This is the daily ritual of a former headmaster, affectionately known as Cikgu Fauzi, who keeps breathing life into the “pisau jam”. This traditional Kelantan Malay knife is now mostly known only by name among younger generations.
“The shape of the 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 iron,” he told Bernama.
“If you look closely, you’ll see fine borders along the blade – that’s its signature.”
More than three decades ago, hammering metal was merely an after-work hobby for Fauzi. Today, each strike of the hammer is a memory and a tribute to his late father, Yusoff Kasim, a renowned blacksmith in Kampung Padang Embun, Pasir Mas.
Although only 15cm long, each pisau jam forged by Fauzi tells a deep and personal story. Its sheath is carved from tiger-striped acacia wood; the bolster – the band that joins the blade to the handle – crafted from hammered molten copper; and the hilt or handle made from strong, long-lasting merbau wood.
At home, his wife, Che Azizah Mat Ali, 67, quietly stands by, witnessing her husband’s weathered hands and unwavering dedication. Their four children and 11 grandchildren grew up to the rhythm of metal on iron. They know that for Fauzi, this isn’t just about work – it’s about tradition and family.
Apart from pisau jam, Fauzi produces machetes, keris, swords and sickles – each forged with patience. Among his most treasured creations is a knife blade with a wooden sheath in the shape of an arowana fish.
“It used to take me months to finish one. Each fin had to be carved by hand. I used to sell it for RM550; now it’s worth thousands of ringgit. But I don’t make it anymore because the sheath maker has passed away,” he explained.
His humble workshop behind his home is a sacred space. “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, and how to be patient when the iron glows red.”
Fauzi receives the most orders for machetes and sickles, which he can produce in a week. But making swords and keris takes time and precision – skills 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 a machine. After that comes the ‘sepoh’ step – quenching it in water or oil to harden the blade,” he outlined.
But it is the final stage – the rolling and finishing – that is the most delicate. “If you’re not at peace, the blade won’t turn out right,” he added.
For Cikgu Fauzi, as long as there is fire and his hands are still able to strike iron, his father’s memory will never die.