Over a billion people currently live in so-called “informal” settlements – vast cities of tarp, corrugated metal and broken concrete that are built without the formal input of planners, architects or other professionals. Constructed of unsanctioned methods and materials, these extra-legal settlements have thrived within the crucible of modern urban development, growing at a pace and scale that far exceeds that of state-sanctioned urban areas (WHO, 2000). This is despite the fact that these settlements are disadvantaged in almost every way: underfunded, built on undesirable sites and overtly opposed by very powerful actors (UN-Habitat, 2010). Nevertheless, whether burned to the ground, demolished by rains or removed by government agencies, these settlements not only persist, but they expand. The secret to their impressive resiliency can be traced the unique manner by which the residents design, construct, and, when necessary, re-construct their environments. Operating effectively as bricoleurs, this vast army of citizen-builders uses acts of direct, hands-on experimentation to develop new potential within their pre-constrained inventory of resources, and create much-needed work (Lévi-Strauss, 1968). In their hands salvaged materials find new voice and unanticipated circumstances find quick address. This allows their work to embody a particularly profound version of circularity, leveraging, almost exclusively, the weight of materials already generated and deployed, rather than utilizing new assets and adding to this mass. From the standpoint of material practice, there is great wisdom here, even if it is generated through the constraints of environments that are objectively unsafe, unhealthy and unjust. Unfortunately, the embedded paternalism of architectural practice compels the professional to view these actions as mandates for colonialization, instead of opportunities for dialogue (Crawford, 1991). This is despite the clear shortcomings of the patronage-based approaches professed by the field, which have been proven to be exploitative, linear, and energy-intensive. The irony of this stance is quite poignant, as the very presence of these communities is a testament to the inefficiencies of these patterns of engagement – a natural by-product of the patronage-based systems supported by the architect. Perhaps by reversing these flows of knowledge the architect might find a more useful, hybridized approach. After all, history has shown that neither practice works well in isolation: the linear, heavily-engineered approach of the architect tends toward exploitation and brittle, non-resilient work; the fluid, bricolage-based approach of the citizen-builder relies upon untested practices which generate unsafe environments. To explore this premise, the paper proposed by this abstract will analyze five recently completed works in Africa, and the dialogical processes that support them. Designed by Ross Langdon, Local Works, Beau Mills, Indalo World and the International Design Clinic, the relative equitability of each work’s processes and outputs will be analyzed and compared against more commonly deployed patterns in the region (Images 01 and 02; Stake, 1995). Through these case studies, the paper will offer a grounded, evidence-based assessment as to the value of these projects in nurturing and sustaining ecosystems, and strengthen communities.