Cikgu Fauzi And The Fire That Keeps Tradition Alive

KOTA BHARU, Aug 2 (Bernama) -- Thin smoke curls from glowing embers as Fauzi Yusoff, 69, firmly grasps his hammer. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if syncing with the heartbeat of a craft that breathes through fire and steel.

This is the daily ritual of a former headmaster who has never stopped breathing life into the “pisau jam”, a traditional Kelantan Malay knife now known mostly by name to the young generation.

"The shape of this ‘pisau jam’ is unique, like the hands of a wall clock. I use iron for the blade’s core, but the rest is made from a mix of five types of old ‘pamo’ iron... if you look closely, you’ll see fine borders along the blade, that’s its signature,” said Fauzi, affectionately called Cikgu Fauzi, in an interview with Bernama.

Hammering metal was merely an after-school hobby for Fauzi more than three decades ago. Today, each strike of the hammer is a memory, a tribute to his late father, Yusoff Kasim, a renowned blacksmith in Kampung Padang Embun, in Pasir Mas.

Though only six inches long, each “pisau jam” forged by Cikgu Fauzi tells a deep and personal story. Its sheath is carved from tiger-striped Acacia wood, the bolster (aring) crafted from hammered molten copper, and the hilt, or handle, made from strong, long-lasting merbau wood.

“Many have offered to buy it, but I can’t let it go. This isn’t just a weapon, it’s my family’s history, my father’s,” he said.

At home, his wife, Che Azizah Mat Ali, 67, also a retired teacher, quietly stands by, a witness to her husband’s weathered hands and enduring devotion. Their four children and 11 grandchildren grew up to the rhythm of metal on iron. They know that for Fauzi, this isn’t just work, it’s blood, memory, and soul.

Apart from “pisau jam”, Fauzi also still produces machetes, keris, swords and sickles. Each one is forged with patience because for him, the art of ironwork is not just about form but also taste.

Among his most treasured creations is a knife blade with a wooden sheath in the shape of an arowana fish. 

“It takes months to finish one. Each fin must be carved by hand. I used to sell it for RM550, but now it’s worth thousands of ringgit, but I don’t make it anymore because the sheath maker has passed away,” he said.

His humble workshop behind the house, built at a cost of nearly RM100,000, is more than a place to work. It’s a sacred space, where every spark and ember rekindles memories of his father.

“When I hear the sound of the hammer, I feel like my father is beside me again. I remember how he taught me to hold the hammer, how to be patient when the iron glows red,” he said.

Most orders today come for machetes and sickles, which are ready in a week. But making swords and keris takes time, precision, and patience — skills that not every hand can master. A single handcrafted keris can fetch up to RM3,000.

“The process begins by heating the iron over charcoal, then hammering it with an ‘Air Hammer’ machine. After that comes the ‘sepoh’, quenching it in water or oil to harden the blade,” he explained.

But the final stage — the rolling and finishing — is the most delicate.

“If you’re not at peace, the blade won’t turn out right. This is my father’s trust. It’s also my love for the craft,” he said.

For Cikgu Fauzi, as long as there is fire, as long as hands are willing to strike iron, this heritage will never die.

-- BERNAMA