Malay carpenters are a dying breed in Singapore. Just how bad is the situation, really?
by Annas Mahmud
A young couple settles down and moves into their new home. It is empty. So, almost naturally, the first thing that comes to mind is, “Let’s get furniture”. The decision, however, only comes after deciding on the colours the walls would be. And then, IKEA. Up and down the sections and isles of IKEA they go, looking for that touch of class, affordability and practicality. Rare now do people think, “Let’s hire a carpenter”. This was what I thought was the main reason behind the decrease in the number of Malay carpenters; that there is not enough money to be earned from the industry because of the mass production of furniture in such big companies like IKEA. And I decided to find out if this is indeed true.
The Workshop
Along the empty road of Eunos Avenue 6, amidst the sound clanging metal from the stretch of industrial workshops, is a workshop space shared by some of the few Malay carpenters left in Singapore. Unlike the industrial ones, this workshop had no company name across the exterior. Instead, the carpenter’s “den” at block 1010 was simply and humbly marked with the unit number 01-24.
Where They Work: The entrance to the workshop along Eunos Ave 6 where ‘The Last Malay Carpenters’ work. The unit number, 01-24, can be seen here,
A man walking into the workshop greeted the young Malay boy who clearly looked misplaced. I greeted him back. The tall man with short hair and round eyes, I came to know, is the one currently renting the workshop space. Smiling widely, the 53 year-old Hamzah Meer explained that he is a glassman, in-charge of handling the glass which may be required in some of the carpentry projects. Even though the workshop is technically his space, it is shared with his carpenter friends. When he found out I was there to write this article, the polyglot (he could speak English, Malay, Tamil, Mandarin and Hokkien) pointed into the workshop and said, “Some of the last Malay carpenters, you can meet in here. Most of the others are either at Choa Chu Kang or Jalan Bahar (referring to the cemeteries)” and laughed.
The Last Malay Carpenters
Walking In: At first glance, the workshop looked messy and cluttered but actually, a few carpenters can share the space.
And so I walked into the workshop. The distinct yet mixed smell of wood and lacquer filling the space, as well as the sound of metal cutting wood and generators powering air pumps reminded me of the times I used to visit my father, now a retired carpenter himself, in his workshop many years ago. And then, there, right in front of the entrance sat a man in his 60s, looking for his tool. On the table above him laid a gold-coloured, Islamic design-inspired patterned frame.
As soon as he saw me, Ghalib Bin Abdullah Abdat, stood to greet me. Walking with a limp and wearing a simple shirt, not fully buttoned, the 66 year-old spoke fluent English. He talked to me about how he used to teach Design and Technology (D&T) at a secondary school. Ghalib explained that, unlike some of the other Malay carpenters, he did not start carpentry at a young age. Instead, he humbly added that he had “only” been into carpentry for the past fifteen years. Adding to that, he joked, “I was actually into electronics until something happened to me electronically!” He laughed. Ever since then, his applications to future electronic employers had been rejected. It was then that he went into carpentry.
Intricate: The Islamic design-inspired frame was finished off with gold-plating. Ghalib was working on this to be installed for a customer’s shop décor.
As we were talking, I could not help but look at the fine piece of work on the table. And he noticed. Soon enough, we were talking about the frame and he told me of how it will be used as part of a shop décor. Pointing out at the intricacy and consistency of the pattern on the frame, Ghalib commented as I asked him about the future of Malay carpentry, “The issue now is that there are no Malay youths who would have the patience or skill to make something like this.”
Still Going Strong: Ghalib Bin Abdullah Abdat, 66 yrs, standing by the almost-finished frame that he built.
Gesturing how the frame will fit in with the design of the shop, Ghalib seemed genuinely passionate about his work. He went on to explain how he and his friends had worked on something else for this client previously and that it is important to do the best job possible to retain clients.
Clientele
Not different from many other businesses, the traditional carpentry world relies on contacts for customers and word-of-mouth for publicity. As Ghalib said, “If we do it right, they either come back for more or their friends will.” Another Malay carpenter I spoke to agrees.
