What if the city made room for seniors?

Dhaka assumes a particular kind of body: one that can step over broken concrete, cross before traffic closes in, climb into a crowded vehicle and keep moving through heat without a bench or public toilet nearby. Anyone who cannot do these things is gradually edited out of the city.

That exclusion will matter to more people as Bangladesh grows older. According to the 2022 Population and Housing Census, more than 15.3 million Bangladeshis were aged 60 or above, accounting for 9.28% of the population—up from 7.48% in 2011. A 2024 study of older adults in Lalbagh and Rayer Bazar found that overcrowded buses, difficult boarding, high fares, congested streets and transport workers’ behavior restricted mobility and contributed to isolation.

The World Health Organization treats an age-friendly city as more than a collection of senior-only facilities. Its framework links outdoor spaces and buildings with transport, housing, social participation, inclusion and access to services. The question is not only whether older people receive care, but whether the city still allows them to participate.

Architect and academic Saiqa Iqbal Meghna approaches that question through inclusive public space. An assistant professor at BRAC University and co-founder and director of Studio Morphogenesis, she recently co-led Dialogues in Coexistence: Shaping Inclusive Public Spaces in the Bengal Delta, an art–architecture project exploring climate responsiveness, participation and architecture as care. Her practice is also behind the Zebun Nessa Mosque in Ashulia, named among TIME’s World’s Greatest Places in 2025.

Asked where Dhaka begins to fail an older person, Meghna answers: “Often from the moment they step outside.” Yet her vision begins not with segregated facilities, but places that work across age, gender and ability.

What does an inclusive public place mean to you in Dhaka?

For me, an inclusive public place is one where everyone feels welcome and visible, regardless of age, gender or ability. It should support everyday life, not just special events. In our context, that also means embracing our own spatial traditions—the uthan, verandah, rawk, a raised street-facing plinth, and other threshold spaces that connected neighbours and encouraged everyday interaction.

What would Dhaka’s public places feel like if they were truly inclusive?

They would feel generous rather than specialised. Comfortable walking, frequent seating, shade, accessible toilets and safe crossings would benefit everyone. Equally important are the in-between spaces—where people can simply sit, observe and participate in everyday life.

Inclusion is not about creating separate spaces for different groups. It is about creating shared environments where everyone can coexist comfortably. Children need places to play, older people need places to pause, women need places where they feel safe, liberated and visible, and people with disabilities need independent access.

Good public space allows these activities to overlap naturally. The uthan was a beautiful example—it belonged to everyone without belonging exclusively to anyone.

Accessibility is often reduced to installing a ramp. What is missing?

Accessibility is about continuity. A ramp alone achieves very little if the footpath is broken or there is nowhere to rest. We need continuous walkable streets, shaded routes, seating, accessible transport, public toilets and clear wayfinding.

But accessibility is also social. As Jan Gehl reminds us, we should design for the life between buildings. Buildings should not stand as isolated objects; they should become part of the public realm. Active ground floors, generous thresholds, transparent street edges and visual connections create a richer urban interface where people can see and be seen, stop, meet neighbours and feel connected to community life.

Verandahs and courtyards allowed older residents to remain engaged with neighbourhood life even when mobility became limited. Designing for pause is just as important as designing for movement.

How should the Bengal Delta shape inclusive public space?

Climate is central to inclusion in the Bengal Delta. Trees, shade, natural ventilation, rain protection, permeable landscapes and cooling through water and vegetation can make public spaces healthier and more comfortable for everyone.

We must also respect Dhaka’s original land formation as a watery landscape, rather than constantly trying to erase or engineer it away. Restoring canals, wetlands and blue-green networks, and adopting principles similar to Kongjian Yu’s Sponge City approach, can help the city absorb monsoon water while creating beautiful, accessible public spaces.

In Dhaka, resilience and inclusion should grow from working with water, not against it.

What did Dialogues in Coexistence reveal about who feels welcome in public space?

What moved me most was seeing ordinary citizens of all ages alongside architects, artists, academics, activists, diplomats and policymakers naturally gathering, lingering and talking around the installations.

We worked with local materials and traditional craftsmanship, reimagining them through contemporary expressions to offer new spatial experiences. Craftspeople, workers, students, volunteers and architects invested extraordinary care and countless hours to create something meaningful for the city.

With the British Council Women of the World Grant, we wanted to offer in Dhaka the sense of wonder often encountered at international biennales and create a new dialogue about public space.

The Monsoon Pavilion is now beginning a second life at real sites as a multipurpose community space for everyday encounters, cultural events and collective life. To me, that ethics of circularity and continuity embodies the true spirit of architecture as care.

Where would you begin in reshaping Dhaka’s public realm?

Care means designing for everyday wellbeing. It asks how a street, park or footpath can make someone feel welcome, comfortable and connected. Sometimes the smallest interventions—a shaded bench, a clean public toilet, a separate bicycle lane, a generous green threshold or a safe crossing—can make the greatest difference.

During a recent visit to Delhi, I was deeply moved by the transformation of historic landscapes into vibrant public parks such as Sundar Nursery, Lodhi Garden and Hauz Khas. These spaces were remarkably democratic. I watched older people, children, women and families from different social and economic backgrounds sharing the parks with complete ease and freedom. One particularly memorable scene was a picnic of elderly women of apparently higher economic class beside families from very different economic backgrounds. Such spontaneous coexistence is a powerful reminder of what truly inclusive public space can achieve.

I would begin with a network of neighbourhood parks connected by safe, walkable streets and small pocket spaces with cafés and tea stalls. At a larger scale, we should reclaim the Buriganga riverfront as Dhaka's front porch—an accessible public promenade reconnecting the city with its waterscape. I also believe the grand plaza of the National Parliament should be opened as Dhaka's great civic space, where people from all generations can gather and celebrate being together.

This transformation requires strong public leadership. The government must prioritise accessible and climate-responsive public spaces as essential urban infrastructure, while NGOs, local communities and the private sector work together to co-create, maintain and activate these places.

Using older people's, children's and women's experiences as a lens allows us to test whether the city is truly generous enough for everyone. A healthy city is one that nurtures both movement and pause. Designing places to rest, meet, play and simply be is just as important as designing places to move through. Ultimately, a city's greatest lifeline is not only its roads or buildings, but the also so very much the everyday moments of care, coexistence and human connection that make public life truly whole.

Lessons from Stockholm: a case study

Stockholm describes an age-friendly city as an accessible and inclusive environment that supports active life at every stage. Its approach extends beyond care services to mobility, assistance for people with impaired vision or hearing, participation, independence and dignity. The city’s urban design incorporates several features specifically aimed at making the city more accessible and comfortable for older adults, including, but not limited to wider pavements and smooth, level, non-slip paths that accommodate wheelchairs and reduce fall risks for pedestrians; improved street lighting to enhance visibility and safety, especially during low-light hours; curbs cut at street level to facilitate easy crossing for people using mobility aids. They also employ traffic-calming measures to create safer streets and minimize the risk of accidents. The city plan makes use of a compact urban form, mixed land use, and density to ensure easy access to essential services and reduce the need for longer commutes. Despite being a bustling, busy metropolis, Stockholm, like other cities in Nordic countries, doesn’t lack for nature, and has ample green parks and public spaces to allow outdoor recreation and facilitate social interaction. This is particularly important for the elderly.

These elements collectively contribute to making Stockholm’s urban environment more inclusive, accessible, and supportive for its aging population