Design strategist Evidence Phiri  believes buildings are more than mere shelter; they are vessels for life's most significant moments—from births to final goodbyes.  

Phiri (EP) appeared on the In Conversation with Trevor platform hosted by Alpha Media Holdings chairman Trevor Ncube (TN) where shared some insights into his profession. 

His unique perspective was shaped by a transformative journey from medical aspirations to a life-changing discovery of Daniel Libeskind’s work, Below are excerpts from the interview. 

TN: Greetings and welcome to "In Conversation with Trevor," brought to you by Heart and Soul Broadcast Services. I go beyond the headlines and beyond the sensationalism. Today, I am in conversation with Evidence Phiri, a design strategist. 

EP: Thank you; it is my pleasure to be here. I am so delighted. 

TN: So, Evidence, you describe yourself as a design strategist—not an architect, but a designer. Tell me, what is the distinction between a design strategist, an architect, and a designer? 

EP: There are many facets to that, so let me define each of them so you can understand how I position myself. 

TN: You need to be very easy with me on this because this is heavy lifting stuff, right? 

EP: I will try. An architect, as everyone knows, is a registered professional. The license and the title "Architect" itself is a protected title; therefore, not everyone is permitted to call themselves an architect. In Zimbabwe, I believe only about 80 architects are registered, so no one else is supposed to use that title.  

I, on the other hand, am not a registered architect. I entered the field as a designer—specifically an architectural designer—but I have tried to drift away from the conventional title of architect and from doing architectural tasks in isolation.  

I have drifted toward being a strategist rather than just a designer.  

You often find that one can be hired as an architect or designer simply to build a house or structure and then leave.  

However, as a strategist, you bring a different aspect to the work because you can turn design into a strategic advantage.  

For example, houses mean different things to different people. 

I might design the same house for two different people, but it will mean something different to each of them. The strategist identifies what kind of value is being placed on the project. 

I truly appreciate the architecture of value, and it saddens me when I see that value lost—when people build things randomly or hire people off the street to design their houses.  

I believe there is so much potential being left behind, especially in our country.  

Architecture houses people’s lives; it houses their birthdays, their deaths, and a child’s first steps. All these things should be celebrated through architecture.  

The materials must speak, and the size of the windows must consider what a person sees through them.  

You have to think about these things strategically; it is not just about designing a house for people to live in. 

TN: You say you’ve drifted away from architecture. Has that been deliberate, and if so, why? 

EP: Yes. I never wanted to be an architect; I never dreamed of it. I wanted to be a medical doctor and worked toward that my whole life until I reached Upper Sixth. I didn't get the 15 points required; I got 14.  

My father and sister were the ones who actually suggested architecture. I knew nothing about it; it became a journey of self-discovery. During the first and second years, I didn't know how to draw or how to think like an architect, and those years were gruesome.  

By my third year, we were given an assignment to research an architect we found interesting, even though I still didn't like architecture. 

TN: Which university was this? 

EP: It was Nust (National University of Science and Technology). I didn't enjoy anything about it until one lecture changed my life.  

The lecturer gave us an assignment to find an architect we admired and then present on them. 

Randomly, I found Daniel Libeskind, a Polish architect, on the internet. I started watching his lectures and saw a video of the first building he designed, which he didn't build until he was 56.  

He had tried working in architecture offices but didn't enjoy it, so he taught for decades. He then won a competition to build the Jewish Museum in Berlin. 

When I saw the video, I cried. I realised that architecture goes beyond just design and shelter. 

It was eye-opening to see that architecture can inspire people to live and help them articulate their history.  

It can even help people heal; because the building was about the Holocaust, it moved people.  

That experience changed my life. It is unfortunate that many designers do not put enough effort into thinking about the story they want a building to tell. 

TN: Why have you not registered as an architect? You are so passionate about design, yet you’ve stayed away from registration. Why is that? 

EP: I haven’t registered yet, though I hope to at some point. I am working toward it, but for now, my priority is working with other architects to see how much value we can extract from an existing brief.  

We help clients rediscover what they really want or identify their story. 

You sit with them and have regular, normal conversations to help them rediscover their vision. 

TN: You went to UCT (University of Cape Town) for your master’s degree; what did the journey do for you intellectually? 

EP: Intellectually, it was a gruesome experience. I had never pushed myself as hard as I did then.  

It was eye-opening to move from Zimbabwe's education system into an environment where people are truly passionate about teaching and the resources are vast.  

If you want to learn, the library is open day and night, and everyone is willing to help a student succeed.  

Even though I didn't use every resource available, the environment itself was transformative.