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Meet Ar. Mahnoor Ahmed, the Architect Building Floors from Earth

Writer: Journalising Designers
Journalising Designers
7 minutes ago
6 min read
Ar. Mahnoor Ahmed
Ar. Mahnoor Ahmed

Meet Ar. Mahnoor Ahmed, an architect who has lived in earthbag domes, bamboo villas and wooden cottages, has not switched on an air conditioner in 3 years, and is now bringing this into people's homes.


"Everyone wants to rush the drying," she says.


After days with their hands in the earth, her workshop participants want to see the finished floor. She says earth sealed before it is ready holds moisture inside, and "the floor pays for it later." So she teaches them to touch the floor, feel its coolness, and wait until the earth tells them it is ready.


Her path


She trained as an architect at Mehran University of Engineering and Technology in Jamshoro, Pakistan, graduated in 2022, and registered with the Pakistan Council of Architects and Town Planners that year. As a student, she volunteered for some months with the Heritage Foundation of Pakistan, where she saw natural, community-built architecture working for real people for the first time.


In 2023, she went to Bali, where she studied permaculture landscape design with Nusantara, vernacular architecture and bamboo construction with Bamboo Creative Bali, and worked as eco-product designer at Escape Nomade. She learned earth through hands-on exchanges in Bali and with Conscious Impact in Nepal.


She lives cooled by breeze, shade and natural walls. "As a young architect, I refuse to accept that the concrete box is the only future my generation is allowed to build," she says.


What she learned in an earthbag dome


In Nepal, she lived in an earthbag dome. Outside, the temperature rose and fell through the day. Inside, she says, the air stayed calm and steady, the curved walls softened every sound, and the light felt gentle. "Living there, I stopped seeing earth as a building material and started feeling it as a climate," she says. She calls that experience one of the biggest reasons she does this work.


What an earthen floor is made of

She lists a few materials, each with a purpose: clay to bind, sand for strength, and natural fibres such as straw to hold it all together. Natural oils harden into a softly glowing, water-resistant surface. All of it is laid over a solid, well-drained base. Most of the materials come from the land itself, so every floor carries the colour of its land.


Her first floor


Before she built a floor, she built a model: "a small piece I could hold, press, crack and learn from." Her first real floor was the workshop shala at Bamboo Creative Bali. Natalie, who champions natural building there, trusted her with it.


She says Bali's rainy season brings months of humidity and sudden downpours, and earth wants to dry slowly and evenly. The bamboo builders around her faced the same sky and kept building, so she learned to protect, test and adapt instead of waiting for perfect weather. "A drawing has no weather," she says. She now treats drying time as part of the design, not a delay.


Is it durable?


"Yes, when it's designed with care and cared for in return," she writes. A sealed earthen floor wears much like wood and can last a lifetime. It may scuff if mistreated and Earth floors can be challenging in persistently wet rooms, but proper design and waterproofing help protect them from moisture, so she suggests felt pads under furniture and keeping it out of bathrooms. Care is simple: sweep, wipe gently and re-oil from time to time.


"I believe durability isn't something a material is born with; it's something we engineer and design," she says. Protect earth from water below and above, and it endures. Some earth buildings have stood for centuries.


What the floor does badly


"Earth is honest about its limits, and so am I," she says. An earthen floor is a little softer than tile. It takes time to reach its strength, hardening over the weeks after it is finished, so a heel or a dropped pan can leave a mark. It won't forgive standing water or a rushed job. Before any client commits, she tells them: "it will need care, and it will age with you."


She names a trade-off. A damaged patch can be mended with the same earth and a little water, and the material can be reused again and again without becoming waste. A cracked tile can only be thrown away.


She also created a modular, movable shower base made of earth, finished with a floor of river pebbles set by hand. "A bathroom is the last place anyone imagines earth, and that's exactly why I built it there," she says.


A living material


"Earth isn't a factory product, and I don't want it to be," she says. Every soil is different, and the same mix behaves differently in a humid week than in a dry one. So she tests, adapts and lets the material lead. The small variations it leaves behind are, in her words, its signature, "the reason each floor is unmistakably handmade."


Why the floor feels cool


She says that on a hot afternoon, earth holds the cool of the night through the day and gives back warmth gently in the evening. Its surface often stays cooler than the air, so it draws heat from the body, and the room feels cooler than any thermometer would suggest. Paired with a deep, shading roof and high openings that let hot air escape, she says the floor becomes part of a living system that keeps a home comfortable without air conditioning, just as traditional South Asian homes did for centuries.


Teaching


She describes every earthen floor as "a conversation in layers": a solid, dry base, earthen layers that grow finer and finer, and a natural sealing that lets it breathe. Her most recent floor is a red earthen floor in Islamabad, made by workshop participants. "Now I'm bringing this into people's homes," she says. For a private residence in Islamabad, she led the full sustainable design consultation, and she will finish its walls in natural plaster.


She teaches the exact proportions, timings and techniques only in person, because she believes earth is learned through material understanding and through the hands, never from a list.


Her first workshop abroad, for international participants, brought together a site, materials, people and trust for the first time. Delopus trusted her to host their students, and Nadi Nature Resort opened its land to the group. She says none of her workshops has gone badly, and the students' feedback is the reason she kept going.


Her online earth course is coming next year. A screen, she says, is perfect for the why: why earth, how it supports health and climate, how to read a site and think through a design. It cannot teach the feel: when a mix is right, how much pressure a hand needs, the moment a matte surface turns into a soft shine. "Online opens the door; the workshop is where people walk through it in depth."


Why it matters


She says we spend around 90% of our lives indoors, and that indoor pollutants can reach levels two to five times higher than outside, often released by synthetic paints, glues and finishes. Earth and lime, she says, are mineral, breathable and free of synthetic chemicals, and clay helps keep indoor humidity balanced.


She also cites a lighter footprint: roughly a twentieth of the energy of a concrete floor of the same thickness. On cost, she says the materials are local and affordable, and the true value lies in skilled hands.


At the scale of the planet, she says cement production accounts for around 8% of global CO2, while earth from the site or nearby is never fired. In Pakistan, she says the need is urgent: a shortage of around 10 million homes, about 767,000 houses destroyed and 1.3 million more damaged in the 2022 floods (roughly 89% of that damage in Sindh, her home province), and more than 780,000 buildings damaged or destroyed in the 2005 earthquake.


Her answer is a balance: local earth where it performs, engineered for earthquakes and raised above the water, and modern materials where they truly add strength.


She names no single master. She credits nature first, then craftspeople, earth builders, communities and every group of students, then historic buildings that have stayed cool and standing for centuries without a single air conditioner. "Earth has long been seen as the material of the poor," she says. "I see it as the material of the future."


"In a world that wants everything instantly, patience may be the most radical thing my workshops teach.”


 
 

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