Skilled embroiderer strives to uphold this Sarawak Malay heritage craft, keen to pass it down to younger generation
A golden ‘kerikam’ in copper needle in the hand of the skilled ‘penyulam’, fashioning exquisite motifs on a ‘rubia’ fabric stretched over a wooden frame.
NORAINI Zaidan, a ‘keringkam’ embroiderer for 50 years, simply loves the art of ‘menyulam’ (embroidering) the traditional Sarawak Malay women’s head covering. She discovered her worth in the art of keringkam-making 10 years ago, when the Sarawak government increased its efforts in promoting traditional weaving and embroidery.
Since then, she has dedicated herself to the craft, earning a reputation as a skilled keringkam embroiderer. She gave up her other money-making activities, sewing uniforms and catering food, both of which she did from home, to focus on keringkam-making.
She has converted the living room of her modest home at Kampung Lintang, a Malay village in Petra Jaya, Kuching, into a workroom/mini-gallery where she displays her keringkam and other embroidery items such as pouches.
The ‘kampung’ setting enhances the cultural experience at her mini-gallery. The children’s voices shouting and laughing gleefully can be heard from a nearby futsal court, while a village-style homestay across the road in front of her house welcomes guests and tourists seeking a more authentic taste of local life.
A few of her masterpieces hang proudly on the walls, dark red ‘rubia’ gauze fabrics embroidered with lush motifs embroidered with golden threads.
Noraini shows some of the keringkam pieces from her collection, as she holds a duplication of one of her masterpieces that she made for a client.
“Those are not for sale,” she says.
“But (they) will be passed down to my children and grandchildren as family heirlooms.”
Racial harmony
“I was born Chinese, but adopted by three Malay siblings, two sisters and a brother.
“My two sisters became my mothers, and my brother became my father. Both of my adoptive mothers were not married, whereas my adoptive father married when I was six years old, and his wife became my mother as well,” she continues.
It is the beauty of racial harmony, a driving factor for social integration in which people from various ethnic groups and religions can easily claim to be related to one another.
Intermarriages are also common, contributing to our multifaceted cultural heritage.
The Malays are also known for their unwavering parental love for their adopted children, who are typically of Chinese descent. In Sarawak’s pluralistic society, there has always been a strong sense of belonging.
Similarly, Noraini is proud of her Malay heritage, while also acknowledging her Chinese ancestry.
“I remember when I was in my early teens, my two moms insisted that I picked up the embroidering skill from them. They would say: “If we’re gone, who will teach you this art?”
“I was not very interested then because I was more into cooking and sewing, but I’m glad I listened to them anyway.
“And so here I am, keeping up the family tradition, in line with my parents’ wishes.”
Fond memories of parents
Noraini has fond memories of her late mothers, whom she cared for until they died. They were keringkam embroiderers who were also skilled at embroidering ‘kebaya’ (traditional blouse most associated with Chinese Peranakan women) and ‘Baju Melayu cabut,’ a type of embroidery bordering pockets and sleeves of the ‘Baju Melayu’ (Malay traditional attire).
“In those days, there was bound to be a few women who were skilled keringkam makers found in every home in the village. My moms told me how their mother used to make keringkam for the ‘dayang-dayang’ (ladies-in-waiting) at the Astana during the Brooke’s time.
“My two moms inherited the expertise from her,” she prides.
Ranee Margaret Brooke (1849-1936), the wife of the second White Rajah, Charles Anthony Brooke, wrote in her book: “Sketches of my life in Sarawak’ (1913), of women donning the ‘tudung keringkam’: I was taken aback by the charming sight of that awaited me as I entered the dining hall. The rows of women and young girls seated on the floor round the room, with their silken brocades and gauzy veils of rose, green, blue and lilac, reminded me of an animated bed of brightly coloured flowers.
“I noticed that what beautiful complexions most of these women had, of opaque pale yellow kind, like the petals of a fading gardenia…”
Margaret was known for her passion for the Malay keringkam. Some of her precious possessions were showcased at the Ranee Museum at the Old Court House in Kuching.
Noraini with a local keringkam aficionado Datin Dayang Mariani Abang Zain (left) and the writer at the keringkam exhibition booth, which was run during the Borneo Textiles Symposium held in Kuching recently.
The Sarawak Malay keringkam, with all its distinctive features, remains a prized work of art that Sarawak women would be proud to don either as a ‘selayah’ (shorter-version head covering) or ‘selendang’ (shawl) regardless of their ethnicity.
