I do a lot of things, and people know me for different things, but never just one. I dabble in a lot of creative fields such as poetry and writing, and I’m always trying to find ways to merge them seamlessly.
Your journey blends poetry, storytelling, and architecture. How did you discover this unique
intersection?
I think it was mainly because it's my creative medium. In architecture school, you typically think visually through drawings and illustrations. I do that too, but I also think through words – which can be difficult to explain. I tend to think about spaces in terms of how they make us feel and then work that into the design brief.
When you first started merging poetry and architecture, you faced some resistance. What kept you going?
The belief in my work. It was difficult at the beginning because I had done poetry and architecture separately. Understanding how I could merge the two was difficult, initially.
When I first presented my poetry alongside my architectural work during a crit, my tutor at the time, commented about everything excluding my poetry and said, “let's focus on the architecture,” as if it were a separate entity. But I’ve always believed that poetry can be useful in breaking down the academic jargon that often alienates people from design. Accessibility has been something I’ve championed since the beginning of my architectural education.
My dissertation is titled The Mandem Builds Ends – is all about how people influence architecture and how that makes it more accessible. That idea of accessibility has grown with me.
As a Moroccan-Thai creative, how have your cultural influences shaped your work?
It’s shaped a lot of my ideas, my belonging and my community. Growing up dual heritage, there was always a dichotomy. Everywhere I went, I was a minority, and people would ask questions like “Where are you really from?” or “Which side do you prefer?” As a child, it felt like choosing between mum and dad. My culture has shaped my worldview and made me more critical of culturally informed architecture. I feel blessed to come from two beautiful backgrounds. There’s beauty in that difference, and I find it very empowering.
How did you push through feeling out of place in certain academic spaces?
By remembering where I came from. As I said, I grew up in East London and I love it. But there’s a trope that you don’t often get opportunities. I went to a state school, and you need a lot of drive and self-motivation. Of course, some brilliant teachers help, but they’re rare. So when opportunities do come, you take them with open arms. When I got into Cambridge, it felt like a dream – and once I was there, I kept wondering when I’d wake up. Even though I got into Cambridge, I knew that it didn’t have to be my greatest achievement – just a stepping stone. I always remind myself that I’m bigger than this institution. Believing that success is
who you are, not where you go.
Do you think language can break down barriers in architectural discourse? If so, how?
Definitely. Poetry is a beautiful form of translation. It can turn technical jargon into something that we can understand, whether that's through a metaphor or simile. Architecture is a language in itself –with words like ‘charette’ or ‘façade’. If you weren't in the profession or weren't studying it, you may not have a clue what they mean. Since architecture is
ultimately about people, shouldn’t the public be able to understand what we’re saying?
Overall, I think language can be a huge barrier or it can be an amazing tool for communication. It has a dual function in that way.
How do you navigate balancing creative expression with the technical and practical aspects of architecture?
I see them as working in tandem – and that really helps when narrowing down a brief. It helps you figure out exactly what’s needed. Do you need an arch? A sliding door? A huge tunnel? Is it fit for purpose? All these things help you to make design decisions. I'm a firm believer that creative expression and technical aspects should never be seen as separate. Architecture is multidisciplinary. We engage with engineering, environmental aspects, history, theory and art throughout architecture. Seeing them as separate entities puts us in danger of generalising architecture.
What advice would you give to students whose work doesn’t fit the ‘traditional’ architecture
mould?
I’d say they’re doing something right! Architecture is ever-changing, so don’t try to fit a mould – just be yourself. That’s easier said than done, of course. But find a tutor or mentor you trust. Not someone who always agrees with you, but someone who can look at your work objectively and say, “This is good” or “you can expand here” If you have faith and belief in your work, then you should feel confident enough to share it with others.
If you could reform the way architecture is taught or practised, what would you change?
I’d teach it more as a multidisciplinary subject – integrating animation, art skills, history, and even poetry. Architecture isn’t just drawing and physics. I did a lot of work experience outside of university that allowed me to see how the profession is. One was my Equity Design role with Beyond the Box CIC, where we helped redesign the Crystal Palace National Sports Centre track space. I worked with young South London girls to talk, and literally ran the track with them and asked them what they thought about the space. I brought those lessons into my degree. Too often, tutors give you a brief and leave you to figure it out. They don’t teach you the range of approaches you could take – and that’s a big gap in architectural education.
If you could give younger Sam one piece of advice, what would it be?
Keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll face adversity later – and that’s okay. It means you’re on the right path. Your work will gain traction, and you’ll become a trailblazer in your own right. It’ll be difficult at first because you’re paving your own way, but that’s not a bad thing. It doesn’t mean you won’t succeed. You won’t believe the heights you will achieve, from having your artwork exhibited at the V&A, to being a self-published poet and a Cambridge Robert Rees Prize Recipient. Sam, you are going to go so far.
How do you envision your future in the industry?
I’d love to be a practising architect with a focus on engagement – that’s something I’ve been working towards. I’ve done a lot of research to see whether there are architectural roles that specialise in engagement – not as separate engagement officers, but as integrated parts of the role. When applying for jobs, I also highlight my writing skills – even offering to be an in-house writer. So when I say architecture should be multidisciplinary, I mean that in both education and in practice.
What’s next for you?
I’ve got a book coming out! In two days (at the time of this interview), I’ll be a self-published author of my poetry anthology, Naked Pen. And by the time you read this, my book will be available to purchase! It’s something I’ve been working on for a long time – a dream since childhood. I’m also working with a talented videographer on a short film in tandem with the book launch, focusing on pursuing your passions and never putting them on the backburner. Being a self-published author is one of my greatest successes by far, but not for the reasons you think, though it would be great to be a worldwide selling author – the book embodies the respect I had for young Sam to follow her dreams. And this summer (2025), I’m heading the Pavilion team at The University of Cambridge, leading the design and construction of a pavilion centred on the theme of legacy. It’ll be surrounded by people’s stories and oral histories.
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