Working Fast: Jumri Samad, 59 yrs (left) and Abdul Latif, 55 (right) working on their latest project.
He rubbed his white beard as he stirred his cup of coffee for a break while his partner works on. After just a sip or two, he went on to grab the measuring tape and joined his partner. As he went on to measure what seemed like a kitchen cupboard, 59 year old Jumri Samad looked focus. As he was catching a breather, he explained to me that the customer count is almost always there.
Jumri added in Malay that if they do their jobs with quality, their reputation builds “from one client to another, if we are lucky, like wildfire.” While he could not even remember the number of years he had been in the carpentry industry, Jumri said that he
had only been in this particular workshop “not too long ago”. Yet, he pointed out how the system of gaining clients is the same; mainly through contacts and networks.
Pointing to the cupboard that he is currently working on, Jumri explained to me how there is still money to be made in the carpentry business provided one has these contacts. Because the cupboards are custom-built for the location, and then built from scratch, the cost of a cupboard ranges greatly. The cheapest, according to Jumri, would be at least about S$1800 depending on factors like size, complexity and type of wood used.
Skeleton Ready: The frame of the cupboard sets the size and shape of the final product. Here the frame can be seen almost ready before the doors and drawers are worked on.
Yet, there are almost always customers ordering from them. This surprised me as I thought that the rise of companies like IKEA meant that the customer pool for carpenters would have diminished. When I raised this idea to them, Jumri’s partner, 55 year-old Abdul Latif Bin Abdul Rashid shared his thoughts.
Source of Livelihood
Having taken his top off due as he could not stand the humidity, he had a pink cap on and a pencil on his ear for easy access. Latif, as he wanted to be known, looked the fittest amongst the three Malay carpenters there. He moved swiftly from one part to another, measuring, cutting and carrying the wood needed for the cupboard. A family man, Latif highlighted that he had been working as a carpenter for about thirty years now. Adding to that point, he said, “If there is no income to be made, how do you think I survived and cared for my family for so many years?”
Youngest There: At 55yrs, Abdul Latif was the youngest Malay carpenter in the workshop and looked the fittest too.
Latif believes that it is all about how each individual handles their own finances that determines whether carpentry can be a source of livelihood. He said, “Kalau besar pasak dari tiang, memang susah lah, kerja apa pun.” However, while he stressed on being prudent in expenditure, he also suggested a reason why he thinks the Malay youths do not involve themselves in carpentry.
“Takda CPF”, he said. Latif pointed out that since carpentry is very much a freelance sector, there is no deduction of the income in contribution to the carpenters’ CPF (Central Provident Fund) account. As such, there are some concerns over the carpenters’ retirement plans, especially in cases of those who do not have/ cannot afford to have much savings. This, according to Latif, in addition to the hard and skilled nature of the carpentry work, may be a big deterrence for the Malay youths. Besides, with the national primary education being made compulsory, there is even less incentives for the youths to even consider ‘hard’ labour.
The Bleak Future
In talking to these ‘Last Carpenters’, I have come to realise a few things. One, the common idea of traditional skills disappearing due to their replacement by mass production is not necessarily true. As seen how these Malay carpenters have earned enough for many years to provide for their family despite the growth of companies like IKEA serves as proof.
Two, the availability of customers does not necessarily allow for the survival of the Malay carpenters. Imagine a Malay youth, getting through an education which aims for the on-paper achievement. There is nothing to spur them on to a path of creative and skill-based sector like carpentry.
Last, but definitely not least, possibly in within the next decade or so, there may no longer be Malay carpenters in Singapore. Throughout the time I spent at the workshop, one statement kept coming at me from different mouths. One after another, the last carpenters said, “We are the last batch of Malay carpenters and we are dying off.”
As I was leaving the workshop, I felt a tinge of sadness in the atmosphere. It was as if I have highlighted what these last Malay carpenters have tried to not talk about. As if this ghost of the future Malay carpentry scene in Singapore was not to be acknowledged just yet. As if not talking about it helps to keep the hope alive. I am glad I have done this research now for if I had waited a few more years, there may not be any more Malay carpenters to talk about.