They are prized possessions among the Malays. Some are family heirlooms passed down through five to six generations. The splendour of the keringkam is frequently displayed on the ‘pelamin’ (wedding dais), where a bride and groom are seated as ‘raja sehari’ (king/queen for a day) in front of their guests during the ‘bersanding’ (symbolic ‘enthronement’ of the newlyweds on the dais) ceremony.
Traditionally associated with Malay royalties, the keringkam are highly valued for their fine workmanship and aesthetic designs reflecting the richness of the Sarawak Malay culture.
All these have become a source of inspiration for the preservation and promotion of the cultural heritage.
Kampung Lintang — Home of heritage craft
Kampung Lintang’s involvement in the heritage craft can be traced back to the Brooke era or perhaps, to the time long before the coming of the White Rajah, as the keringkam was already worn in Sarawak as early as the 14th century.
Kampung Lintang, the village of Noraini’s ancestors, stretches from the Sarawak River to Kampung Tanjung. Sungei Bedil Kampung is located on the other side of the former. These Malay villages, located near the Astana, were once famous for their skilled keringkam embroiderers.
The keringkam maker at her embroidering table.
“The fabrics were stretched over a wooden frame on a low topless table while the women sat on the floor as they engaged in the craft. When I was little, I used to play house under the table,” Noraini recalls of the glory days of the heritage craft, when girls were expected to learn it from their mothers.
“I was 15 years old when I finally agreed to learn the art of embroidering the keringkam from my two mothers. They kept telling me that they had no one else in the family they could pass down the skill to.
“Furthermore, I had stopped schooling after finishing my Form 3 to give way to my siblings from my father’s marriage as money was difficult at the time,” she explains how she started.
Lucrative keringkam business
Noraini was 20 years old when she sold her first keringkam. Later as her skill grew, she joined forces with her two mothers, who began receiving orders from prominent figures, particularly for their children’s weddings.
“I would ‘nyulam’ (embroider) day and night as it were. Some of the clients wanted the ‘selendang keringkam’ to be longer than the usual ones. The price of the ‘kerikam’ (the name of the silvery or golden coarse metal thread for the keringkam) was still reasonable then,” she recalls.
“Today, the price of the threads has increased manifold depending on their quality so that a keringkam with high quality threads can easily fetch a staggering amount of between RM16,000 and RM50,000, depending on how much thread is used.
“During my mothers’ time, a ‘selayah’ was sold for as low as RM30, while the ‘selendang’ was only RM50.
“Actually, the keringkam motifs determine the price. The richer the motifs, the more expensive they are as they require more threads.
“I normally have my clients pay me a certain amount of cash first just for me to buy the threads.
“Once the threads finish, I would ask for another amount for the purchase of some more threads and at the same time, I’d let them see the progress of the work.
“Once the keringkam is completed, only then they pay for the workmanship.
“The threading work requires precision and skill, and is very time consuming. I used to be able to finish a keringkam with intricate designs within a couple of weeks.
“But now as I get older, I can only finish the same amount of work in one or two months.
“I can no longer sit very long in the same position embroidering keringkam at the table because it can give me back cramps.
“I can’t count how many pieces of keringkam I have made to date as I have made so many,” prides Noraini, who has also been making keringkam for the state government as gifts for royal families, prime ministers and other notables over the years.
Passing down the skill
Noraini shows a poster of her with the Raja Permaisuri Agong Tunku Hajah Azizah Aminah Maimunah Iskandariah, who is an aficionado of traditional textiles, admiring her work.
Today, there is still a dearth of skilled keringkam embroiderers and their numbers are on the decline. The younger generation is not interested in learning the craft, which is one of Sarawak’s oldest traditional crafts.
“Not many young people want to learn the craft. Most of the people who sign up at training centres for keringkam embroidery are those who already over 40. The older generation of artisans have passed away, such as my mother’s cousin who died recently.
“She had been embroidering every day when she was well,” says Noraini.
Nonetheless, efforts have been made by the Sarawak government, including the establishment of the ‘Sarawak Heritage Innovation: Songket and Keringkam’, to promote, conserve and preserve the skills of ‘songket’ weaving and keringkam embroidery.
The craft has become an integral part of Noraini’s life, and one which she is keen to pass down to the younger generation.
At 65, she would continue to make keringkam as long as her health allows it, as she takes pride in her Malay heritage.
According to Noraini, a keringkam with high quality threads can easily fetch a high price from RM16,000 to RM50,000, depending on how much thread is used.