Founded by Senegalese architect Nzinga Mboup and French architect Nicolas Rondet, Worofila is a studio dedicated to bioclimatic and ecological architecture. Based in Dakar, Senegal, the firm explores the potential of vernacular materials like earth bricks and typha, applying modern techniques to create effective construction solutions. Their work addresses key issues of the environment, sustainability, and urbanization, merging traditional materials with innovative practices.
In this interview, Nzinga and Nicolas share their vision for a distinctly African modernity that integrates contemporary methods with traditional knowledge and resources. They advocate for a development approach that not only meets immediate needs but also empowers communities and fosters meaningful, long-term progress. Their insights provide a compelling perspective on how architecture can drive a more sustainable and contextually relevant future for African cities.
Romullo Baratto: Nzinga, you're originally from Senegal, studied in South Africa and the UK, and worked in both London and Dakar. Nicolas, you're from France and worked in Paris before moving to Senegal. How did the two of you meet? Could you tell us about the beginnings of Worofila?
Nicolas Rondet: I was in Dakar for two weeks when I met someone who later became a friend. He knew many interesting people, and Nzinga was one of them. We shared the same motivations and goals, and we were both at similar stages in our personal lives.
Nzinga Mboup: I had just returned from London, where I'd been working for AJ Associates for three years before moving to Senegal. The last project I worked on there was for a World Bank agency in Dakar — a project that used compressed blocks as infill on the facade. I traveled back and forth quite a bit, so during the last year before my move, I was frequently in Senegal to coordinate with local stakeholders. One of these stakeholders was a friend who also happened to manufacture those bricks. When I visited his factory, I was amazed by what I saw.
I told him it would be fantastic to have a collective of architects experimenting with these bricks, really showcasing what could be achieved with them. He replied that he already knew a few architects and was trying to set something up. Later, when I came back to work on a project for my parents, I needed office space. He mentioned he had an open office in Dakar and said that some architects met there on Tuesday nights. He offered to introduce me to them, and that's how I met Nicolas.
RB: So, it all came together quite organically, almost naturally, for you.
NM: Yes, exactly. The timing was perfect. We started working together, and then we were shortlisted for a competition organized by the government. Nicolas and I were the ones with the most availability, so we ended up working closely together, developing the project with input from the rest of the team.
The brief was to design a building for the Ministry of Environment using bio- and geo-sourced materials. In our case, it was mostly earth and typha. We collaborated with a landscape architect, which was a significant part of the project. We also needed to perform thermal simulations to demonstrate that our design would work effectively. This required working closely with a thermal engineer to understand how our design choices impacted passive strategies and ensured natural thermal comfort.
NR: That's when the "dream team" was born. We worked so much together on this project — it was a great starting point. It was also fun because we had both just arrived in Dakar.
RB: Your website mentions that the name "Worofila" comes from the street you're based on in Dakar, reflecting your respect for the context. What does the word "context" mean to you?
NR: Everything! Would you like to start, Nzinga?
NM: We wanted the name to reflect our commitment to being rooted in the local context, but also to convey a sensibility that fits where we are. We come from diverse backgrounds. At the beginning, there were six of us from different countries, so it was really important to find a name that could ground us in the place where we operate.
I didn't even know we were on Worofila Street at first. It was Nicolas who pointed that out. So, even though it's a fairly ordinary name, it's deeply tied to the place where we first came together — a place with a unique history that enabled our existence. Being rooted in this place makes us feel like part of the community. It's comforting, reassuring, and ultimately empowering.
NR: The context is also fundamental to how we approach architecture, how we think about the city, and how we work. When I say it means everything, it's because context shapes the project from the very beginning — it's integral to our design process and also to how people will eventually inhabit the space.
Context can refer to the plot, the elements you find on the site where you build, but it also represents our surroundings, what we want to evoke, and what we aim to design. In this sense, context is a way of thinking, a way of building. It involves using local materials, local knowledge, and local craftsmanship — all of these are tools for creating our projects. That's why context is so important to us. We're not trying to invent something new; we want to stay grounded, working with reality.
RB: What led you to work with raw earth and typha?
NR: From the beginning, Worofila's main idea was to work with what already exists here. One of those resources is Elementerre, a local company producing earth bricks and beginning to experiment with typha.
Earth is the best local material for building structures, while typha is excellent for insulation. They're both perfectly suited to this climate, and they are completely natural and renewable. So, it was clear from the start that these would be our primary materials.
NM: There's an intuitive understanding that these are the right materials to use. They're indigenous, but their use has been somewhat forgotten, so we're trying to bring them back into focus with modern techniques.
