Not even a hat, umbrella or mini fan could offer relief, as the coastal breeze did little to ease the sweltering midday heat in this remote village, accessible only by sea or air.
Despite the discomfort, the spellbinding rhythm of drums and Bajau Semporna gamelan music, paired with the graceful “igal-igal” dance of a Lepa queen, held everyone transfixed.
Mesmerised by the beauty and uniqueness of the traditional attire worn by the dancer – complete with accessories such as the “jabang” (crown) and “kambut” (belt) – the sweat and heat seemed to fade away.
“It’s so beautiful. I want to try it on and dance, too. I’ve never seen such a stunning costume; I want to wear it with the crown. What’s it called?” asked Ekaterina Rashidin, a Russian woman fluent in Malay, as she admired the exquisite traditional attire.
After the performance, she carefully examined each piece of the Bajau costume neatly displayed in the corner of the house. Rashidin, a resident of Malaysia who was part of the recent Kraftangan Malaysia tour in this part of Sabah, was eager to showcase the outfit on social media to attract tourists.
Delighted by Rashidin’s enthusiasm, 47-year-old traditional costume maker Narimah Tamjiji shared that Bajau attire holds a distinct charm not found in other ethnic garments.
“The traditional attire of the Bajau Semporna community is known as ‘Ala Bimbang’. Like many traditional Bornean costumes, it is predominantly black. While it now comes in a variety of colours to suit modern preferences, black remains the classic choice,” she told Bernama.
“Besides bead embellishments, the costume is typically worn with gold ‘bungkah’ (bangles) and ‘saling’ (finger sheaths) during the igal-igal dance to enhance the dancer’s elegance. Men usually wear tanjak, the traditional headgear.”
Ala Bimbang features inherited motifs unique to the ethnic group. With the sea being a vital resource for fishing communities, elements such as “kelolok” (patterns on single-mast sailing boats known as “lepa” in Bajau), seaweed, and floral designs are key elements in the intricate beadwork adorning these outfits.
Narimah explained that Ala Bimbang was traditionally worn only during special occasions such as festivals or Regatta Lepa, the main celebration of the Bajau Semporna people.
“During Regatta Lepa, this heritage attire was commonly worn for cultural celebrations and costume competitions. Over time, its popularity has grown not only in Sabah but also in peninsular Malaysia, from where I now receive orders,” she said.
She added, however, that while she is encouraged by the growing interest, she also worries over excessive modernisation of the attire, “especially since there are very few of us making it”.
Narimah, who has over a decade of experience crafting traditional wear, shared that fewer than 20 tailors in her village on the island still make this legacy costume – and most of them are elderly.
She noted that every aspect of the costume – from the cut, folding technique and motif placement to the accessories – carries deep meaning and represents the dignity of the Bajau Semporna people.
“As there are so few tailors, I’m worried that excessive changes will make it hard for future generations to distinguish between authentic and modernised versions,” she said.
“Traditional-attire tailors should act as cultural ambassadors, guiding clients to preserve the originality of our traditional dress.”
Despite her concerns, Narimah is grateful that most of her clients prefer the authentic touch. And demand has been increasing since 2019, particularly from West Malaysia, after a video of a university student wearing her design went viral that year.
“Initially, I only received orders from friends in Pulau Bum Bum, Tawau, Semporna and Kota Kinabalu. But after the viral video and my participation in Kraftangan Malaysia events in 2020, orders started pouring in.
“I couldn’t handle them alone, and only my eldest daughter showed interest. So I invited villagers to join me in the business, which also helps single mothers and fishermen’s wives; and, importantly, elevates our traditional attire.”
Previously, Narimah could only complete three outfits a month. Now, with 12 workers operating from her 800-sq-ft living room, they can produce at least 10 traditional costumes, priced between RM1,000 and RM1,500 depending on motif complexity, lacework, and bead detailing.
“Many love the costumes I make because the motifs appear almost alive, and the stitching is delicate. To achieve that effect, I use high-quality beads and stitch them in sync with the flow of the motif.
“This involves combining different types, colours, and sizes of beads within a single motif to create a vibrant, lifelike design that reflects marine life. Some tailors use only large beads to save time, which is why their work lacks the same sense of vitality,” she noted.
Hoping to see more young people involved in preserving traditional attire, Narimah dreams of setting up a dedicated workshop to better organise and sustain her operations in the future.