The Wishing Well

My journey to Trinity Hall began with a wish – a quiet one at first, but full of hope. A dream of something more, not just for me, but for my family.

I’m Samira Elbahja – most people call me Sam. I grew up with my family in Tower Hamlets, East London, and I carry it with me wherever I go. It’s more than just a postcode – it’s where my imagination took root. But like many of us who grew up in social housing, I knew what it meant for opportunities to live just out of my reach. At school, the idea of Cambridge felt like a fantasy. Something whispered about, never taken seriously.

But I’ve always been a dreamer.

One day, my form tutor said, “You’ve got nothing to lose by applying.” And so I did. Two interviews, two exams – and then the news came: I was going to study architecture at the University of Cambridge.

But architecture wasn’t my only love. There was also poetry.

My path to it wasn’t straightforward. I started out as a Regional Public Speaking Champion, where my teacher pointed out something I’d never noticed – the rhythm in my voice. “You should try poetry,” she said. At my first open mic, I sat right at the back and soaked everything in. The next day, I returned with some scribbled lines on a crumpled piece of paper. I performed. It wasn’t perfect, but it lit something in me. The same spark I felt on that public speaking stage. From that point on, I never stopped writing.

Looking back, I realise I’d been writing my whole life – in margins of school books, the Notes app on my phone, in the back row of English class. Trinity Hall gave me the space to grow, not just as a student, but as an artist. Whether I was writing in the Jerwood Library, pacing the Aula, or stretched out on Latham Lawn trying to push past writer’s block, I was surrounded by history and possibility.

Trinity Hall also supported Give Us the Mic, an initiative I founded that brought voices from all corners of Cambridge together.

You might be wondering: what’s poetry got to do with architecture? For me, they’re inseparable. Both are about listening, storytelling, and understanding lived experiences.

In the past, I’ve been commissioned to write poems for architectural campaigns – from Heatherwick Studio’s Humanise to Morris + Company’s People’s Choice Awards and Open City’s Curators. And why I published Naked Pen, my debut collection, now stocked by Amazon, Waterstones, and Barnes & Noble!

But this is just the beginning. I’m the founder of The Blocks Workshop, a programme that helps young East Londoners connect poetry and architecture through creativity and reclaimed materials.

As a contributor to Homegrown+ and a board member of MAI Cultures, I want young people to believe that their wildest dreams – the ones you whisper into wishing wells – can come true.

Which brings me full circle: to writing The Wishing Well for Trinity Hall’s 675th anniversary.

I was deeply honoured to be a part of such a lasting legacy