RB: Are these experiments always in collaboration with Elementerre?
NM: Yes, in a way, they always are. Elementerre is really at the core of what we do, as they are both the supplier and manufacturer of these materials. With compressed earth blocks, there's also an element of security because they had already been in use for at least eight years before we started working with them, and they've undergone rigorous testing. So, we trust those specific bricks.
RB: Over the last few decades, the main materials used in construction in developing countries have been mostly concrete. Do you think earth blocks and typha could become the main building materials to address this housing deficit?
NM: In some ways, why not? It's a possibility. I think the question of "could" is different from "should," but it's interesting that you mention housing specifically. Of all the building types, housing is perhaps the one that most directly affects people's well-being. It's the primary space we inhabit.
There's an architect based in Dakar who conducted a study exploring different methodologies and toolkits for building housing that is better suited to its inhabitants. The study looked at various aspects of housing, not just the building envelope. It's quite unfortunate — and frankly, quite absurd — that we're producing housing units that are uncomfortable to live in.
The aspiration to use concrete as a symbol of modernity has led to a regression in good practices and, quite simply, in common sense. If you look at the history of architecture before air conditioning was invented, buildings were designed to be naturally comfortable without relying on energy.
We see this in pre-colonial and colonial architecture, where there were systems to encourage natural ventilation and strategies to protect against direct sunlight and heat buildup. However, with the advent of air conditioning, many of these effective practices were abandoned because it was assumed you could just turn on a machine to cool things down.
Unfortunately, this approach is not only energy-intensive but also unsustainable. Air conditioning uses gases that are harmful to the environment and isn't accessible to large parts of the population. It increases energy consumption, which isn't feasible or equitable. I think it's a very basic, common-sense idea that two things should happen:
Firstly, we should design with the climate in mind. We need to understand orientation, periods of insulation, roof insulation, and natural ventilation. In Senegal, particularly in Dakar, this approach can significantly reduce heat gain. Secondly, the materials we use also play a crucial role in regulating the building's internal environment. Earth walls, for example, provide thermal inertia, while typha on the roof offers insulation. These elements work together effectively.
So, in a way, we're returning to basics. We're not inventing anything new here. Even when we talk about typha, it's like thinking about thatched roofing, which has natural insulating properties. Traditional roofs that extended outwards to create verandas protected the walls from direct sunlight. Many of the techniques we're employing are not new inventions; they are part of the historical references of what has been built before.
I think it's time to pause and reconsider our approach to design, both in terms of the materials we use and the ways we build. We need to be more mindful to create a sustainable future, especially for housing. There's also the energy aspect to consider. Concrete is a high-energy, high-carbon material, and when we think about housing for people who are most vulnerable to the energy crisis and rising energy costs, it becomes clear that we all — especially those most affected — should benefit from adequate projects.
Housing should not rely on additional energy just to achieve basic comfort. That should be the minimum we aspire to.
RB: This alternative to concrete isn't just a material choice; it relates to the climate, ancient techniques being reinterpreted and reused in contemporary ways, and also to energy and carbon considerations. I find it fascinating to see architects like you addressing these "basics" with such a holistic view of architecture, society, and the well-being of inhabitants. It seems more sensible to invest resources in sustainable materials rather than in concrete, which is known to be inadequate for the future.
Regarding these materials, they have a strong connection to the place and the climate. Do you believe they can be adapted to other climates, or are they specifically suited to the Sahel, with its predominantly dry weather? Also, how do earth blocks perform over time? Do they maintain their properties well, or do they require frequent maintenance?
NR: There are many ways to use earth, and its application must adapt to the context and climate. For example, different regions have different types of earth, and the techniques for using it vary. In some places, you might need a lot of wood for formwork, while in others, wood might not be available.
Adaptation is key. For instance, in Siberia, where there are few trees, different techniques would be needed compared to regions with abundant wood. In a dry climate like ours, we might use specific methods for waterproofing and protecting the foundation. On the other hand, in a place like Casablanca (Morocco), a pitched roof is necessary to manage rain.
The key is to adapt the techniques. If the material is available, there's always a way to use it effectively and maximize its potential.
NM: It's important to develop a critical approach to the techniques we use and how we apply materials. Vernacular architecture provides valuable insights into how materials can be adapted to different climates. For example, in Senegal, construction techniques vary significantly: In the south, you find cob construction and thatch roofing, using local wood and rice husks; in the southeast, there are block constructions, similar to those in Burkina Faso; in the north, adobe techniques are common, with flat roofs and exposed walls due to low rainfall.
