THE legacy of the late Professor Sulaiman Ghani in promoting batik is evident the moment one steps into the activity centre at the Kajang Women’s Prison.
In June 2009, Sulaiman had taken over the teaching of batik-making as part of the textile rehabilitative class there. His first batch of students consisted of six inmates and a few prison officers.
One of his first students was Nurul (not her real name), who remembered Sulaiman as a kind-hearted person and an assertive teacher.
“From the moment he said ‘hello’, he treated me with respect.
I felt on a par with him, even though he was such a wise and knowledgeable man, and I was an inmate.
“When you are an inmate, you are inclined to think that you will make mistakes.
“After all, how could I not make mistakes during his classes? I did not know anything about batik-making back then.
“I still remember when he assured us a number of times that it was all right to make mistakes, as long as we learnt from them and tried hard not to repeat them. From then on, we learnt not to be too hard on ourselves.
“He helped me a lot, especially in forgiving myself for my mistakes. He was very kind to me, an inmate who knew nothing,” a teary-eyed Nurul said.
Sulaiman was said to be very meticulous in teaching batik-making, as Nurul said it took her six months to fully master the skills.
Choking with emotion, she described the opportunity to be under Sulaiman’s tutelage as a “lifetime honour”.
“He was willing to listen to us during class and there was this unspoken bond between him and all of us.
“He came here a day before he died. His last words to me were ‘Jagalah diri kamu, sesungguhnya kita ini hanyalah manusia ciptaan Tuhan, yang Maha Penyayang (Please look after yourself, for all of us are only creations of God, the Most-Loving)’.
“I am still trying to come to terms with the fact that he is no longer with us.”
Nurul continues to hold on to those words, as they have inspired her to make full use of her skills. She plans to start a batik garment business upon leaving prison.
Another inmate, who declined to be named, said Sulaiman taught her to never be afraid about expressing herself in the arts.
“Indirectly, our conversations and his advice helped me continue with my life. We’re all only human and mistakes are unavoidable.”
Sulaiman was known to be very particular and firm during class. He had never discriminated against his students as inmates, according to one of his former pupils, Cindy.
She said Sulaiman had a unique teaching approach which would help students master the required skills with depth.
“I remember this one time when I had wrongly mixed the colour on the fabric and he saw me struggling.
“He came to my aid, saying ‘it’s okay to mismatch the colour, this is what you can do’.
“He proceeded to show me how to correct my colouring technique. He then taught me how to ‘see’ and predict the outcome of my batik pattern designs.”
One of the more memorable anecdotes of Sulaiman, Cindy said, was when he taught her how to observe the fabric by lying down underneath it.
“Because of my careless mistakes, Sulaiman asked us to lie down underneath the fabric spread. I was nervous. I thought we were being punished.
“It turned out that he wanted us to see whether colours would turn out beautifully or otherwise. With all of us underneath the fabric, he proceeded to give us a short lecture on how to ‘see’ the batik.
“Now, from time to time I’d lie down underneath the fabric to predict my end-product. It looks silly, but it reminds me of him.”
The Vocational and Industry women’s prison section officer, Norsahkidah Saaron, said Sulaiman’s involvement helped put their batik products on the national stage.
“I was here when he started teaching the inmates. It was his personal project at first and with time, he brought his UiTM students to join the class.
“We were constantly in contact to talk about selling our batik products. He would always bring our batik products everywhere he went, even as far as one of the fashion shows in Paris, as a way of promoting it.
“He taught us many batik-making techniques, such as tie-and-dye, the ‘cracking’ technique and more. To make it exclusive, he named our batik products ‘Batik Kaseh’.
“The revenue from batik is of course, not consistent, as it depends on demand. But regardless of the fluctuating demand, our classes still go on. I remember there was this one month when the revenue we made from the selling of batik products reached RM21,000.
“We were very humbled and honoured; after all, it was hand-made by the inmates. Who would have even thought of that?”
Norsahkidah said that after Sulaiman took over the class, she started seeing improvements in both the products and inmates’ behaviour.
“He was a very friendly man. If I could describe him in one word, I’d say he was a noble person. His heart was truly there for whoever he could teach.
“He has helped us, not just in this prison, but all the prisons that provide a traditional textile-making programme.
“For Batik Kaseh, we won second place in Piala Seri Endon recently.
“The products were made by inmates from scratch. It took a lot of hard work, passion and patience for a person to help inmates to be skilled, so much so that they have won awards.”
After Sulaiman’s involvement with the Kajang Women’s Prison rehabilitative programme, he proceeded to teach inmates at other prisons including Pokok Sena Prison in Kedah, Pengkalan Chepa Prison in Kelantan and Bentong Prison in Pahang.
His efforts in keeping traditional textile handicraft alive had borne fruit as products made by the inmates are now worn by Malaysian royals and other dignitaries as a way of promoting batik to the world.
“His last words that impacted me until this day were these; ‘Biarlah kekal hidup batik di dunia, meskipun bila Sulaiman Ghani dah tiada satu hari nanti’ (Even if Sulaiman Ghani is no longer around one day, let the batik remain alive in this world),” Norsahkidah said.
“Truly one of a kind.”