These materials adapt to various climates and are used in different ways. For us, in urban environments like Dakar, compressed earth blocks allow for exposed walls, maximizing space on smaller plots. This approach fits the context and responds to local needs.
When it comes to weather and time, sustainable buildings are designed to withstand the climate. Vernacular architecture often includes maintenance as part of its design.
For instance, the Mosque of Djenné in Mali features wooden elements for scaffolding during maintenance, and many traditional Muslim houses have steps integrated for upkeep. In northern Ghana, there are earth mounds that serve as reminders to replaster walls every few years. This kind of intelligence and understanding of maintenance cycles is crucial. It's about creating buildings that are not only sustainable but also designed with maintenance in mind, ensuring they remain functional and well-integrated into their environment over time.
RB: You've highlighted a crucial shift in perspective. It's a move towards viewing buildings as living entities, which contrasts with the direction modern architecture has taken over the decades. It seems like a necessary change. To make the use of earth more widespread, are you involved in any active efforts in Dakar or Senegal more broadly? Are there promotional, educational, or financial initiatives to popularize these materials and techniques again?
NR: That's a great point, and it's something we think about a lot. We aim to offer an alternative to the concrete city, but just designing nice houses isn't enough. We need to create impact beyond our small projects.
We've started by teaching at the architecture school in Dakar. However, the context there is challenging, so we've tried to support talented students by offering internships and opportunities to develop their portfolios, which often leads them to study abroad.
Another challenge is scaling our efforts. We face difficulties in finding local architects who can develop these techniques further and establish their own practices. We also need to find companies willing to work with earth and other ecological materials, rather than just cement and concrete. We're currently collaborating with such companies to build their skills in working with these materials.
Additionally, we're developing more affordable and ecological housing solutions. Our goal is to create eco-friendly neighborhoods that are accessible to more people and demonstrate to developers and promoters that sustainable construction is feasible and cost-effective.
NM: On a broader scale, we're involved in various initiatives. We provide consulting services to other architects and participate in conferences to promote sustainable construction practices. We're also working on projects that showcase the viability of earth construction through different media.
Education and training are crucial. Many people are interested but don't know where to start. We aim to build resources for training contractors and bricklayers in these techniques. This approach helps bridge the gap between interest and practical application.
RB: When deciding whether to build from scratch or adapt existing structures, it is often more resource-efficient to adapt, especially in terms of energy consumption. How can buildings made from earth and typha accommodate incremental changes to meet evolving needs? In many developing countries, family sizes and structures change rapidly over time. How can architecture adapt to these shifts to avoid the need for demolition and rebuilding, thus making it more efficient in the long run?
NM: When it comes to existing buildings, retaining and adapting them isn't always cheaper. In practice, adapting old buildings can sometimes be more costly due to unforeseen issues. Addressing these issues in an existing structure can be more complex than tackling them in a new build. However, from both a philosophical and environmental perspective, it is often preferable to work with existing structures when possible. We focus on enhancing the thermal and acoustic comfort of these buildings through simple upgrades like improved window protection or roof insulation.
For incremental upgrades, we use materials such as earth and typha panels, which are lightweight and easy to apply to existing structures. These panels improve insulation and overall comfort. Other adjustments might include adding or enlarging windows to increase natural light.
We are also developing strategies for designing new buildings that allow for future expansion. In Dakar, where space is limited and urban density is increasing, vertical expansion is a common solution. Our designs include features like staircases leading to terraces, enabling residents to add additional stories as needed.
NR: In our neighborhood project, we have designed houses to be incrementally adaptable. This approach addresses the high turnover of families and rapid urbanization in Dakar. By planning for future expansion, we aim to prevent the premature demolition of buildings, ensuring that they remain functional and relevant over time.
Our goal is to create adaptable, reusable spaces that can evolve with the needs of their inhabitants. For example, our designs include features that allow for easy vertical expansion or the conversion of residential spaces into commercial or office use. This strategy not only extends the life of the building but also reduces the risk of premature demolition.
RB: To wrap up our conversation, what are your expectations for the future of African cities in the coming decades?
NR: We want them to be African. They should be meaningful, designed with a deep understanding of local people and knowledge. The essence of their African identity should be evident.
NM: Since independence, we've struggled to define a modernity that integrates our way of life with our available resources — both material and human. It's crucial to develop sustainable projects where the benefits are clear and tangible.
Our building practices and infrastructure projects should effectively serve our communities and support the industries and knowledge systems we want to foster.
Development should not merely focus on constructing new buildings or achieving political goals; it should be about meaningful progress that empowers African people and states. There is a real opportunity to create a modernity that is genuinely rooted in our own context, and we have the resources to achieve this. We just need to empower our people.
